//------------------------------// // 1 // Story: Monochrome // by A Man Called Horse //------------------------------// As soon as Rainbow Dash opened her groggy eyes, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. This was mostly due to an errant beam of bright morning sunlight that found its way across millions of miles of space, through her bedroom window, and directly into her eyes, triggering several small explosions in her brain. Hissing through her teeth, she slammed her eyelids shut again and rolled away from the offending light, wriggling deeper into her Wonderbolts sheets and doing her best to slip back into unconsciousness. The damage was done, however. She was awake. Terribly, excruciatingly awake. Through the aching, syrupy mess of her mind, she tried to reconstruct the events of the previous evening. She remembered going to that new bar on Maple Lane with one of her coworkers. She remembered having a few drinks—maybe more than a few. The rest was a blur. A mild thrill of panic washed over her. Without opening her eyes, she reached out with a hoof and probed the bed around her, finding it empty other than herself. Perking her ears, she listened for any sound of stirring in her cloud home—the sound of water running in the bathroom, the rattle of pots and pans in the kitchen—but only silence presented itself. She let out a sigh of relief, then promptly wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of her own stale breath. Ugh, what was I thinking? she mentally whined, curling into a fuzzy blue ball under the sheets. Sweet Celestia, work’s gonna suuuuuck… She smacked her lips, suddenly aware of just how dry her mouth was. With a hoarse groan, she kicked off her sheets, sat up, and rolled out of bed, her sensitive eyes still clamped firmly shut. She teetered briefly, but quickly regained her balance and began dragging her hooves in the direction of her bathroom. She knew her bedroom well enough, and had enough of her kind’s inborn sense of direction, to stumble blindly towards her bathroom without mishap, grumbling as she went about lifestyle choices and cursing the pony who discovered alcohol. As soon as she felt the denser cloud tiles of her bathroom beneath her hooves, she hung a sharp left and found her way to the sink, giving the wall a solid kick to activate the faucet and sticking her lips directly into the flow. She drank deeply of the condensed cloud water, gulping mouthfuls of it down her dry, scratchy throat. Once she had her fill, she collected some of the cool water in the soles of her hooves and splashed it in her face. Feeling more like a living pony again, Rainbow shut off the tap and stood up straight, then slowly opened her eyes. This time, the action was met not with regret, but with confusion, for the bewildering sight that Rainbow was confronted with in the mirror made her freeze on the spot. It wasn’t the veiny puffiness of her reflection’s eyes that made her body go rigid. Nor was it the bags under those eyes, or the frazzled state of her mane. It wasn’t even the chaotic disarray of her bathroom, visible behind her in the mirror. She had been expecting all of these things already. What she hadn’t been expecting—what caused her sluggish, hung-over train of thought to leap from its tracks—was the fact that every inch of the mirror’s surface reflected in varying shades of black and white. Rainbow Dash stood stock still for a moment and simply stared at her reflection, the expression on her face shifting like a glacier’s descent through a valley. She could barely even comprehend the colorless creature looking back at her. The radiant spectrum of her mane, her sky-blue coat and ruby-like eyes—all of it: gray. “What the hay?” she whispered. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly reached with her hoof to poke at the seemingly defective mirror, then froze at the limb came within her line of sight and she realized, through the clearing fog of her mind, that the mirror wasn’t the problem at all. She tried rubbing her eyes and giving her head a good shake, but these, too, failed to remedy the situation. She turned slowly, fearfully, and took in the sight of her bathroom. The blue towel hanging from its hook on the wall? Gray. The orange bottle of shampoo on the rim of her bathtub? Gray. Her green and gold toothbrush sitting in a cup by the sink? Of course, gray. She opened and closed her mouth a few times in a feeble attempt to utter a comprehensible thought, confusion melting away into something else as the reality of the situation pressed down on her like a weight. A sudden surge of adrenaline freed her of her paralysis, and she galloped from the bathroom, past the formerly blue bed in which she had woken in blissful ignorance, and skidded to a halt at her window, looking out at a world she only marginally recognized. Everything, from the thatched