//------------------------------// // Chapter Nine: Where Twilight Gets Mad, Then Goes Mad // Story: The Demesne of the Reluctant Twilight Sparkle // by MrNumbers //------------------------------// I storm toward the castle. Even if I hadn't been there literally countless times before – though a rough estimate would be two multiplied by days since accepted as Celestia' protege, subtract the amount of days in Ponyville with a margin of error calculated by I do maths when I'm stressed, okay? – it would be remarkably easy to find. Just follow the mountain, the spires, the overwhelming beauty. I do my best to remain whelmed, focusing on my anger. I have an awful lot of it. Golden. Golden. Golden! … Oh, Golden. Golden Retriever had, matter of factly and with no malice, rejected me. Oh, she was just the start of it, too. Or, rather, the end to a long list of grievances. Equestria on the precipice of civil war, peering over the edge, all over an ill-thought gift with my name attached. Lives are in peril. My friends are legally my possessions and, whilst ponies like myself and Fancy Pants are level-headed about it, others with more ambition, less empathy, or just plain boredom would be... less empathetic. And whose fault is it? Luna's. Who had started this whole cascade reaction? Luna. Who had somehow thought that I could even remotely appreciate being given an entire town, like a trophy, with no consideration of its citizens? Luna. Luna. Luna. Luna! … Luna. Day court had long since stopped, and the Night court was still a few hours away. The castle is off limits to the public, but I am not in the mood to wait, and I need to get to the Princess of the Night before she has a crowd around her. This isn’t the kind of gossip I need spread around. So, I do the only logical, rational, totally-situationally-appropriate thing to do. I storm up to the gate and give a contingent of guards a threatening look. This is not the first time I’ve stormed the castle looking like one of the four Ponies of the Apocalypse. Probably War. The guards – at least two dozen of them – glare at me, weapons raised, wings firm, horns ablaze. I glare right back at them. Shining Armour isn't here to talk them down for me this time, but I’m not worried. These ponies know me – some of them have since I was a foal. Which means they know I could totally take them all on if I was in the mood to, and brother am I in the mood. Come on, just try something, I dare ya. It'll be cathartic. I bet half of you don't know what 'catharsis' means. Well, I've been told I'm a fantastic teacher. Their sergeant, quite sensibly, sticks his hoof under his neighbour’s spear, pressing up on its shaft, raising it back into its vertical resting position. The soldier stares at him incredulously. “It's Princess Twilight Sparkle. Notice the wings and horn?” He bellows. All eyes are on him, looking stunned. He stares down at me nervously. “I don't think I can let you through without an appointment, though, Princess.” Horn glow. Pew. BANG. I re-appear right in his face, nose to nose with the sergeant. I can see the fire in my eyes reflected in his. He's a pale brown pegasus, and at this close range I can see how tired and bloodshot his eyes are. They're red and wide open, giving me a clear look at each individual blood-vessel. “That's Doctor Princess, Sergeant.” He gulps. Good. The soldier beside him, whose spear the sergeant had raised, darts his eyes back and forth between me, the sergeant, and directly ahead of him. The soldier on the other side of the sergeant points his spear at me, moving as if to jab me. My horn glows, though I never break eye contact with the sergeant. The spear that would so haplessly prod me fragments into its weight in toothpicks, the spearhead falling to the ground with a metallic clang on the cobblestones. I distribute the toothpicks evenly amongst the squad, feeling their eyes on me. To the particularly nervous ones, I offer a spiky balled up wad of them. There's plenty to go around. You can make an awful lot of toothpicks out of a spear. I smile. “Do I have your attention?” The sergeant nods. “At ease, lads. That's an order.” The tension in the air becomes one of helplessness, of impatience, of awaiting their fate at my hooves. The white-hot-searing-ball of anger burning in me gives a happy little twitch. This wasn't all just catharsis for me, though. Pointlessly taking out my anger on helpless, harmless soldiers wouldn't do me any good, or them any for that matter. And it would, frankly, be immoral. Fortunately, it wasn't for no reason. “I, Doctor Princess Twilight Sparkle, ruler of Ponyville, Bearer of the Element of Magic, conqueror and now reluctant friend of the mad isn't-really-but-would-like-us-all-to-think-of-him-as-a god Discord, and occasional human, request an audience with Princess Luna immediately. There are to be no interruptions, no eaves-droppers and no questions.” I