//------------------------------// // Meeting with Shiny // Story: Sprockets in the North // by Lab //------------------------------// “Twilight, are you going to be alright?” I asked as the two of us walked through the vaulted halls of Canterlot Castle. A quick trip back to the room had let me drop off the box with Dave’s award and grab my saddlebags. It was finally time to meet up with Shining, the part of the night that I was most excited for. Twilight had vehemently denied that she was stomping, but her hoofsteps were louder than mine even though I was the one with the metal leg. “I’m fine.” “Twilight…” “I don’t know! I really don’t, Gears. This is all just so frustrating.” Twilight sighed. “It feels like I’ve never done anything on my own. Every last victory was a lie told to uphold the illusion of accomplishment.” “Not all of them. I’m sure plenty of stuff is one-hundred percent you.” “How can you be certain? How can you know that this conversation didn’t just happen because somepony other than us wanted it to?” I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Twilight. Existential crises are so boring. Blah, blah, what’s the point of anything? We’re just going to die anyway, free will is an illusion, and it’s possible that everything is just a dream.” “That’s rather depressing.” “Only if you overthink it. You know what else is depressing? A kitten on fire. Dammit, now I’m sad.” I would have mentioned commercials that tried guilt-tripping people into donating to charity, but she wouldn’t have understood. Twilight gasped and covered her muzzle. “That’s terrible!” “Yeah, it’s something that’s actually depressing, as compared to just working yourself into a tizzy over stuff that’s futile or inevitable. If something bothers you, break it, fix it, or improve it.” “Why is ‘break it’ first?” “Because it’s usually the easiest.” It was usually the most entertaining too. “And what do you do if none of those are an option?” “Everybody copes in their own way. I prefer to ignore it and hope that it goes away.” My muzzle scrunched as I thought back on my life. “It’s not perfect, but it usually gets the job done.” “That’s not a good way to go through life.” “But at least I am going through life. Look, I’ve been in a situation where everything I did was orchestrated. It’s… not something I want to go through again.” My ears splayed to the sides, and Twilight’s quickly did the same as she realized what I was talking about. “This whole snafu with the princesses and nobles is nothing. No matter what comes of it, both of us have been through far worse.” “We have, haven’t we?” “Don’t let it beat you. Playing along isn’t the same as giving in.” I bumped her with my shoulder and gave a half-hearted grin. “Tell you what. Blow up some rocks with me after we get home. It’s super cathartic, and you wouldn’t need high explosives.” “I don’t know if I’d enjoy it as much as you.” “Don’t knock it until you try it. How much further is that room anyway? I thought you said it was close.” “It was close when we were in the waiting room with Luna. Going back to your room to grab your saddlebags was out of our way.” “I hope Shining Armor isn’t too bored. Gah, should I call him ‘Armor’ or ‘Shining?’ ‘Shining Armor’ is a mouthful, ‘Armor’ sounds weird, and ‘Shining’ also sounds weird because it’s a verb. Actually, you’re probably not the best pony to ask since you’re close enough to call him a nickname.” Twilight giggled. “Sounds like you don’t have much of a choice other than getting close to him.” I scoffed. “Please, Cadence already made that joke.” She stopped giggling and blushed. “That’s not what I meant.” “Maybe you can ask Pinkie or Dash to give you lessons on not blundering into innuendo. Rarity might be a good choice as well with how much she watches what she’s saying. It’s not like I have any interest in romance right now. I have too much to do.” Twilight smiled and nodded. “I know the feeling.” A few seconds later, she spoke again. “That’s the room up ahead on the right.” “Great! I was starting to think you got us lost.” “Gears, I spent years in this castle.” “And most of it was spent reading. If you know so much about it, you should tell me where all the secret passages are.” A castle without secret passages was like a tourist trap without snowglobes. “If I know where any are—and I’m not saying I do, because I don’t—why would I tell you?” “Because as soon as I get the chance, I will yank on anything that could be a secret lever.” I’d also have to remember to check behind tapestries and tip over busts, though I didn’t feel like expending the effort to search for disguised buttons. “Please don’t.” “Did you ever find out what was behind the secret doors in the archives and library?” Her eyes widened. “There was so much going on that I completely forgot about those! I need to make sure I ask Celestia tomorrow!” I reached towards the door