rooftops of Ponyville to the patchwork quilt of cropland surrounding it, from the dark expanse of the Everfree Forest in the south to the gleaming spires of Canterlot in the north, was the same dull hue, all laid out under a dreary, cloudless sky. She tried not to hyperventilate. Really, she did. She closed her eyes and sank to the floor, placing her head between her front hooves and taking long, deep breaths. Okay, Rainbow, she thought. This is all… just a d-dream, or something. Yeah! That has to be it. I’m not colorblind. I, of all ponies, can’t be colorblind. I’ll just open my eyes and wake up. Okay… one, two, three… Go! She peeked one eye open, and instantly her hope was dashed against the rocks. With a heavy breath, she hung her head, her grayscale mane covering her eyes and veiling that lifeless world from her sight. She felt a tiny nudge against her foreleg. She raised her head and looked, finding a little gray tortoise looking at her with a concerned, anxious expression. She sniffled and scooped him up in her forelegs, nuzzling his shell with her cheek. “Oh, Tank… What’s going on? Was it all that drinking I did last night? I’ve heard them say too much alcohol can make you go blind, but not color blind! Celestia as my witness, if everything can just go back to normal, I’ll never touch another drop!” She looked at Tank’s face as he slowly fidgeted in her grip. “H-hey, don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get this fixed… somehow. Everything’ll be back to normal before I—… er, before you know it. Just try to be brave for me, okay?” Tank gave her a slow, slow blink. “That’s the spirit!” she said, attempting a smile. After another moment spent soaking up Tank’s love, Rainbow set the tortoise down and stood, turning to look out the window at the drab lengths of Ponyville. “I oughta go to the hospital and get this checked out,” she muttered idly. However, she found her eyes drawn to Twilight’s library, rising high above the neighboring houses. She bit her lip. The idea of visiting her friend was appealing—comforting—but, for reasons she couldn’t quite pin down, she found herself hesitant. Something poked at her mind, like a word at the tip of her tongue, or a memory slipping through her hooves like water. With a snort, she shrugged the feeling off and made up her mind. “Y’know what? I think I’ll go see Twilight instead. I bet she’ll know what to do!” She leaned down and touched her nose to Tank’s. “You stay here, and try not to worry too much, alright? We’ll beat this…” Turning to the window, she extended her wings and gave them a strong flap, propelling herself out the window and into the skies over Ponyville. She tore through the air like a silver bullet, eyes on the library and the salvation she hoped to find within, swallowing down the last unchewed bit of reluctance. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she was oblivious to the town below—oblivious to the nervous energy coursing down its streets, and to the mare standing on one street… * * * * … watching Rainbow Dash fly by overhead. At least, she assumed it was Rainbow Dash, judging by the gray stripes left in her wake as she darted across the sky. Minuette shrugged, resuming her scrutiny of the street and the tense, confused, colorless ponies walking down it. She leaned against the front of her practice, a cup of coffee levitating beside her, her expression one of vaguely amused indifference. Make no mistake, she was just as confounded as everypony else by the sudden lack of color in their colorful little town. But having lived in Ponyville for the better part of her life, she’d learned to expect this sort of thing from time to time. The fact that her fellow Ponyvilleans were always so caught off guard actually worried her more than the colorlessness did. She was interrupted from her musing by the sound of flapping to her left. Turning to see, she found a familiar mailmare rounding the bend. She smiled at the sight, taking some small comfort in the mailmare’s unchanged gray coat. “Good morning, Minuette!” the bubbly mare chirped as she landed with a wobble. “Morning, Miss Hooves,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “Crazy weather we’re having, huh?” Derpy asked as she began to fish around in her mailbag. The dentist looked up to the gray sky. “I guess that’s one word for it.” “Sorry if I’m a little late,” Derpy said, finally pulling a small bundle of mail out of her bag and passing it to Minuette. “I ordered a blueberry muffin at Sugarcube Corner, and it took Pinkie Pie almost ten minutes figure out which ones were which. Maybe I should’ve asked for a grayberry muffin.” She giggled at her own joke. “Mm-hmm.” Minuette rifled through her mail with her once-blue magic. Junk mostly; a few payments mixed in. “Well, I ought to be going. I’m behind as it is. Have a nice day, Minuette!” “Take it easy,” she