pause. “Are there any questions, though? I mean, no questions later. I suppose you could ask questions now, if they're pertinent.” Pertinent is a good word. I hear one soldier call out – I was still in a staring match with Sergeant Sensible, so I don’t know who. “What's a human?” “Irrelevant,” I deadpan. No need to spread rumours that I occasionally choose to be an omnivore. Save that for Nightmare Night filly-gobbling jokes. “But you said-” “Private!” the sergeant bellowed, taking this as an excuse to break eye contact, “you heard the Pri– Doctor Princess.” Now he frowns thoughtfully and turns to me, seemingly against his better judgement. “Why not Princess Doctor?” I smile patiently. “I assure you, there is a long and rather satisfying explanation for that. The mare who phrased it best has just dumped me. Well, I say dumped, but really, it turns out I never had a chance with her anyway. This is the sort of thing I'm saying out loud to console myself, and that's the best I can come up with.” My smile cracks. Audibly. “I am in that sort of mood. Would you care to remind me of her again?” “Oh, er, sorry.” I raise my left eyebrow. It seems the sterner one. “Sorry, Doctor Princess,” he mumbles. The soldier whose spear I’d converted into dental products stared down at the spearhead lying on the ground, looking decidedly emasculated. “How did you do that?” Do what? I furrow my brow. Oh, his spear. Magic questions. That's alright then. I like magic questions. Brow unfurrows. “I just grabbed each individual bundle of cellulose and lignin in the wood and pulled on them simultaneously. Not as hard as pulling every apple off of every tree in an orchard all at once, I assure you.” “So you could do that to, say, a pony then, if you wanted to?” I think about it. “Well,” I muse, welcoming the distraction, “I suppose. Ponies are just composed of a rich lattice of cells. It would simply be a matter of pulling those all apart at once, though I'm pretty sure that would just liquify the pony when all the cell walls burst, which begs the question of why I'd want to do that in the first place. Just because I can liquify a pony doesn't mean I – you seem to have gone dreadfully green all of a sudden, which is a shame, because you're the first pony to ask a question right now that didn't annoy me.” The stallion stared at the spearhead on the ground, trembling slightly with tinges of green in his cheeks, and I was left wondering why. Was it something I said? It must have been. What did I say? Oh. Well, I did describe how I'd liquify a pony by tearing apart all of their cells simultaneously from each other, but I also said I wouldn't do it. So, really, that couldn't be it. I massage the bridge of my nose with a hoof. I'll puzzle this out later. “If that's all, I'd really like to speak to Princess Luna now?” Yes, that question mark is out of place, since that's technically a statement, but it's to denote the questioning tone of voice I used to say it. My internal grammar is incredibly important to me, as it should be to you. The sergeant screams out orders and, in a flurry of military professionalism, enough of the stallions regain enough of their composure to throw themselves into motion. About a dozen of the guards scurry around me. The big double doors behind them open, and we storm together down familiar halls. It's kind of, as Dash would say, pretty cool to have a dozen guards escort you. Wildly impractical to do this around Ponyville, so I appreciate it whilst it lasts. Sergeant Sensible – the name seems to have stuck in my mind – by my side as we head our way into the castle, with six ponies in front, five ponies behind. It's probably rude that I'm mentally calling him Sergeant Sensible. Particularly since I've been so insistent about my own titles. “Actually, I do have a question of my own in mind, Sergeant... what is your name?” “I am Sergeant Commonsense, Doctor Princess.” His answer is somewhat gruff. I have a feeling I've wounded his ego somewhat. Still... So close. Commonsense is close to sensible, but it doesn't have that S.S...ness to it. It lacks the alliterative allure of proper pony pronunciation practices. Then again, that means that for a long time he would have been Corporal Commonsense. One day, he might even be Captain Commonsense. There was hope for alliteration yet! “Prin- Doctor Princess? Your smile is... unnerving, to say the least. I'm certain it's an improvement over your previous... Permission to speak freely, Doctor Princess?” “Always and of course, Sergeant. You should never have to ask me for that right. You've more than earned it.” He straightens up considerably. A hint of something that might be surprise darts around the corners of his eyes, as he sizes me up again. “Scary. Your previous, downright terrifying mood. Unfortunately, after seeing that, your smile just makes it worse, ma'am. I think I'd rather be stationed in Cloudsdale