Chapter 6
A Rose By Any Other Name Will Still Prick You With Its Thorns
Atop a small cloud which drifted lazily over Ponyville’s rooftops, Celestia continued to mope. Despite spending the day under much stronger sunlight than usual, all that energy had drained away when the moon rose, leaving her too lethargic and unmotivated to move from her perch.
What a terrible day, said the annoying voice of her self-doubt as it made its nightly visit. It feels awful, being rejected so completely by all your loyal ponies.
She could only sigh in response.
Below her, the ponies finally seemed to be calming down. With the moon in the sky and the air cooling rapidly, most were settling into their homes for the evening.
They’re so happy to see Luna’s night. So happy to be rid of the day. Ingrates, all of them. After all you’ve done for them, all you’ve sacrificed for a thousand years, they throw you aside like garbage.
Celestia’s eyes narrowed, and her face stiffened into a glare as she watched the ponies going about their business.
They never give you anything; they only take. They take your freedom because they can’t care for themselves. They take your time. They take your attention. They take your very will to be yourself and leave you as nothing more than a puppet, dancing on the strings of their selfish desires.
Why did she never have such thoughts during the day, she wondered.
Because they won’t allow it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of wings and the soft thump of hooves touching down on the edge of her cloud. She lifted her head and gazed into a pair of green eyes, framed by beige fur. “Captain Cirrus? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on Blueblood?”
“Princess,” said Cirrus, snapping off a smart salute as Celestia rose to her hooves, “that’s why I’m here. The situation at Sweet Apple Acres is getting out of control. Prince Blueblood has ordered the others to lay siege to the farmhouse.”
Celestia groaned. No matter how hard you try, it all goes wrong. It’s not your fault, though. If Blueblood had only done as you commanded, everypony would be happy.
“Yes, that much is true,” Celestia muttered, casting her gaze toward the orchard.
Cirrus cocked her head and stared into Celestia’s eyes. “You already knew?”
“What?” Celestia said as she turned her attention back to Cirrus, whose brow was furrowed in a way that might as well have been the word “confusion” stamped on her face in big red letters. “Of course not! I was just talking to… Never mind.”
“Princess… are you feeling okay?”
Forcing a smile, Celestia answered, “Yes, Captain, I’m fine.”
Celestia grit her teeth as Cirrus, unable to leave well enough alone, pressed the issue. “Please pardon me for being so blunt, Your Highness, but I don’t believe that’s true. Something is clearly bothering you.”
Again, Celestia was of two minds about how to respond. One half of her brain tried to tell her to be honest and tell Cirrus the truth about her feelings, but it was drowned out by the other half. Such disrespect! You said you were fine, but that’s not good enough for her. She thinks she knows better than you! She’s exactly like Blueblood and the rest. She just takes and takes, like all the others, and none of them ever give you anything but questions about your judgment!
“Captain, I am tired of having my judgment questioned,” Celestia said.
“Princess, I’m only concerned about your well-being!” Cirrus replied, taking a step forward.
What would she know about your well-being?
Celestia took a step forward and looked down her nose at Cirrus, her eyes blazing with reflections of the flames in her psyche. “What would you know about my well-being?”
Cirrus took a step back. “Princess, please, I don’t presume—”
All she does is presume!
“All you do is presume!” Celestia bellowed as she stepped forward and leaned in until her muzzle was close enough for her breath to sunburn Cirrus’ nose.
She thinks you can’t do anything right on your own!
“You think I can’t do anything on my own!” Celestia took another step forward, pressing Cirrus toward the edge of the cloud.
But you don’t need her!
“Well, I don’t need you!” Another step.
You don’t need any of them!
“I don’t need any of you!” Another step forward pushed Cirrus to the edge.
I’m the only one you really need!
“Yes! The only one I really need is—”
Cirrus’ hooves scrambled for purchase on the cloud’s edge, but Princess Celestia was still pressing forward, about to drive her off completely. She unfurled her wings, but the princess stopped in mid-step, as well as mid-sentence. The dancing lights in her eyes exploded into a torrent of white incandescence, and Cirrus was forced to slam her eyes shut and cover them with a hoof to avoid being blinded.
She took another step back and slipped off the cloud, but instinctively went into a steady hover. After a moment, the light started to die down, so she opened her eyes partly and peered past her hoof.
Princess Celestia’s wings were closed, but she was hovering above the cloud, nonetheless. As Cirrus watched, her eyes changed shape, the pupils contracting into cat-like slits, and her teeth elongated into sharp fangs. Flames spewed from her horn and swirled around her.
Cirrus cried out, but her voice was lost amid the roar of the flames, and after a few seconds, the heat intensified too much for her to stay. Backing away, she looked around for any sign of aid, but none was coming, although the ponies below had begun to notice the conflagration over their heads.
She had to go find help, and there was only one place she could turn, so she turned away and flew as fast as she could, heading for the narrow ring of clouds above the library.
Within the library, Luna rested atop a large cushion in the center of the main room. A lethargic flick of her magic turned the page of a book that was becoming more boring with every word she read. The tedium was momentarily broken as Spike brought a fresh cup of herbal tea, a blend apparently recommended by a zebra apothecary living in the forest, but the pattern on the teacup could only hold her interest for a moment before its appeal fell below that of the book.