replied, levitating the mail into her practice and onto the receptionist's desk before pouring more coffee down her gullet. Derpy’s voice echoed from a few houses down. “Oh hey, Big Macintosh! Nice apples!” Minuette gave a lewd smirk and said under her breath: “I’m quite fond of his apples, myself.” She craned her neck to see, then widened her eyes. Even without his red coat, Big Macintosh was easily recognizable by his massive frame, which was presently burdened with the largest single concentration of apples that Minuette had ever lain eyes on. Behind him, he pulled a train of three wagons, each loaded to the brim with the historically red fruit. Furthermore, he wore baskets of apples on either side of his body, like a pair of saddlebags, as well as two more baskets stacked up on his back. “Whoa…” Minuette croaked. “That’s quite a load you have there.” “Eeyup,” the strained stallion stammered, sweat running down his face in rivulets. “Just yesterday, we got an order of apples for some festival up in Canterlot, and we were up all night harvestin’ for it. Now I gotta lug it to yon train station.” “Do you need any help?” “Eenope. But thank ye all the same, Miss Minuette.” She watched as one of the wagons’ wheels got stuck in a gap between cobblestones, and discreetly used her magic to help get it loose. “Where’s Applejack?” she asked. “She went to see Tw—… um, Princess Twilight. About the sitchation.” He indicated their surroundings with his nose. “I see. Well, you be careful. If you got a hernia, I won’t be able to help you.” With a polite nod, he continued on his way, tugging his load behind him. She watched until his rippling, muscular hindquarters disappeared from view. She coughed awkwardly. On any other day, a blush might have been visible on her cheeks. “There you are!” called a relieved voice. “Hmm?” She turned, finding Bon Bon trotting in her direction with a relieved smile on her face and visible tension in her posture. “I’ve been looking all over Ponyville for you,” Bon Bon said as she approached. “I couldn’t bear being in my shop a moment longer—all my beautiful candy looking like that.” Ah, yes. Bon Bon’s candy. Quite the controversial topic between Minuette’s inner dentist and businessmare. It might not be in keeping with the spirit of her hippocratic oath, but she had Bon Bon’s candy to thank for that pool she put in last summer. Of course, that still left the matter of why, exactly, Bon Bon had apparently been looking for her. She opened her mouth to ask, only to be interrupted by the distressed candymaker. “I’m starting to get a little freaked out by this whole thing. The ponies around town have been calling it ‘The Graying’. Kind of dramatic, if you asked me, but it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you right now.” With me? Minuette thought with a quirk of her eyebrow. Without fanfare, Bon Bon leaned forward and planted a comfort-seeking kiss directly on Minuette’s lips. Minuette froze, every hair on her body standing on end. Her heterosexuality, instantly alerted, conjured in her mind images of Big Mac’s rear end, but the rest of her mind, derailed as it was by the mare on her lips, accepted the images like a cave might accept an echo. Bon Bon pulled out of the kiss with a smile, then stopped and squinted. “Lyra, did you change your mane? Something seems… different. And not just because it’s gray.” Minuette, still petrified, mumbled something. “Sorry, what was that?” Minuette mustered all her strength and managed to form the words. “I’m not Lyra.” Bon Bon just stared at her for a moment, then craned her neck to the side to get a better look at the other mare’s cutie mark, which, she was surprised to see, was an hourglass, and not a lyre. Wanting for further input, she raised her eyes, looking at the sign hanging from the shop that bore the likeness of a comical set of teeth and a toothbrush. “Oh dear…” Unfortunately, the lack of color did little to hide Bon Bon’s blush. Minuette, finally regaining her fine motor skills, averted her eyes from the awkwardness before her, only to spot an entirely new strata of awkwardness standing just down the street. Minuette winced, and Bon Bon followed her gaze. There stood Lyra, mouth hanging open and eyes filled with hurt. With a sudden movement, Lyra turned and bolted down the street. Bon Bon was hot on her heels in an instant. “Wait, Lyra! Please! I thought she was you!” Minuette watched as the two mares disappeared around the bend. With a groan and the beginnings of a headache, she turned and walked into her practice. “Yeah, I think that’s enough Ponyville for today.” The door closed with finality. * * * * Twilight had had just about enough of Ponyville, herself. She mentally went through her long list of grievances. The fact that none of her friends had shown up for the meteor shower last night was definitely one of them, as