//------------------------------// // Arrival // Story: Sabbatical // by mbulsht //------------------------------// Sabbatical Chapter 03 “Arrival” “SHE WHAT?” Twilight nearly screamed. It had been a long time since she had been this ruffled, but for once there was a truly legitimate reason behind it. The Mayor of Ponyville sighed. With one hoof she slid her glasses from their perch to hang around her neck, and with the other she rubbed her temples. “Please, miss Sparkle,” she pleaded. “There is no need to raise your voice in my office.” The two of them were standing in Mayor Mare’s office in the humble City Hall of Ponyville. Well, Twilight was standing. The Mayor, having just returned from the morning follow-up meeting with the Princesses, was sitting dejectedly in her seat behind her desk, thoroughly bemused by the fact that she and Twilight were having the conversation in which they were engaged. Twilight, rather than puzzled, was looking agitated. Manic, almost. “I’m sorry, Mayor Mare It’s just... and there simply has to be a apple-sized wax formation in my ear,” Twilight declared, dramatically massaging an ear with her hoof, “but I could have sworn that you just told me that Princess Luna changed the location of this year’s Spring Festival to Ponyville.” Mayor Mare sighed. “That is exactly what I just said.” “Ah....wh...bu-” Twilight’s face contorted as she tried to say something, but all that came out were a series of sounds that were nonsensical at best. “I see you’re distressed. Imagine how I felt this morning. Me, the damned Mayor, being told this out of nowhere, less than a week in advance of the Festival.” Twilight seemed to find her voice all of a sudden, and chose to raise it. “But last year it was decided that Cloudsdale would host the Festival this year!” “Your voice, miss Sparkle.” Twilight sighed and connected hoof with forehead. “Right, sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed here. The timing is just terrible. I mean, you’ve got a calendar here, right? The Festival begins this year on the Ninth of the Second. Today is Sunday the Fifth, and that’s this Friday! And you were notified of this change only just this morning?” “Yes, giving us less than a week to prepare for something most cities have a year’s time to prepare for. And by us, I mean you and me. Since you were in charge of organizing the minor festivities Ponyville was going to have on Hearts and Hooves Day, I’m afraid it now falls to you to aid in organizing the Spring Festival.” The Mayor glanced over at her calendar. “I’m more than a little incensed that they did not decide to tell us this at the last monthly meeting. And the fact that Celestia probably had no hoof in deciding this irks me to no end.” Twilight was pacing now, her mind working to formulate plans for the Festival. “Yes, and I’m going to need every resource available if this is to be pulled off well. There will be lists, of course. Lists will have to be made. I’ll have Spike begin drawing up some-- wait.” Twilight stopped, and slowly swung her head to look directly at the Mayor over her desk. “What was that about Celestia?” The Mayor let her chin rest on her desk as she looked tiredly up at Twilight. “I’m quite certain Luna made this decision all on her own. Celestia was not at the meeting this morning. She was there last night for the monthly planning meeting, but didn’t come to the follow-up. It’s likely many of the decisions announced this morning were Luna’s entirely.” “And why exactly did Princess Celestia decide to skip one of the most important meetings of the month?” Twilight was on edge. It was almost as though the universe had lost all sense of organization and logic. Celestia skipping out on a royal duty? Unthinkable. “Ohohoho...” The Mayor laughed mirthlessly. “That’s the best part, actually. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. She went on sabbatical last night. For a whole month. I’ll be surprised if she even had any say in-” “SHE WHAT?” Twilight shouted once more, causing Mayor Mare to jump out of her seat. “Twilight Sparkle, I swear to everything that is holy.” The Mayor spoke through gritted teeth. “If you raise your voice to my face in this office one more time, I will replace every single almanac and encyclopedia in your library with the 500 book-long Muddy Adventures of Buttons the Pig and mandate that you do a weekly Saturday children’s book reading until you’ve finished the entire series one chapter at a time.” Again, Twilight apologized with a sigh. “I’m sorry. This is all too much here. There is so much to do and so little time left to do it in.” “Which is why,” the Mayor responded, pulling a series of papers from a drawer