As she turned one mind-numbing page after another, she occasionally glanced into the corner where her crown and torc had landed after she stomped through the door and threw them aside. She briefly considered picking them up and putting them with her shoes—the most comfortable set she had ever owned—which were neatly laid upon a table, but it just wasn’t worth the energy.
She hummed softly to herself as she continued to read, testing her vocal cords. The note broke when she tried to bring it up to a normal speaking volume, but she smiled anyway. It was more than she had managed since the previous morning, after all.
Her smile grew wider as she felt the sun making way in the sky. She hopped up onto her hooves, and without even stepping to the window to see it, she reached out with her magic, gripped the moon, and pulled it into position to start its cycle. With the transition to night completed, her power began to increase with each passing second.
For several minutes, she stood in place, basking in the sensation of renewed energy. The sound of her own breathing filled her ears, interrupted only by the swishing of Spike’s broom. Her throat tingled pleasantly as her regenerative capabilities returned to full power, and though she wasn’t watching, the stars in her hair brightened. Her reverie was eventually broken, however, by a flash of light and a loud pop on the other side of the room.
She jerked her head around and was greeted by the sight of Twilight Sparkle, who only stayed on her hooves for a moment before flopping onto her side with a loud sigh and allowing her tiara to roll off her head. One leg at a time, she kicked her golden shoes off. In Luna’s peripheral vision, Spike kept sweeping the floor without missing a beat, despite the dramatic entrance.
“Good evening, Luna,” Twilight said. “Have you seen Celestia?”
“Nay, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna whispered. “I have not seen her since she left court.”
Twilight perked up as Luna spoke, and her ears swiveled forward to better receive the faint sound. “Luna! You can speak again?”
Luna waved a hoof and shook her head, but a thin smile remained on her face. “Only a little. I can manage naught but a whisper for now. After another night or two, however, I should be fully recovered.”
“That’s still great,” Twilight said, climbing back to her hooves. “Shining lost his voice once, and it took over a week for him to recover.”
“There are… certain advantages in having a connection to the moon. At night, my magic becomes stronger, and I heal more quickly.” Luna paused to take another sip from her cup. “This tea is also helping.”
“That’s good,” Twilight said as she picked up a nearby book. “I’ll be sure to thank Zecora for you next time I see her.”
Luna nodded and returned to her own book, so the only sounds remaining in the library were those of pages turning and Spike’s broom swishing across the floor. Eventually, Spike finished his sweeping and left the room, but that noise was replaced by an owl’s hooting.
Twilight stood up and trotted toward the window, next to which the creature had perched. “Sorry, Owlowiscious,” she said, patting it on the head before opening the window. “Be careful out there, and don’t be gone too long.”
It hooted again and departed.
As Twilight’s pet flew away, Luna’s thoughts drifted back to Canterlot, lingering on time spent in the gardens with Celestia, Philomena, and her own pet. The trip down memory lane came to an abrupt halt, however, as Twilight was settling onto the floor and picking up her book. A surge of magic washed over them, sending chills down Luna’s spine and causing her fur to stand on end as her wings reflexively opened.
Beside her, Twilight’s magic faltered, and her book fell to the floor. “What was that, Luna?”
Before Luna could answer, another wave of raw magical power struck them, stronger than the first. While it was an unusual feeling, she was sure she had experienced it before, long ago. But when was it?
When the third wave passed over her, a familiar sensation of gleeful malice tickled at the corners of her mind. Her wings folded down again, and she slouched as realization dawned. Twilight noticed the change and looked at her expectantly, but Luna could only respond with two simple words. “Oh no.”
Without another thought spared for the library’s other inhabitants, she turned and bolted to the door, her magic flinging it open ahead of her. The guards at the door were too slow to move, but she charged past them anyway, knocking them off their hooves as she ran into the street and spread her wings.
Her destination was obvious; a pillar of flame was spewing into the air from across town. Though the night had hardly begun, the air had cooled enough to allow her to gain altitude easily. Taking wing, she cut a path across the sky and left a faint trail of tiny, fading stars in her wake.
As she approached, the waves of magic continued to grow stronger, hindering her progress by buffeting her with the force of gale winds. Still, she pressed onward, beating her wings as hard and fast as her muscles could push them.
Directly ahead of her, a shape was visible in the fiery vortex. It was a pony’s form, sporting both wings and a horn, as she had expected, but it was much larger than Celestia. As she inched closer, two brilliant spots of light appeared in the inferno, shining through it with the intensity of the noonday sun. The pony within had opened its eyes.
“Sister!” Luna cried, pushing her voice to its limits, as she stretched her hooves out toward the flames. In answer to her call, Celestia’s head turned to face her. Within the blaze, her hooves touched down on the cloud, and her head pressed forward. Her white horn pierced the wall first, but it had grown even longer, and its tip had become a needle-sharp point.
As the horn’s full length emerged, the rest of her face came into view. A golden helm covered her skull in place of her crown. The glow faded from her eyes as they emerged, revealing that while they had retained their pale magenta coloring, they had narrowed into slits.
