Four days later, my home still reeked of burnt couch. I’d gotten used to it quickly enough, but Daring Do didn’t have that luxury. As soon as I let her in, her face scrunched up in disgust, and she looked around, sniffing occasionally. She’d even remembered her helmet this time, so the day was off to a good start.
“Alright, I give up. What smells like a dragon’s rear end?” Daring asked, sitting in the same chair she did last time.
I lay down on the mostly pristine sofa—I’d spilled a drink on it less than two hours after the delivery workers showed up at my door. “A princess lit my old couch on fire.”
It had only taken a day for Twilight to surprise me with a new couch, but it would still be several months before I let her forget about the incident. Its color didn’t match my decor, but then again, neither did the rest of my furniture’s.
“I’m not sure if I should be worried that Ponyville’s weirdness has spread this far from town. Speaking of weird, what’s with the sun and moon being out at the same time?”
“Wait, what?” I couldn’t see either one through the window, but the sky’s color did look a bit off.
“How could you not notice?”
“Letting you in was the only time I could have noticed, and I was too busy wondering who was stopping me from sleeping until the afternoon.” Damn morning ponies.
“Suck it up. Tonight’s the Summer Sun Celebration. Do you think that might have something to do with it?”
Twilight had mentioned something about it yesterday, but I’d been too excited about my first Equestrian holiday to pay too much attention. “It’s the first one since Twilight became a Princess, so maybe? It’s probably nothing to worry about, unless something interesting happened a thousand years ago.”
“Eight-hundred-and-thirty-six years, sure, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Daring chuckled as she produced a scroll and laid it on the table. “Anyway, here’s the complete list of workers and crew members.”
The scroll wasn’t mangled too badly by the time I managed to unroll it and look through the list of names. “I don’t know why I expected to know any of these ponies.”
“Orso’s a griffon, actually. A bit paranoid, but you won’t find a better lookout this far from the Griffon Kingdoms.” Daring’s words threw me off—I’d expected Gilda to be the first griffon I ran into.
I glanced back over the list of positions. “No co-pilot?” I wasn’t sure how Equestria handled airships, but only one pilot sounded like a recipe for disaster. Then again, I didn’t know if they still thought filling blimps with hydrogen was a good idea.
She casually waved off the question. “Leafwind’s all the pilot we need, and he comes with a list of recommendations as long as my leg.”
It wouldn’t have taken nearly as long to find the pony I’d be training if I’d bothered to ask what the name of the position was. In hindsight, “Mechanic—Thaumic Engineering” was pretty obvious. “What can you tell me about Smoky Sparks?”
Daring shrugged. “Never met ‘em.”
The name sounded pony-ish at least. “Can you at least tell me if it’s a mare or stallion?”
Daring shrugged again, chuckling as I rolled my eyes.
There had to be at least a hundred names on the list. Most were workers, but the crew was still a couple dozen strong. “This list is a lot longer than I thought it would be. Where are all of you going to be staying?”
“Most of the airship crew is going to be back in Canterlot, training for the expedition—I know my way around a scouting expedition, but a lot of these ponies are pretty green. Besides, there’s no reason for us to be around while the ship is being built. For everybody else, they’ll be putting up a few temporary buildings.”
I wished she would’ve mentioned the housing situation earlier, but whatever they did with the borrowed land was their business. They were paying for it, after all. “Makes sense to me. Ponyville doesn’t have enough spare beds for a project of this size.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t expect it to be so small with how often stuff happens. Small towns are usually pretty boring. Do you have any other questions about the workers or crew?”
After a moment’s thought, I couldn’t find anything either of us left out. “Nope, everything’s peachy on my end.” The poor choice of words left me craving peaches.
“Works for me. With all that business done, I wanted to ask about that shiny new leg of yours.” She gestured towards me, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“It’s just a prototype to use while I work on something better.” Even if I hadn’t been spooked that one night, it was foolish of me to attach the thaumite directly to the aluminium. One impact in the wrong spot and I would have had the same problem. Even worse, anything I could have used as an insulating layer would have thrown off the weight too much.
“Still, I know a few ponies who would love to get their hooves on something like that.”
“I was going to find somebody who could manufacture them once I get the final blueprints drawn up. It took a lot of time getting the measurements and adjustments just right for mine.” I could only imagine how much of a nightmare it would be without being able to feel it for myself.