in her desk, “you will have the full support of the Mayoral office, as well as a good amount of extra funding. Feel free to use the City’s money to hire more help. I’ll draw out a pass with my signature for you. It should get you some support from local businesses too.” “Well that’s reassuring.” It was indeed reassuring, though Twilight still spoke the words with a heavy coating of sarcasm. The Mayor gave her an extremely annoyed look. “There really is no need to take that tone with me. It’s not like I don’t have my own work cut out for me as well. You won’t be doing this all by yourself. And I hope,” she added, looking at Twilight over the rims of her glasses, “that you can get your friends to help us. I’m sure we can put on the best festival possible if you, your friends, and I do our level best.” “Right.” Twilight closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let it out, and then turned to leave the Mayor’s office. “I have a lot of work cut out for me right now. And that means I need to get going. I’ll have a plan drawn up by tomorrow. Oh, and Mayor?” she added, “Thanks for notifying me the moment you got in from Canterlot.” “You were the first pony I called.” “Well, make sure I’m not the last; we’re going to need all the help we can get.” “Oh, and one more thing,” the Mayor held up a hoof, remembering something. “Luna told me to make it a ‘Festival worthy of a Princess.’” “Great. More pressure.” Sarcasm abounded as Twilight rolled her eyes. “Let’s just heap it on, Ponyville can take it!” With that, Twilight opened the door and raised quill and parchment to her face in one deft motion, exiting the office and beginning a checklist at the same time. “Post office first, I think,” she muttered to herself, as her she made her way out of City Hall. =-=-= The mayor of Cloudsdale was not happy. To be fair, the mayor of Cloudsdale was rarely happy. It was one of the hazards of her job. Cloudsdale was a difficult city to maintain, with its roaring weather factories and bustling residential districts perched precariously on a foundation comprised entirely of evaporated water. When you build a city out of clouds and on top of clouds, it doesn’t matter how magical your hooves are. Your house is still liable to disappear from existence at the slightest misstep. But today, she was decidedly unhappy for a completely different reason. The reason in question was Princess Luna. The meeting the night before had been a complete circus. Celestia had clearly been paying more attention to the clock than to any of the petitions being forwarded, and on top of that, it seemed that Luna had made all the decisions on the petitions by herself anyway. And Celestia forgetting an important mandate that she herself had written? Far be it from a lowly Mayor to question the way a demigoddess might think or act, but Celestia had been undoubtedly un-princesslike at their monthly meeting. The Mayor of Cloudsdale sighed as she stood, forelegs on the fluffy cloud railing of her bedroom balcony. She knew she looked a mess. Her normally well kept blue and white manebun was coming undone, she could feel it. And she was quite certain the brown patch on the side of her white coat was from the Appleoosan representative who had sat next to her the previous night. Filthy stallion probably hadn’t bathed in days. She sighed, taking in the late morning air and looking out at the vast busy city below. “Sleet?” A voice from inside called her name. “I’m outside, Snow.” She didn’t bother to turn around as she heard the faint puff sound of her husband’s hooves on their cumulus carpet. “I didn’t see you when I got in,” she said. “I was out at the market, getting you some breakfast. I know the swanky food they lay out at Canterlot Castle never really sits right with you. Figured you’d be hungry.” Sleet smiled. “A lifesaver as always, Snowstreak.” She felt her husband’s forelegs wrap around her stomach in a warm embrace as kissed her neck. “Not in the mood, Snow.” she sighed again “Not in the mood for what?” her husband said softly, pulling his head back. “Sitting back in bed, eating breakfast, and telling me all about the decisions the Princesses made this morning that has you ruffled and sighing while you look off into the distance? I have muffins, by the way. And bagels. With your favorite jam.” “What on earth,” Sleet muttered, “did I ever do to deserve you?” “Well for one, you hold a lucrative public office job in a profitable industrial city that manages weather for an entire country.” Sleet laughed and turned around to walk back in. “In any case, I’m glad you’re as thoughtful as you are. I’m starving.” Snow led her back into the bedroom whereupon he grabbed