Luna’s eyes widened as she stared into the face of her sibling. “Sister, no!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she continued to thrust herself forward with renewed vigor, taxing her muscles to their limits as she reached out. “Celestia, you can still fight it! Don’t let it take you!”
Celestia’s face twisted into a malevolent grin, placing her fangs on full display. “You pathetic foal!” she shouted. “There is no more Celestia! There is only—”
At that moment, the flames of Celestia’s transformation vanished, and with them, the forces holding Luna back. One last flap of her wings launched her forward, and with a sound like cannon fire, their heads smashed together.
As the door slammed shut in Luna’s wake, Twilight sighed.
“What’s wrong, Twilight?” said Spike. “Aren’t you going with her?”
Twilight shook her head. “No, Spike. This is a job for a real princess, not somepony like me.”
“Twilight, maybe you forgot about these?” Spike poked at a wing. “They mean that you are a real princess!”
“That’s not what I mean!” snapped Twilight. She turned away from Spike and sighed again. “It’s just that I don’t know how to handle a major crisis. When Celestia and Luna went missing right before the Summer Sun Celebration, I couldn’t do anything on my own.”
“So? You have to learn sometime, right?” said Spike, walking around to look her in the eyes. “Besides, Princess Luna might need your help.”
“No, Spike. It’s not that simple. I can’t go because this is too similar to what happened to Haberdashing.”
“Who?”
“Here. I’ll read it to you,” Twilight said as she levitated Cautionary Tales of Magical Misuse off her table and settled onto the floor to begin.
Haberdashing was a renowned maker of fine sewing materials who resided among the nobles of Unicornia. Though his wares were superb, and they were certainly worthy of great praise, he aspired to even greater heights, which prompted him to learn the art of seduction.
So it was that he came to woo and eventually marry the Countess Mezza Voce, a soft-spoken maiden whose father had passed away and left his title to her. Though he faced fierce competition for her hoof from many noblestallions, his charm defeated their expensive gifts to secure her affections. As a noble, Count Haberdashing was able to live a lifestyle that his humble shop could never have afforded him. However, even that was not enough to sate his hunger.
After two years of marriage, his wife found herself with foal. As her condition debilitated her, she entrusted greater and greater authority to her husband, despite his inexperience in matters of lordship. For a time, the affairs brought before him remained common, but that did not last.
After two months of managing the affairs of his wife’s domain, Count Haberdashing received a missive from the Unicorn queen, intended for Countess Mezza Voce, which ordered her to entreat with with earth ponies at their border to secure the peace of their land. Haberdashing was eager to prove himself to his fellow nobleponies, so he was quick to act.
Without his wife’s knowledge, he drafted a letter to the earth ponies, inviting them to cross the borders and visit their castle, and signed it with her name. However, proper Unicorn custom required more than a simple signature for a document to be recognized as official, so he carefully mimicked his wife’s magical essence and imbued it into the paper.
The letter was sent, and for another month, he did not receive any word of a visit, yet he did not tell the countess of the matter. He wished for the accomplishment to be his own when peace was established and his subjects no longer needed to fear earth pony aggression. There came a day, however, when he received a messenger from the border.
“Your Lordship,” said the messenger, “the border is besieged by the earth pony barbarians. The keeps are falling, and even our magic cannot stand against their numbers.”
“This cannot be!” answered the count. “They were invited to come in peace and entreat for mutual benefit!”
Though Count Haberdashing knew not, the emissaries from the earth pony lands had indeed crossed the borders of Unicornia. When stopped by Unicorn soldiers, the earth ponies presented the letter he had sent, but when the soldiers checked the magical imprint upon the letter, they deemed it false. Thus the earth ponies were put to the spear.
With earth pony troops sweeping across his lands, he could no longer conceal the truth of his folly from his wife, so he told the countess of his failure at dinner that night, and she offered words of kind forgiveness. She promised him that she would pay them tribute, and once it had been done, the fighting would end.
The next morning, when they sat down to breakfast, his wife was somber, and she ate in silence, as did Count Haberdashing. When it was done and the count rose to leave, his strength faded. His own blood passed his lips and spilled onto the table.
To his wife, he spoke one final word before he could speak no more: “Why?”
“My dear husband,” said she, “the tribute I spoke of is your very life, as the blame for the deaths of the earth pony ambassadors is upon your withers. You should have known better than to exceed the authority given to you, for now I must live as a widow, and your child without a father.”
Ambitious little Unicorn, never forget the tale of Haberdashing, for it is always folly to interfere in the affairs of those born to the duties of nobility.
As Twilight finished, Spike’s jaw hit the floor. “Are you kidding me?” he shouted. “That’s all this is about?”
“What?” Twilight said as she closed the book. “No, of course not, Spike. That’s really the whole story.”
Spike stood up, shook his head, and looked directly into her eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Twilight. It’s just some dumb story in some dumb book that doesn’t have anything to do with you!”
Twilight sprang to her hooves as well. “Nothing to do with me? Spike, this has everything to do with me! If I had just remembered the lessons in this book in the first place, none of this would have ever happened!”
Spike took a step back. “Okay, Twilight. I’m sure you’re right. You usually are. I’ll tell you what, though,” he said, suddenly smirking. “How about you let me read that book too? That way, I can learn all the same lessons as you.”