“I’ll get out of your mane then.” Daring paused halfway to the door and looked over her shoulder. “Next time I’m around, let’s do something not related to the expedition. You probably know where all the fun stuff is around here.”
“I only know a few places, but I know just the ponies to ask.” Maybe I hadn’t been getting out as much as I should have, but better late than never.
“Bring them too. We’ll go bar-hopping or something.” Could the great Daring Do handle a Sonic Rainboom? Even if she couldn’t, I still wanted to see it happen.
“They’ll probably be up for it.” If I didn’t include Dash, she would probably leave a thunderstorm in my bathroom.
“Good to hear. I’ll get in touch when—”
I’m not sure what ridiculously high reflex save Daring needed to dodge the door as it flew open, but she jumped out of harm’s way and reached for her whip with the ease of years of experience. The whip’s usual spot was empty, though one out-of-breath diamond dog wouldn’t have posed much of a threat if it were hostile anyway.
Balto doubled over, panting heavily. “Beta—Beta—”
I didn’t want to listen to him for an hour. “Catch your breath, then tell me what’s going on.”
It didn’t take long for him to recover—none of the diamond dogs were out of shape, but sprinting to my door in heavy armor wasn’t a casual activity. “Vines and clouds from cursed forest attack pony town.” There were very few locations for which diamond dogs used the official name, but it was more trouble than it was worth to try teaching them otherwise.
I almost laughed at the thought of clouds invading anything, but then I realized they’d probably shoot flames or lasers—the Everfree Forest wasn’t known for its benevolence. The more I thought about it, vines and clouds made for a strange attack force, especially when the forest has plenty of manticores and timberwolves to spare.
“Looks like there’s more to it than we thought, Daring. Balto, thanks for the alert. Take a break.” I was already outside before I remembered my other visitor and called back through the doorway, “Daring, follow if you want, but I need to help Ponyville with their weed problem.”
She laughed. “Of course I’m coming. No way I’d miss out on some Ponyville action. Besides, you can’t exactly do much to those clouds.”
Not yet at least. “Oh sure, rub it in.”
I couldn’t gallop or even canter, but we still made good time getting to the main hall, where Daring whistled in approval. Nearly every battle-ready pack member—a couple dozen, give or take a few—was present and waiting for instructions.
Sound travelled so well that I barely had to raise my voice. “Are all the runners finished?” I waited for five confirmations before continuing, “Alright, Ponyville’s in trouble again. This time, it’s the Everfree’s fault. Is anything showing up in the tunnels?”
Western Agate stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Most of our tunnels remain free of obstruction, but nearly a third of the Ponyville tunnel is infested with vines.”
With any luck, the tracks would be easy to clear. “Anything worth noting about them?”
“They seem to possess a mind of their own in addition to their sharp thorns. Furthermore, unicorn magic has become… unpredictable.”
“Good thing I don’t have a horn then.” If magic was out of the question, blasting rods probably weren’t a good idea either. I worked out a plan as the pack stood quietly. “Listen up. Andesite, Chert, and Diorite squads, you’re with me. Felsite and Granite squads, your job is to keep the tunnel as clear as possible. Don’t give those dandelions an inch. The rest of you are keeping watch around here to make sure nothing sneaks by.”
There were no complaints as they organized into their respective groups—or at least tried to. Most of them didn’t remember what squad they’d been assigned to. That was alright, since I didn’t either. Still, it wasn’t too bad for only a few days of practice.
“Close enough.” The groups were uneven and mismatched, but we’d already wasted plenty of time. “Edged weapons only. Plants don’t care how hard you can swing a hammer. Let’s gear up and go.”
The already sloppy ranks blurred further as they funnelled into the tunnels with Daring and me right behind them. The lack of discipline meant nothing, as I held no illusions of being the commander of an organized force. Ponyville just needed a little extra help holding itself together long enough for the Mane Six to learn some random friendship lesson—with how major the situation looked, my bits were on Twilight—or get bored and smack it upside the head with a rainbow.
“About time we got moving.” Daring chuckled as she walked, her head on a swivel to take in as much of the caves as possible. “Don’t suppose you have a supply of gardening shears laying around?”
“Nope. They’re not much use in the rock farm, and I’m the worst gardener around.” It was true—I was pretty much the worst earth pony ever when it came to plants of any kind. “Besides, that would make things too easy.”