handle. “You still coming in to talk to him?” Twilight shook her head slowly. “With everything we discussed on the way here… I have a lot to think about. I want to stay, but Shiny would be able to tell something is wrong.” “I’m sure he’ll still know, especially if these doors aren’t very thick. You’re an open book, and older siblings are just intuitive like that.” “I need time to think. I’m sorry.” She shook her head again and started walking away. “Twilight,” I called after her, and she paused to look at me over her shoulder, “you’re still going to show up to talk later, right?” “Last time I skipped one of our discussions, you fired one of your blasting rods at my bedroom window,” she deadpanned, completely ignoring the fact that I wouldn’t have been trying to get out of the dark if she’d shown up. “So is that a yes?” She rolled her eyes and started walking again. “I’ll see you later tonight, Gears.” Once Twilight was out of sight, I looked the other way to make sure the hallway was clear. Seeing nobody, I pulled on a few of the closest lights. Nothing happened, and I sighed in disappointment. I’d heard from Pinkie that the old castle in the Everfree had loads of secret passages, though I didn’t see the point of hooking up traps to a pipe organ. Maybe for the atmosphere? Checking my saddlebags one last time, I knocked on the door. It swung open, and I was met with the traditional Royal Guard greeting, an impassive stare and a monotone “State your name and business.” I tilted my head, trying to look around him to spot Shining Armor. “Shouldn’t you guys be on the outside?” “State your name and business.” My hooves tingled, though the guard’s horn wasn’t glowing. “I understand this is what you’re supposed to do to everybody, but it’s so annoying. I’m Sterling Gears. I’m here to discuss thaumite with Shining Armor.” A voice I recognized as Shining Armor’s called out from somewhere in the room, “She’s who she says she is—well, she’s not a changeling at least. Let her through.” The tingly hooves must have been from a scan he’d snuck in while I was occupied with the guard. “It’s kinda rude to scan somebody without their permission. Invasion of privacy and all that jazz.” The guards didn’t glance at me again as I walked past them. No furniture decorated the room except for a folding table with a few papers, one of which was a blueprint I couldn’t make out from where I was standing. The beige walls and hardwood floor were dull and bare, and it reminded me of a house whose owner had moved out. “You’re carrying around several dozen kilos of a restricted material and look radically different than when I saw you a few hours ago. I was informed about the situation with your license, but I would have been suspicious even if you had it.” “Suspect that someone is posing as me if they’re still gussied up.” With how badly Chrysalis had impersonated Cadence—and went unnoticed because bridezillas are common in Equestria apparently—I wouldn’t have been surprised if my imposter pretended to be a damsel in distress. “Better safe than sorry.” “Don’t worry, I understand. Fool me once…” Shining cleared his throat. “Yes, well, maybe we should get down to business. First things first, I need you to look over these schematics for the spell pattern you designed.” It took less than a second to recognize the plans for blasting rods. “It looks fine to me. Is there something wrong with it?” “The thaumite shorts out during construction. We have yet to produce a working model.” Nodding my head towards my saddlebags, I said, “I could whip one up if you give me a couple minutes.” “That should be fine. I’ll admit I’ve been curious to see you work with thaumite ever since Twilight mentioned a non-unicorn shaping it.” I didn’t look up as I snipped off a length of thaumite and started sculpting it. “I really don’t get what’s so special about it.” My guess was that it had something to do with special talents or some other hokey Equestrian thing. Most of the new stuff was wondrous at first, but once I’d gotten used to it, some of the things that happened were just odd. I still avoided musical numbers like the plague. “The discharge of magical energy running up your legs should be making you spasm, for starters.” “It’ll still do that if I get a really big jolt.” For each thing magic had in common with electricity, there were several things that would make an electrician lock themselves behind a steel door while repeating Ohm’s Law like a mantra. Magic was much more forgiving to work with than electricity—I’d yet to injure myself with just the current, but I wasn’t going to test if a significant amount could cause permanent damage. Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed as he jotted down a couple notes on the blueprint. “For as much trouble as you claimed to have with your hooves, you’re rather deft.” I chuckled as I reached the halfway mark. “I’ve made several dozen of these. This was the first day I wore a dress. Not that hard to believe.” “I find it hard to believe you’ve never worn a dress before today.” “You don’t know me very well then.” I gave him a shrug and put the finishing touches on the blasting rod. It wasn’t my best work, but we didn’t have all night. “It’s done. Here.” “That was quick.” “I said I only needed a couple minutes.” Shining looked took the blasting rod from me and looked it over. He pointed to one end of it and said, “I just touch these two parts to each other, right?” “Yep. Just don’t point the other end at your face.” He laughed. “Why would I do that?” “It was how I figured out how it worked.” The first blasting rod in the history of Equestria had shot its creator in the face. Scientific progress either went “Boink!” or made a sound like a pony getting thrown into a bookshelf. “Oh, I haven’t quite figured out how to limit the energy used, so it uses the entire thing in one shot.” Shining winced. “And it hit you in the face?” It was probably a good thing I didn’t plan on telling him I’d shot his sister with a really big one. Sure, she’d told me to do it, but overprotective brothers weren’t known for their logic. Also, I didn’t think he’d appreciate just how great a shot it had been. “And launched me across the room. Good times.” I knew pegasi that spent less time in the air than I did. Pegasi other than Fluttershy. “If you’re not careful, the burnt out thaumite will get launched into your face too.” He set down the blasting rod quickly but gently, like he was afraid of it blowing up the room if the slightest thing was bent out of place. “I don’t think the current design is suitable for widespread use.” “Suit yourself. If I can get my hooves on the plans for magic-limiting spells or rings, I can probably work to lower the output. You guys have those, right?” “Yes, but their creation process is a closely guarded secret.” “Fine, I’ll make my own.” Shining must have been warming up to me, because he rolled his eyes instead of glaring. Maybe he didn’t think I’d been serious. I jumped a little as I glimpsed one of the guards out of the corner of my eye. I'd completely forgotten they were there. “Did you figure out everything you needed to?” “I have a good idea of where things went wrong. We should be able to figure it out from here.” “Why are you asking me anyway? I thought you weren’t Captain of the Royal Guard anymore.” “I’m not, though I do remain in close contact with the current Captain.” “Works for me. So, shield spells. What do?” It was his turn to scratch my back. Or would that have just been a backrub when hooves were involved? “I don’t know one for temperature exactly, and I won’t share the anti-changeling shield for reasons that should be very obvious, but I can tell you just about everything else.” “You mean you don’t use something like that to keep the Crystal Empire warm?” “Of course not. The love of the crystal ponies channelled through the Crystal Heart keeps out the cold.” It wouldn’t have felt right if it had been that easy anyway. “That is cheesier than a dime-store romance novel.” About cheddar. The thought of mushy one-liners milked for all they were worth made my stomach curdle. He shrugged. “Whether you think it’s cheesy or not, it works.” I thought for a moment. “Can you keep out different things with different shields? If I can find the difference and then find a way to substitute cold with whatever changes, it might do what I need it to. Actually, I might need two shields—one to keep the cold out and one to keep our heat in.” Whatever lay over the Crystal Mountains wasn’t just a simple absence of heat, and they wouldn’t be able to load up on mylar and drink cocoa. It was his turn to think. Eventually, he said, “The matrices for the shields that protect against projectiles and impacts should be similar enough for what you want to do. The books I brought should have them too, just give me a moment to find them.” “Is there any chance the book will just tell me what I want to know? One of the spells had to have come out second, and whoever created it would have figured that out already.” “Good idea, but is it going to be that easy for you to translate it into a spell pattern?” “Oh, right. I guess I’ll have to craft them after all.” Shining levitated one of the books to me and opened it. “Here’s the one for impacts. You’ll see this one just as much as the other, but they’re not exactly common in everyday life.” “Why can’t you just use the same spell for both?” “They’ll both block physical objects, but the impact shield is terrible at stopping projectiles, and the projectile shield is the opposite. There is an all-purpose shield, but it’s very energy intensive and above most unicorn’s skill levels.” I took the book from him and looked over the matrix. A lot of it would be easy to copy into thaumite, but there were some parts that looked