Twilight’s narrowed eyes opened wide, and her frown upended itself. “Spike, that’s a great idea! That way, you can make sure I don’t forget anything important.”
Spike chuckled. “Right, Twilight. My thoughts exactly.”
“Here you go.” She levitated the book into his outstretched claws. “Think you can finish it tonight?”
Spike nodded, and Twilight skipped merrily up the stairs. “I sure hope I can,” he muttered under his breath once she was out of earshot. “Might as well get started.”
Instead of opening the book, however, he ran his claw under the name printed on its cover. “Muddy Stick, huh?” Leaving the book on the floor, he ran to the shelves and scurried up a ladder to the encyclopedias. “Ah, here we are.” He grabbed the volume labeled “M” and climbed down to put it beside the other book.
Sighing loudly, he opened both books. “I really hate research.”
“Fluttershy, wait,” Pinkie said as she lost control of her left front leg.
Fluttershy turned around and looked her, but the spider monkey on her back kept scanning its surroundings with a set of night vision goggles. “We don’t have time for this, Pinkie. They’ll get away!”
“This is bigger than that. My Pinkie Sense is telling me that a fire is about to start.” Pinkie glanced down at her hoof, which was involuntarily drawing circles in the dirt, then back up to Fluttershy. “We need to tell everypony!”
“Are you sure? I don’t see any—”
An orange glow filled the streets as a pillar of fire erupted from a nearby cloud.
“Oh. That fire,” said Fluttershy, her eyes wide.
“Come on, Fluttershy! You have to help me tell everypony!”
Fluttershy pulled away as Pinkie tried to wrap a hoof around her. “I’m sorry, Pinkie, but I can’t. It doesn’t look like anypony is in danger right now, and I have to get home and make sure the animals aren’t panicking.”
“But what about Angel?” Pinkie asked, bouncing up and down on her hooftips. “Are you just gonna let him go?”
Fluttershy brought a hoof to her chin as she thought it over. Before she could come to a conclusion, the monkey tapped on her head. It screeched and nodded at her, and she nodded back. “Great! Thanks. I’ll leave it to you, then.” She turned back to Pinkie. “Jacob says he’ll take care of Angel, so I’m heading home now. Good luck warning everypony,” she called back as she dropped the monkey off before heading home.
A smirk crossed Pinkie’s lips as her eyes narrowed. “Warn them, huh? Yeah, I’ll warn them, all right. But first…” She reached into a nearby mailbox and pulled out a spyglass. “Let’s see what’s happening up there.”
She didn’t even notice as the spider monkey opened the door to one of her hidden supply closets, nor did she hear the dull rumble of an engine as it departed atop a motorized party cannon.
As the pillar came into focus, she could see one figure backing away and a much larger form inside it. There was only one pony in Equestria that could be, and that pony was on her side. “Ooh. She’s good. Better not let it go to waste!”
Pinkie hopped over to the nearest doorway and raised a hoof to knock politely, but caught herself just in time to wipe away her smirk and adjust her posture to batter the door with both front hooves. With her eyes wide and expression looking properly horrified, she bashed the door with both hooves in a way that sounded more like a roll on a snare drum than a proper knock.
Moments later, Roseluck answered the door. “Fire!” screeched Pinkie, pointing at the cloud.
As expected, Rose screamed, ran straight to her neighbor’s house, and pounded on the door in exactly the same way Pinkie had abused her own. Once Lily and Daisy joined her, the riot began in earnest.
Pinkie knocked on a few more doors to keep the pace up, but when the streets started to fill with panicked ponies, she stepped back to admire her work. Within a matter of minutes, most of the town was in an uproar.
The mob ran away from the fire, so Pinkie was soon left on her own, grinning as the others stampeded toward the town square. The sound of flapping wings drew her attention away from them, however, and up into the air, where she saw Princess Luna racing toward Princess Celestia’s scary prank. Since she didn’t know Luna’s intentions, Pinkie decided to play it safe. She took a deep breath, screamed as loud as she could, and bolted in the direction of the square.
She glanced back a minute later as the fire died, just in time to see Princess Luna give her sister a spectacular headbutt.
By the time Fluttershy made it back to her cottage, the orange spire had vanished from the sky, and calm had returned to the heavens. The animals, predictably, were all cowering in the backs of their cages.
“It’s okay, little ones,” she said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She reached into one of the cages to pet a cat that had been hissing and clawing at his neighbor in the next cage, but although he settled down as she stroked his head, he wasn’t calm; he was trembling. “Oh dear. There’s no reason to be afraid. The big, scary firework is gone now.”
Fluttershy reached deeper into the cage to stroke his back, but the cat shifted, minimizing her access. She cocked her head and pulled her hoof back slightly, and the cat relaxed a little, only to tense up again when she reached out once more. “No… You’re scared of me?”
She pulled her hoof out of the cage and stared at the trembling feline, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. “But why? I’m only trying to help you.” She moved to another cage, but as soon as she reached for them, the squirrels within recoiled.
The tears pooled at the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks as she pulled her hoof back. What have I done? she thought. They don’t trust me at all! I’ve failed them…
No!
I’m doing the right thing. To keep them from fighting, they need discipline, and I’m the only one who can give it to them.