“Can’t have that, or we might get bored.” It was good to see that Daring had her priorities straight.
It wasn’t long before the group was scrambling around the portion of the storeroom set aside for armor and weapons. Calling it an armory would have been a little generous. There were more than enough swords and axes to go around, because Fido didn’t know when to stop smithing—well, he probably did but just chose to ignore it.
“I’m impressed. The quality is far beyond what I’ve seen in other diamond dog packs. Heck, this would put most pony smiths to shame,” Daring said as she looked over a sword.
“Fido’s something of a prodigy.” If it wouldn’t have been so impractical in this situation, I would have swung my pick until my neck or jaw ached. Even so, fastening a hatchet to my saddlebags almost felt like I was cheating on the tool tied to the opposite side. “Are you going to take it or just look at it?”
“Was someplace else for a bit. The only traces I’ve seen of diamond dog culture—before now, of course—have been dusty ruins and near-impassable tunnel systems. It’s like the other packs don’t even care. Now’s not really the time for me to be talking about this though.”
“Probably not.” I surveyed the room and noticed everydog was finished—if we were just grabbing weapons, it would have been in and out, but some needed the time to equip shields and armor. “Alright, let’s get to the Ponyville Tunnel on the double.”
Thankfully, our destination was just two turns and a short walk away. There were only two sets of tracks, but it was a simple matter to connect enough carts to carry all of us.
“I don’t know…” Daring knocked on one of the carts, the resulting clang echoing through the tunnels. “Last time I was in a minecart didn’t go so well. Cults and lava are a nasty combination, and I almost lost my helmet.”
“Walk if you want, but there’s no magma anywhere near the tracks.” Probably. There was a small section that always felt a bit warmer, but that could have been a few things. “Not to mention these are powered by magic instead of gravity and inertia. We’re leaving now though, so make up your mind before we pick up too much speed.”
I normally would have had us start at three times the speed, but I wanted to give Daring a chance to hop in.
She fidgeted and jumped into the cart behind mine. Her voice was still understandable over the low rumble of the slowly accelerating wheels and the gentle jostling of armed and armored dogs. “For the record, I’m uncomfortable, not scared.”
I smirked and pulled my goggles down, which most of the pack took as a sign to grip their carts tighter. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” I shouted to the other carts, “We need to pick up the pace. Double speed!”
Daring hunkered down in her cart. “Horsefeathers.” We were still going too slow for my taste, but any faster and we wouldn’t have been able to stop in time.
It’d be a little while before we saw anything, so there was plenty of time for me to take a little break before we had to get to work. I’d found myself taking breaks more and more often over the previous week, and without them, I would have likely been overwhelmed. They were probably the only reason my nerves hadn’t frayed. I was quite relaxed by the time the carts started to slow, coming to a stop after a few minor bumps.
A writhing mess of vines blocked off the entire width of the tunnel. They were so densely packed that I couldn’t see more than a few meters, and even if I’d thought there was a chance at ramming through them, the minecart tracks had been warped to uselessness.
I sighed. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”
The high—if you were a pony—sides of the minecarts weren’t Gears-friendly, and I tumbled to the ground when I tried to climb over the side. A stricter leader may have been miffed by the chuckles coming from every cart, but I was just as amused. “Let’s get chopping.”
Progress was slower than dial-up. We weren’t dragging our hooves or paws, but it was like trying to empty a well with a thimble. The vines may have been as hardy as tree roots, but it wasn’t anything a sharp enough blade couldn’t handle—there were just too many of them in the way. Worse yet, they didn’t take kindly to being trimmed, and several of us had found out just how sharp those thorns were when they lashed out.
“Do these colors remind anybody else of Chrysalis?” Granted, the moldy blue-green was a bit off, but it was still close to her black-and-green color scheme.
“Gears, nobody can understand you with that handle in your mouth.” Daring sighed as she wielded the borrowed sword like a machete. She’d been as enthusiastic as any of us when we started, but now it was just boring. Chop, chop, dodge. Chop, chop, swear loudly as a thorn nicked you in just the right spot.
I made sure to set the hatchet down in a way that would make it easy for me to pick it up again. “I asked if the color of these vines reminded anybody of Chrysalis. You know, tall, black, and buggy? Staged a half-assed invasion of Canterlot until she was launched away at the speed of love?” If I had to guess, the speed of love was how fast someone moved when they realized they’d forgotten their anniversary.