than risk facing you.” “Cloudsdale? But you're a unicorn! Wouldn't you just... fall through?” “That's rather my point, Doctor Princess,” he admits. Hrmm. He's right. Not just about the unicorn thing – that speaks for itself – but rather about my mood. A few moments ago I was furious. I was glowing with potentially productive rage. What happened? I need to be angry. I need to be furious, otherwise I'm never going to have the nerve to face down Princess Luna. I know instinctively that cooler heads should prevail. Thinking everything through is my creed, my mantra, my raison d'etre. That was my point in being mad, though. I need to be strategically furious to do this. The thing about truly cool heads is that they're utter cowards. I don't mean that in a bad way, though. The clever thing to do is usually to avoid confrontation. To compromise. But you can't compromise on, say, having only half a civil war. There's no way to compromise on half of slavery. Celestia had tried to take that approach, in her way. I certainly can't back out of this now. Not after rousing the guards. I need to have a certain degree of unrelenting wrath right now to convert into the raw courage to face Luna, the will to make her see my point, and the passion to make her do something about the trouble she has inadvertently caused. It's just hard for me to cultivate that kind of needed anger for prolonged periods of time. I'm prone to thinking it through, and thought and consideration are toxic to prolonged bouts of ire. The opposite of being angry is literally called being reasonable, and reason is everything that makes me me. So here I am, faced with a golden opportunity and- Oh. Golden opportunity. There's that wellspring again. Cold fury wells up from the tips of my hooves to the points of my ears. I hear a pony whispering behind me. “Well, at least she isn't smiling anymore.” Yes. More fuel to the fire. Excellent. “I think she can hear us, Anvil.” “You think she heard that?” I look back at the pair, still walking at the brisk-and-determined pace I'd set for the guard. The two stare back at me. I smile, slow and wide. Oh, and with teeth. They gulp. The white pegasus pony apparently named Anvil leans closer to his friend in a manner he thinks is surreptitious, “I think she heard it, Hammer.” Hammer was also a white, but minus the wings. The guard seems to have a lot of white ponies. “Why did you use my name? Now she knows!” The whispering was becoming less and less of a whisper at this point. I roll my eyes and look back at Sergeant Commonsense. He appears apologetic. The stage-whispering behind me has gotten more heated, and far less whispery. “Do you think she needed to know your name to melt you? Besides, you already said mine. It's only fair.” Hammer appears to be a pegasus and Anvil an earth pony, but they are otherwise identical. I've worked out how to tell them apart, though: Hammer has green eyes, Anvil has blue. Anvil's voice is higher pitched and a little scratchy, like a masculine Rainbow Dash's, whilst Hammer's voice is deep and firm. Anvil again. “I think she's sizing us up.” “I know.” The three guards around the pair take a step away from them, managing to do so without breaking their march's synchronicity. “We're screwed aren't we?” “I know.” “Do you know how much a pony splashes when they liquify?” “I don't know.” I furrow my brow in annoyance. “I already said I didn't want to do that.” “She can still hear us!” “We didn't exactly get quieter!” “We're probably making her so mad right now.” “I know. Really. Stop making it worse!” “I don't know how! Every time I try to be quiet I end up saying something stupid!” “Try saying something stupid then,” Hammer scowls sarcastically, “Maybe it'll come out as silence.” “Oh. Err... If she is a princess, how come she's so short?” My ear flicks, not of my own volition. “Anvil.” “And what's she the princess of anyway. Celestia's the sun, Luna's the moon, Cadance has love... Is she a princess of books, now?” “Anvil.” “Do we even really need a princess of books? Why did a librarian, of all ponies, get wings? And, for that matter-” “Anvil!” Hammer drops all pretense of whispering. “I'm sorry! It turns out trying to say something stupid makes me say something stupid and so I got nervous, and when I get nervous I tend to ramble but then I started rambling about the stupid things I was saying which made me more nervous because she's right there and she can totally hear me and now she's going to make me... Gak!” “Gak?” I ask innocently enough, pointedly not looking at them. The Sergeant beside me sighs wearily. “I believe it's the sound a pony makes when they are liquified, Doctor Princess.” “The thing I assured them I didn't want to do,” I state plainly. “Fortunately for them, yes, though for the life of me I can’t see why not at this point.” “So, unfortunately for them, they proceeded to do their literal best to change