Fluttershy took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s like Iron Will said. ‘Only protect what gives you respect.’ If they want me to take care of them, they have to learn to respect me and do what I say.”
The cat and squirrels, which had been creeping toward the open doors of their cages, hurried back to the edge of Fluttershy’s reach as she returned her attention to them. “I’m sorry,” she said as she closed and locked the cages, “but until you learn to trust and obey me, I can’t let you out.”
Her mind set, she proceeded to feed the animals, never letting any of them approach the cage doors. Once that task had been completed, she looked out over the yard, as well as the land beyond, and spotted a small figure approaching. Jacob was returning, and he was holding something. As he reached her, he handed her a thick bundle of tangled party streamers which wriggled in her grasp.
Fluttershy grinned as she shoved the bundle into a cage just as its occupant began to tear free. Even if Jacob didn’t catch Angel and the others, she thought, they’ll still need to come back here to find food. I’ll just have to be ready for them.
All I need is my shovel and a bit of rope.
The sky fire made sense to Angel. Being rather intelligent for a rabbit, he understood that fire and water are opposites. It only stood to reason that if clouds sent water down, they could send fire up. Of course, the water was much more common, and that theory didn’t account for lightning at all, but being rather intelligent for a rabbit is still not particularly intelligent in general, so he didn’t consider those facts.
Still, it provided a distraction for Angel and his friends, so they filed out of the home of a kindly family of mice, who had also agreed to look after the field mouse, and took to the streets. The downside to the sky fire was that it lit some of the streets, which made travel even more dangerous for the group.
Angel led the others from one shadow to the next, careful to check around every corner before stepping into the open and dashing for the next cover. They had barely made it a block when he spotted the yellow bird pony and her comrades around a corner. Though the bird pony and her pink friend were staring at the sky fire, the monkey atop her back was still looking around. For some reason, its face had been covered by a black mask with shiny green eyes.
While the monkey was looking away, Angel watched the others. The bird pony flew away after only a moment longer, but the monkey hopped off her back. Without looking in Angel’s direction, it opened a hidden door in the ground and went inside. Only moments later, as Angel was starting to set a foot into the street, a rumbling noise from the hole gave him pause. He ducked behind the corner just in time to avoid being spotted as the monkey came back up, riding on a rolling blue tube of some sort.
The tube was heading their way, so Angel pushed the others back into the darkest hiding place on the street, one so black that even his white fur was invisible within. As they waited in silence, the roar of the party cannon’s engine came closer. By the time it came into view, the shutters on the nearby houses were all rattling, and flower pots were vibrating toward the edges. It came to a stop in the intersection and the monkey turned its head to look down the opposite street. After a moment, it turned the other way, and the green eyes of its mask stared directly at the rabbits and their friends.
It grinned and started turning its contraption, but before it could line itself up with the group, Angel pushed the others out into the open and urged them to run. Together, the group sprinted down the street, took a right onto the next street, and took another left two more streets down as the monkey was about to roll into view. They hid in the nearest shadowed area to wait.
Once again, the monkey rolled up to the intersection in front of them, and once again, it looked both ways. However, it didn’t make eye contact with Angel and the others. Instead, it faced forward again and rode ahead.
Wasting no time, Angel waved the others out of their cover and toward the direction the monkey had come from. The brown rabbit, lizard, possum, and chicken rounded the corner without even looking back, sprinting as fast as they could, but when Angel came around, he chanced a glance behind.
The monkey was right there, facing them, grinning even more widely than before as it started rolling forward. It had been a trick. Angel ran as fast as his feet could carry him, but it wasn’t enough. The cannon was bearing down on him. From behind, he heard a sound like thunder, and he turned his head to see a ball of brightly colored paper strips flying at him. He faced forward again and tried to run even faster, but his top speed stubbornly refused to increase upon command, and his muscles were already starting to give out.
The paper didn’t hit him, though. A thud from behind told him that the shot had missed, but a yowl of pain told him that it had hit something else: the cat. Angel turned to look back just as the spider monkey passed him. Up ahead, the rest of the group came to a stop and looked back, but the monkey ignored them. It stopped in the middle of the road and began to turn around as Angel ran back to his fallen companion.
He pawed impotently at the mound of paper scraps, but they were too dense for him to break through. Within, the cat was yowling. It managed to push its head through the papers, but the rest of its body was hopeless trapped. As the monkey started to roll forward again, the cat sighed and nodded toward the rest of the group.
Angel stood still, however, as the monkey approached, and the cat nodded more insistently. At the last moment, Angel snapped off a salute, then rolled backward just as the monkey passed by, dodging its hand.
Angel sprinted back to the rest of the group, and before the monkey could finish turning around again, they had slipped away. Instead of making the same mistake as last time, they kept running, making frequent turns and zig-zagging through the street to keep their route unpredictable. However, they soon hit another obstacle.
The rumbling of hooves on the ground ahead indicated a stampede. The group slowed down to approach the road cautiously and came to a stop at the edge of a thundering herd of ponies, all of whom were screaming at the top of their lungs.
It was a dangerous situation, of course, but it was also an opportunity. The monkey couldn’t possibly follow them through that, so Angel motioned for the group to fall in with the ponies. As he was about to lead them onto the street, however, the possum put a paw down on his tail.
