//------------------------------// // Epiphany // Story: The Diamond Exchange // by angelbunny //------------------------------// “Okay,” said Pinkie Pie as she laid her playing card atop a vertically fanned stack of cards across from her. “For this rouuuuuund... a two of diamonds.” “Sorry, Pinkie, but you can’t play that,” said Rarity. “You have to declare a suit different than the one declared in the last round. I played the seven of diamonds to start off the last round, remember?” Pinkie Pie was a regular Friday afterhours visitor at Carousel Boutique. When the shop closed up for the day, she and Rarity would chat, have tea and play card games to unwind. The shop was much busier lately now that Rarity’s reputation as a heroine had spread throughout Equestria. Special orders for custom outfits were now commonplace and opportunities to relax prior to closing time were scarce. Gone were the days when she could take the time to hunt for jewels with Spike at the quarries on the outskirts of town. She recently started buying her jewels wholesale, something she had only done a few times in the past since wholesale prices cut into her profits too drastically and the excess stones would sit around for weeks untouched. These days, her volume was more than double what it was and jewels didn’t have time to gather dust. Over in Canterlot, Hoity Toity couldn’t keep Rarity’s creations in stock longer than five days after receiving a shipment – even fewer if Sapphire Shores came to his boutique – and he was starting to inquire about wholesale prices. Her current daily workload was gradually exceeding her ability to manage on her own and she was seriously considering hiring additional unicorn seamstresses to perform the magical labor while she worked exclusively on creating the designs and overseeing production. At this stage of her career, it would be foolish to decline new orders just so she could catch up with the current ones. Pinkie Pie had also drummed up additional business for Sugarcube Corner as tourists and curiosity seekers from Ponyville, Canterlot and beyond came to meet her. Visitors received a free autograph with the purchase of any of Sugarcube Corner’s numerous baked goods – a promotional idea that was Pinkie’s brainchild. The less expensive single serving size treats routinely sold out in the first hour of business, leaving the higher priced items like cakes as the only means of getting an opportunity to stand in the autograph line. Customers didn’t seem to mind buying them if these were all that was left and as the proprietors of Sugarcube Corner, Carrot Cake and Cup Cake were only too happy to sell them. Pinkie’s second promotional idea utilized her uncanny talent for remembering everything about her new friends. A free catering job was offered to any repeat customer who got an autograph from Pinkie if she couldn’t remember their name. The challenge was too much for most ponies to resist and they would return months after their initial visit to buy a treat, stand in line and revisit Pinkie – only to be greeted by name on the spot every time. The promotion was so successful that one customer bought a wedding cake for his chance to win the catering job – and he was already married. The Cakes were so grateful to Pinkie for the monumental increase in their sales that they doubled her wages and gave her greater freedom to mingle with customers during business hours, both of which made Pinkie one very happy pony. A heavier purse certainly had its advantages but being in the company of good friends had already made them rich in ways that no amount of bits could ever replace. Pinkie held three cards upright on the card table’s surface while Rarity magically levitated her lone card off to her left above the playing surface. “Oh, yeah,” said Pinkie as she retrieved her two of diamonds and knitted her brow. “This game was a lot more fun when Fluttershy was playing with us, don’t you think?” “Maybe for you,” remarked Rarity, “but I must respectfully disagree. Fluttershy deliberately played poorly so as not to hurt our feelings if we lost.” “Really? Awww, that was so sweet of her!” “Be that as it may, Horse-drawn & Quartered is not a game designed for ponies to be sweet to one another. Its origins lie in the Pre-Hearth’s Warming Eve dark ages, based on an actual historical event.” Rarity rose from her seat and stood on her hind legs, spreading her forelegs outward and adding no small amount of melodrama to her tale. “Four earth ponies, all strangers to one another, were captured by Chancellor Puddinghead’s guards and imprisoned in a dungeon together, accused of a serious crime they did not commit.” “Oh, I know this stor-” “They were sentenced to capital punishment and their execution was to take place the following morning,” continued Rarity, “but all was not lost. A small unbarred passage just large enough for a pony to squeeze through was found up high on one of the cell walls. The passage led outside and could juuuuuust barely be reached by standing atop another pony’s shoulders if the pony on the ground stood on their hind legs. This was their ticket to freedom but unfortunately there wouldn’t be enough tickets to go around. Without another pony’s shoulders to stand on, one pony would be left unable to scale the wall and would have to remain behind to face their grisly demise come morning. The risk of getting caught was too great for an escapee to return with a rope for the last pony. The prisoners searched their cell for straws to draw but found nothing – except for a dingy old box containing a complete deck of playing cards. They played this very game to determine which of them got to escape come nightfall. The original name of this game was lost to history but ever since that famous escape, it was redubbed Horse-drawn and Quartered in memory of the unlucky pony who met his end honorably, if not painlessly.” Rarity closed her eyes and gave the long-deceased pony a moment of silence. Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes, placed her elbow on the table and rested her jaw atop her hoof, waiting for Rarity to finish talking. “To make a successful escape in Horse-drawn and Quartered,” continued Rarity, “one must master the every-pony-for-themselves psychology of the game as well as its subtle intricacies. The art of the declaration. The vigilance to maintain locks on your opponent’s draw piles while freeing up your own. The patience to withhold a joker for countering the one key play that will turn the game in your favor. The resolve to bluff your opponent to play cards where they think you don’t want them played. And the initiative to go for the kill when an opening appears.” As Rarity sneered and stared into space with narrow pupils, she knitted her brow and rubbed her hooves together in a sinister fashion that was as disconcerting as it was comical. Though Rarity was loath to admit it, a dark and unladylike side of her personality would occasionally surface when she played this game and she seemed to enjoy this metamorphosis a bit more than she probably should have. She noticed Pinkie Pie leering at her out of the corner of her eye and, after clearing her throat and primping her mane, Rarity quickly refurbished her countenance to that of a more dignified mare. “A-As I was saying, Fluttershy is a delightful pony and a wonderful friend but she’s simply not cut out for ruthlessness, not even to play a friendly game. I see little point in playing with somepony who hoofs you the victory without putting up a fight. Fortunately for us, I’m not so accommodating and neither are you... so this game has been quite interesting. It’s still your play, Pinkie.” Pinkie Pie extended her neck toward Rarity to an absurd length until they were practically face-to-face, shrewdly examining Rarity’s eyes for any tells. Rarity responded by batting her eyelashes and grinning in a way that suggested that she encouraged Pinkie to find anything on her face that gave away her intentions. “You’re planning on going out on a three of diamonds again, aren’t you?” asked Pinkie suspiciously. “What?” asked Rarity “Pfah! This again?” She tilted her head upward and looked up at the ceiling, twirling her right hoof dismissively in reaction to Pinkie Pie’s hurtful accusation. “Honestly! You girls seem to be convinced that I have some sort of obsession with that card simply because my cutie mark just so happens to consist of three diamonds. How could you think me so petty? I thought you knew me better than that, Pinkie Pie. Why, if I were a lesser pony, I’d be offended.” “Then how do you explain the fact that you’ve gone out on a three of diamonds at least a half dozen times before... and did a victory dance every time you went out on a three of diamonds... and sang your ‘Diamonds Of Three, How I Love Thee’ song while you danced every time you went out on a three of diamonds?” “Sheer speculation and circumstantial evidence, I assure you. You’re reading way