my mind on the matter.” “It would seem so, Doctor Princess.” I appear to have the rest of the guard's undivided attention, though most of them pretend not to be listening. A quick look back over my shoulder reveals that Hammer and Anvil look like two ponies being led to the gallows. If the gallows were also made of fire and pointy metal bits. “That doesn't seem like the well-honed survival instincts of a trained guardspony, does it?” “Most certainly not, Doctor Princess.” “You're just using that title in the hopes that it placates me enough not to do something horrible to them, aren't you, Sergeant?” “And I don't particularly know why I'm bothering, Doctor Princess, because I'm fairly certain I am planning the same thing.” “I appreciate your honesty, Sergeant. Fortunately for them, we appear to have arrived at what I believe is Luna's bedchamber, correct? So there is no further time for them to make fools of themselves” “Correct, though I believe the Princess is still sleeping, Doctor Princess. It would be wise not to wake her.” Hammer clears his throat. It sounds like gravel being crunched under a hoof. “In my defense, most of it was Anvil.” I round on Hammer. “I'll have you know that I am not the Princess of Books; I'm fairly certain I am the Princess of Friendship, and friends do not sell their friends out, no matter how much their friends totally deserve it. I am more appalled by that act of... dibber-dobbering than any of the ramblings your friend has, well, rambled, and I'll have you know he was pretty appalling in his own right.” Hammer gulps again, loudly. “That being said, I would like to thank the pair of you. If it weren't for you, I would not have the nerve right now to do this.” And, with that, I create a crude hoof of force with my magic and slam it against the door three times, to be polite. Knocking is to this what a butter knife is to a chainsaw. But to not knock at all would simply be rude. The dozen guards unanimously stare at me in terror. “You just woke Princess Luna early.” “Oh, good. I would be dreadfully embarrassed if I had gotten the wrong Princess,” I deadpan, “and since Celestia's still up and about, somewhere, and Cadance is in the Crystal Kingdom, and I am right here, I suppose process of elimination dictates that it was, in fact, Princess Luna who I have woken up early, yes.” The Sergeant's eyes spark into new life. Possibly adrenaline. Possibly the glint of his life flashing before them. “Alright, those of you who were in front, clear the perimeters, I trust you to know the area enough to separate yourself and cover the most ground. Those of you who were behind, patrol the corridors, make sure nothing slips past the first line of defence. Privates Hammer and Anvil, you get door duty where I can keep a personal eye on you.” The two privates saluted as the rest scarpered off. The sergeant glares at them, then nods at me. “I’ll be back shortly. Very shortly.” He trots off, leaving me in command. They stare at me fearfully, one on each side of the double-wide archaic wooden door between me and Luna's bedroom. The doors open. I can see them bristle, like cats, backs arching and the hairs on their necks standing on end. It's my magic, of course, not a rage-stricken Luna's. All three of us surreptitiously peer into the room. It's certainly a sight. Well, I say a sight, what I really mean is it's a total lack of sight. The darkness in her room is thick and inky, almost tangible. It absorbs the sun-and-torch-light from the corridor and just... I'm not sure if it's eating it or somehow reflecting it. Is Luna's room like the dark side of the moon, or a black hole in nature? I briefly entertain the notion that it might eat me if I step hoof in it. I briefly entertain the notion it might eat me. I don't seem to understand the meaning of the word briefly. See, briefly means that I think about it momentarily, and then stop. I can't briefly entertain the notion if I'm still thinking it. So let's try this again. I briefly entertain the notion that- Alright, that's not working, new tactic time. I lock eyes with the soldier on the door's left. “Hammer, is it?” “Private Hammer, Princess, yes,” he replies somewhat timidly. “I'll forgive you for forgetting the 'Doctor' part if you forgive me for forgetting the 'Private' part, deal?” “Er...” “Excellent. Now, I need to borrow your spear, just to make sure this room isn't actually a hungry metaphysical maw.” “Err...?” “Thank you very much.” I smile sweetly, grabbing his spear with my telekinesis and poking the darkness with it. It's as I suspected; the spear seems to sink into the darkness. As soon as it passes the threshold it becomes almost invisible, in the sense that it lacks visibleness, with the exception of the light of my magic glowing faintly around its edges. I pull it back out and it seems to be fine. Alright, so it's more or less safe. My horn lights up, brighter, as I