her, hovered into the air, and plopped her gently down on their bed. “Now you stay there,” he said, “while I go and get your breakfast.” As he left, Sleet giggled, a sound thoroughly inappropriate for a mare of her age and maturity, and wriggled her way into a more comfortable position on the bed. Snow always managed to make her feel better, no matter how bad her mood was. Like a college filly. Almost. When Snow returned with her breakfast, gallantly perching it on a tray on his back, he pulled up a small mass of cloud to sit next to the bed. “Now,” he said, pushing the tray up next to her, “Tell me all about todays business.” “Well, first of all,” Sleet said, taking a bite from a bagel, “The Fpring Festifal if not going to be in Cloudfdale thiff year.” She swallowed. “After all that damn planning we’ve been doing for the past 6 months, they switch it to Ponyville, of all places.” “Really.” Snow raised an eyebrow. “They’ve only got what, five days now to pull it off?” “Oh, that’s not the issue.” Sleet waved a hoof dismissively, taking another bite and finishing it before talking. “They’ll pull it off. They’ve got that crazy smart unicorn living there, you know the Princess’s hoof-picked student. The issue is now that stupid Mayor Mare has yet another thing to lord over me for the next year. Stupid Mayor,” she fumed, “Her name is ‘Mare’ I mean can you get any more... just...ugh.” “Heh.” “I mean really, where is the reasoning behind switching it all of a sudden? We’re one of the most organized cities in the country, we’ve been planning for ages, and all of a sudden they just give it to a bunch of small-town country bumpkins?” “I’m sure there’s a reason behind it.” “I don’t think there’s a reason behind any of the decisions this month. You know, they pulled our funding petition? How do they expect us to produce their weather efficiently and at a consistent degree of excellence? And all this, on top of the fact that Celestia is going to be gone for the next month because of a stupid law that she wrote once upon a time.” “Well this,” said Snow, patting his wife reassuredly, “is indeed a mess. But,” he added, “it’s not a mess we have to worry about. Cloudsdale’s run on this budget for almost a year, it can run on this budget for another month. Plus, we’ve got all this time, money, and labor force freed up from having to set up for the Festival. It was going to be hell on earth for us anyway, having to set up ground-level festivities.” “A bright side to this at last, I guess.” “And,” he continued, “There’s always next year. The Princesses will have to give the next Festival to us after this little blunder. This way, you can see how Mayor Mare does her country bumpkin Festival, and then plan a Festival to one-up hers.” “Ohhh...” Sleet scrunched up her face. “Oh youuu... careful now, your optimism and gentle charm might actually rub off on me.” “Your job is to make tough decisions. Mine is to make you smile and feed you breakfast.” Sleet laughed, and then swatted him playfully. =-=-= Sweet Apple Acres was, more often than not, a calm and serene place to behold. As one could probably guess from their name alone, the Apple family had little stock in raising anything other than the fruit-bearing trees of their namesake. So beyond a few much-loved family pets, the only things living out in the acres of field were a silent and wooden species. Applejack preferred it this way, where on a pleasant day the loudest sound aside from the leaves rustling in the wind was the steady and persistent thock thock of her hooves coaxing those delicious ruby wonders from their perches. It was certainly better than their distant relatives, the Pigslaughters, whose ranches could be heard for miles around, and whose neighbors prayed every day for a thunderstorm to drown out the awful gut-wrenching noise.‘Tain’t natural, what they do, Applejack’s granny would sometimes remark. That noise, ‘tain’t natural. Whenever they were brought up in conversation, Applejack was always perfectly happy to gently remind everypony that the Pigslaughters were in-laws; relatives in a legal sense only. And under her breath she would often curse the cousin of hers whose shady-at-best shotgun wedding had bound their families together. Honestly though, Applejack would silently ponder, what kind of family lives entirely off of exports to the Griffin Kingdom, hoovers up ridiculous amounts of land, and doesn’t provide a single service to their community or country? Who takes on a disgusting job for the sole reason that it’s lucrative to export delicacies to a foreign nation? With no care in the world for their neighbors or the land that they misuse? Filthy capitalists, that’s who, she