too much into this. It’s quite sad, really.” “I’ll tell you what’s sad. That song of yours runs 4:17. Four... hoofing... seventeen. That’s, like, a minute and a half longer than any song about a playing card has any right to be.” Rarity huffed at this criticism. “Need I remind you of the time you sang that song about cold water? Didn’t that run 2:32?” “I was running a fever that dayyyyy!” shouted Pinkie in her defense as she reared her head upward, embarrassed by her ridiculous choice of subject matter, even by her standards. “Oh, don’t get bent out of shape about it,” said Rarity. “I’m only teasing you.” She smirked slyly as she rotated her card in the air. “In all fairness, though, I suppose this card could be the three of diamonds... but we won’t find that out until you lay down one of your three cards, now, will we? And there isn’t a winner in Horse-drawn and Quartered, Pinkie; more accurately, the last one left is the loser. You could draw instead of playing a card but that would then increase your hand to four cards. I’d also get to unlock a draw pile of my choice.” “But there aren’t any piles that are loc-” “...but there aren’t any piles that are locked to me,” interrupted Rarity proudly followed by a short giggle of satisfaction. “Hearts and spades are locked to you, however, leaving clubs as the only non-diamond suit in which you may play a card. Oh, and you could pass if you have no club cards but then I get to declare any suit of my choice for the new round which means I could play my one card and be out... unless my card is actually a joker which, as we both know, can only be played in response to an opponent’s card as it’s being played to return it to their hand for the rest of the round.” Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes and reminded herself that this was, as Rarity said, a friendly game. “It’s still your play, Pink-ie Piiiiie,” chirped Rarity. As Rarity looked on with a muted grin, Pinkie alternated between examining the layout on the table and the cards she had in hoof. Just like Rarity had so extravagantly illustrated, the options left to her were few. If Rarity did have a three of diamonds, Pinkie’s two of diamonds would have made it unplayable, thus locking her out of that pile. Placing her open mouth over her chosen card, Pinkie carefully bit down on it and pulled it out from her remaining cards. Rarity’s eyes slowly grew wider as she waited patiently for Pinkie’s card to hit the table. Pinkie leaned in, placed her card on the club discard pile and leaned back to a seated position. “Five of clubs,” sighed Pinkie Pie. She placed her head on the table, waiting for Rarity’s predictable card drop and to be subjected to yet another performance of her worn out song. Rarity saw the five of clubs and she allowed herself a genuine grin. That grin slowly evolved into a wicked smile which then gave way to an equally wicked chuckle. She quickly stood on her hind legs and planted both forehooves on the table. “THREE OF DIAMONDS!” squealed Rarity enthusiastically as she telekinetically slapped her last card down and then fanned herself with her hoof with a quizzical look on her face. “Goodness gracious... Is it ‘extraordinary card player’ in here... or is it just moi?” Closing her eyes, Rarity smiled and swayed her head from side to side in time to the first few notes of the musical intro to Diamonds of Three, How I Love Thee which started to play. When the cue for the first verse arrived, she opened her mouth to sing. “JO-KERRR!!” yelled Pinkie Pie as she slapped the named card down on the table, effectively countering Rarity’s play. Rarity’s background musical accompaniment stopped. Her eyes opened but her mouth was frozen open from when she was just about to start singing the first verse of her song. “Andsinceyoudon’thaveanyothercardsyoucanplayfortherestoftheturn....TWO OF DIAMONDS AND I’M OUT!! I WIN!! WOOOOO!!!! I mean... I DIDN’T LOSE! WOOOOO!!!” Pinkie zipped behind Rarity, climbed up her back and stood on her shoulders to simulate her escape. “You’re horse-drawn and quartered and I’m not!” Pinkie walked off Rarity and crawled on the air above the card table through the imaginary passageway per the legend of Horse-drawn and Quartered. When Pinkie reached the spot just above her seat cushion, she humored gravity by falling back to the ground and sitting. “That was so close! Wowie zowie, it’s so hard for me to keep a poker face going! Good game, Rarity! I was afraid that you might have had the other joker or maybe a clubs card lower than five and you were just trying to psyche me out. I see what you mean now about how satisfying the challenge is when you’re playing against someone who’s really trying to win... or not to lose.” Rarity’s left eye twitched as her smile slowly melted from her face. “Bah-Beh-Bah...” stammered Rarity. “But... where did... oh, but... when did you... how long have you had a joker?” “Oh, I’ve had it since the opening draw,” replied Pinkie proudly. “Pretty lucky, huh?” “Since the... whaaaaaat?” crowed Rarity. Her pupils narrowed at the news of this bold stratagem. “You held onto a joker this whole time? But why on earth didn’t you play it earlier when I locked the spades pile or the hearts pile?” “Turns out that I didn’t need to. Right before you locked me out of the hearts pile, I had just played my last heart card and the same thing happened right around when you locked the spades pile. I just played what I had wherever I could and hoped for the best. And since the best you can hope for is not to lose... and I didn’t... it totally worked!” “Pinkie Pie, I believe that you feinted with your two of diamonds just to get my hopes up before dashing them to pieces.” “Sheer speculation and circumstantial evidence, I assure you. And I was sooooooo looking forward to hearing your song. But don’t worry, I’ve got one of my own.” Pinkie stood on her hind legs, closed her eyes and performed a victory dance. “Go, Pin-kie, it’s-your-birth-day, poor Rarity, it’s-her-last-day, da-da dee dee, da-da dum dum...” Rarity grimaced as she smoothed her hoof across her fabulous white tummy and shuddered, imagining herself being strapped to a filthy executioner’s table and then having her innards savagely extracted through her midsection as though she were a wool sweater being unravelled, all while spectators looked on with indifference. She glared at Pinkie, irritated by how joyfully the unsympathetic party pony was whooping it up in light of her imaginary disembowelment. “Hmph! This game was a lot more fun when Fluttershy used to play with us,” declared a pouting Rarity as she lay her head atop her forelegs on the card table, looking at the card with which she had almost won the game. In Rarity’s opinion, anything that was worth doing was worth doing with style and being denied her signature three-of-diamonds victory was worth sulking over. A small red object landed on the face of her favorite card with an audible tap and Rarity’s eyes were instantly drawn to it. For a moment, it appeared to her as if the card had sprouted a fourth diamond. Upon further inspection, Rarity was able to determine what the object was – and it was far from a diamond. It was a drop of blood. Rarity looked up at Pinkie Pie and recoiled at the sight of blood trickling freely from both of her friend’s eyes, both of which were closed. Judging by the fact that Pinkie continued to pirouette and frolic, Rarity deduced that Pinkie herself must have been oblivious to her condition. “Good heavens, Pinkie Pie,” said Rarity as she stood on all four hooves and approached Pinkie. “Your eyes are bleeding.” “Say what now?” asked Pinkie Pie as she stopped dancing. Her smile was quickly replaced by a look of dread as she touched her neck and face where she felt a slight tickle and found her own blood on her hooves. “Holy spumoni! I’ve sprung a leak!” “Has this happened to you before?” “No, never.” “Did you graze your face with your hoof while you were dancing?” Rarity used her magic to open a drawer from a dresser at the far end of the room, removed a hoofkerchief from it and brought it closer to them. “No. My eyes don’t hurt or anything. It must be coming out of my... tear ducts?” Pinkie Pie sat on the floor and blinked repeatedly as the blood continued to flow, holding her forehooves under her cheekbones to prevent more of it from trickling down her body. Hooves did not make very good makeshift receptacles, however, and for lack of a better solution, she smeared the blood into the fur of her cheeks to keep any more of it from spilling onto Rarity’s floor. “So it would seem,” said Rarity as she levitated the square of white fabric in front of Pinkie. “Here, use this hoofkerchief.” “Thanks,” whimpered Pinkie, quickly accepting the hoofkerchief and using it to wipe her face. “Sorry for messing up your floor.” “No need to apologize, dear. You didn’t intend for this to happen. This is so curious. I didn’t think it was biologically possible