was her restless night’s sleep. Then there was the whole business with the color—or lack thereof, rather. Hadn’t that been a lovely surprise to wake up to? And naturally, half of Ponyville had flocked to her doorstep, hoping for some kind of explanation. She had eventually put Spike on turn-ponies-away-and-offer-them-platitudes duty. Even worse was the fact that she didn’t have an explanation. She was just as stumped as everypony else. But she couldn’t very well tell them that, could she? She was Twilight Sparkle. Fixing things was what she did. It was what princesses did. The most recent item of her mental checklist was the four chattering voices behind her. Despite her very clear instructions to Spike, she supposed she couldn’t blame him for letting them in. They were her friends, after all. Friends who had wasted no time at all in blessing her with their company when it was in their interests to do so. Her ear gave an irritated flick, and she hunched lower in her seat as if the posture might deflect the distracting voices. Not that it mattered, really. The book in front of her was a pretense, an accomplice in the act of appearing useful. She hadn’t really had the time or the wherewithal to do any real research yet. But at the moment, looking busy was the most desirable option in a room full of alternatives. “What I don’t understand is how somethin’ like this is even possible!” Applejack’s voice drawled behind her. “I don’t pretend to know much about magic, but even I know this don’t make a lick o’ sense! If’n it was somethin’ like… oh, I dunno, Discord, maybe I could wrap my head around it. Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t him, sugarcube?” Fluttershy’s timid voice rose in response. “I don’t think so. He’s not even in town right now.” Her tone became slightly critical. “Besides, Applejack, he’s changed. We can’t just blame him every time something strange happens.” “I don’t think Applejack meant anything by it, darling. And I agree: Somehow, this doesn’t seem like Discord’s… style, as t’were. But Applejack raises a good point. Even as a unicorn, I’m positively flummoxed! I couldn’t believe my eyes as I walked through the boutique this morning. It was simply dreadful! All my dresses, struck down in their prime!” “You and me both, sister,” Pinkie added, albeit in a more subdued tone than one would normally expect from the priorly pink party pony. “The bakery didn’t even feel like Sugarcube Corner anymore. It was more like ‘Dreary, Dull, Who Would Even Want To Buy A Cupcake Here?’ Corner.” Twilight felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. She added it to the list. With a sigh, she snapped the book shut, just loudly enough to get their attention and return some semblance of peace to the library. She could feel their eyes on her back, and without a word she levitated the book back to its proper place on the shelf. “Didn’t find nothin’, I reckon?” “You reckon right. I have no idea what’s causing this.” They watched as she trotted back to her writing desk and began using her telekinesis to straighten it, nudging everything into parallels and right angles. Not that it was necessary; she’d already organized it after writing her letter that morning. Still, it gave her something to do. “Are you alright, darling?” Rarity asked, taking a step forward. “You seem a little… preoccupied.” Twilight suspect that wasn’t the first word that had come to mind. “Well, I’m sorry if I seem ‘preoccupied’, Rarity, but maybe you can understand my situation. I’m just as stumped by all of this as you are. And that bothers me, because I know I’m letting everypony down. That’s why you came here, right? You needed my help?” Rarity’s ears folded back. “Twilight, I…” A sudden commotion drew everypony’s attention to Pinkie Pie, whose tail was twitching like a thing possessed. Pinkie looked at the spasming appendage, then said, “Uh-oh.” Everypony looked to the ceiling in alarm, but none of them saw anything that might fall. For a tense moment, they waited. They nearly jumped out of their skins when one of the windows shattered and a disheveled Rainbow Dash skidded to a halt in their midst. Pinkie looked at Rainbow, then at her tail, and said, “Ohhhhhhh.” The pegasus shook fragments of glass from her mane. “Twilight! It’s awful! You gotta—” She paused briefly, noticing that all of their friends were present and raising an eyebrow. “Why is everypony here?” she asked. She shook her head. “Never mind! You’ve gotta help me, Twilight!” she wailed. “I’ve gone colorblind!” “Um, Rainbow…” Fluttershy tried to cut in. “None of us can—” But Rainbow was oblivious. “I kinda, sorta went to a bar last night,” she said, falling to her haunches and clutching her head between trembling hooves. She sniffled, then continued in a shaky voice. “And I might’ve gotten a teeeeensy bit carried away…” “Dear, if you’ll just