would always conclude. But if there was one good thing, one miniscule sliver of a silver lining to the storm cloud that was the harsh reality of being legally related to such filthy capitalists, it was that they put context to Applejack’s relatively simple life. In a sense, they made Applejack appreciate the small things in her career. Like the fact, of course, that the loudest sound in her beautiful farm was her hooves on wood, and was accompanied only by Winona’s joyful barks and the music of the leaves in the wind. So naturally, when Applejack’s ears picked up the distinct pop of air being displaced, followed by the tinkling of dissipating spent magic, she turned a curious head to see what manner of pony had materialized. And sure as sure can be, a young amber colored mare stood out in the dirt road that ran parallel to Sweet Apple Acres. Squinting her eyes against the light of the high sun, Applejack observed this newcomer. She was quite sure that she had never seen this mare before, though something about her was very similar to somepony Applejack knew. From her vantage point atop a small hill, out of the mare’s line of sight, she watched as the golden-orange coated pony walked closer, looking about and drinking in the ambient surroundings with both curiosity and appreciation. This was clearly a pony who didn’t get out much, Applejack figured. Applejack prided herself in being able to know a pony before knowing them. Perhaps it was her affinity towards the natural magical force of Honesty that allowed her to see past the masks other ponies put up, but Applejack had always been a fair judge of character. Rarely did she misjudge ponies, and more often than not she was spot on, something that managed to actually impress her more intelligent and learned friends. She’d only once been horribly wrong, and the consequence of course had been a rushed wedding, questionable pregnancy, and the lifelong shame of being distantly, very distantly and don’t you forget it, related to a family of murderers. As the mare drew nearer, Applejack was able to see a small pair of reading glasses perched upon the mare’s muzzle. This, coupled with the her simple and neat manestyle made Applejack think of books, and books made her think of Twilight. That, and the horn. The mare was a unicorn. So here, Applejack concluded, was a young mare on spring vacation from a university. Or perhaps a freelance writer. A smart little thing who probably never got out of her home much, let alone was able to view large tracts of Apple Family land very often. A city filly, if you will. An urban-dwelling introvert who was probably taking a trip to the country to get away from work or school. Much like the Spring Break trip that Applejack’s putrid floozy of a cousin had taken before she came back with a baby and family-shaming baggage. “Filthy capitalists,” Applejack growled, almost involuntarily. A knee-jerk response to her memories. The wind must have carried the sound, or she must have spat the words loudly enough, because the amber mare’s ears flicked and she whipped her head up to look at the source of the sound. Presumably because it was a quiet day, and sudden sounds draw attention, or perhaps because it isn’t often that a unicorn materializes in a serene country setting and has their thoughts broken by the words, “filthy capitalists.” Applejack smiled widely, deciding to pretend as though she had never spoken and trotted down the hill towards the fence that ran twixt farm and dirt road. “Howdy!” she called. She stopped at the fence, propping herself up on her hind legs with her forelegs lazily draped over the top. She adjusted her hat with a jaunty smile. “Ain’t seen you ‘round here before.” The young mare smiled, her head tilted and her eyes half-lidded. She was quite pretty, Applejack decided. Not beautiful, like Rarity, or hot, like Rainbow Dash. But she had a quiet and subdued charm. And when she spoke, she had a light and unobtrusive voice. “Hi.” She stepped over to where Applejack was standing and stopped across the fence from her. “In town for a vacation?” asked Applejack. She nodded. “Got some time off, so I decided to pay Ponyville a visit. It’s been a while since I was here last.” Nailed it, thought Applejack. Aloud, she said, “Well in that case let me welcome you back to Ponyville! It’s the greatest thing, havin’ this farm here right on the main road leadin’ in. I get to greet everypony who comes and goes. Where you visitin’ from, miss...?” “Amber,” she said. “Amber Skye.” Applejack kept her smile wide, but her left ear twitched at the name and in the back of her head she swore she could recall the name being associated with a porn star. “I’m