“I’ve only seen a few pictures of her, so I can’t say for certain. What would she be doing in the Everfree?”
“Besides mixing Miracle-Gro with Venom?”
“I don’t know what the first one is or why poison would be used as plant food, but yes.” She wasn’t entirely off, since Venom could be considered a poison of sorts.
“Revenge or distraction would be my guess.” A villainous plot with her at the helm would probably be much more complicated, but I was having trouble reminding myself that this Equestria wasn’t a kid’s show.
“I guess that—Gears, get down!” She flapped her wings to aid her jump, propelling her in front of my face so fast that I couldn’t track her.
Something heavy fell past my head, and I reared in surprise. That wasn’t something I’d thought to test the prosthetic with, but it performed admirably nonetheless. A part of me cringed at the very equine reaction, but at least I hadn’t whinnied.
My axe wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and I certainly hadn’t left it with a severed vine wrapped around the handle. With a snort, I untangled the axe and said, “I have to call bullshit on that one.” The pointy parts were bad enough—we didn’t need the unholy offspring of Audrey II and Jack Torrance.
“You need to pay more attention. This—” Daring poked my side, sending fiery pain racing across my hide and making me wince “—is bad enough.” She turned down her volume as she noticed a few diamond dogs risking glances. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve been a little out of it ever since the ride here.”
I turned to get a better look at the spot she’d more-or-less suckerpunched. “Oh wow, no wonder that stung.” A ragged tear, which reminded me of a coat getting caught on a nail, marred my side. It wasn’t very long or deep, but it was still enough to stain the surrounding fur a soggy red. “I must have nicked something when I fell out of the minecart.”
Daring shook her head. “No, I watched this one hap—we don’t have time for this. You know what? Get your act together or keep your head down.” She turned and got back to work, her slow and precise swings replaced by quick and fierce slashes.
I had no idea what she was getting at. I couldn’t dodge very well, and it wasn’t like I had a suit of armor—barding, whatever—laying around the house in case of emergencies. Actually, armor was starting to sound like a great idea. After the armory was fully stocked and if there was no need for miscellaneous metalworking, I’d have to see what sort of masterpiece Fido came up with.
I caught my thoughts wandering and shook my head to clear it. Daydreaming about armor did nothing to protect my squishy parts. Daring was right—I needed to get my head out of the clouds, or I was going to lose it. And I liked my head where it was, thank you very much.
“I thought I told you to stay out of the way.” Of course, when Daring—and pretty much every other pony that isn’t me—talks with stuff in her mouth, she’s almost understandable. Was there a class somewhere?
“No, you told me to pull my head out of my ass.” What I wanted to say and what came out were as different as diet soda and regular, but Daring got the gist of it, if her smirk was any indication.
By the time we reached the ramp leading up to Ponyville proper, we all looked like we’d been looking for hay in a needlestack, though I was still the owner of the nastiest-looking cut. Behind us, the vines were already working to retake the tunnel, but they didn’t look like they’d forgotten who had bloodied their metaphorical noses.
“Just a bit farther! We may not be the cavalry Ponyville wants, but we’re the one it gets.” The townsfolk had been slowly coming around. Most of our support was from the changeling residents, who I was inadvertently helping by further acclimatizing the citizens of Ponyville to non-ponies.
I yelped as sunlight pierced through a hole in the barrier and right into my eyes, and the pained whines behind me told me I wasn’t alone. I was starting to think that maybe it was the sun who had an issue with me, not Celestia. With transition lenses far beyond Equestria’s tech level, I’d have to find a different way to add shades to my goggles.
“Those clouds might be a bit tougher than I thought. I’d best get started.” Daring took to the air, sword gleaming in the sunlight.
“Do those clouds have spikes?” I asked myself. Sure enough, each of the clouds had more spikes than the average volleyball game. “I’m not okay with this.” What were they even made of?
As expected, Ponyville was a complete mess. Vines covered every building, and in a few places, it was impossible to tell what lay beneath. The crackling, groan-like sound of plants growing far faster than usual mixed with panicked screams and shouts. A few ponies and changelings weren’t letting the vines take over their homes without a fight, though I doubted the effectiveness of the pony recklessly swinging a rake.