pass Private Hammer his spear back. “Thanks again.” And with that, I step into the room. It's dark, incredibly dark, and I suddenly have the irrational fear I'm going to bump my shin on something, or several somethings. The first thing I notice is just how cold it is in here. Ice crystals form in my face, ethereal mist visible only by the glow of my horn, purple light catching its edges, floating through the space in front of me like a distant nebula, yet close enough to touch. The next thing I notice is that my hooves on the floor feel like a duller stone, more granite than marble, a dusty white stone that reflects back at me what little light from my horn makes its way down to it. It must be as white as good blotting paper when it's not tinted purple by my magic. A few more steps and I notice something else: I can barely hear my own hoofsteps. Especially strange on stone, I hear them more as impacts through my body than as vibrations through the air. Silence. Darkness. Cold, white stone. Is it...? It is. It must be. Luna's bedroom is modeled after the dark side of the moon after all! At least whilst she sleeps. It certainly explains why the changeling invasion didn't wake her up. Sound doesn’t travel in a vacuum. I fumble with my magic around the doorway behind me, searching for a lightswitch. I finally make purchase and, with a satisfied-sounding little 'click', the lights come on. The fact that I heard it click at all seems to indicate that it turned the magical mute button off, too. All this has made me slightly less angry, but the whole ordeal was creepy and scary so it's made up for that with a huge adrenaline rush. Fight or flight response, and the 'fight' outlet is currently... snoring rather bone-rattlingly loud and curled up to what looks like an otherwise-impossible degree of comfort on a cozy-looking, intricately-carved redwood four-poster bed. Princess sized, of course. She looks so peaceful, and the snoring is kind of adorable in its own way. It makes it really hard to stay mad at her, but I'm honestly doing my best to cultivate it here. How about... yes, she's sleeping through a national crisis! There. “Princess Luna, wake up! We need to talk.” Her eyelids flicker but remain closed. She rolls onto her back with her face scrunched up in an interesting combination of surprised and annoyed, and she paws at the air with her hooves a little. “Princess Luna, please, this is just getting embarrassing for the both of us.” She noisily smacks her lips, but firmly and stubbornly remains asleep. I question the need for the silence spell in the first place. After a bit more pleading of increasing volume, I resort to just nudging her gently in the ribs with my magic. Then, after that doesn't work, actually walking up to her bedside and nudging her in the side with my horn. It's a fairly simple target, since her legs are still wiggling about in the air above her. He eyes flutter open with another loud smack of the lips. She sees me. She recognizes me. Her expression turns rapidly from confusion to consternation to cordial delight. “Ah! Twilight Sparkle. I did not expect your presence in our bed chambers. Unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. Please, do sit, let it not be said that I do not try my utmost to be an accommodating host.” “Aren't you, uh, grumpy that I woke you up?” “Hrrm? Oh, no, we are only grumpy when we oversleep. That is to say, I feel delightfully clear-headed and refreshed at this moment.” “But the guards-” I stammer as I jump up onto the end corner of the bed closest to myself, taking a seat. I'm too stunned to even think of arguing. “Bah and feh! If they made the effort to wake me sooner, they need not fear waking me at all.” “Oh.” Why, Universe? Why is it that, when I do my utter best to remain calm, you throw endless trials and tribulations at me but now, now when I'm trying to not be calm and collected, you throw all this sanity and reasonableness my way. It's almost downright infuriating. Fortunately, dwelling on it is actually infuriating. Crisis averted. “Luna, we need to do something about the demesnes crisis. You need to do something about the demesnes crisis!” Luna sits up, a big plush scarlet satin pillow clutched between her forelegs and squeezed so it stretches up so that, when she leans down, she's able to rest her chin on it. Makes us seem more like two girls talking at a slumber party, really, than two quasi-immortal rulers of Equestria. “Crisis? I had not realized it had become a crisis, I thought it was merely an incredibly large, obnoxious inconvenience. An insufferably political and legal one, at that.” “Well, it's become more than that. Equestria is on the brink of a full-scale civil war.” Luna's eyes widened in what I first thought was horror until I saw the corners of her mouth tug inescapably upward. “Oh, it truly is like the days of my youth. How delightful!” I stare at her as