visiting from Canterlot,” continued Amber. “Taking a break from my er... writing job.” Double nailed that one, thought Applejack. Still got it. “Well ain’t that right nice. I hope you have a nice stay, now. I won’t keep you no longer.” “Thanks.” Amber turned to leave. “Actually,” she added, as though remembering something, “Could you tell me where I could get a place to stay here? I heard Ponyville was going to have some minor festivities on Hearts and Hooves Day and I’d like to be around to see that.” “Well, if it’s rooms you’re looking for, you can look ‘round the inn, they usually got a good number of empty rooms. That ‘uns down this road, past the town square and a huge tree that’s our library. If money’s no object, then you can try the local Spa, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” “What do you mean, ‘if money is no object?’” “I mean they got a few real expensive places to stay there. Turnin’ it into some sorta country spa resort, their owners are.” Applejack waved a hoof dismissively. “I don’t know much about it though. I’m not really the spa type, as you can probably tell.” “Actually,” said Amber, “That’s probably perfect. Thank you so much! I should probably get going though.” She waved and turned to leave once more. As she watched Amber walk slowly up the dirt path leading into town, Applejack bent down and bit off a long grass stalk, chewing the end and letting it hang lazily out the side of her mouth. This newcomer certainly was nice, she decided. She couldn’t shake the odd feeling she’d gotten from hearing her name, though. As she was considering this, she felt a large warm body sidle up next to hers. “Hiya, Mac.” She didn’t need to turn to look, she knew immediately who it was. “Newcomer?” Big Macintosh, her brother, was a stallion who liked to talk efficiently. Even if it meant mangling grammar just to be able to say fewer words. “Yup. She’s quite nice, too.” “Uh-huh.” “Weird name, though.” Applejack squinted. “Well not really weird, just gives me a weird feelin.’” “Oh.” “You ever hear the name ‘Amber Skye?’” She turned to look at her brother, whose stony expression gave away almost no emotion. “Yup.” “It’s a porn star’s name, ain’t it?” “Yup.” Big Macintosh blinked. “I mean....uh, what?” “Thought so.” Applejack laughed and jabbed her brother playfully in the side to punctuate her words. “Ow.” =-=-= If there was one thing that Angel was good at, it was being an insufferable cunt. Fluttershy would often find herself thinking this about Angel, and would usually reprimand herself with a mental wrist slap, chiding her subconscious for bringing up thoughts that were Not Very Nice. When you really think about it though, it is quite funny. You’d expect somebody with a name like “Angel” to be a soft, cuddly, and kind being. And Angel was indeed soft, and cuddly. In fact he was the very embodiment of soft and cuddly. A small curious white rabbit whose fur was as down and always well kept, something Fluttershy prided herself on when it came to her care of her animal friends. But a kind rabbit Angel was not. He was indeed, as Fluttershy so often thought and then chided herself for thinking, an insufferable cunt. And today seemed to be no exception. It was not often that anypony ever got to see Fluttershy’s patience and carefully-composed facade break down. And were one to really think about it; it was likely Angel who got to see it most, as often he was the cause of it. Oddly enough, he was often also the cure for it. Fluttershy loved him dearly, and a quick nuzzle and a light chitter would always bring a smile to her face. But an impish asshole he could be nonetheless. And with these thoughts, Fluttershy ambled slowly down the path leading away from her house, handing out mental wrist-slaps to herself every five seconds. She wasn’t sure where she was going; there was no real destination in her mind. But the walking at least meant she was out of her house and briefly away from the stress of having Angel around. She exhaled sharply. Her baby had been quite particular about his meal tonight, despite her constant reminders that he should eat healthy. But Angel had been adamant to the point of harassment, and in the end she relented and gave him what he wanted. As she trudged the soft tamped dirt path she made a resolve to improve his diet the next day. In the back of her mind she knew she would probably relent again and again, but the resolution made her feel better. How pathetic, a new thought came to rise in her mind. What a pitiable manner. There was no resolve; there was only empty promises. Empty promises to the self and to the animals under her care. The thought made her throat tighten and she coughed