I dropped the hatchet and put a hoof on it so it wouldn’t be “borrowed” again. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us. We’ll split into groups of three. Just follow the screams and escort anyone caught outside to the—wait, the town hall is the designated disaster shelter, right?” I was answered with a few shrugs. “Eh, escort them there anyway. If they look really messed up, get them to the hospital instead.”
“What about you, Beta?” one of the diamond dogs asked.
I shrugged. “Probably just follow you guys around and help where I’m needed.”
“Oh, I could use your help. My poor kitty is stuck up in that tree.”
The voice sounded familiar enough that I had an inkling of who it was, but I was still surprised enough to nearly jump out of my skin when he appeared out of nowhere right next to me. Contrary to popular belief, I did not scream like a filly. I may have gasped loudly, but there was no screaming. None whatsoever.
Once my heart calmed to a pace slightly lower than a hummingbird’s, I motioned for everydog to relax. “I’m fine. He just surprised me. Go ahead without me, and I’ll catch up.” As I looked at their hesitant expressions and rigid postures, I remembered that their history portrayed Discord as the one that got away. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“I don’t see why. After all, I’ve done just fine with two eyes for this long.” There was a popping noise that made my skin crawl, and Discord started juggling his eyeballs. I was going to cry if he started taking a bite out of them mid-juggle.
Trying not to pay attention to the fact that he was juggling two or three times as many eyeballs as he started with, I turned back to the group. “See, he’s only a danger to himself now. He’s not an escapee anymore. Also, there are ponies who need help a lot more than I do at the moment.” With that, they finally started to reluctantly disperse, most of them shooting a final glare in Discord’s direction.
Even if you ignored the assorted body parts and near-infinite extent of his power, there was still something about Discord’s presence that was unnerving, like someone asking, “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” while jumping up and down on a derelict rope bridge during a typhoon.
“You have a cat?” I couldn’t help but wonder about the real reason he wanted my attention.
Discord sniffled. “Yes, and I just don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.” He pulled a tissue out of his ear and blew his nose, spraying flames that came within centimeters of singeing my mane.
Once I’d made sure I wasn’t on fire, I squinted into the branches, absently wondering why the vines didn’t care much about ensnaring this particular tree. It took me a bit to spot the cat clinging tightly to one of the upper limbs.
“Discord, that’s Rarity’s cat.” Avatar of Chaos or not, I wasn’t going near Opal with anything less protective than a bomb-disposal suit.
The crocodile tears stopped instantly, and he looked where I was pointing. “Huh, so it is. Never mind then.” He called to me as he started walking away, “Walk with me, ‘Sterling Gears’.” It wasn’t a request, and the half-mocking emphasis he put on my name could only mean one thing.
“As much as I’d love to talk with you, I came here to help out Ponyville. If you couldn’t tell, they’re having a bit of a crisis here.” I pointed to where three diamond dogs were working to untangle a pair of trapped ponies.
“They’ll be fine, but if it makes you feel better…” He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, causing a weedwhacker bearing my cutie mark to pop into existence and begin trimming while whistling a jaunty tune. “Happy?”
“I guess that works. I didn’t think Equestria had those yet.”
“They don’t.” His motions slowed as he adjusted his pace for me, throwing his voice out of sync with his mouth.
“Right, Discord. W—”
“No, you can’t call me ‘John’.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask. Pl—”
“No, I can’t fix your leg.”
That one made me frown. “Also not what I was going to ask but still disappointing. H—”
“Why yes, you can have an extra hour in the ball pit. Here’s your voucher.” He flicked a small piece of paper over his shoulder, and it meandered through the air like a drunken bumblebee before finding its way into my saddlebags.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what Discord considered a ball pit. “Thanks, I guess. Can I finally ask my question without getting interrupted?”
“Why would I interrupt you? That would be rude.”
I deadpanned. “Yes, yes it would. What did you want to talk about?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to see the human-in-Equestria for myself. For the record, I didn’t do it.”
I would have been more worried about him sharing my secret if we weren’t outside of Ponyville and on the path towards the Everfree. There was no way we were walking that fast, but if there’s anything I’d learned about Equestria, it’s that “magic” and “Discord” are valid excuses for anything. Our pace might have also had something to do with the vines moving out of our way—well, Discord’s way. I was just nearby.
“Didn’t do what?”