When Angel turned around, the possum pointed into the sky. It was another bird pony, dark in color and larger than any he’d ever seen. The possum motioned to follow it. Angel shook his head and tried to break free, but the grip on his tail held fast. Once more, he turned and looked into the other’s eyes, and he noticed that they were full of confidence and determination. Though it was usually passive, the possum obviously had strong feelings on the matter, so it must have known something the others didn’t.
Angel relented, and as he prepared to step out and brave the equine tide, the last of them passed by, leaving the street empty. He cocked his head at the sight of the empty street and squinted through the fading cloud of dust in an attempt to make sure the coast was truly clear, but the possum simply sauntered forward, and the others quickly fell in line behind him. Angel could only shake his head, roll his eyes, and follow the group.
“What do y’all reckon they’re doing?” asked Granny Smith, peering through one of the farmhouse’s first floor windows.
Applejack stared out of another window, watchful for any sign of movement in the darkened orchard. “I dunno, Granny. I ain’t seen ‘em in a while.” She turned around to shout through a doorway. “Anything going on over there, Big Mac?”
From the other side of the house, Mac shouted back to her, “Nope.”
Applejack sighed and turned back to Granny Smith, who was only faintly visible in the moonlight with all the lights in the house extinguished. “I don’t like this one bit. They’re still out there somewhere, and Celestia only knows what they’re up to.”
Silence reigned in the house as the Apples continued to watch the orchard. Applejack’s eyes grew heavier as time passed, and she was only saved from passing out by the sound of Granny Smith’s snoring a few feet away.
“Granny, wake up!”
Snorting and sputtering, Granny jerked upright. “I wasn’t sleeping! I was just resting my eyes a little.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Granny. Sure you were.”
“It don’t matter none, anyway. Them city ponies probably already ran off to sleep in the barn.”
“Nuh uh. If they went to the barn, Big Mac would’a seen ‘em.”
Granny Smith pursed her lips and glanced out the window again. “Well, it ain’t like we’re gonna see anythin’ like this. We might as well go and get some shut-eye.”
Applejack’s brow furrowed and her jaw clenched as she turned around, but the sight of her grandmother silhouetted in the moonlight—looking tired, thin, and frail—stopped her angry words before they passed her lips. “Maybe you’re right, Granny. But we need to take it in turns, so how about you go on and get some sleep now? Big Mac and I will keep watch a while longer.”
Granny Smith didn’t answer. Instead, she kept staring out the window, eyes growing wider by the second.
“Granny? Are you okay?” Applejack said. No answer came, so she turned to look out the window.
In the distance, a spire of orange light had appeared directly over Ponyville. “What in tarnation is that?” Applejack shouted.
“I don’t know, but I do know what those are,” said Granny Smith.
Applejack looked away from the light and followed Granny’s eyes toward the orchard, where the glow from the distant fire had illuminated a massive pile of apples among the trees, surrounded by Blueblood and his minions.
Blueblood looked up at the house and made eye contact with Applejack, and although his face registered surprise for a moment, his mouth quickly closed and curled up into a smirk. He waved a hoof at the others, and they followed behind him as he walked toward the house. The unicorns were all levitating at least a dozen apples apiece, and the earth ponies were carrying baskets full of them.
“Mac!” Applejack shouted. “You better get over here!”
The sounds of scrambling hooves, an impact against a door frame, and a low voice uttering a word none of them wanted Apple Bloom to hear heralded Bic McIntosh’s arrival in the living room. “What’s goin’ on, AJ?”
“Have a look,” said Applejack, stepping aside to give him access to the window.
“Uh oh.” Mac scowled as he looked out into the orchard. “I wonder what they’re plannin’ on doin’ with those.”
In answer to his question, Blueblood shouted, “Fire!”
Applejack dove for cover and Mac leapt to the other window to shield Granny Smith. The windows all shattered at once, and Big Mac cried out in pain as one apple after another pelted his back. Finally, as the first salvo came to an end, Granny Smith managed to move away from the window, and Mac slumped to the floor.
“Mac!” cried Applejack, safe behind the cover of a sofa. “Are you okay?”
He started to push himself back up onto his hooves. “Eey—” He failed and fell back to the floor. “Nope.”
“Fire!” yelled Blueblood, and another hail of apples poured through the windows. Some of them smashed picture frames and small keepsakes on shelves. A few of them bounced off soft objects and landed on the floor unharmed, but most just splattered against the walls.
“This is your last chance, Apples,” Blueblood said. “If you surrender now, you won’t be harmed.”
Applejack looked around the room. Big Mac still hadn’t managed to stand up, and some nasty bruises were starting to form on his back. Granny Smith was dusting herself off, but she was no good in a fight, and there was no way she could take on so many ponies by herself.
Growling to herself, she stomped a hoof onto the floor, cracking the boards. For a long moment, she sat there trembling until she finally calmed herself down, took a deep breath, and stood up to announce their surrender.
“Go stick your horn in a beehive!” Granny Smith yelled, cutting Applejack off. “We ain’t givin’ up. Not to the likes o’ you whippersnappers!”