calm down…” “Oh, how could I have been so stupid?! Stupid stupid stupid!” “Rainbow!” Applejack grabbed the hysterical pegasus by her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Get ahold of yourself! It ain’t just you, alright?!” Rainbow instantly fell silent, meeting Applejack’s eyes. “What.” “It’s true, Dashie,” Pinkie spoke up. “All the colors just packed up and left.” “It’s… not just me?” Rainbow appeared to puzzle this over for a moment. “Okay. Cool.” She pulled free of Applejack, swept a hoof through her mane, and gave her wings a flick, as if it might erase her previous behavior from the record. “So what’s the plan, then?” All five them turned to Twilight, who had been watching the proceedings in silence. She didn’t say anything, however. Instead, she just stared at Rainbow with an unreadable expression. “So.” Her voice small. “You went drinking last night?” With a squeak, the door to the kitchen swung open and Spike waddled through, carrying a steaming cup of coffee. “Here you go, Twi. Maybe this’ll nip that headache in the bud.” She finally averted her dull eyes from Rainbow, turning to Spike with the first, albeit faint, smile any of them had seen on her all morning. “Thanks, Spike,” she said, levitating the cup and taking a small sip. Spike cut his eyes in the others’ direction, biting his lip. Rainbow, however, merely tapped her hoof against the floor. Then, with furrowed eyebrows: “Um, Twilight? Aren’t you gonna do something? Like, try some kind of spell, or write a letter to Princess Celestia, or… something?” “I already wrote her a letter,” Twilight replied without looking away from her coffee. “She hasn’t written me back yet.” “Oh.” Rainbow tongued the inside of her cheek, examining the numerous bookshelves lining the walls. “Have you tried reading up on it? Because, I gotta admit, this whole no-color thing is kinda freaking me out a little, and you don’t seem to be in much of a hurry to figure it out. There’s gotta be—mmmfff!” Applejack turned away from where she had stuffed her hoof into Rainbow’s mouth and winced in Twilight’s direction. “I think what Twenty Shades of Gray here is tryin’ to say is: We’re feelin’ mighty useless, sugarcube. You sure there ain’t somethin’ we,”—she shot the muffled pegasus a glare—“can do to help?” “Yes, Twilight,” Rarity said, stepping forward. “All of us are just sitting on our hooves when we could be doing something. Just tell us what to do, and we’ll do it.” “I don’t know!” Twilight said, more forcefully than she intended. The others recoiled slightly. Twilight saw it, and her posture slumped. Her headache seemed to kick up a notch. “I-I’m sorry, girls…” Quieter this time. “I’m just… I haven’t had much of a chance to look into this yet. But I will.” She turned away from them and approached a shelf, looking at the books. “I’m a princess now. It’s my responsibility to see to things like this. The five of you don’t have to worry about it, okay? You can count on me.” “But darling, surely there’s something we can do to he—” “No.” The library became still as a tomb. “I’ll fix this. I promise.” The other five exchanged confused, almost wounded looks. “And who knows?” Twilight continued, her breath struggling not to catch in her throat. “Maybe Celestia will have some answers.” As if on cue, a thunderous belch issued from Spike’s mouth, filling the library with green light. They all looked in time to see a scroll bearing the royal seal fall to the floor. In the awkward silence that followed, Twilight lifted the scroll in her magic. “See?” she said with as much cheer as she could muster. “Now we’ll finally start to get somewhere, right girls?” The others nodded, not quite meeting her eyes. She cleared her throat, opened the scroll, and began to read: “My dear Princess Twilight,” Twilight stopped reading, biting her lip. She raised the scroll a little, like a shield, took a deep breath, and continued. “I must confess, I have no idea what to tell you. I realize that this probably isn’t what you want to hear. However, everything in Canterlot is precisely as it should be—colors and all. And, even as I write this, I sit on one of the upper balconies, looking out onto the valleys to the south, and there Ponyville sits, bright and colorful as ever. “Please don’t think I doubt you, Twilight. If you say that all the colors in Ponyville have vanished, then of course I believe you. And as it happens, yours isn’t the only report I’ve received from that area. Whatever this phenomenon is, it appears to be localized, which, of course, raises an entirely different set of questions. “Rest assured, I have already assigned a team of palace scribes to scour the archives for anything even remotely resembling this situation, and I plan to meet with a few of the professors at my school to gather their input as well. “I suggest you do some research of your own, regardless. We