like Escher had drawn them while on acid. “I can get this done in an hour, less if things go well.” He nodded. “Feel free to ask if you have any questions. Do you mind if I watch?” “Go ahead. I didn’t expect you to stare at the wall while I worked, though I don’t know if I’d be too much more interesting.” I shrugged, pulled down my goggles, and started estimating how much thaumite I’d need. If I started shaping it while it was still attached to the roll, I risked shorting out all of it, and that was a good way to end up with smoldering thaumite embedded in my flank. Maybe Shining Armor was only watching to see if I blew myself up. Designing the spell pattern was easier than the one for the stun spell, but it had several more spots that I had to be cautious of. I often had to recheck the matrix to make sure I’d read it correctly. The room’s other occupants jumped as an extra loud spark arced between the thaumite and my muzzle, though for a moment, it felt like it had gone up my nose. “Should I get the medical kit?” I tried to tell him I was fine but quickly realized my face was too numb to speak anything resembling a language. Shining scratched his head. “Was that a yes?” With a shake of my head, I got back to work. I’d already anesthetized myself on accident once or twice, and it had never lasted longer than a few minutes, so I was more annoyed than worried. On the plus side, I still had feeling in my forelegs. I couldn’t tell if my mouth was hanging open, but it wasn’t like I had to stop working on the spell pattern. The feeling in my mouth returned over several minutes, and the numbness was all but gone by the time I said, “I should be done in less than a minute. I have no idea what will happen, so you might want to pay attention in case I light myself on fire.” Luck went both ways. With a critical eye, Shining looked over the spell pattern. “Are you sure you’re almost done? That doesn’t look much like the matrix.” To most ponies, it would have looked like a pointlessly twisted mess. To me, it looked like a purposely twisted mess. Twilight would have been able to make sense of it too, but she was a grade-curve-wrecking freak of nature. If it behaved like the spell I’d copied, the shield would be a couple meters in diameter, plenty of space for me to avoid losing anything caught in the same space as the shield itself. There were failsafes, but putting too much faith in those was a good way to get dismembered. After one final glance, I nodded. “Trust me, this is about as close as I can get without wasting all night.” Any adjustments that would have made it a more exact copy wouldn’t have done much either. Shining bit his lip. “Is there actually a chance of you lighting yourself on fire?” “I really doubt it. If it fails, it’ll probably just explode. If that happens, you’ll want to shield yourself anyway—even though most of the thaumite burns out, there’s still a surprising amount of shrapnel.” An orange bubble appeared around Shining Armor, and he looked to one of the guards at the door. “Dismiss your shield. I will handle it.” The orange was quickly replaced by pink, and he turned back to me. “Go ahead.” I was extra cautious as I went through the last few steps—I would have looked really incompetent if I’d made a mistake after telling them I was about done. “Just gotta twist these two together and…“ I grinned as a transparent, white-tinted bubble appeared around me. “Tadaa.” Shining dropped his shield to get a closer look at mine. “Not bad. This would hold up fairly well, but I don’t think it’d last as long under a constant assault.” The spell pattern gently glowed, its light barely noticeable in the well-lit room. If I’d read correctly, the shield used up very little energy—less than the spell used for those little light-balls, and the spell pattern for that one lasted months with good-quality thaumite—when it wasn’t being stressed. However, I needed to compare this spell pattern to the other one, so I couldn’t throw stuff at it until it burned out. “Any ideas for toughening it up? The cold won’t come in waves, and the shield will need to last for a while.” I looked at the shield again and laughed nervously. “So, air can get through this, right? I really should have asked before learning how to turn it off.” “You won’t suffocate. Can you turn it off without cutting mana to it like a unicorn would?” “I’m sure I can figure it out.” Undoing the final step was the most obvious solution, but a huge jolt of energy insisted I find another way. “Are you alright? That was much larger than last time.” “I’m fine.” Wisps of smoke curled off my hoof, though it looked and felt undamaged except for a small ache. Well, if the thaumite wanted to play rough, I wasn’t going to back down. I gingerly bent some of the spell pattern, and my eyes widened as the space between the shield and I shrank drastically. “Okay, I’m sorry!” Luckily, it