“So be it, then!” Blueblood screamed back. “Get more apples!” The others all ran toward the pile of apples they had collected to resupply.
“Granny! What the hay were you thinkin’?” said Applejack. “There’s too many of ‘em, and we got no way to fight back!”
“What are you talkin’ about? They’re givin’ us all we need.”
“I don’t know.” Applejack motioned at the walls, which were covered in the shattered remnants of a hundred apples. “Most of ‘em ain’t in any shape to use.”
Granny Smith smiled, but her eyes were narrowed and her pupils were pinpricks. “Then I reckon we just have to make those punks give us some good’uns.”
Applejack followed Granny’s gaze to the sofa. When she turned back, a matching grin was plastered across her face. “Good thinkin’, Granny!”
“Now, you run along and fetch us a couple laundry baskets. I’ll fire up the oven.”
* * * * *
“Okay. I’m all set here,” said Applejack. “How about you, Big Mac?”
“Eeyup,” he said, growling through the words as he forced his swollen back into position.
“All right. They should be about ready for the next volley. On three. One. Two. Three!”
Applejack and Mac sprang up at the same time. As expected, Blueblood’s lackeys had finished resupplying for the second time and were ready to send another hundred apples flying into the house. “Hey, Bluebutt!” yelled Applejack. She followed it up by blowing a raspberry at him while flicking her ears, rolling her eyes, and waving her hooves around. Meanwhile, Mac did the same at the other window.
“Fire!” Blueblood bellowed, his face tinged with red.
As the fruit soared through the air, Applejack and Big McIntosh both ducked and held up sofa cushions. Dozens of apples came through each window, collided with the cushions, and fell neatly into the laundry baskets waiting underneath.
“Hot diggity!” said Granny Smith from the kitchen doorway. “That’s all we need. Now, you kids get to work on boardin’ up them windows, and I’ll get started on the baking!”
Discord had almost gotten used to being small. Sure, it took longer for him to walk from one place to another, but since he didn’t have anywhere to be, that hardly mattered. There was a downside, though. Being tiny meant that a single pony hoof could crush him.
That’s exactly what happened.
He was dimly aware of a commotion, but it didn’t register as anything for him to be concerned about until several ponies had run past him. He looked back just in time to see an entire herd thundering in his direction, the closest one heading right for him. .
A couple of minutes later, he finally popped up out of the dirt. “Well, that was rude,” he muttered as his body accordioned. “I wonder what they were all running from.”
The answer was obvious when he looked up. He returned to his normal size, slithered into the air, and turned his eyes into a pair of binoculars to get a better view of the action. In the distance, Celestia was holding Luna back with a wall of fire. As he watched, though, Celestia dropped her defense, and he fell into hysterical fits of laughter as Luna gave her the accidental headbutt of a lifetime.
While the sisters crumpled onto the cloud beneath them, he lost interest and floated back down to street level.
Everywhere he looked, there was more chaos to see, and he hadn’t been involved in any of it. To his right, a ring of ponies stampeded in a circle around the town hall, stuck in a cycle of every pony following the one in front of them, probably for fear of being trampled if they deviated. To his left, a monkey wearing night vision goggles was riding out of town on a blue cannon, carrying a cat wrapped up in streamers over its shoulder.
It was like he was back in power, except that he wasn’t.
With another sigh, he set off down one of the side streets, kicking a stray bit down the road. After a few blocks, he kicked the coin again, but was too busy watching his feet to see where it went. His attention was drawn upward, however, by the sound of a coin falling into a bucket.
“Hi there,” said a gray unicorn stallion wearing a striped shirt and a boater hat, sitting on a barber shop’s doorstep.
Discord scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be running in circles with the rest of the town?”
“Why bother?” the pony said, his voice deep and rumbling.
Discord narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that what you ponies do now? Cause chaos?”
The pony leaned back and looked up at the stars. “Nah. There’s no such thing.”
“Excuse me? You must not know who you’re talking to.”
“Hard not to know who Discord is. I’m Basso, by the way. Basso Prof—”
“I didn’t ask,” Discord said.
A long moment passed in silence before Basso spoke up again. “Want to sit down?”
“I think I’d rather keep kicking my bit down the road, if it’s all the same to you.”
Basso looked down and smirked. “There’s quite a few bits in that bucket, you know. You sure you can find yours?”
“In that case, maybe I’ll just—”
“Take ‘em all?” said Basso.
Discord looked away, holding his nose as high as possible, then pushing it just a little higher. “Maybe. You think you could do something about it?”
“No.”
Discord and the pony continued to stare at each other until, finally, Discord’s scowl broke and twisted into a half-smile.
“Have a seat,” Basso said.
Shrugging, Discord said, “Don’t mind if I do.” Instead of taking the spot on the step Basso offered, however, Discord conjured up his own throne, one made from a thousand novelty hats fused together. He threw himself down onto the chair and took a swig from an upside-down beer hat near the top.
“So what was that you were saying about there being no such thing as chaos?” asked Discord, pointing all twenty-six of his arms at the chair.
Basso shrugged. “I don’t see the chaos. It looks like a chair, and you can sit on it, so it’s just a chair.”