for tear ducts to shed blood – and certainly not to this extent. Oh, my, it’s not stopping, is it? Do you feel weak?” “No,” replied Pinkie. “Why? Should I? Is this enough to pass out? How worried should I be?” “I’m no doctor but I’ve heard that you can go into shock from blood loss. We should get you to an infirmary right away.” Rarity turned her head to the side to call out to her sister. “Sweetie Belllllle? Oh, that’s right, she isn’t here.” “Rrrrrrgh!” growled Pinkie as she scrunched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. “Pickles! I got it in my eyes and now it stings! Owie.” She rubbed at her face with her hoof, soiling her face further in the process. The coppery scent of the blood was thick in the air and Pinkie buried her face in the hoofkerchief as she started to weep a bit. She had never dealt with anything like this before. “Oh, don’t rub them, dear,” suggested Rarity. “That will only make it worse. Here, let’s wash you up in my salon sink.” Rarity levitated Pinkie Pie and galloped to her private salon room with Pinkie in tow. Ordinarily, Pinkie would let out a high pitched “whee!” of delight whenever Rarity would levitate her, which was enough to discourage Rarity from levitating her at all. Now, Pinkie was dead silent – which clued Rarity in on how frazzled Pinkie was by her ordeal. She gently lowered Pinkie into the salon chair, secured Pinkie’s hair inside a shower cap, reclined the backrest and carefully laid her neck in the sink’s neck rest. “Now keep your eyes and mouth closed and try to relax,” said Rarity as she turned on both faucets. Once she achieved a comfortable warm temperature, she used the hose attachment to diligently rinse Pinkie’s eyelids, snout and cheeks free of blood, taking care not to let any water run into Pinkie’s ears. Pinkie hadn’t had her face washed by another pony since she was a filly and she found that she missed the gentle touch of a caretaker’s hoof. The soothing warmth of the water coupled with the care Rarity was giving her provided Pinkie with more than enough reason to relax. She knew that Rarity had no great love of blood or any substance that had the potential to stain fabric. This was merely what friends did without hesitation for a friend in need. Slowly but surely, Pinkie found herself starting to feel better and she smiled despite her unnerving condition. Rarity noticed Pinkie’s frown turn upside down and she started to smile herself. She wondered how often she had made her earth pony friend smile compared to the number of times Pinkie had made her smile and concluded that Pinkie had left her far behind. In an act of spontaneity, Rarity slowly raised her left hind leg and gave Pinkie a soft poke in the tummy with her hoof. Pinkie let out a giddy squeal and then laughed. Rarity giggled and turned the water off. “Well,” said Rarity, “the bleeding has stopped. I can’t see that as anything but good news.” “Oh, thank Celestia,” said Pinkie, keeping her eyes shut and standing on her hind legs. “And thank you, Rarity.” “You’re quite welcome. I still think you should visit a doctor, though. It may have stopped but it must be indicative of a more serious condition.” Rarity applied and lathered a small amount of coat shampoo to Pinkie’s face for good measure and rinsed that away as well. Rarity removed the hose attachment and left the water running for Pinkie whose hooves were too bloodstained to touch the faucet handles without getting them dirty. “You wash up those hooves; I’ll get the lights and when you’re ready, we’ll nip off to the clinic together to get you examined. With any luck, there won’t be a long wait.” She dabbed Pinkie’s face dry with a telekinetically-held small white towel while drying her own hooves with a different towel. “Thanks,” said Pinkie Pie softly. “And Rarity?” “Yes?” Pinkie grinned gently. Her eyes glossed over with tears of sincerity and gratitude. “I want you to know... that if we were both earth ponies in a dungeon together like the Horse-drawn and Quartered prisoners, we wouldn’t have to play a game to decide which of us got to leave. I’d volunteer to let you climb on my shoulders so that you could escape. I could never live a happy life knowing that I left one of my best friends behind to be executed.” There were times – and Rarity had borne witness to many such occasions – when Pinkie could be abrasive, inconsiderate, boisterous and gluttonous; sometimes all four at once. And then there were times such as this when Pinkie would say or do something that showed her true colors as a pony whose friendship was an honest-to-Celestia blessing to have. Oddly enough, the latter had a tendency to wash out the former. “Awwwwww, Pinkie Pie... That has to be the sweetest thing that anyone’s ever said to me.” Rarity closed her eyes and smiled warmly. “I’m truly touched. Thank you, darling.” “You’re welcome,” chirped Pinkie with a smile as she turned her back on Rarity for a moment to wash her hooves in the sink. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” Rarity’s expression went blank as she imagined herself enduring the second portion of her imaginary execution: having her fabulous limbs simultaneously wrenched from her torso by ropes tied to four ponies running in opposite directions. She flinched with sympathy pain at the moment of her dismemberment, thankful that these were civilized times in which she lived. “Wwwwwwwwhyyyyyy, of... course I would do the same for you,” said Rarity with a nervous smile as her eyes shifted from side to side. “In a heartbeat. A-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.” An uneasy feeling overcame Rarity as something ominous occurred to her. She was hesitant to share her theory with Pinkie but it needed to be said. “Oh, dear. Pinkie, I just had a dreadful thought. What if there’s nothing wrong with your health-” Pinkie gasped deeply, which caused Rarity to pause. “Oh, no!” cried Pinkie as she reared her head back. “That is dreadful! AAAAAAAAAAAA!!” Pinkie stopped screaming and raised an eyebrow. “Wait, how is being healthy dreadful?” “You didn’t let me finish. What if what just happened wasn’t because you’re ill but because you just experienced a new Pinkie sense sign?” “I hope not,” said Pinkie as she dried off her hooves. “Even my doozy shiver isn’t...” Pinkie gasped as she held her hooves to her face. “Oh, no again! That is dreadful again! What if it was a new Pinkie sense sign warning me that something equally dreadful is about to happen? Or maybe even more dreadful? I mean, it’s blood. How could it not be dreadful? And has the dreadful thing happened already or is it about to happen? Is it going to happen to me? Or to you? What if it happens to both of us? What if...” Suddenly, Pinkie screamed and held her head. “AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” “What is it?” asked Rarity. “A deranged stallion escapes from the Ponyville psychiatric ward, breaks down your door with an axe, cuts off our heads and our hooves, reattaches them to the other’s body with duct tape and replaces your rooftop carousel ponies with our corpses for ALL OF PONYVILLE TO GAWK AT IN HORRORRRRR!” Rarity trembled as her pupils narrowed. She didn’t want to be murdered; it would delay the release of her fall lineup dramatically. “Is th-th-that a P-P-Pinkie sense p-prediction?” whimpered Rarity. Returning to her previous calm demeanor, Pinkie closed her eyes and waved her hoof dismissively. “Nah, I just made it up,” she said, “but why rule out anything, y’know?” Rarity was about to excoriate Pinkie for frightening her when a series of forceful knocks suddenly pounded against the front door of Carousel Boutique. The noise scared Pinkie and Rarity half to death and they screamed as they held each other. “Oh, look, you silly thing,” said Rarity through chattering teeth, “you’ve gone and scared yourself with your outrageous stories, ha ha. It’s probably just a customer.” “Or it could be a deranged stallion from the Ponyvi–mmph!” Pinkie’s mouth was plugged up by Rarity’s hoof. “Or it could just be a customer,” insisted Rarity as she removed her hoof from Pinkie’s mouth. “Be a dear and tell them that we’re closed, would you?” Pinkie took in a deep breath. “WE’RE CL-mmmph!” Pinkie’s mouth was plugged up by Rarity’s hoof again. “I meant closer to the door,” said Rarity. “And without screaming, if you would be so kind.” An irritated Pinkie moved Rarity’s foreleg away from her face. “If you’re gonna keep putting your hoof in my mouth,” noted Pinkie, “you could at least have the decency to dip it in cake frosting first!” “PINKIE PIE, OPEN THE HOOFING DOOR!” shouted a voice from behind the door. “That sounds like Rainbow Dash,” said Pinkie. She quickly opened the door and found that it was indeed Rainbow Dash who had been the source of the knocking. “Hi, Rain-” The cyan pegasus immediately flew past Pinkie and stopped in front of Rarity. Pinkie closed the door and walked over to her friends. “Rarity!” shouted a