returned to normal size when I put it back to normal. Shining chuckled and stuck a leg through the shield, invading my personal bubble. “You would have been fine.” For a moment, I’d thought I’d invented a way to compact the trash—a little bit of worry was completely reasonable. I tweaked the piece in the opposite direction and smiled as the shield expanded and Shining took a step back. One of the guards glared a little harder, but it was worth it. “You would have been fine.” The shield did all sorts of things as I tried to figure out how to shut it off. One such adjustment increased the opacity, and I spent a few minutes playing with it until one of the guards cleared his throat. I made note of what changed the shield’s shape, as fitting it to the airship more closely would lower the amount of magic used. Just as I was running out of spell pattern to fiddle with, the bubble winked out with a popping sound that made me chuckle. Once I’d made sure I could turn it back on, I said, “Figuring everything out took a bit longer than I thought it would. How much more time do we have?” “We should have a little time left. It’s getting quite late, but not so late that I have to leave. There may not be time for you to complete the other spell pattern, but I can still share a few things I’ve picked up over the years.” I’d already cut more thaumite off the roll by the time he’d finished talking. “I can listen while I work, and a lot of this is the same as on the other shield.” Enough of the pattern felt familiar that most of it was a breeze, and the few differences were much easier to sculpt. Shining Armor had a few useful tidbits of advice, but the vast majority of it was useless to me, as I didn’t have a glowstick jutting out of my forehead. He cut himself off with a grumble every time he realized I didn’t need to know about proper posture or breathing exercises. I finished the spell pattern midway through Shining’s tips on energy management—it would take some effort, creativity, and a bit of good fortune to make any of them work with thaumite though. “I didn’t think the spell pattern would differ from the other one that much,” he said as he prodded the bubble, and I watched as a small area around his hoof lit up at his touch. Even though its function differed, the impact shield looked identical to the projectile shield. I shrugged. “The patterns differ just as much as the matrices. You’re just not used to working with them.” I could tell the spell patterns apart, but if a pony was casting the shield, I would have needed to poke it to find out which was which. “And you can turn this one off the same way?” “Yep,” I said, switching the shield off. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to copy both spells tonight.” “I’m really just following the instructions—they just take a bit of effort to read.” “Still, I thought it would take another meeting or two to get this far. Do you still need these books?” He gestured at the small pile. “Can I borrow them or at least get the titles so I can find a copy elsewhere? There’s a lot of other stuff in there I’m sure I could find a use for.” Oddly enough, I hadn’t been able to find much on shields in Twilight’s library, so it was unlikely the books would be available there. “Feel free. When you’re done, either mail them back or ask Twilight to get them back to me. That reminds me, there is something I wanted to discuss with you before we part ways.” Shining looked to the guards and nodded towards the door. “Privately.” I shifted uneasily as the two guards filed out of the room. Alarm bells were going off in my head, and I found myself wondering what he wanted. The spell patterns were within reach, but, I couldn’t rely on them without knowing just how much damage they could take—they would still hold up for a bit, but if he really wanted to cause me harm, overloading the thaumite would have been easy, especially with his knowledge of shields. “Relax, I just want to talk.” I could almost believe he’d meant it. “That does very little to make me feel better.” “Well, I doubt either of us will enjoy the conversation very much, but there is something I absolutely need to know. What are your intentions towards my sister?” The alarm bells stopped abruptly and confusedly asked each other what was going on. Meanwhile, I was laughing so hard that my sides were starting to hurt. How had he even come up with that idea? I’d expressed zero romantic interest in Twilight, and she’d shown just as much towards me. Honestly, couldn’t two friends regularly discuss things in private without being shipped? Sure, we’d usually met in the evening at either my home or hers, and we’d always tried to keep things fairly secret and not tell anybody else what we’d been doing—and it suddenly made complete sense that Shining Armor suspected I’d been riding the purple pony. Still, I did not appreciate the accusation. “You