“Oh yeah? What about this?” Discord snapped a talon and a ten-legged bookcase appeared out of thin air. It leapt through the nearest wall and came back out a few seconds later, chewing on a stack of books.
Again, Basso merely shrugged. “It’s a bookcase. It went after books. Makes sense.”
Growling, Discord snapped his talon again and the bookcase vanished, replaced by a cotton candy cloud that hovered over them and started raining chocolate milk.
“It still floats and drops liquid,” Basso said, licking chocolate from his face.
“Okay, fine!” Discord yelled. “How about this?” He snapped his talon again and the rain stopped, but the cannon-riding, cat-carrying night vision spider monkey appeared in front of them.
Basso opened his mouth, but no words came out. He cocked his head and stared at the confused monkey. His mouth flapped a few more times before he said, “You got me there.”
Discord’s paw made a sound like a thunderclap as it struck his face.
“What’s wrong?” said Basso.
“I didn’t actually make that one,” Discord said as he sent the monkey back to where it had been.
Basso whistled. “Well, whoever did should take over your job.”
Discord scoffed and turned his head away. “Not like it matters. I don’t even have a job anymore. Who needs a spirit of chaos and disharmony when ponies are doing are doing it just as well as I ever did?”
“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way,” said Basso. “Think about it this way. Everything you do makes sense. You create funny clouds that are still recognizable as clouds. You make buildings float, but they’re still buildings, and they’re still in the same spots. You turn roads into soap, but it’s still just on the spots where roads were.”
Discord turned around again. “And just what are you getting at?”
Basso looked him in the eyes and grinned. “It’s pretty simple. It’s not that you’re creating chaos and disharmony; you’re just creating a new kind of harmony.”
“What?” said Discord with his eyebrows raised halfway up his horns.
“It’s like when my group sings. I don’t sing the same notes as the others, but we’re all singing to the same beat. It blends together, and it creates a new sound that none of us could create on our own. That’s pretty much what you do, wouldn’t you say?”
Discord slouched down in his chair as he mulled it over. He hummed to himself as Basso waited patiently beside him. Finally, he smiled as he reached his conclusion. Turning back to Basso, he said, “Not at all!”
Basso frowned and tried to speak, but Discord stopped him by tapping him on the forehead with a claw. Swirls appeared in his eyes, and when they stopped spinning, his pupils were dilated, and his mouth hung open.
“But I must admit, you’ve helped me,” Discord said, rubbing his hands together. “If I want to be able to create chaos ever again, I have to stop the ponies from doing it first. Then, once I’ve brought harmony back, I can mess it up again!” He pointed down the road, toward the town hall. “You should go join your friends now.”
“Yes, of course,” Basso said. He ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs, to join the ring of stampeding ponies at the town hall.
Discord’s maniacal laughter continued to ring in the air long after he vanished.
Luna groaned as consciousness reasserted itself. Her vision was still fuzzy, but she could make out a shape in front of her. Though wreathed in fiery red and orange, its center was white. She rubbed her eyes to try to clear them, but she winced as her leg touched the bruise on her forehead. The adrenaline surge from the sudden pain helped to clear her vision, though.
In front of her laid Celestia, clad in golden armor with a golden helmet, her mane no longer wafting as though touched by a gentle breeze, but spewing forth like a roaring inferno.
“Sister?” whispered Luna as she crawled forward. Looking into Celestia’s closed eyes, she tried again. “Sister, wake up!”
Celestia’s eyes snapped open, and the slitted pupils contracted as they focused on Luna’s face. Grinning to show off her mouth full of fangs, she hissed, “Good morning… sithter.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation and the imminent danger to her own life, Luna couldn’t but snicker.
“Shut up,” Celestia said as she stood up, shoving Luna up onto her own hooves in the process. “I can’t help it. I’m not ushed to theesh teeth.”
Luna tried to suppress the snickers, but instead of fading, they turned into a barking laugh.
“Silensh!” bellowed Celestia, throwing some vibrato into the royal Canterlot voice for extra effect.
It worked. Luna stopped laughing.
“Now, what to do with you, my dear sish… sister.”
Luna snorted at the slip, but it was the last sign of mirth before her face set into a serious expression, brow furrowed and eyes narrow. Her voice low and level, she whispered, “Release my sister, fiend. This instant!”
Celestia walked around to the side, circling around Luna. “Release her? I am her. Surely you must remember how this works.”
Luna turned to keep up with her as she continued circling. “I remember all too well. I remember you corrupting my heart and my mind.”
“Oh, poor little Luna,” Celestia said, pursing her lips in a mock pout. “You appreciated the power you were given back then—power to make the sun-worshipping ponies bow to your will and see you for the wonder you truly were. Now you’re just a pitiful excuse for a mare, doomed to forever be nothing more than the little sister to a pony you could never hope to equal.”
“Your words are meaningless to me. I cannot be swayed by you, Nightmare.”
“Do not call me that, you foalish simpleton, for that is no longer what I am. I am now the bringer of the day, and so my name shall reflect that.” Celestia rose into the air, her hooves held high as she shouted to the heavens, “Henceforth, instead of The Nightmare, I shall be known as… The Awful Daydream!”
Luna was nearly knocked out again by the force of her own hoof colliding with her face.