both know you can do the research of a half-dozen scribes single-hoofedly. As mysterious and unexpected as this phenomenon is, I’m certain the citizens of Ponyville can count on you to find a solution. “And speaking of your fellow Ponyvilleans, I’m sure they’re confused and concerned. If you could, please read the follow portion to them.” * * * * “My little ponies.” The monochromatic crowd of ponies hushed instantly, looking to the front steps of town hall where Twilight addressed them with flared wings. Mayor Mare stood by her side, and the other element bearers lined up in a row behind them. Even though Twilight was the one standing in the spotlight, Rainbow felt oddly self-conscious in front of all those ponies. What must they think, seeing her in this state? Were they staring at her? Laughing, at the most colorful pony in town being reduced to just another face in the crowd? Rainbow knew they were silly thoughts, and tried to shake them out of her mind, instead focusing her attention on Twilight’s voice as she continued reading from the scroll. “I realize how strange this situation must be for you. But from what Princess Twilight tells me, there doesn’t seem to be any immediate danger involved. Measures are being taken to ascertain the cause of the phenomenon, and it will be reversed as soon as possible. Should the situation be ongoing, I will even come to Ponyville myself when I am able. In the meantime, I advise you to remain calm and go about your normal, day-to-day activities. “I expect that, in no time at all, Ponyville will again be the colorful town we’ve all come to know and love. “Yours truly, Princess Celestia.” The gathered townsponies began to murmur amongst themselves. Seemingly satisfied, they began to disperse—some to their homes or businesses, others into little, chattering groups clumped here and there around the edges of the square. Rainbow watched it all for a moment, then cut her eyes in Twilight’s direction, noticing as her friend’s posture gave the tiniest of slumps. Her new wings folded—slowly, as if with conscious thought—to her sides. Twilight turned to face them, wearing the same smile she’d used for the crowds. “I g-guess that’s it, huh?” she said, tucking Celestia’s scroll under her wing. Fluttershy stepped towards her. “I really think you made them all feel better, Twilight.” “What now, ya think?” Applejack asked. “Now…” Twilight looked in the direction of her library, visible even from several blocks away. “Now, I suppose I hit the books. With all the goings-on this morning, not to mention waiting for Princess Celestia’s reply, I barely even scratched the surface. There has to be something useful in one of those books.” “I know you told us you’d handle it,” Rarity asked, “but are you sure there’s nothing we can do?” Twilight took a moment before responding. “No, I’m sure. The fewer distractions I have, the better. But thank you. If I need your help, I’ll find you.” Pinkie leaned forward slightly on her hooves. “I’ll check up on you later, okay? I’ll bring you a snack, or something.” “Thanks, Pinkie…” Rainbow opened her mouth to say something, but bit the words off as Twilight started trotting away. She looked to the others, at a loss for what to do. Spotting Spike following in Twilight’s heels, Rarity perked and called, “Oh, Spike! Would you be a dear and assist me for a moment?” The dragon stopped, looking back and forth between the unicorn and the former unicorn and biting his lip. “What with?” he asked. “Uhhhh…” Rarity sweated lightly. “Why, w-with some gems, of course! Yes! Without the benefit of color, I’m having a devil of a time telling them apart. Might you be willing to lend your draconian expertise?” Spike looked to Twilight uncertainly. Twilight merely looked over her shoulder, giving Spike a hopeless smile, and said, “Go ahead, Spike. Sounds like quite a pickle.” “Okay. I’ll meet you at the library.” She gave a nod and continued on at a brisk canter. Spike watched her for a moment, then made his way to the other five, fidgeting impatiently. “Okay, where are those gems?” Rarity’s ears drooped. “Sincerest apologies for the ruse, darling. I merely wanted to ask about Twilight.” “Oh.” He slumped. “Well, alright. What about her?” “Is she feeling alright?” Fluttershy asked. “She’s been actin’ a mite… distant, if’n you haven’t noticed.” “Oh…” Spike looked over his shoulder even though Twilight was long gone. “I think she just has her feelings a little hurt about last night.” “Last night?” Dash said quietly, wading through her still hung-over mind to recall her hazy memories of the previous night. Once again, she had the feeling she was forgetting something. Spike looked at them with a raised eyebrow. “You know? The meteor shower.” He took a step away. “Well, if that’s all, I gotta help Twilight with her research. See you guys around.” They watched as he jogged