caught me. I’m banging your sister.” The walls trembled as he shouted, “What?” “Relax, I was kidding. Probably went a little too far though.” “You think?” “You’re the one who’s tossing accusations without actually finding out what’s going on.” “What do you think I’m doing right now? Making small talk?” Rubbing my temple, I sighed. “I have not engaged in sexual intercourse with the pony known as Twilight Sparkle, and I do not intend to. Is that clear enough?” “So now she’s not good enough for you?” What was this, a romcom? “No, I’m not playing that game. Save it for when you catch her snogging somebody in a broom closet. We’re friends. That’s it. Even though I doubt you’ll believe me when I say it, I am not trying to pull a fast one on you.” I stamped my hoof and glared at him. “Ask Twilight herself. If you’re as good a brother as you think you are, you know how terrible she is at hiding things.” He started talking, but I continued right over him—I wasn’t done. “Ask your wife. She’s good at that love thing, right? Hell, ask any of Equestria’s princesses. There’s no way you don’t have clearance to know what me and Twilight do.” “I am only trying to protect her! You know full well that if I failed to keep my sister safe, I’d be a terrible brother.” It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, it took everything I had not to punch him. At that moment, there was nothing else I would have wanted more, but charging headfirst into a fight hadn’t worked out so well last time—oh, and it was wrong or something like that. “Go fuck yourself with a rake, Shining Armor.” He blinked in confusion. Apparently, nobody had ever told him to pleasure himself with lawn-care tools. It wasn’t that great of an insult, but it was still miles beyond the dreck ponies usually slung at each other. He sighed as he watched me pack my bags and balance the spell patterns on my back. “This has gotten out of hoof. I’m sorry for—” “I don’t want to hear it. Goodbye.” The door slammed against the wall as I yanked it open and stormed down the hall, paying no mind to the guards that were no doubt staring after me. He had no right implying that I’d been a terrible brother, and he’d had even less of a right bringing up Anne like he had. Maybe I should have punched him—I’d have been completely justified. The memories were riddled with holes, like a painting used for target practice, but they were still worth holding onto. I didn’t need to be reminded, as my thoughts had a habit of wandering in that direction whenever I wasn’t focused on something else. Barging into a room that was hopefully mine, I dumped everything into a pile and made for the bathroom, where I splashed some water onto my face—hooves held a surprising amount of water. Taking a painkiller sounded like a fantastic idea even though they were for my leg, which was mostly behaving. Well, they were actually for pain, hence their name, so maybe I could take one. No, I really didn’t need one, and running out at an inconvenient time would be worse. Then again, I could just skip it next time I felt like taking one. I just had to get my mind off of it and think about something else. Playing with thaumite could work, and the roll was sitting patiently in my saddlebags. The bottle of painkillers rattled as it hit the carpet. Had I really been so eager to get out of there that I’d shoved the roll of thaumite into the wrong bag? I hesitated before stowing the pills and getting to work. Yep, good ol’ thaumite, keeping my attention on something productive. After the thaumite exploded a second time, it looked like a break was a necessity if I wanted to get anything done, but I didn’t want to cave and take a painkiller. The doctors hadn’t mentioned anything about addictiveness, so I wasn’t too worried, but I didn’t need to take a break to function. They’d also said there was a chance the pain would bother me for the rest of my life, and if that happened, there was a lot more medication in my future. Maybe taking a break really was the thing to steady my nerves, and that’s what I really needed. Alcohol was good for steadying nerves too, right? I didn’t need to get drunk, just calm things enough that I stopped launching spent thaumite around the room. It would also get my mind off the painkillers, as I knew better than mixing the two—give me some credit here. There had to be a minibar somewhere in the room. Every spot I searched was a disappointment. I found nothing other than a note from Pinkie that said “Springing Spike. Keep Twilight busy. Destroy this note.” After tearing it apart and flushing it, I checked every spot again. Heck, I even checked for false bottoms in drawers and false panels elsewhere. On the plus side, the room was very clean—the maids were very thorough. The distinct flash and popping sound of teleportation barely made me look up. “Hey, Twilight, how about that privacy?” “I’m sorry, I