to hold back an unexpected dry sob. It was no way to raise her animal friends, the unwanted thoughts continued. If she couldn’t do what was best for them because she was too weak to sometimes say no to them, then what business did she have parading her cutie mark around? Fluttershy stopped her walk to take a deep breath. Brooding on the subject was not going to get anything done. For now, she had her resolution, and come hell or high water she was going to act on that resolution the next day, even if it failed. That, at least, was surely a step forward. It was times like these, times that occurred often, which she thought about Twilight Sparkle. If there were a friend among her little group that Fluttershy respected most, it was Twilight. Twilight, with her vast knowledge and seemingly endless supply of solutions, advice, and always-ready-to-listen ears. For whom “citation needed” was more than just a motto, it was a way of life. Perhaps it would be a good idea to talk to her, Fluttershy decided. Talking to Twilight always made her feel better. To be fair, talking to any of her friends made her feel better, but with Twilight it was different. Twilight was a listener first, Fluttershy liked to think. Even her oldest friend, Rainbow Dash, had a hard time really understanding Fluttershy’s problems. It wasn’t that Dash didn’t care, she just had a very different attitude towards life. An attitude that didn’t really allow for the understanding of more timid and careful ponies. Invariably Dash would always say something like “buck up” or “you just gotta work at it,” which were all very nice, if ultimately unhelpful. She never held it against Dash, of course. Dash was simply in a different world. Rarity and Applejack too weren’t always the best, one who cared not for what other ponies thought of her, and the other who obsessed about her public perception to the point of it being disturbing. Pinkie Pie could rarely help either. Though no matter how hard Fluttershy stretched her imagination, she couldn’t think of a single pony who could ever really take any intricate life advice from Pinkie Pie. Or give it, either. Dash may have lived in a different world, but Pinkie lived in a different world. No, good ol’ empirical Twilight was the best for times like these. Even if she didn’t understand or couldn’t provide real advice she would, at the very least, listen to all the points of data from as many angles as her mind could handle before drawing a conclusion. That was the scientific process, after all. That was the method of deduction. It had been a while since Fluttershy had really gotten to spend any kind of time with Twilight despite how much she enjoyed her company, and this seemed like as good an excuse as any. For that thought, Fluttershy once again chided herself. It wasn’t an excuse, she shouldn’t call it that. Calling it an “excuse” would imply that Fluttershy would grasp at any reason to visit Twilight. And that simply wasn’t true. Why would she do that? As she made a turn at a fork in the path that led towards the library where Twilight worked and lived, she smiled a content smile and nodded to herself. This wasn’t an excuse. It was a legitimate reason. She was going to visit her friend for some advice, and nothing more. There was no reason other than that Twilight was the most logical choice to hear out her angst. Absolutely no other deeper reason at all. Of course, deep down Fluttershy knew that this was a lie. But she chose to ignore those thoughts. Because that would mean admitting that she could lie so easily to herself. And what kind of pony would Fluttershy be if that were the case? Goddess forbid that the embodiment of Kindess lie to itself. =-=-= The owners of the local Ponyville Spa, those beautiful twins, had been very kind. Amber, that is to say, Celestia, had appreciated their services immensely. She had never actually been inside the spa despite having wanted to visit it for a while. A proper spa resort it was becoming, that was for sure. When the twin owners had offered to let her tour the suite facilities, Celestia had almost immediately paid for it. The rooms were luxurious, almost to the level of her own private royal bedroom. The rest of the facilities, however, went far beyond what Celestia enjoyed in the comforts of her castle. Magnificent outdoor baths, relaxing saunas, and a brunch menu that would put her royal cooks to shame. Naturally, if one paid for the highest available package, their rooms would come with smaller, more intimate versions of everything the spa had to offer, to the point where Celestia saw one of the rooms had a stone bathtub that was larger than her custom-built alicorn-sized bed. The