“Bring you here. It seems poor ol’ Discord is always the first to blame when humans start frolicking.”
I smothered my own hope before it could so much as flicker. “I was told there were no other humans here, and I know for a fact it’s nobody from my world.”
“Tia and Luna don’t know everything, but I wasn’t talking about this Equestria.”
“You’ve been to other universes?” I hoped Discord wouldn’t mind if I sounded a bit terse—my last experience with an extradimensional being hadn’t been pleasant.
“Of course not. I lost my passport ages ago.” Discord produced a floral-print paper cup with a string dangling from its bottom. He must have noticed my expression, as he added, “We went wireless a few decades ago, but my contract won’t let me get rid of the string.”
“What else have the other Discords said?”
“Oh, this and that. One thing that stuck—” a wave of rainbow fire raced along the vines, leaving not even ash behind. “They’re early. For once.”
I rubbed my eyes, though it did nothing to get rid of the after-image. Apparently, rainbow flames are very, very bright. “What were you saying earlier?”
“Hmm? Oh, right. They mentioned a certain pony that just adores humans.” With a snap of his fingers, Lyra appeared and stumbled off the path.
“Gears? What’s going on?” Lyra asked, her eyes rolling haphazardly.
I figured Discord would have been the first to draw her attention, but then again, even Bon Bon had no clue what Lyra was going to do half the time. It was almost like a Pinkie Pie bound by physics. “Ask him.”
Lyra gasped as if she’d just noticed him. “Discord? That explains how I’m here, but not why.”
“I was simply wondering if you knew anything about humans.”
Resisting the urge to groan, I facehoofed. He could have at least tried to be subtle.
Her face scrunched occasionally as she plumbed the depths of her mind. After half a minute, she cheerily answered, “Nope! Is that some kind of fruit?”
Discord shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“Alright then. Oh hey, Gears, me and Bon Bon are having a cookout in a few days, want to come?”
My stomach rebelled at the thought of a cookout’s usual spread back on Earth—operant conditioning was a bitch. Still, anything Lyra and Bon Bon were hosting wouldn’t have that issue, and Bon Bon was a great cook. “I’ll be there.”
“Great! You can come too, Discord, if you send me back.” No doubt Lyra was going to hear it from Bon Bon when she found out about one of the additional guests.
“I’ll be sure to make an appearance. Toodles.” He threw a checkered sheet over Lyra, and instead of draping over her, it fell to the ground like there wasn’t a pony under it in the first place. Discord sighed. “Zero out of two. I always knew the other mes were a little off their collective rockers, but this is just annoying. Oh well, the call rates were getting a bit pricey anyway.”
“You do know any available knowledge about humans is pretty much a state secret, right?” Maybe not a state secret, but it wasn’t something I wanted to be reminded about. Helping Twilight was one thing, but I wasn’t inclined to have a casual conversation about it with Discord.
“Why would there be a state secret about fruit?”
“Never mind.”
As we started walking again, the sun and moon got their shit together and went to their appropriate positions, deciding that it was early afternoon without bickering. Being able to tell the time again was useful, but I kinda liked the way it had looked earlier.
We didn’t stop until we were just outside the Everfree. As I looked into the trees and foliage, I realized this was the closest I’d ever been to it. It didn’t make me quiver in fear, but there was something foreboding about it, like a rundown cabin in a slasher flick. Even now, I could almost hear the screams for help, the panicked running, and the cheap special effects.
Discord’s voice made me jump. “Why do you think I wished to speak with you?”
“I don’t know. I figured you would have gotten info from Celestia and Luna.”
He scoffed and gestured in Canterlot’s direction. “Those two? Share with me? I may not have been a model citizen, but I have just as much a say in the dealings of this world as they do.”
“Not just Equestria?”
“I may have said a little too much.” He hadn’t even tried to sound like he did it on accident.
“Discord, if I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you do and say precisely what you mean to.”
“You can’t trust what you read on the internet, Sterling. Nor can you trust published material or anybody other than yourself. Even then, there’s no guarantee.”
I wanted eccentric Discord back. This one turned that unnerving feeling up to eleven, and he was still holding it back to be nice. It felt like he’d shatter my mind as soon as he grew tired of me.
I gulped, taking a step back and trying to keep my legs convinced that we didn’t need to book it. “That sounds more than a little paranoid.”