I process the words. Then I process them again, because that couldn't possibly have been right. Double checking is required. “I'm sorry, I'm sure I misheard you, and misread your smile, but it sounds like, and looks like, you're actually excited by this.” Luna's smile changes gear into a guilty grin. “I must admit, as horrible as war is, it is rather exciting, would you not agree?” “No, I would not. I mean, wouldn't!” Not archaic ponies use contractions, Twilight. Careful, it might be contagious. “Oh, come now, young Princess Doctor-” “Doctor Princess.” “- you fought the changelings alongside your friends where the Guard could not, or so I have heard. Wasn't that bit of daring do just the slightest bit thrilling? Did it not set fire in your veins?” “That's called adrenaline. I can also get it from keeping my library books overdue, without the need for risking the loss of Equestria if I fail.” Luna's grin turns to thoughtful frown, eyebrows raised. “I must question this. Overdue library books? Are you not the librarian of the books you borrow?” Great, now she sounds like Spike. It's the principle of the thing. “I think that's beside the point,” I chide. “True,” Luna agrees, frown receding once more into a wistful smile, “but you did state that you were risking Equestria, or at least it was what you stood to lose should you fail. That means even then you knew what was at stake. Did that not instill within you great pride and a sense of honour? What could possibly be more noble?” “Not getting into that situation in the first place!” I snarl. “Are you saying that it would have been a greater feeling of pride if Equestria hadn't been so woefully underprepared, then? “Yes. Of course.” “Then you of all ponies should support the brewing struggles.” I stare at her in stunned silence. My mouth opens to retort, but no words come. It's like she's actually stuck a wrench into the fine intermeshing cogs of my lucid thought. Every time I try to come up with a reply, I just jam myself up against that horrible leap of logic. “Equestria has gone without its small internal conflict for so long its fangs have worn down to bloodied gums. Even the Guard could not stop the changelings, relying instead on a single pony to cast the crucial defensive spell they required, your brother, and believing in my sister's strength should that fail. What happened? Your brother was incapacitated. A host of bugs stormed Canterlot, and soundly defeated Celestia with almost embarrassing ease. Though I use ‘almost’ quite generously, for she is my sister.” I growl at the truth of this. “What's your point?” “Equestria needs some hooves-on combat experience. Even my much-vaunted night guard can only learn so much from drills. Iron can only be shaped when it is held to the hot coals.” Oh, there's the thing I wanted to say from the start. It's right here, coming out of my mouth right now. “Are you mad?! You would ruin hundreds of years of Equestrian peace, barring a few admittedly notable incidents.” Besides the changelings, there was the Diamond Dog incursion three hundred and fifty seven years ago, the dragon migration through Equestrian settlements that ended with conflict a few decades later, a few border skirmishes with the griffins about eighty years ago, when they had sought to test just how weak we had gotten... Still, even then, we resolved the griffin conflict with economic and political maneuvers. Luna frowns, small and tight at me, sinking her head further into the pillow. “Perhaps you are right, Twilight Sparkle. Perhaps it is me. However, that is irrelevant. Do you know why?” I raise an eyebrow, but otherwise say nothing. “It is because, regardless of which of us two is the speaker of truth, I am utterly powerless to change the current situation. That power lies firmly in the hooves of Canterlot's lawyers, who are diligently poring over the task set before them. Would you have me personally police one hundred and twenty one demesnes, simultaneously, until they are done?” “Well-” “I can not be in one hundred and twenty one locations at once. Nor is the threat of me personally visiting truly sufficient when – and I can not stress this enough, Twilight Sparkle – what the nobles are doing is, under the current laws, perfectly legal. To intervene directly would be to encourage open revolution against the perceived threat of the diarchy. “Well, why couldn't you step in and prevent a situation from escalating?” “Be you deaf? They outweigh us in numbers so astronomically that what little power we hold over them is that of a figurehead, and not much more. In olden times it were not so, but in olden times the Royal Demesne comprised a third of the nation, meaning it could hold sway over any who dared threaten it. Now it is but a single city, not even the size of Manehattan. My sister and I might stand off an army, singular, but we would not have that luxury against a monolithic