spa sisters had been kind enough to even offer to throw in an extra day pass to the entire resort, in case Celestia wanted to, as they put it, “bring a special friend in for Hearts and Hooves.” The blue one had also added that they had stress tested the beds for something, but before she could say what her sister had ribbed her harshly with a hoof and all that came out was the syllable “fuc-” So of course it was understandable that the Ponyville Spa’s Gold Package, which included all these wondrous bells and whistles, had a price that came with a significant number of zeros attached. Celestia hemmed and hawed about the deal, but eventually gave in and pulled out her checkbook. Regulations be damned, she had thought. It was her sabbatical and she was going to spend it how she liked, and if that meant abusing the checkbook that funneled straight from the national treasury, then the royal accountants could get bent. She was going to pamper herself in ways she had only dreamed about. The best part, she figured in retrospect, was that nopony would complain until after she got back. Nopony save Luna knew who she was disguising herself as, and since Amber had been a government employee, Celestia never really had to actually lie about where she’d gotten the checkbook. In fact, Celestia could probably say all kinds of things about the inner workings of the government and it wouldn’t be lying. Amber had been privy to inordinate amounts of eyes-only information. After all, there’s no better place for gossip than the pillow talk corner. That last thought made Celestia blush, and she shook her head as she made her way into the town square. She had her place to stay for as long as she cared to write large checks that would likely anger her treasurer, so what to do now? The library came to mind almost immediately. Celestia stopped to consider this. She certainly wanted to visit Twilight. But she would be coming as a pony Twilight had never met. Introductions would have to be made, idle conversation. Was she ready for that? She thought about this for a moment. Amber had been close enough to Celestia to know about her special students. There was excuse enough for Celestia to pretend as Amber that she already knew all about Twilight. But would the disguise be foolproof enough? It seemed to have worked on Twilight’s farmer friend. And if the element of Honesty could not see through her magical mask, then surely that was enough? Celestia cleared her throat. So that’s what it was going to be. She was just a visitor. A young writer working for the Princess who was looking for something to read in her idle time, and using that as an excuse to visit the student her employer constantly talked about. That seemed good enough. The library was just north of the town square, and when Celestia got to it, the sun was beginning its descent. Immediately she noticed that somepony was milling around outside the library, and she recognized the pony as Fluttershy. Fluttershy was peeking in one of the side windows. Celestia thought this was odd, and stopped a fair distance to observe. After a few moments, Fluttershy came away from the window and went up to the door, took a deep breath, and raised a hoof to open the door. Then she stopped, thought for a moment, put her hoof down, and then paced for a few seconds in front of the door. “What on earth is she doing?” Celestia murmured to herself. She was out of earshot, and Fluttershy wasn’t looking in her direction, so she stood still to watch the scene. Fluttershy repeated this process of walking up to the door and raising a hoof, only to drop it and pace. She repeated it again and again. Seemingly unable to decide whether or not to go in, she finally gave up after five minutes and sighed, then turned to walk away, presumably back to her house. Unsure of what she had just witnessed, Celestia waited until Fluttershy was gone before walking up to the library. She made a mental note to investigate further. But more important things were currently in front of her. She was going to walk in, browse, and introduce herself. She was going to gush about Twilight, pretending she had heard all about her amazing life as a student to the princess. She was going to have a lovely conversation and mention that she was in town on vacation. She was going to select a book or two, and use those as an excuse to come back. Maybe she would raise a topic about some scholarly endeavour that Twilight would be interested in. And maybe, just maybe, she might be able to do what many teachers wish they could do, but cannot for professional reasons. Maybe she could become friends with Twilight, if only for a while. Now wouldn’t that be nice.