just—Shining told me about earlier and—” Just hearing his name made me grit my teeth. “Your brother’s a cunt.” She gasped. “Sterling! That is completely uncalled for!” “Unless he lied about what happened, that was pretty light.” Sometimes, I felt bad for teaching Twilight all sorts of new words. Everybody else in Ponyville just thought I was making words up. Twilight sighed. “I don’t want to talk to your hindquarters. Will you please come out here? What are you doing anyway?” Despite not being under anything, I managed to hit my head as I stood. “Looking for the minibar.” “In the bathroom?” Rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head, I hobbled out of the bathroom. “I already looked everywhere else.” “You’re not going to find anything. Why would there be a minibar in any of the guest rooms?” “Because Canterlot sucks enough that most visitors need a drink. Give me a boost so I can look on top of the bed’s canopy.” “Even if there was a minibar, the chance that it’s up there is practically zero. Please, listen to yourself for a moment.” “I really don’t want to. That’s why I’m looking for booze. Or I was, anyway.” Twilight sighed and sat on a cushion. “Shining Armor didn’t know. Gears, I am unsure why he didn’t know, and he was earnestly confused as to why you reacted so negatively. I penned the letter myself, but he never received it.” How could she believe that? “He’s lying.” There were other cushions, but lying on the bed was far more comfortable. “Please, trust me. He was mortified when I told him.” That took a lot of the wind out of my sails. I’d asked her to trust me plenty of times. “Then why didn’t he come tell me himself?” “Because I asked him to wait until tomorrow. Also, he didn’t know which room you were staying in. I wanted to talk to you first, and you needed time to cool down.” Twilight had a point—I probably would have slugged him if he’d knocked. “As soon as I was certain he was headed back to his room, I teleported here to make sure you were alright.” “I’m fine. A little ticked but otherwise fine.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “I just think it’s silly that he thought the two of us were knocking hooves.” It had nothing to do with ponies being an entirely different species, though it was going to be incredibly awkward for me the first time around. It was still too easy to get Twilight blushing. “Yes, well, you and I both know that’s not what you were actually upset about. Do you want to talk about it?” The corners of my mouth tugged down. “Not really.” Twilight grumbled into her hoof, “I don’t know why I even asked. You really should talk to me about it though. You rarely talk about anything that happened… before.” “There’s not much to talk about that I didn’t mention to Celestia the first time I visited Canterlot.” Granted, spending a few months in Equestria had given me time to reflect on just how dissimilar to Earth it really was—for every thing that felt familiar, something else was alien enough to remind me that I wasn’t on the world I’d grown up in. “Do you miss it?” she asked, moving from her cushion and lying next to me. “Twilight, I missed it before I even came to Equestria.” “Tell me about what you miss then. You’ll feel better.” If I hadn’t known Twilight so well, I would have assumed she was just pumping me for information. The information was still something she wanted, but at that moment, it was second to my well-being. She’d given out plenty of her secrets during our meetings, and I’d intended to talk about mine eventually—I’d just never gotten around to it. I sighed and quietly asked, “Where do you want me to start?” There was no rush for paper and quills, just a “hmm” as she thought. “Did you have any pets? “I had fish.” I’d owned a guinea pig when I was a kid, but he’d somehow gotten outside and hidden underneath the lawnmower. “How many?” “Ten-ish? I never really counted.” All I had to do was feed them. Zero bonding. “Sorry, but you don’t seem like the type to have fish for pets.” “Oh, they weren’t mine. A friend of mine left them with me while he went out on vacation.” He’d only picked me because nobody else was available. We’d gotten the aquarium into my apartment without any casualties, which had to be the result of black magic, since fish were easier to kill than a child’s sense of wonder. “He never came back for them.” “Why would he just abandon his pets like that?” “Nah, he slipped off a balcony. Fell sixteen stories and didn’t bounce.” Twilight gasped, covering her muzzle with her hooves. “I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. He was kind of an asshole.” Owed me five bucks and a pair of pants too. “But I did keep any of the fish from dying until I got stuck in that hospital.” “It sounds like you took good care of them. What were their names?” “Uh, Green-and-Orange Fish One, Green-and-Orange Fish Two, Stupid Fish that Runs into the