distraught Rainbow Dash as she hovered in front of her. “Thank Celestia you’re home! There’s been an accident by the bridge over the tracks! A filly was killed! Run over by a train!” Pinkie’s jaw dropped. “Oh, how awful!” said Rarity as her face contorted to reflect her sympathy. “Was it the filly of anypony we know?” Rainbow shook her head rapidly. “That’s just it!” shouted Rainbow. “The emergency crew hasn’t identified the body yet so nopony knows who it was!” Rainbow Dash firmly held onto Rarity’s shoulders and looked at her with desperate eyes. “Rarity– please tell me you know where the Crusaders are!” “The Crusaders?” asked Rarity. “Sweetie Belle said she’d be with her friends at their clubhouse at Sweet Apple Acres. Oh, the poor dears; the filly might be a friend of theirs from sch-” Rarity’s pupils narrowed and she screamed as she grasped Rainbow Dash’s meaning: the deceased filly might be Sweetie Belle or one of the other Crusaders. Rarity might have fainted were it not for the dire need to stay alert and verify that her sister was alive and well. “Oh, my! You don’t think that...?” “I dunno! That’s why we’ve gotta make sure! I’ll fly ahead and meet you at their clubhouse!” “Oh, Sweetie Belle, please be all right!” Rarity turned her head in every which direction and trotted in place, not sure what to do first. Her heart rate soared and her stomach turned. Finally deciding on a course of action, she used her magic to toss her shop keys to Pinkie as she ran for the door. “Pinkie, I’m sorry but I have to go to Sweet Apple Acres! Please lock up for me!” Pinkie nodded once, catching the keychain in her teeth effortlessly. As Rarity ran off to find her sister, Pinkie was now alone in Carousel Boutique. She turned her head and looked into the featureless faces of Rarity’s ponnequins and she trembled as she found herself haunted by several unanswered questions. What if the blood that flowed from her eyes earlier was indeed a Pinkie sense signal that was portending the death of this unidentified filly? What if the filly was a native Ponyvillian friend of hers? And if this really was a Pinkie sense sign, how would everypony else react to her if they saw her shedding these horrifying tears of blood when she was out in public? Would they still want to be her friends if they knew that she was a harbinger of death? Applejack was out in the north field of Sweet Apple Acres penciling in some crop tallies on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard. The sun would not be out for too much longer and so she hurried to get the final figures for the day’s harvest so that she wouldn’t have any catch-up work to do tomorrow morning. She caught a mistake she made on her worksheet and turned the pencil around with her lips to erase it. She wasn’t fond of the taste of pencil erasers or graphite but she was even less fond of mouthwriting with a flimsy quill. Despite her lamentation, she had done farm-related accounting work for all of her adult life and would continue do so for the remainder of her life. Complaining once would mean that she had a complaint for life and she saw no reason to load her wagon with domestic grief when the foreign variety such as insects, droughts and floods were already weighing her down. Having erased her mistake, she blew the eraser fragments away and began to turn the pencil back around to its writing position. “Applejack!” shouted Rainbow Dash as she hovered ten feet above the earth pony. Applejack was so startled by Rainbow’s sudden shout that she bit clean through her pencil’s eraser which caused the pencil itself to fall to the ground as well as sending a chunk of eraser down Applejack’s throat. She reflexively swallowed the eraser chunk. “Augh!” cried Applejack, grimacing and sticking out her tongue. “Well... at least it wouldn’t be the worst thing ah’ve swallowed.” She frowned at Rainbow and growled. “Cornsarn it, Rain-” “Meet me at your sister’s clubhouse – stat!” blurted Rainbow before flying off at breakneck speed in the direction of the clubhouse, leaving a radiant rainbow trail in her wake. Applejack quickly planted a hoof atop her hat to keep it from being blown away. “Ya know I ain’t got time fer none o’ yer silly fan club meetin’s, Rainbow,” said Applejack. “Ah’ve got a harvest ta count! Dadblasted mare’s got a head bigger’n mah family’s orchard.” Muttering to herself, Applejack picked up her pencil and resumed her work. Off in the distance, she heard somepony’s thundering hooves galloping toward her and she quickly spat out her pencil to prevent any further accidental consumption of writing implements. A few seconds later, Rarity came running into view. The unicorn was exerting herself to keep up with Rainbow Dash’s rainbow trail which was slowly fading away. “Rarity?” queried Applejack. “What in tarnation’s goin’ on?” “Follow us, Applejack!” cried Rarity as she ran past Applejack. Applejack snorted to clear her nostrils of the dust clouds that Rarity had left in her wake. She muttered some more and picked up her pencil and clipboard to continue counting her apples. She stopped counting for a moment and looked in the direction of the clubhouse. The worry present in Rarity’s tone gave Applejack cause for concern. The fashionista wasn’t known for attending Rainbow Dash’s fan club meetings and Applejack was slowly becoming more and more convinced that something more important was taking place at the clubhouse. Was it more important than her work? There would be no way to find out unless she checked it out herself. She alternated between looking at her clipboard and the path to the clubhouse. “Oh, fer Pete’s sake,” said Applejack, spitting out her pencil. “This had better be worth it.” Nudging her hat forward, Applejack galloped to the clubhouse. Apple Bloom walked gingerly up the ramp leading to the front door of the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse. During her visit to the house, she had prepared several peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a thermos of lemonade, both of which she carried in her saddlebags. The refreshments weren’t at risk of being damaged had she walked at a normal pace. The reason Apple Bloom was taking such delicate hoofsteps was so that she could walk around the side of the clubhouse undetected and mischievously startle her friends by screaming at them through the window. She had made it to the top of the steps and as she prepared to turn, she heard Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s voices well enough to make out what they were saying. “Come on, Sweetie Belle,” begged Scootaloo. “Be a pal.” “No,” declared Sweetie Belle. “Just once?” “Uh-uh.” Apple Bloom knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on her friends but she couldn’t resist the urge to do so. She placed her ear against the front door and listened in on the conversation. “Aren’t you even the least bit curious about what it’s like?” asked Scootaloo. “No,” said Sweetie Belle. “How could you not be? Didn’t you think it looked fun the first time you saw it?” “Well... okay, so maybe it looked a little fun... but I’d feel weird doing it myself.” Feel weird about what? wondered Apple Bloom. “You’d be doing it with me, though,” noted Scootaloo. “That’s got to count for something, right?” “I’d just feel so embarrassed if anypony saw us doing it.” said Sweetie Belle. If anypony saw them doin’ what? wondered Apple Bloom. “Nopony will see us if we do it here and now,” said Scootaloo. “Apple Bloom should be back here any minute. Why don’t you ask her to do it with you?” “Because she’d just say that it would be wrong for us to do it.” “That’s how I feel, which is why I don’t want to do it.” Apple Bloom scratched her head. What would ah think is wrong... Wait a second... are they... talkin’ about... Naw, it can’t be. Can it? Aw, come on, girls! In our clubhouse? What’s the matter with y’all? Wait... think logically, Apple Bloom. They’re your friends. Applejack says that ya’ve gotta give your friends the benefit of the doubt. “What if I let you borrow my scooter for a day?” asked Scootaloo. “You’d really let me borrow your scooter for a whole day?” asked Sweetie Belle. “If you promise to take good care of it, sure. Do we have a deal?” “Well... all right.” “Awesome! Are you ready?” “Yeah, I guess. Just don’t do it too fast.” “I won’t. Okay, so first you lift your right hind leg while I lift my left hind leg-” “I know, I know.” All right, that does it! thought Apple Bloom. Benefit, schmenefit! Ah’m goin’ in... an’ if they’re doin’ what ah think they’re doin’ on mah family’s property, ah’ll whoop the tar outta both of ‘em! Apple Bloom swung open the front door and marched inside, hoping not to see anything she would regret seeing and ready to discipline her friends, if necessary. She did not see Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle doing anything that she regretted seeing. What she did see them doing was still very unexpected. “Bump, bump, sugar lump rump,” said Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo simultaneously as they performed all four steps of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s trademark hoofshake. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo shared a giggle after completing the final rump bump step. The giggling stopped once they turned their attention to the door and saw that Apple Bloom had seen them doing the hoofshake of the enemy. They quickly disengaged their rumps and stood apart from one another in embarrassment, fearing that they could now be tried for high treason. Apple Bloom said nothing. She simply stood and stared with her jaw hanging open. “Oh, h-hi, Apple Bloom!” said Sweetie Belle nervously as beads of sweat ran down her forehead. “N-Now before you say anything, I want you to know that I still love our official Cutie Mark Crusader high hoof. What you saw was just...” Sweetie Belle struggled to remember the expression that she had heard Rarity use. “...a flight of fancy. It meant nothing to me – honest!” “Uh, yeah, same here,” said Scootaloo, perspiring enough to rival Sweetie Belle. “I-I wouldn’t have done it at all... except... Sweetie Belle here was practically begging me to do it with her so I caved in.” Scootaloo’s mouth scrunched up and her eyes shifted from side to side. “What?” squeaked Sweetie Belle as she faced Scootaloo. “That’s a lie! Apple Bloom deserves to know the truth...” Sweetie Belle smirked diabolically at Scootaloo. “Maybe starting with the true story of a filly that shared a kiss with Featherweight last Hearts and Hooves Day?” Scootaloo gasped and her face turned red. She pointed a quivering hoof at Sweetie Belle and bared her teeth. “One more word – just one – and you’ll be sorry!” Scootaloo bumped both forehooves together as she stared at Sweetie Belle, illustrating that she meant business. “Geez Louise, Scootaloo. What’s the big deal? It was just one little kiss...” Sweetie Belle smiled. “...with tongue.” In the blink of an eye, Scootaloo leapt at Sweetie Belle and the two fillies began brawling in a rolling cloud of dust. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” said Apple Bloom as she finally pieced together her friends’ earlier words and matched them against the hoof bump. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stopped fighting and looked at Apple Bloom. “What do you mean ‘ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’?” asked Scootaloo, struggling to catch her breath. “And what are you smiling about?” asked Sweetie Belle who was also huffing and puffing. Apple Bloom lay on her back, covered her face with her hooves and snickered, amused by how silly it was of her to have assumed the worst of her friends. Confused by the laughter, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked at each other before looking at Apple Bloom once more. “What’s so funny?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Ah thought y’all were... doin’ somethin’ completely different,” said Apple Bloom. She bit her lip and continue to snort and chuckle. “Like what?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Yeah, like what, Apple Bloom?” asked Scootaloo with a bit more suspicion in her tone than in Sweetie Belle’s. “Ummm...” Apple Bloom hesitated to reveal her theory, fully expecting Scootaloo to throttle her for suggesting such a thing. “Ah thought you were gonna try ta make Sweetie Belle-” “SQUIRT!” All three fillies screamed from the startling shout of a stranger in the clubhouse. They looked in the direction of the shout and saw Rainbow Dash hovering by the front door mere moments before she flew straight into Scootaloo and tackle her. Both protege and mentor rolled across the floor together in a two-pony ball and when they came to a stop, Rainbow Dash was on her back and hugging Scootaloo tightly in her forelegs. Overjoyed that Scootaloo was safe and sound, Rainbow openly wept tears of relief in between her gasping. The sound was alien to the fillies since they had never heard Rainbow Dash cry before. Ordinarily, Scootaloo was opposed to engaging in public displays of affection but if it was with Rainbow Dash, she could make an exception. “R-Rainbow Dash, what gives?” asked Scootaloo, stumped as to what had brought about this hurried embrace. Rainbow Dash looked up at the living, breathing and unharmed Scootaloo who appeared to be warped due to the tears and smiled. “I love you, squirt,” squeaked Rainbow Dash, her voice cracking in random spots. Her eyes were shut tightly and the fur below them was a darker shade of blue where it was damp with tear trails that were continuously being provided with more liquid. “You might have thought that I did or hoped that I did but I never actually told you. I’m so sorry about that. When you want to be cool, you avoid doing things that might make you look soft. But when I thought I might’ve lost you, I was so scared. I thought that my stupid pride cost me my only chance to tell you... and now that I have a second chance, I’m not gonna waste it. I want to say it, I want you to hear it and I want you to know it! I love you so much, Scoots.” With that, Rainbow placed a kiss atop Scootaloo’s forehead. Rainbow Dash’s heartfelt words had obliterated the walls of Scootaloo’s ego as easily as the tide washes a sandcastle away from the shore. With tears rapidly swelling in her eyes and her heart bursting with a level of happiness she had never felt before, Scootaloo bawled out loud with the gusto of a filly half her age. She couldn’t help it. She had just received confirmation that she had something which she wanted more than a Cutie Mark, perhaps even more than she wanted to fly. She had the love of the pony she looked up to more than anypony else. Scootaloo hugged Rainbow Dash back and tried to thank her and say that she loved her in return but her throat had a lump in it and all that came out of her mouth was a squeaky croaking sound, followed by more crying. Tears welled up in Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom’s eyes, moved by the display of affection that their best friend had received. As they wiped their eyes, they looked at one another and shared a smile. Like Scootaloo, they wondered what had prompted Rainbow Dash to come here but not enough to interrupt this beautiful moment. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle’s ears angled toward the door as they heard hoofsteps clunking haphazardly against the ramp and they turned around to see who was coming to visit them. Rarity scrambled into the clubhouse and squealed with happiness as she set her eyes upon Sweetie Belle. Without missing a beat, she ran toward her sister and dropped to her rump, sliding across the floor. When Sweetie Belle was within reach, Rarity hugged her tightly and lifted her off the floor. Seeing this entrance made Apple Bloom glad that she had taken the time to carefully sand down the clubhouse’s floorboards during its reconstruction. She had no doubt that Rarity’s plot appreciated it, too. “Oh, Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle...” said Rarity as she wept and sniffled, exhausted from her sprint and thankful that her brief yet harrowing nightmare was now over. Her sister was alive and well and she snuggled her closely. “Oh, thank Celestia you’re all right. I am so happy to see you, my sister. So very, very happy. I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.” “Rarity?” asked Sweetie Belle. “What’s going on?” Rarity hesitated to mention the victim of the train accident. “Wh-What’s going on... is... that I know a certain little sister who will be accompanying her big sister on a week long trip to Manehattan when summer vacation comes. We’ll visit all the tourist attractions, go shopping and dine in the finest restaurants... oh, we’ll have the most wonderful time together, you and I.” Sweetie Belle gasped deeply. “For real ?!” asked Sweetie Belle excitedly. “Can we visit Babs while we’re there?” “Whatever your little heart desires.” Rarity cradled her little sister’s head in her forelegs and stroked the crest of her mane with her hoof. Sweetie Belle was so overjoyed by the prospect of a Manehattan vacation with Rarity that she screamed with happiness and wiggled her hind legs. A few tiny green sparks of magic even burst forth from the tip of her still dormant horn. Rarity managed to sneak a chuckle through her sobs. She had never been so happy to hear that shrill cry of her sister’s. “I love you, Sweetie Belle,” said Rarity, placing her sister back on the floor. “Awwww, and I love you, too, Rarity! You’re the best big sister ever!” Sweetie Belle initiated a new hug which Rarity happily returned. As Rarity wiped away a tear, she noticed that Sweetie Belle’s mane was rough looking and areas of her coat were raised and matted with moisture. “You look rather disheveled, Sweetie Belle,” noted Rarity as she sniffled and began fixing her sister’s mane with magic. “Were you in an