Discord chuckled, and it almost sounded… sad? “No paranoia, just experience.”
The feeling almost entirely dropped off, wreaking havoc with my instincts. Most of them screamed to get out of there as fast as I could carry myself, some wanted me to give him a reassuring pat—or a hug if I was feeling generous—and one even suggested that I go find out what Poison Joke would do to me.
Surprising myself a bit, I went with the hug, though I filed away the Poison Joke curiosity for a later date. I was going to blame being a pony, but that only made me remember Dave getting frustrated and telling me to stop using it as an excuse. I pushed down the knot in my throat and said, “Sorry I brought it up.”
His eyebrow hit a cloud before it was done raising, and he gently pushed me away. “You need to take fewer drugs.”
I rolled my eyes. “I should probably get back to Ponyville and reorganize the diamond dogs. If you want to talk later, you know where to find me.” Most of it was me being friendly, but a part of me just wanted another non-pony’s view of things.
Just like that, I was at the tunnel’s Ponyville entrance, trying my best not to lose my breakfast. A few ponies gave me a curious glance, or I at least thought they did. It was a little hard to tell with how much the world was spinning.
I was still swaying a bit as I set off but remained standing. Ponyville didn’t look as damaged as I thought it would. In fact, most of the damage looked like it had been caused by panicking townsfolk, which wasn’t really surprising the more I thought about it. Ponyville was the panic capital of Equestria, after all.
Fortunately, the diamond dogs had made an impact, mostly in steering the panicked ponies towards the town hall and keeping them from causing any more damage. Balsa was even on her way back from taking a pony to the hospital—he’d broken a leg jumping out a window to escape like the worst action hero ever. I told each diamond dog I found that our job was done and they could go back to doing whatever.
I must have found over half of them before Daring landed next to me, breathing heavily and sweating but sporting a huge grin. “That was a blast! I should visit Ponyville more often.”
If I’d had any doubts about Daring being a thrillseeker, they’d been banished to the moon with no chance of parole. “Glad to see you enjoyed yourself.”
“Where were you most of the time? I wasn’t really looking, but I only saw you in the beginning.”
I gestured in the general direction of the Everfree. “Discord wanted to chat. Couldn’t exactly refuse.”
“No, I guess not.”
“How were the clouds?”
She gave a short laugh. “A bit stubborn but hardly worth the effort. Now that all the fun’s over, I’m—”
The world blurred as I was plucked out of Ponyville and deposited elsewhere in less time than it would have taken to blink. My stomach apparently hadn’t recovered from the earlier nausea, and I immediately vomited into the grass I found myself standing in.
I wiped my mouth with a fetlock, refusing to take my eyes off the ground until the world stopped looking like it was trying to shake me off. “Why is Twilight the only one who can teleport others without making them feel like they just got off a rocket-powered carousel?”
“What’d you do to her?” Dash asked. I couldn’t see her, but chances were that she was hovering in front of somebody’s face.
“Don’t give me those looks. I didn’t make her sick on purpose,” Discord said. “I didn’t rough her up either.”
I didn’t notice any approaching figures until two sets of hooves appeared at the edge of my vision.
“There, there,” Fluttershy said as either her or Twilight rubbed my back.
“How are you feeling, Sterling?” Twilight asked. Hearing her meant much more to me—both sounded genuine in their concern, but she considered me a friend and not just a sick pony to take care of.
“Just a little dizzy. I’ll be fine shortly.”
“The painkiller the doctor most likely prescribed lists dizziness as a side effect,” Fluttershy said. “You should really get these cuts cleaned up, especially this one on your side.”
“It just stings a little, and I was going to patch myself up later. Alright, I think I’m good now.” The world still moved a bit more than it was supposed to, but I could handle it.
“Are you sure? You should really get that taken care of as soon as possible.”
“It will be soon, but Discord brought me here for a reason—why are you in a maid’s outfit, Discord?” A lot of his jokes had punchlines, even if they didn’t make sense. This was just weird.
“Why are you?” he replied with a smirk.
The outfit was light, but its weight was still noticeable. “I wear it better.”
The clothing disappeared as Discord guffawed. It was hard to tell if Pinkie or he was laughing harder, though bubbles didn’t spray out of Pinkie’s mouth.
