//------------------------------// // The Alledged Holiday II // Story: The Truth of the Worlds // by OnTheWay //------------------------------// The Alleged Holiday II Twilight Sparkle Twilight Sparkle awoke to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling, pale beige white expanse of plasterboard that seemed almost luminescent in the sunlight that streamed in through the blinds. Windows lined one end of the room, and Twilight felt her breath get caught in her throat when she realized that the reddish orange glow of the sun upon the badlands had gone. Instead the light was paler, bluish even, similar to the shimmer of a sunbeam on the facets of Rarity'sapphires. And it was cold, oh so cold. Twilight huddled deeper into her blankets. Only thirst drew her out of her warm little cocoon. Twilight coughed softly as she emerged, having decided that her mouth was dry enough to warrant movement. It felt like it had been scrubbed out with sand. Out off the corner of her eye, she spotted a clear pitcher of water and a glass that had been set besides it and concentrated, drawing upon her magic and surrounding the pitcher in her telekinetic grip – or that would have been the case, had she been back in Equestria. The pitcher remained unmoved, ostentatiously mocking her failure. Oh right. No magic. Twilight grumbled as she wriggled across the bed like a caterpillar. And it was a big bed too, definitely not pony sized, and it took her quite a bit of wriggling to reach its edge where she teetered over like a stack of poorly organized books. “Eurgh,” she reached across the divide with all her might, stretching and stretching to obtain her prize. Further and further over the edge she went until the clink of glass against her hoof told her that she had it. But to her utmost surprise, the glass surface slipped away from her hoof. Puzzled, Twilight tried again, she gingerly extended her hoof and pressed it against the glass surface, but the pitcher was adamant; no adhesion occurred and the water remained where it was. She tried once again, this time more forcefully, but all she achieved was jostling the pitcher to very edge of the little table. “Oh, come on!” she cried, as she withdrew from her terrible challenge. “What must a mare do to get a drink around here?” “Oh come on!” some one else's voice echoed, and Twilight jumped. She had assumed that she had been alone in the the medical ward. It was a filly's voice, the high pitched shriek of someone younger, but nonetheless, a very grumpy one. “Can't you keep it down? I 'm sick! I've gotta' rest! Doesn't the high n' mighty Sparkle know how to take a drink of water without making a huge fuss about it?” “Well, excuse me then,” Twilight said, as she rolled her eyes.She looked across to the neighbouring bed and sure enough, there was a bundle of blankets, piled up upon it. It moved ever so slightly and abruptly, it sat up and turned to face her. Something was emerging from within. “Do I even know you?” Twilight asked. “Why, yes. Yes you do.” The voice replied haughtily. With a rustle of fabric, some of the blankets fell away and a small, magenta coloured face wormed its way out from within the sanctuary of warmth. She was an Earth Pony, it seemed, and a pretty little thing too, though the effect was marred somewhat by the spiteful, angry expression on her face. “You look familiar, but...” Twilight continued. The filly did look familiar, but she could not put a hoof on it. “Are you by any chance from Canterlot?” “Hah! I wish.” The filly laughed bitterly. “I would pay million bits to live in Canterlot – there's proper culture and fashion there. “ “Er, no.” “No? NO?” Twilight shrank back as the filly cried. “Are you implying that I'm not cultured enough for Canterlot???” The filly accused, glaring fiercely as any beast from the Everfree. “If I could, I would move right there, but-” “No, no no no no!” Twilight wheedled. “You've got me all wrong! Of course, with that attitude, you'd fit right in, in Canterlot. But... with a million bits, you're gonna' get an small apartment at best – land prices in Canterlot are at a premium, you know....” “-Daddy wants to stay in Ponyville!” The filly continued, giving no indication that she had heard Twilight speak at all. “Ponyville! What so nice about Ponyville anyway? Dumb hick town. They don't even have a proper chocolatier for heaven's sake!” “You're from Ponyville?” “What's the matter, Sparkle? Long term memory going away with age?” “Hey! I resent that! I give! Who are you anyway?” Twilight conceded with a groan. “It's me!You should know me!” The filly announced, smug as a cat in cream. “Who?” “Oh for heaven's