altercation?” “I wouldn’t exactly call it an altercation.” Sweetie Belle craned her neck out and addressed Scootaloo. “That means a fight, dodo; something you obviously can’t do without biting once every two seconds!” Scootaloo heard Sweetie Belle put down her fighting prowess and she did her best to break free of Rainbow Dash’s hug to continue their fight but couldn’t escape. “Oh, so you want me to kick your plot some more, secret spiller?” asked Scootaloo angrily. “Is that what you think happened?” asked Sweetie Belle as she tried to escape Rarity’s grasp to pound Scootaloo. “I must have hit you harder than I thought. Come here so I can smack you until you remember it right!” Sweetie Belle stopped moving for a moment to look up at Rarity. “Seriously, she fights like a snake.” Scootaloo blew a raspberry at Sweetie Belle in response to this insult and Sweetie Belle retorted with a raspberry of her own. That provoked Scootaloo to flail her legs about once again to remove herself from Rainbow Dash’s grasp and Sweetie Belle quickly followed suit. Both Rainbow Dash and Rarity held on to their respective wriggling holy terrors and smiled at one another, wordlessly communicating an absolute truth: girls would be girls. Apple Bloom’s mouth hung open in a smile of excitement as she turned to face the door. By her reckoning, if what had happened to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle was some sort of trend, it wouldn’t be long before Applejack would come running through the door to hug her to lavish her with affection. Apple Bloom heard the sound of hoofsteps coming up the ramp and she stood on her hind legs, hopping up and down and waving her forelegs in anticipation of her tearfully happy big sister’s arrival. With any luck, Applejack might even have a special surprise for her on par with Rarity’s vacation. Applejack entered the clubhouse at a pace that was far more relaxed than Rainbow Dash’s or Rarity’s. Apple Bloom froze. Her smile faded away and was replaced by a look of dejection and confusion. Her big sister didn’t appear to be any happier to see her than usual. “Applejack?” said Apple Bloom. “Ah’m over here.” She waved her forelegs once more to attract Applejack’s attention. “Ah can see that,” said Applejack. "'Scuse me." “Don’t ah at least get a hug?” “Later, sugarcube,” said Applejack, patting Apple Bloom on the head with a hoof as she walked past her on her way to Rainbow Dash and Rarity. Apple Bloom frowned and let her mouth hang open in disapproval. “It’s... just... not... fair,” said Apple Bloom as she sat in a corner and sulked. Her lower lip jutted out to form the pout to end all pouts. “Now that we’re all here,” said Applejack, “anypony mind tellin’ me what all the commotion’s about?” Rarity looked to Rainbow Dash and saw that the pegasus was too wrapped up in cuddling Scootaloo to answer Applejack’s question. She sniffled, cleared her throat and swallowed. “My apologies, Applejack,” said Rarity. “And please forgive us for our intrusion, Crusaders, but we’ve received some tragic news... and while I wish it wasn’t so, sharing it with you will regretfully cost you some of your innocence.” Apple Bloom stopped pouting and turned around to see that Rarity was quite serious. Rainbow Dash released Scootaloo and walked her over to Rarity before taking a seat behind Scootaloo and nestling against Scootaloo’s back with a wing wrapped around her. Rainbow nodded at Rarity to indicate that she should be the one to break the news to Applejack and the kids. The unicorn’s sophisticated manner of speech was definitely better suited to lessen the blow of such horrible news than her own blunt way of talking – and she wanted the news broken to the Cutie Mark Crusaders as gently as possible. Diamond Tiara sat on one of several red plastic chairs that were bolted to the floor of a medium sized white room that was imprinted with the nearly overwhelming smell of freshly dried paint. Apart from the rows of chairs against the walls, there was a similarly bolted coffee table every five chairs; most contained newspapers and empty paper cups left behind by previous occupants. The walls were adorned with a multitude of posters and leaflets informing detainees of their rights. She had been placed in this room by one of the officers that had brought Silver Spoon and her to the Ponyville Police Precinct for questioning. They had been separated immediately upon arrival and, after Diamond Tiara had wrapped up her interrogation, it was determined that she would be detained here until her father came to get her. Diamond Tiara looked up at the ceiling and saw the dozens of fireflies buzzing around in the light fixtures. The poor creatures were just as trapped in this place as she was. She didn’t like it here. She was out of her element. She had no control over when she could leave, she had missed her supper, she wanted Silver Spoon to keep her company and she wanted her tiara back. The police had confiscated it when she was processed for detention and she was told she would get it back when she was released. She had become so accustomed to the tiara’s weight that its absence was exacerbating the headache she had from the bump on her head where Twist struck her. The more she pondered her situation, the angrier she became – which only made her head hurt more. She tried to put her woes out of her mind but she was unsuccessful. She fancied herself a genius and geniuses couldn’t stop thinking. They had too much brainpower to suppress their thoughts. She wasn’t like the rest of her class that was mostly comprised of dimwits, nitwits and halfwits who could probably clear their minds with the assistance of a stray butterfly or a shiny object. Even the Cutie Mark Crusaders were out of her league. Their simple blank flank minds and their pathetic small potatoes goals were so miniscule compared to Diamond Tiara’s destiny that it was truly laughable. She had big plans for the future and, oddly enough, she had Twist to thank for it. Or she would – if Twist wasn’t dead. Two earth pony fillies, one with a red coat and a white mane and the other with a white coat and a green mane, shared the room with her. They were talking to one another at the far end by the barred windows. Diamond Tiara had been keeping an eye on these two from the moment they were placed in this room with her fifteen minutes earlier. She assumed that they were accomplices who had been caught committing some sort of petty criminal act together and were also waiting for their parents to pick them up. The red-coated filly, who was the burlier of the pair, approached Diamond Tiara with a condescending smirk and a pompous swagger that Diamond knew all too well; she could tell that this one meant to pick on her. “What did you do to get thrown in here, precious?” asked the filly sarcastically. “Tear a ‘do not remove’ tag off of a cushion at Quills and Sofas?” Diamond Tiara heard the white-coated filly by the window snicker at the red one’s comment. Laughter at her expense was something that Diamond Tiara would not tolerate from anypony. “If you must know, I killed a filly in cold blood,” stated Diamond Tiara boldly as she closed her eyes. She hopped off her chair, stood on her hind legs and swung her forehooves forward to simulate a push. “Shoved her sorry plot into the path of an oncoming train like it was nothing. You can read all about it in tomorrow morning’s Ponyville Express headline. Unless you’d rather be tomorrow evening’s headline. In which case, keep sticking your nose in my business. I don’t have any spare trains on me, though. Guess we’ll both find out how creative I can be.” Diamond Tiara scraped her right forehoof against the tile flooring to show that she wasn’t afraid to throw down and fight – not even with dozens of police officers right outside the door. She had never had a fight in her life. She knew that showing fear or weakness would do more harm than good. The front she was putting up was fueled by her renewed confidence and her belief in her new mission. It was still a bit of a gamble to escalate this situation and she hoped that she wasn’t sweating. The filly chuckled at Diamond’s bravado and chose not to call her bluff. She coolly walked back to her associate. Diamond Tiara smirked. “Magic,” she whispered to herself as a gaggle of goosebumps ran down her back. The door to the detention room opened and all eyes fell on the supervising officer who had unlocked it. He brought in a gray filly who resembled Silver Spoon. She looked haggard and pallid as though she was pulling the weight of the world on a wagon. She walked slowly with her head hung low and her eyes were bloodshot as though she had been crying. Diamond Tiara stood on her hind legs. “Silver,” called out Diamond Tiara as she waved her hoof to catch her attention. When Silver Spoon heard her name called, she looked up and saw Diamond Tiara. “Diamond!” whimpered Silver Spoon as she ran to her and grabbed her in a