Side of the Tank…” It wasn’t like they’d been wearing nametags—it would have been difficult to read stickers that small anyway. “Alright, I get it.” “The algae eater probably lasted longer than the rest of them, but I never had the chance to check. By the time I worked my way home, the apartment building was a pile of ashes. That’s why I’m glad my current house is made mostly out of rocks. Should be quite a bit harder to burn down.” Twilight narrowed her eyes but remained silent. After a few seconds, she arched a brow. Honestly, I’d already said it earlier—how often did she think I’d remind her? “I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your home. It must have been hard on you.” “It didn’t make me happy, but it wasn’t like I fell to my knees and cried. That would have made a lot of noise, and I’d just ditched a huge crowd of zombies. Keep in mind this was before I had access to any of the good stuff.” “Stealth seems like it would be the best option in that situation.” “Yeah, but plan B was more cathartic if more difficult to supply, though I have to wonder how much of it was what I’d learned on my own and how much was Grue trying to ensure that I survived long enough.” I wondered if it’d had an actual name, but quickly realized it was probably something unpronounceable by anything with three-dimensional vocal cords. I also realized I really didn’t care. “Plan C involved running away until A or B was possible.” “I still think Equus could benefit from anything you provide, even if the benefit wasn’t immediately apparent.” “Most of what I’ve learned is pretty much useless in Equestria. There’s no infrastructure for most of the materials, and the more delicate electronics would probably malfunction because of the slight differences in this universe’s physics. Not to mention it’d be silly if I memorized random schematics, and I can’t just regurgitate Wikipedia quotes to make myself look smarter. The nitroglycerin was one of the few things I’m certain is from my early chem classes. It was a stroke of luck that I kept that information.” “We still have to try. That can wait until later though. We got a little off topic. What else do you miss?” “Eating a bowl of breakfast cereal while watching cartoons before I headed off to work or class.” If I’d been watching the news instead, I probably would have known better than going to the hospital. “Internet, fingers, Saran Wrap, popping bubble wrap, internet, omnivorism, living in a heliocentric solar system, internet… my family.” Twilight didn’t say anything, but she nodded and motioned for me to go on, the same small smile still on her muzzle. “My mom and dad died before the zombies came. Plane crash, if you’re curious. Heh, my mom hated flying—always said that she couldn’t trust anything that big moving so quickly. She was allergic to horses. And dogs, cats, and rabbits. I don’t know if Equestrian ponies fall under that category when it comes to allergies, but it’s not like she’d have the same allergies if she got a new body by coming here. And can you start talking now, since I’m starting to ramble?” “You’re doing fine, Gears. Just keep going.” Twilight listened to my rambling for a few hours, adding a few comments of her own here and there, but she was mostly content to let me spew anything that came to mind. To be honest, I didn’t mind talking as much as I’d thought I would have, even when talking about my family led to discussing Anne. If Twilight hadn’t kept me talking, there was a good chance I would have broken down, trapped in my own thoughts like an innertuber who’d gotten too close to Charybdis. My reaction to Shining Armor’s comment still felt justified, but after Twilight and I had been talking for a while, I wanted to apologize. Sure, he had it coming with the whole “protective brother” schtick, but I’d only lashed out because it had sounded like a personal attack. It wasn’t hard to see where his suspicions had come from—Twilight and I lay right next to each other, our eyelids sagging from a long day, and we’d fallen asleep like that a few times before. The lights were still on, but that was something both of us coped with for the ease of mind it brought, as fewer dancing shadows meant fewer flickering apparitions. Once she’d dozed off, I slipped off my prosthetic as quietly as I could. I couldn’t sleep in the thing, but it was even more uncomfortable to see that pained look in Twilight’s eye whenever she was reminded of it. Sighing, I made myself comfortable and closed my eyes. Sunrise wasn’t too far away, but there was still a little time left to sleep. Hopefully, we weren’t teleporting home directly after brunch—such a waste of food. Too much drama happened in Canterlot for my tastes, and I would gladly take whatever bizarre thing happened around Ponyville. That place had to be a Hellmouth. “Thanks, Twilight,” I muttered. Sleep came a bit easier that night.