away, none of them moving. “Oh heavens,” Rarity said, raising a hoof to her mouth. “She must be upset that I didn’t show up. I’d intended to go, of course, but poor Sweetie Belle took sick yesterday, and I stayed up late tending to her. I only left her alone this morning because of this ‘Graying’ nonsense. I assumed my absence last night would be negligible, since all of you would be there.” She looked to Applejack for confirmation, then stopped short as the farmer’s eyes widened. “Applejack?” Applejack removed her stetson. “Well… As a matter o’ fact, I didn’t go neither. We had a sudden order due this morning, and Macky and I stayed up last harvestin’ for it. Just like you, Rarity, I didn’t figure it’d make much difference if lil’ old me missed out.” “Oh, dear.” Rarity turned to Pinkie. “What about you, darling. Did you go?” “Nuh-uh.” Her mane deflated slightly before their eyes. “The Cakes had a family emergency last night, and I had to babysit the twins. I couldn’t just leave them there alone.” “And I was busy taking care of my animals,” Fluttershy spoke up quietly, hiding a little behind her mane. “The poor dears were so spooked all day yesterday, and I was worried about them…” All four them turned to Rainbow. She gulped. “I just… forgot…” They all stood there under the weight of an awkward silence. “I don’t believe it,” Applejack said. “Not a one of us showed up.” “And poor Twilight was looking forward to that meteor shower for so long…” “I feel simply awful…” The others continued to talk amongst themselves, but by now Rainbow was off in her own little world. How could she have forgotten? Twilight had been yapping about that meteor shower for weeks. Maybe even months. And she’d meant to go! But she’d had to work overtime yesterday, and then Cloudchaser had invited her out for drinks, and it just… slipped her mind. Suddenly, that look in Twilight’s eyes made a lot more sense. Rainbow tried not to imagine her sitting there alone—well, not alone; Spike had been there—waiting for them to show up. Rainbow froze suddenly, something in the distance catching her attention. There, the midst of a drove of ponies across the square, a familiar face towered above all the others. White plumage caught the gray light; a frowning beak. Their eyes locked across the distance, and Rainbow felt herself struggling to breathe, her mouth opening and closing in a futile attempt to put what she was seeing into words, a single velar plosive teetering at the edge of her tongue. All she could manage was a thought: What is she doing here? “Don’t you think so, darling?” Rainbow jumped, whipping her head toward her friends. “Um, w-what?” “Don’t’ you think we should do something to make it up to Twilight?” “O-oh… yeah, totally…” she replied. She cast a glance back across the square, but the spectre was nowhere to be seen. “Might wanna give her some space for now, though,” Applejack suggested. “Especially with the Grayin’ and all…” “Yeah. Besides, you heard what she said.” Pinkie cleared her throat and gave an uncanny impersonation of Twilight’s voice. “’The fewer distractions, the better.’” “You’re probably right,” Rarity said. “For now, we do as Princess Celestia said and simply try to go on with our routines. But let’s agree to all get together and think of something, shall we?” With nods and farewells, they went their separate ways, leaving Rainbow standing alone on the cobblestones. She stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where she’d seen the avian apparition, as if expecting it to reappear. When it didn’t, she shook it loose from her mind and took to the sky. They’re right, she thought, beating her wings furiously. We’ve got to make it up to Twilight somehow. I’m Rainbow Dash, after all. And I don’t leave my friends hanging. She wrestled with the urge to look over her shoulder one more time. Usually. * * * * Deep in the Everfree Forest, a patch of bushes began to rustle and sway, then parted, allowing a striped form to trot through. “What is this? Is this the place?” Zecora said. She froze on the spot, looking out at the scene before her with her mouth hung open. It was a clearing—a polite word for it. For a hundred yards or more, every bit of foliage had been forced to the earth, the remaining leaves blackened. Mighty trees lay tilted to the side, all away from the same location at the center of the devastation. The clearing was utterly silent, devoid of singing birds or buzzing insects. On trembling hooves, Zecora took a step forward and squinted towards the center, spotting an indentation in the ground. Though she couldn’t see what lay within, her coat stood on end, and she found herself stepping backwards without even meaning to. Setting her jaw, Zecora turned and retreated into the underbrush from whence she came, this time steering to the left, towards Ponyville. “I must alert the others, face to face!”