hug. Silver Spoon was relieved to be reunited with her best friend and she began to cry. As Diamond Tiara held her friend, she found that she enjoyed the contact. It was a good thing to have a friend. Diamond Tiara turned her head to look at the two fillies and saw that they were watching her. “It’s okay, girls,” said Diamond Tiara. “Silver here was my bitch from my last stint in juvy and she’s just happy to see me.” To pad her lie further, Diamond Tiara gave Silver Spoon a smack across the buttocks. “What do you think you’re doing?” whispered a blushing Silver Spoon. “Take it easy," said Diamond Tiara. "I’m just polishing my rep, that’s all. It’s how you survive in the joint. Are you okay?” “No, I’m not,” said Silver Spoon, sniffling as she spoke. “I’m better now that I’m with you but, no, I’m really not okay.” “I finished talking to the detective over an hour ago. Why did they keep you so long?” “I was crying too much for them to understand what I was saying. And when I wasn’t crying, I was fainting. They had a nurse who gave me some frosted oatmeal cookies and some orange juice to get my blood sugar up. That must have done the trick because I didn’t faint again. I calmed down enough to talk but I still cried a lot, though.” Diamond Tiara’s mouth hung open. “White frosting?” she asked. “Hm? Oh. No, pink frosting,” replied Silver Spoon. Diamond Tiara’s eyes grew wide and she nibbled her forehooves. “I... adore... pink frosted oatmeal cookies!" exclaimed Diamond Tiara. "Were they moist and chewy or dry and crispy?” She held out a hoof to stop Silver Spoon from answering. “No, wait, I don’t want to know. Nnnnnnnnnn, okay, tell me, I do want to know!” “Moist and chewy.” “Son of a mule! I didn’t even get a lousy saltine cracker with my cup of water!” “Did you faint?” Diamond Tiara turned her head and directed her voice to the door. “Well, I GUESS that I’ll HAVE to since it LOOKS like that’s the only way a filly can get a DECENT SNACK AROUND HERE!” she shouted. “Do I have to come in there?” said a voice that came from behind the door. “Isn’t that what the mailpony asked your mom?” asked Diamond Tiara. Silver Spoon slapped her hooves over her mouth to keep from laughing at Diamond Tiara’s suggestive comment. There was no reply. “Diamond, what is wrong with you?” asked Silver Spoon. “Life on the inside has a way of changing a pony, Silver Spoon,” replied Diamond Tiara with an introspective gleam in her eye. Silver Spoon was perplexed by this answer. “What did you end up telling the police officers?” asked Diamond Tiara. “I told them everything they wanted to know," answered Silver Spoon. "I told them the truth about what happened.” She hung her head in shame. “Good. That’s exactly what I did. If you had told them lies, our stories wouldn’t have matched and this would have been a lot messier.” Diamond raised an eyebrow and held Silver Spoon’s braid in her hoof. “Hey... where’s your scrunchie?” “It was confiscated along with my pearls.” “They confiscated... a scrunchie? Seriously?” “They’ll give my stuff back when we get out of here.” “That’s not the point. I get why they took my tiara... I could even understand the pearls... but what harm could anypony possibly do with a scrunchie? Did they think you’d make a shiv out of it? It’s just one stupid thing after another with these cops” Diamond Tiara winced and held her head with her hoof. “I was told that some pegasus police officers have flown off to find my parents so that they can pick me up. Are your pare- I mean... is your father coming to get you?” It had momentarily slipped Silver Spoon’s mind that Diamond Tiara refused to speak about her mother, a mare that Silver had never even seen from the dozen or so times she had visited Diamond Tiara’s home. “Yeah, but I’m his little girl. If I explain to him that this was just a harmless prank that went badly, I’m sure that he’ll understand.” “I don’t know what my parents will do when they find out what happened. I live in Ponyville but they’ve got houses all over Equestria and they work in Canterlot most of the time. Oh, Diamond Tiara, if they take me out of Ponyville Elementary, you and I will be separated! I know that sounds, like, super shallow of me to think about myself with all that’s happened but I really don’t want to attend another school.” “Hey, relax, they’re not going to take you out of school over this.” “You don’t know that.” “Silver Spoon, our parents are rich and the law doesn’t apply to rich ponies the way it does to poor ponies. And we didn’t...” Diamond Tiara lowered her voice. “And we didn’t kill anypony, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to us.” “I remember hearing you say something like that before... and Twist was...” Silver Spoon’s voiced trailed off as she recalled the details of the train colliding with Twist. “I feel like it was my fault. I was scared. I didn’t want to get hurt fighting her and I didn’t want her to hurt you. I was the one who told her to go home. My ears are still ringing from the screech of that train slamming on its brakes.” “Yeah... about that. Let’s take a walk.” Silver Spoon followed Diamond Tiara to the farthest corner of the detention room and they sat side by side in the same chair. Diamond Tiara slumped forward and rested her forelegs on her lap. She drew in a long breath and released it slowly as if to prepare herself for sharing something with Silver Spoon that was of greater substance than their usual conversations. “For as long as I can remember, my dad called me ‘Princess’. I grew up in a mansion so, not knowing any better, I believed that I was a real princess. We didn’t leave our home much back then so I only knew what princesses were from the bedtime stories my dad used to read to me.” “Your dad read you bedtime stories?” asked Silver Spoon. “Well, yeah,” replied Diamond Tiara. “Not so much anymore since I’m bigger now and I don’t read kid’s books. Do you mean your dad never read to you?” “No.” Silver Spoon’s ears drooped. “All he’s ever read to me are boring old newspaper reviews of his fashion shows or his boutique in Canterlot. And my mom’s accent is so annoying that I’d rather she didn’t read to me. I could have asked one of my governesses but I’ve been told not to get attached to them since they could leave on any given day.” “That’s so sad. Every foal should be read a bedtime story at least once. Anyway, as I was saying...” “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” “That’s okay. I learned that princesses were special mares with great power, a land to rule, et cetera, et cetera. When I was still really small, my dad took me to a Canterlot Summer Sun Celebration so that I could see Princess Celestia, a real alicorn princess. She was beautiful... and a little scary because she was so tall. Everypony was cheering for her because they loved her so much. I could hardly believe that I was going to be just like her. In the crowd of ponies were some pegasus foals around my age that had wings and some unicorn foals with their horns but as a princess, I was going to have both and that automatically made me better than them. I asked my dad when my wings and horn would grow in and he told me that those were body parts you had to be born with. It broke my heart. I felt like I had been lied to. The truth was that I wasn’t special; not in the way that an alicorn was. When I saw Princess Celestia raise the sun, I knew for sure that I had been lied to. She could move the sun and the moon and I couldn’t even move the dining room table. I was so jealous and frustrated over my powerlessness that I cried. When you’re a powerless little earth pony filly, what else can you do, right? I was born an earth pony and I was going to stay an earth pony, whether I liked it or not. Mediocrity was my destiny and I hated mediocrity. I made the best of what talents I did have by winning the Little Miss Equestria Beauty Pageant. It was my first accolade – and I also got my cutie mark from it – but it was nothing compared to being an alicorn. Being editor-in-chief of The Foal Free Press was fun while it lasted but it was also a lot of hard work to keep it running smoothly. Everything else seemed third rate. But today? Today, when Twist walked away from us after she attacked me and I said ‘you’re a dead pony’ and she got hit by that train, I felt something. Just like that, she went from being alive to being dead; like, right after I said it. I know that it was just a freak accident... but...” A tear formed in Diamond Tiara’s eye and she hung her head. Silver Spoon rubbed her back to comfort her. “But... Tartaros, Silver Spoon...” Diamond Tiara closed her eyes and spoke in a hushed whisper through clenched teeth. “In that moment, it felt as though I commanded that train to mow her down – like I had real power coursing through me; the power to crush my enemies through sheer force of will. For that one glorious moment, I controlled magic. I was a real princess for a full second...” Diamond