“Silliness aside, why were these vines here now?” Applejack’s voice sounded like she hadn’t found any of it amusing, but her mouth still possessed the last vestiges of a smile.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Discord said, tapping his claws against his mouth. “Those seeds I planted should have sprouted ages ago.”
“What did you just say?” Twilight shouted, energy beginning to gather around her horn.
He actually looked worried for a moment. “Now, now. There’s no need to be so hasty. I could tell you, or I could show you.” He held out a bottle to Twilight, who quickly took a drink despite being ready to tear Discord apart on a subatomic level.
I frowned and jabbed a hoof at Discord. “You dick, I thought you weren’t a bad guy anymore.”
He chuckled. “I am not a crook.”
I nodded towards Twilight, whose eyes glowed with magic as she stared into the distance. “Is she looking into the past or something?”
“An interesting item for a zebra to possess, is it not?” The bottle had looked zebra-ish, now that he’d pointed it out. I hadn’t visited Zecora since she’d been at Twilight’s, and maybe it was time to change that.
Twilight came back to reality before I could push further. She looked torn between using the Royal Canterlot Voice with a magic boost and sparing her friends’ hearing. “We could have used this information earlier, Discord.”
“But then you would have missed the moral of the story,” Discord replied as if it was obvious enough that he was wondering why Twilight wasn’t wearing a dunce cap.
I cut in before the argument could gather too much steam. “Why am I here? I’m not really necessary for any of this.”
“I mentioned your weed-pulling efforts and figured you’d want to be present. Also, you amuse me.”
“Very few things don’t.” Internally, I was wondering what kind of amusing Discord meant. Was it for comedy or to see what kind of trouble found me?
“Too true.”
Pinkie appeared next to me as we started walking, and the smell of frosting was just enough of a warning to stop me from yelping. “How’d they do?” she asked.
“Better than expected.” I wanted to find a way to keep her from surprising me, but even if I could convince her to tie a bell around her neck, she’d still be sneakier than Sam Fisher with a Stealth Boy.
“Great! I’ll have to bring them a little something tomorrow. Are you coming to Canterlot for the Summer Sun Celebration?”
“Can’t. Have to make sure the Ponyville tunnel’s repairs go smoothly. Those vines tore up the track.” It also didn’t help that I was exhausted and starting to ache.
“Aww, are you sure? It’d probably mean a lot to Twilight.” There were quite a few who thought Rarity was the group’s master of manipulation, but Pinkie was willing to fight dirty.
Glancing over to where the others were chatting with each other and frowning at Discord, I saw that Twilight’s ears were turned in our direction and she was failing at not looking hopeful. The rest of the Mane Six would be there, and I didn’t want to compete with Spike to see who could make a better seventh wheel, but then again, there hadn’t been a chance to visit Donut Joe’s last time I’d been in Canterlot. It was between making Twilight happy and getting donuts or not being awkward and getting sleep.
I sighed. “Alright, I’ll go, but I need to drop this stuff off, get cleaned up, and check in with the pack.” Dressing up didn’t sound worth it, but I could at least wash out the blood and dirt as well as bandage the worst injuries. “Hey, Discord, could I get one last teleport home please?”
“Only if I get a horsey ride later.” His request was accompanied by snickers from Dash and a blush from Rarity, who apparently needed to get her mind out of the gutter.
“Sure, whatever.”
I’d braced for the dizziness but still lost my balance and stumbled into the front door. “I’m still blaming that on you, Discord.”
It didn’t take near as long to recover, and I was soon shaking off my saddlebags and toolbelt, wincing as they came in contact with the cuts. They’d get cleaned soon, but I wanted a few minutes to wind down. Even if we were leaving for Canterlot soon, the shortcut back had earned enough extra time for me to take a small break.
“I know this wasn’t here when I left.” My coffee table had seen a few oddities, and the lime-green mailbox modelled after a barn was definitely the gaudiest. Hopefully, the note taped to the front would explain why the SkyMall reject was there.
Here’s a little “thank you” for keeping an old man company. —D
“Well, that should have been obvious.” I couldn’t help but think he had some sort of ulterior motive sending this to me. Whatever it was, it’d probably be beyond my comprehension on a good day, though that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
The little barn dinged. “You’ve got mail!”
“Dammit, Discord.” I chuckled, opening the mailbox, though my amusement quickly turned to a groan.
A black-and-white maid’s outfit lay inside.