sake.” The filly reached over to the end table, pulled open a drawer and retrieved an a small, elegant tiara, made of silver and studded with minute diamonds. With an imperious expression plastered upon her face, the filly placed the tiara upon her head and turned back. “There! You see now?” “Oh! Ohhh! You're Diamond Tiara?” Twilight 's jaw dropped, as she stared at the filly. The familiar features fell into place and the familial resemblance to her father. “What are you doing here?” “I don't answer to you, Sparkle,” Diamond Tiara replied with a flip of the mane. “But, if you really must know, Daddy and I are going to an exclusive spa-resort thing in the Alps.” “Ah, I see,” Twilight commented, as she thought back. Filthy Rich. The older stallion had been there, when she had collapsed at the crossing. She could recall the worry in his eyes – the palpable worry and anxiety of all her friends and the outcry of the crowd that came to gawk at her spell of fainting. But she had not seen hide or hair of his, urgh, daughter. “No, I meant, why are you here?” she repeated. “What? Are you dumb or something, Sparkle? I'm on a stupid holiday.” the little filly said sulkily. “Daddy. And. I. Are. Going. To. An. Exclusive. Spa. In. The. Alps.”she repeated, very slowly. “Does. The. Princess. Have. To. Talk. To. You. Like. This. Too?” “Now that is just rude.” “Thank you. I try.” Diamond Tiara replied, as she put her little tiara away. Twilight sighed and crushed the urge to cuff the younger mare over the head. The annoying little creature. “No, Diamond. I'm asking you, why are you here?” she waved a hoof, sweeping it about the infirmary. Diamond Tiara stopped, and went beet red, whatever retort she was going to shoot back remanding unsaid. “I'm sick,” she replied huffily. “Very sick. Super-duper sick.” “I... see...” Twilight said, not quite believing it. “But you were quite lively just now.” “It... it comes and goes!” Diamond cried, hasty to answer. “You should see me when it gets bad.” “How sad for you.” “I know right?” Diamond Tiara nodded in agreement. “And all the fault of that stupid, stupid barrier. And this stupid, dirty, Earth.” She threw up her hooves in irritation. “It's so cold and gusty and their sea smells funny and the natives are big and dumb, like Snips on a hot day and they keep trying to force stupid pills down my throat and...” for a spilt second the younger filly's eye darted towards a small black glass bottle atop the shelf at her bed. Dr Carriott's Universal Equine Medicine. Cures all ails. Twilight read. Equestria's singularly known non-magical elixir. Also known far and wide to young colts and fillies everywhere, as the black death. Many a young malinger had folded their hoof at the very sight of the dreaded black bottle, retrieved from the medicine cabinet like an ancient relic of war. “You're actually drinking that stuff?” Twilight asked, apprehensive as she recalled its peculiar taste. “Yeah, well,” Diamond Tiara snorted, contorting her face in disgust. “Everything else here is that stupid Human stuff, and I ain't touching any more of that sewage. At least Carriots's is drinkable...” “Human stuff?” Twilight pressed, a sneaking suspicion dawning upon her. “What's wrong with it? It must be real bad if you like U.E.M” “Everything's wrong with it! I'm not gonna' put anything called paracetamol anywhere near my mouth.” Diamond scoffed. “ What is paracetamol supposed to be anyway? Daddy and Dr Stables said that us ponies can take it jus' fine, but I'm not gonna' trust any medication that has words with five or more syllables in it. That many syllables is not natural.” “Diamond,” Twilight said, as she peeked out the window. In the distance, “We just passed through a gate of old magic – older than Ponyville itself and crossed it right into another world. If paracetamol is the most unnatural thing you've seen all day, then you must be a very worldly filly indeed.” “Hey! No sarcasm.” Diamond Tiara snapped. But she glared so hard that Twilight had stifle a giggle. “I do too see lots of weird stuff! For example, I saw Spike making goo goo eyes at Sweetie Belle's big sis last week.” Diamond admitted. “That was super weird too; he had flowers n' chocolates n' everything.” “Ah, I remember that!” Twilight breathed, and thought for a moment. “Yeah, that definitely was pretty awkward, for everyone one involved.” She conceded. Sorry, Spike. But it was. “But what were you doing at Rarity's place at midnight?” “I! Um!” Diamond Tiara went beet red. “It's none of your business, Sparkle,” she snapped. “Just checking on something for Daddy, that's all.” “Oh.” Twilight stifled a knowing smile “That's