Tiara raised her head. She still had a tear in her eye but it was not shed out of pity or regret – but of joy. “...and I loved it.” Silver Spoon’s pupils narrowed in astonishment as she saw Diamond Tiara smile wider than she had ever seen her smile before. She was incredulous that Diamond Tiara took something away from Twist’s death other than remorse. “It was the closest I’ve ever come to having bona fide magic powers,” continued Diamond Tiara. “And now that I’ve had a taste of it, I want more. I am hooked and I need more; as much as I can get. I know now that I won’t ever be satisfied with any other pursuit in life. If you had asked me yesterday what I thought of Twist, I would have said that she was useless but now I know that she had a purpose. Her purpose was to teach me something. What I’ve learned from here is this: I’ve wasted so much time whining about the lemons that I’ve been given that I never even considered making lemonade. I won’t give in to mediocrity just because I’m not an alicorn. I may not be able to fly or use magic but I can take whatever power an earth pony can get her hooves on... and I won’t stop until I have it all. And I know exactly how to go about getting it.” “H-How?” asked Silver Spoon as she suppressed her dismay. “Well, for starters, I’m beautiful,” said Diamond Tiara, driving her point home by primping her mane. “Attractive ponies will always have an edge over average ponies just like rich ones have an edge over poor ones. When you’re rich, beautiful and talented, the world is your hay bale. You know how Miss Cheerilee teaches us about famous political figures in our history lessons?” Silver Spoon nodded. “Ponies respected them and gave them power by voting them into office. Even though they’re long gone, foals are still studying them in schools all over Equestria. That’s what I’ll be! A politician! When the time is right, I’ll run for mayor of Ponyville. My daddy has money and he’s made lots of connections with important ponies. When I tell him that I want to be a politician, I just know that he’ll contribute to my campaign fund. When I’m in the race, I’ll make all sorts of promises to voters that I have no intention of keeping once I win the election – and I’ll win it by a landslide. Then, big business ponies will throw their money my way to pass or prevent new laws that affect their bottom line and I’ll be sitting prettier than I’m already sitting.” “That doesn’t sound anything at all like what Miss Cheerilee said politicians are supposed to do. Are you sure that’s how it works?” “Positive. And then, when my term is up, I’ll run for even higher offices! And I’ll win those elections by landslides, too! You’ll see. Ponies everywhere will be falling over themselves giving rich, beautiful, talented me the power that I crave; the power I should have had since birth! I’ll be a princess in power, if not in body. The hardest part will be the wait but once I’m there, oh, Silver Spoon, it-will-be-glorious! Everypony in Equestria will be a guppy in my fishbowl! And then... when I’m second in power to Princess Celestia herself...” Diamond Tiara paused for a while and rubbed her chin pensively. “When I’m second in power... to Princess Celestia herself... we’ll see.” Silver Spoon recoiled as she looked into Diamond Tiara’s eyes. They were still blue and beautiful but she saw a darkness there that she had never noticed before. She saw a lust for power, the determination to make her dream a reality and an Equestria razed to the ground in the name of personal gain. “Yeah,” continued Diamond Tiara. “We’ll see if the sun can set... on an alicorn princess.” She slowly ran her tongue along her lower lip from one corner of her mouth to the other. Silver Spoon desperately wanted to believe that she did not hear what was said. There wasn’t even a hint of ambiguity about Diamond Tiara’s intentions: she was actually contemplating regicide. It would be decades until she could act on these thoughts but Silver Spoon reasoned that if anypony could pull it off, it was Diamond Tiara. “But every journey starts with a single step,” said Diamond Tiara. “Which is why I’ll need your help.” “M-My help? Why would you need my help? It sounds to me like you’ve got everything already figured out. My parents are wealthy but I’m just an ordinary filly.” “What a blank flank way to talk about yourself! You are no ordinary filly, Silver Spoon. Didn’t I just say how I hated mediocrity? I wouldn’t waste my time with ordinary foals. You are special. You’re the horseshoes beneath my hooves.” “Really?” “Yes, really. When I’m at the top, it’s going to get pretty lonely. I’ll need a smart personal assistant-slash-campaign manager-slash-public relations manager; somepony who’ll look out for my best interests when everypony else around me is only looking to win my favor. And it would help if that somepony was the only pony that I can always count on to be on my side and have my back. I know that you don’t have experience in that field but I have faith in your ability to catch on quickly. I just know that you’ll be perfect for the job. While I’m learning how to be a successful politician, you’ll learn all there is to know about how to get me on the ballot, how to keep me in office and how to keep me looking great. Now I know what you’re thinking: what’s in it for me? Well, I’ll see to it that you’ll be the highest paid mare in all of Equestria. You’ll have an experienced PR firm working for you around the clock. You’ll have so much money that it’ll make your inheritance look like chump change. You’ll have the finest clothes, homes all over the world and the most beautiful filly-fooler mares just dying for a chance to wake up next to you in the morning.” “Diamond, please.” “Sorry," said Diamond Tiara, covering her mouth. "It’s the salespony in me." She held Silver Spoon's hoof in her own. "Please say that you’ll be my right hoof mare, Silver Spoon. I could get to where I want to go without you but I wouldn’t last long without a true friend by my side.” “If you really need me that badly, how could I possibly refuse? Count me in, boss.” “Thank you. I promise that you won’t regret this. When we get out of this stupid police station, you and I are going to have the best slumber party ever at my house... and right before we go to sleep, how about I read you your very first bedtime story?” A much needed smile came to Silver Spoon’s face. She was elated to see that Diamond Tiara was not so far gone that she had forgotten that their bond still meant something. If nothing else, it meant that there was still hope that her friend could change. “I’d like that.” Silver Spoon was able to come to terms with this partnership by telling herself that she had time on her side. If she was as invaluable to Diamond Tiara as she had made her out to be, she would hold some influence over Diamond’s day-to-day decision making. She would use her power benevolently. The construction of a public park here, funding a medical research facility there – and before anypony could catch on, Diamond Tiara would become a name that was synonymous with progress. And if Diamond ever protested the use of these funds, she would point to some figures on paper and state that these projects were improving her image, thus ensuring her reelection. If all else failed, she would simply threaten to quit if the funding was cut. It was a simple solution and she was proud of herself for thinking of it. Somepony opened the door. It was the police officer who placed them there. “Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara?” asked the officer. “Right here,” said Silver Spoon. “Your parents are here to take you home,” said the officer. “You can pick up your personal effects at the front desk.” “Finally!” exclaimed Diamond Tiara. “I’m going to eat reheated quiche until I explode.” As she trotted toward the door, she turned her head to face the fillies staying behind. “It’s been real, girls. Vote for Diamond Tiara. That is, assuming that you still have the right to vote by the time you’re old enough to register.” “Hey, Silver Spoon,” said the white-coated filly with a smirk. Silver Spoon stopped walking and turned around, preparing herself for some silly remark about her name. Diamond Tiara did the same. “Look me up if you’re ever back in juvy minus your pink friend,” said the filly. “I’d love to have you as my bitch.” Diamond Tiara’s face scrunched as she stifled a snicker. Silver Spoon grinned awkwardly and blushed. She had never been hit on before by either a colt or a filly and even though the proposition was tarnished with vulgarity, she was surprised to find that she was flattered in a way. The fact that it was a filly hitting on her was icing on the cookie. “Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere,” said Diamond Tiara with a smirk. She grabbed Silver Spoon’s braid in her mouth and continued to walk out the door. Silver Spoon yelped and followed hastily with a pained smile.