foe. To those supporters back in our territory, as well, what if our foes cut off our citizens’ food lines? What of a battle of attrition? What then?” I opened my mouth. It shuts uselessly as words formed and swirled and pooled in my brain and met the brick wall of Luna's cold-iron logic. Luna doesn't seem to notice my frustration, and rolls out of bed cheerfully. “Speaking of attrition, I believe it is now time for breakfast. I know it is not time for your breakfast as such, Doctor Princess, but there is a degree of truth in the notion that the enjoyment of waffles is not limited to that of time. Freshly cut strawberries and blueberries still dripping with dew from the fields this morning, does the thought not make your mouth water?” The taut-cables holding my anger high and aloft snap under the tension. She used my correct title, snap! The offer of waffles! Snap, snap! Really good waffles! Snap! “But you can't just do nothing!” I insist, desperately clutching on to a little white-hot ember still smouldering at the core of my mind. Luna stares at me in confusion, then it appears recognition dawns on her. No, no it doesn't, it's not allowed to. It must be something else. "Twilight, you appear to be discontent in much the same way as my sister is. Does the assistant I sent displease you? I was sure to send one that most complimented your personality. In the many missives we have shared, she has yet to note any displeasure you have with her, so I sincerely doubt that is the issue." I flinch. Luna notices, because of course she does. Now she can be perceptive. "Ah," she smiles impishly, "I see. Twilight Sparkle, if you had wished merely for a companion to bed with, you merely had to ask. I'm certain my sister merely swept the laws regarding concubines under the rug, too. I would have to check with the lawyers first, but--" "What? No! Don’t you even consider for a single moment!" Luna plows on ahead thoughtfully. Or perhaps thoughtlessly. Some combination thereof. "Though truly, if you were to put much thought into it, doesn't being smitten with the assistant I sent mayhaps seem mildly narcissistic? She is unerringly similar to you in many regards..." I try to mentally rally myself. Bitter and confused thoughts conspire against me though. "I think we're being distracted from... from the main issues here." "Oh, and what were the main issues again?" My mouth flaps open and shut uselessly as my mouth desperately waits for my brain to kick into gear, but it appears to have stalled. What issues are left that she hasn't already shot down with cold logic? Think, think, think, think, think- "I see," Luna nods, as if what I'm doing was a completely legitimate response and not just a few moments of stunned and introspective, read silly, silence. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk with me about?" "I... you... but... Gah!" I have the desperate urge to drop another piano on her. Maybe a harpsichord, if they're heavier. That's not my anger reserves though; those have heartily evaporated. This is all pure embarrassment and startled frustration, far more short lived, far less potent, and infinitely harder to channel constructively. "Delightful," Luna smiles. "Well, then, I wish to you the best of luck in your future endeavours, though I trust you shan't be in need of it. My offer of waffles is still extended most heartily. Otherwise, I am most peckish.” “I already ate.” I mumble, thinking back to the snacks at the park what must now be hours ago. “Are you sure? You do look quite peckish as well.” “No thanks. I really think I should be going now... Ponyville probably needs me right now.” Besides, I've just eaten a vast quantity of my own words and then stuck my hoof in my mouth for dessert, I don't have the appetite left for waffles. “Very well, then. More waffles for me, so to the dining room I shall abscond,” Luna declared cheerfully, prancing towards the door with me trailing behind her in a good sulk. She stopped at the threshold, peering to either side of it. “Twilight, why are there guards posted outside my door?” “I thought this would turn into a conversation of grave importance,” I sigh, “and it seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. Everything seemed like such a good idea an hour ago.” “Oh. I see. Well, they have done their jobs most admirably, I feel. Would they perchance like to be our Royal taste testers this evening?” Anvil nodded before Hammer could stop him. Quite a lot of nodding. In fact he was still nodding. “Oh? And why is that? Thou dost realize there could be poisoning most foul involved, particularly in these troubled time?” Luna teased. Yes, troubled times you sort of started. “Anvil!” Hammer scolded. “I'm sorry, Princess, he just gets really excited about waffles for some reason.” My eyebrows shoot up. Luna's gaze favours him for the moment. “Ah, did I mention waffles? I recollect no such thing. Twilight, did