very nice of you. And so late too! Whatever it was, must have been important.” “Darn right it was,” Diamond snorted. “It is for Daddy's sake after all.” “Did you like what you see?” Twilight asked earnestly. “He's a nice kid.” “What? No! Ew!” Diamond cried. “He started singing at midnight and that creeped me out and then Sweetie Belle's sis came out with mud n' cucumbers on her face and tried to shoo him away and by then I'm really, really creeped out, and then half of Ponyville showed up – so I changed my mind about it and went back home.” “Ah. I can see why” Twilight exhaled. It appears Spike's more popular than he thinks, she thought, inwardly delighted. “And now you're creeping me out.” Diamond complained. “Don't you smile at me like that!” “Oh, sorry, Diamond.” Twilight said airily. “It's nothing.” “Yeah, yeah, go change the subject. Creep.” “Oh, yes, lets.” Twilight agreed and made a sudden grab for the bottle of Carriot's Elixir. She wasn't quite able to grip it with her hoof, but she did hook in in the bend of her fore leg and dragged it over, ignoring the cries of protest from the filly. “Aha! It isn't even open, the seal is intact. You're a malingerer, Diamond!” Twilight said, as she nudged the bottle across the table and back towards Diamond Tiara. “Am not!” Diamond retorted, leaping ahoof, ready for a confrontation. “You're awfully lively for a sick pony.” “AM NOT!” Diamond cried, leaping off her perch on the bed. She caught her self moments after, guilty faced. Twilight just stared. “Fine! I'm not really that sick,” she admitted finally, “but it's just that I don't wanna' got so some muddy country I've never even heard off and I don't wanna' go to some smelly spa run by some dumb, dirty Alpacas. I wanna' go to Canterlot, or to Manehattan! Somewhere civilized!” “Diamond, that's really selfish of you.” Twilight chided. “The hay I am! You're not my mother!” Diamond Tiara seethed. “I do think about Daddy all the time! Mum's not around any more so it is my job to take care of him. He should be in Canterlot where he belongs and not out here on some dirty island, surrounded by stupid two-leg barbarians and fashion victims!” The outburst was sudden and Twilight found herself suddenly feeling sorry for the filly. “But pretending to be sick won't solve anything.” she said, shaking her head. “Why don't you just tell your father?” “Because,” the filly hesitated, for a brief moment vulnerable. “Because...I dunno'. Daddy just won't stop talking about the Alps – and Germany, which sounds really unhygienic, and then he gets all misty eyed and nostalgic and lonely and its really really weird and...” her voice petered out and she just looked miserable. “Twilight,” the filly said, quiet for the first time in a while. “I think...” Twilight watched as Diamond's jaw worked soundlessly, trying to find the words to say. And then there was a sound of a door crashing open, of wood smashing against wood, followed by the sound of footsteps. Diamond Tiara fell silent at once, snapping her jaw shut. She looked angry with herself. “Whatever. It's none of your business anyway, Sparkle,” the filly mouthed. But Twilight barely heard that. Instead, she concentrated on the intruders. And their footsteps. One was the standard clip clop of four hooves striking against the timber floor, and the other, the steady gait of something walking on two feet. Human Twilight breathed, as she exchanged significant looks with Diamond. “Are we alone?” A rough, yet female voice spoke, seemingly carried in through a small ventilation duct in the wall to the next ward. Twilight looked up at it, then back to Diamond and back. They exchanged glances and clambered up onto the side table, both of them rearing up onto their hind legs to peek through. Diamond was a too short and made do with perching on Twilight's back herself. Contenting herself with an evil glare towards the offending filly, Twilight peered through the duct. Thankfully for her, it was nothing more than a shallow vent that connected the two wards, which gave her a fairly good view of the room and its occupants. “You shouldn't have said that, Professor; not in that crowd.” Another voice, this one ostentatiously male spoke, cutting through the calm of the ward like a peal of thunder. “You lot of ponies are amiable folks, but you were really pushing your luck back there.” Twilight craned her neck forward, trying to see, but the speaker remained unseen – save for a pair of legs, clad in some blue fabric that Twilight had not seen before. “Human.” she whispered. “Don't ignore my question,” the female voice snapped. “Are we alone?” There, a middle aged Earth Pony stood. Her mane was straw coloured, like wheat in the sun, but the rest of her was so strikingly ordinary and plain looking that Twilight felt an odd sense of recognition. The bruising around one eye only exaggerated that plainness into ugliness. She was clothed, a body obscuring lab coat which covered her body, flanks and legs in thick white fabric, swishing as she paced the room. “Yes, professor.” the male sighed. “The ward is empty as you can plainly see... now, where was I? Oh yes. Why did you provoke them, Professor? The whole point of coming back here was to gather support – to show the Order of the Golden Horn that we mean them no harm. You may not see it this way, but their opinion does affect us. All you did was get a black eye for nothing.” The mare paced angrily. “Did Star Swirl and his apprentice care what the Idiot King thought of them?” She said, as her hooves beat a drumbeat into the floorboards. “No they did not! Now Star Swirl and Clover are remembered throughout the ages while the dullest historians struggle to remember who Princess Platinum's simpleton of a father was.” “Professor...” “The so called Order? They're sheep, to be herded about at the pleasure of their betters. The Order of the Golden Horn is nothing more than a kindergarten of foals, and their self proclaimed Grandmasters in Canterlot are not much better. Keepers of the Secrets of the Old Kingdom, are they? Hah! They last magician they sponsored cheeked the princess and ran away to hide in a mirror. Some secret.” “Come on now, Professor,” the male said, his tone soothing. Twilight breathed, looking on as a hand was placed upon the mare's shoulders. “It's partly your fault anyhow – don't look at me like that, it's true. When Professor Wang gave the green light for you to fly into Hippocampus, he specifically mentioned that you were not to provoke your detractors. And if you hadn't been so stubborn, we could have appealed to the Princesses for protection and then we could have gone straight to Canterlot to get what you need. Instead, here we are squatting on their doorstep like beggars.” “Enough!” The mare cried, her voice raspy. She turned to glare at the unseen human.“I've repeated myself far too many times. I will return to Canterlot victorious, or not at all.” “Victorious or not at all?” The male said, as he barked a short laugh. “You and your pride. You speak as if you wish to make war on Canterlot. Professor, you've been with us for a decade, but do you know what the Bellerophon Institute stands for?” “Yes. You wish to exploit Equestria for your own ends.” The mare said. “I acknowledge that, and I have decided that I could care less about them. Exploit away! Capitalism, Ho!” “Professor,” the male sighed. “Now you're just being bitter again. The Institute is here to promote cooperation between Humanity and Equestria. There is so much we can learn from one another.” “Really? It's hard tell sometimes.” The mare said, without a hint of humour. “It doesn't matter. I just want to finish this. If only to see the look on Celestia's face. To see the looks on all their faces when I achieve the impossible. When we achieve the impossible, and topple the comfortable little world they've surrounded themselves with.” “Come on, there's no need for that.” The man said. Sometimes, I think you forget that your exile is self-imposed, and that not everyone is your enemy. You have supporters in Earth and in Equestria both, all hoping to see our research come to fruition. “And a million ponies who want to see me fail, and fade into history, a laughingstock. There she goes! The deluded mare who thought she could-” “Professor,” the male interrupted, his tone a deadly calm. “That won't happen. You know it. I know it. The prototypes work. There's no need for such negativity.” “Yeah, yeah,” the mare grumbled, agitatedly. “Now, get out. I need some privacy.” “How bad is it?” The male voice asked. Concern evident in his tone. “ Is it...” “It's bad. Equestria doesn't agree with me.” The mare winced. “I'm outside its borders, but the magic seeps out still – the Lenz field is still detectable as far as Shanghai.” “What's a lenz field?” Diamond Tiara whispered, as she shifted around on Twilight's back. “I dunno', I don't think I've heard of it before.” Twilight replied softly. “Now shush, I don't want a confrontation with them.” “Do you, need some help?” the man asked. “No. Now sod off.” “Are you sure, Professor?” “For the thousandth time, yes. Do I have to throw you out myself?” The was a brief silence and then the man spoke once more. “You should go back and ask that Princess of yours to help you. If she's as benevolent as they say she is...” “No.” The mare replied, bitterly. “I will not go crawling back to kiss her hooves and beg for her pardon. I chose my own destiny and I will live with the consequences of my actions. I will not be pitied.” “Professor, you're like family to me – to us. We don't want to see you like this. Go to the Princess; if anything else, it'll let you concentrate on you work.” The mare stopped and stared away, out the window. “When I was younger, I had the opportunity to meet the Princess face to face. I asked her a question, demanded the truth.” “And?” The mare laughed, resentful. “She never answered me, so I came up with my own answers.” There was a pregnant pause, and for a moment, all Twilight could hear was her own breathing. “I choose my own destiny. I live by the consequences of my choices.” “I see,” the male said, his tone flat. “ Well then, Professor, if you don't need anything else, then I'll be heading off. The flight's at ten sharp tonight, and I'm sure I can find a bar somewhere that serves something stronger than cider. Maybe I'll stop by the new museum in down town Hippocampus – there's an exhibit on Alexander the Great going on, limited time. Might be worth a look. ” “Yeah, yeah. Go on. Sod off then.” “Goodbye Professor.” There was a click of the door and the mare was left alone. She looked about furtively and unclothed herself, her hooves working quickly and precisely as buttons were undone, and the coat fell to the ground with a dry rustle. Twilight stared. The mare's cream coated body was somewhat pudgy though still robust enough for an Earth Pony. Though there appeared to be burns of some sort that streaked her sides. There, the hair grew sparsely around reddened flesh; as if someone had dashed caustic chemicals upon her flanks. And as she turned to deposit a pair of thick spectacles down upon a side table, Twilight caught a glimpse of her cutie mark. Or what was left of it. Twilight's eyes widened and she felt a shiver run down her spine as she huddled against the duct. She felt Diamond Tiara's hooves dig into her back as she filly stiffened, and the warm exhalation of breath on her neck as the filly let out a small gasp. Upon the unsuspecting pony's flank was an angry mass of scar tissue and random tones and colours, right where her cute mark should have been. The patch was livid, and seemed to shift and twist even as the pony trotted around the room, applying salves and ointments to her various afflictions. All of them were horrible to see, but none were as bad as the mark-scar. Twilight likened it to a painting that had been doused in thinner and smeared maliciously across the canvas. “Ewwwwww! Ew! Ew!” Diamond Tiara whispered, her hooves stuffed into her mouth in horror. “What is that?” “I dunno' Diamond.” Twilight shivered. “I can't tell you anything.” But she knew, deep within that it was something unnatural. And then, came the clip-clop of hooves down the hall. “HELLO TWILIGHT! ALL FEELING BETTER??” Before Twilight could brace herself, the door crashed open and Pinkie Pie hurled herself in, with the other four of her friends trailing closely behind. They met with the mare and suddenly everything simply stopped. The mare froze, her eyes wide. She dropped the tube of ointment she had held in her jaw as it hung open. Her pupils flickered from the intruders and toward the mark-scar, and the single mirror on the wall and there she stood, trembling. “Oh my, sorry! Rarity exclaimed. “We did not mean to intrude-” “OUT!” The mare screamed, her eyes as livid as her scars, brimming with hatred and shame. “GET OUT!” She paced about, staring at each of the ponies in turn, looking this way and that, as if a wild animal cornered, her face contorted into a rictus of a snarl, ignorant of all else. The side table was knocked over, sending bottles of ointment to the ground. Her spectacles clattered to the ground, forgotten. But all Twilight's friends could do was stand there, frozen, shocked and unmoving even as a brief flicker of horrified recognition appeared upon the mare's bruised face. “YOU!” She cried, right up in Fluttershy's face. “YOU!” She pointed a hoof at Rarity. “YOU! YOU! YOU!” She wheeled wildly, her jaw agape like a rabid thing. “SO, IS THIS YOUR ANSWER, CELESTIA?” With a hellish cry, the mare retrieved her coat in her teeth, and charged out the door, crushing her own spectacles in her wake. And then, Twilights friends were left alone. “Oops?” Pinkie said, trembling, her eyes wide and her hair standing on end. “Wrong room?” The others deigned to reply. Twilight didn't know the reason, but she simply could not bear to call to her friends. She just felt cold.