I, in fact, inform these fine stallions what I would be dining on this eve?” Anvil's turned incredibly pale, somehow. I didn't know that was possible for a pony that shade of white. Hammer blinks slowly, and you can practically hear the gears in his head come to a grinding halt. This won't end well. I don't appreciate being used as a prop for this, though. Really, I'd much rather yell at them myself. Luna's warm cheeriness is far more disturbing. “Only to me. In confidence.” Luna's expression loses all warmth. The room loses all warmth. It's like her very soul has turned to ice, sucking all the happiness and light and frosting it over into a frozen glint of playfulness in the corners of her eyes. Kind of like a cat eyeing down a mouse it had mortally wounded, preparing for the long and entertaining evening spent watching it struggle beneath the paw pinning it down. It was rather fitting, then, that Hammer rather looked like a pinned mouse. “So, it would indeed appear that you were eavesdropping on a royal conversation of utmost importance. Your knowledge would constitute a breach of security of the highest levels.” Anvil stared on. Hammer jumped at the liferaft with the viciousness of a drowning pony. “I was just trying to stop Private Anvil, your majesty, when-” He never finishes that sentence. Instead, he feels my own gaze boring into the side of his head. His mouth slams shut and his head turns until my gaze is now boring into his eyes, instead. “That is to say, it's all my fault and Private Anvil had nothing to do with it. I just told him about the waffles, 'cause I know how much he, uh, likes them.” . “You learn quickly, Private Hammer,” I intone evenly, “but you're still not a very good liar.” Hammer and Anvil gulp, loudly. Neither has moved from their post at the door, instead having turned only their heads to face us. Now their eyes point directly forward. That doesn't stop Anvil's from wandering back over to Luna's unamused expression, catching only a fleeting look that told him far more than he needed, and pointing directly forward again. “I suppose punishment is in order. In the old days, I would have ordered thine heads on pikes. That was a thousand years ago, however. These days I am forced to be far more cruel.” My eyebrows shoot up. I'm about to object when I see that playful glint in Luna's eye. Of course they didn't put heads on pikes a thousand years ago, she's just saying that to scare them. … right? It looks like the guards are decidedly less certain than I am. Remarkably pale, even for white stallions. “I will be dining upon waffles. You shall bear witness to this, and you will not be allowed to partake. In fact, We find it prudent that you witness us dine the rest of this week hence, during which time you will be condemned from eating before Us. We shall use this time to discuss the nature of what, exactly, you have just overheard in excruciating detail. Are We understood?” “Where did Sergeant Commonsense go? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on you two.” There was the very sudden, very loud exclamation of... certain expletives. I flush reflexively, but Luna looks... mildly approving. “I was gone for five minutes to alert the others that we had unexpectedly vacated our positions, and to inform them that it wasn't an attack on the palace. What happened?” Oh. Oops. “These two were caught eavesdropping,” Luna informs him gravely, shooting me an aside look. I grin sheepishly. “There is no need for further alarm, I assure you, their punishment has been meted out.” “But not by their commanding sergeant,” Commonsense growled, stalking up to us with every muscle in his withers tensed, “and last I checked, these two were in neither Intelligence nor in Communications, having neither intelligence nor communication skills, so they had absolutely no right, rhyme, nor reason to be overhearing matters relevant to national security.” “I assure you, good Sergeant, there is no need for further reprimand.” “Princess, I must politely and with all due respect disagree. These ponies were acting under my command, and their disrespectful and unprofessional actions reflect poorly on me and on the Guard as a result. Also, I suspect I'm far less concerned with my soldiers liking me than you are.” Luna flinches almost imperceptibly. I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been standing right next to her. “I once more assure you, Sergeant, that there is no need for such an assumption.” Commonsense glares at Princess Luna. “Princess, your recent desire for the affection and admiration of those under you has been rather endearing, but is rather undermining your ability to give out punishments. What did you do? Take away their desserts for a week?” I'm watching Luna carefully now, so I don't miss that wince, that slight turning of her head. “They may still have it, but only after watching me eat mine.” Commonsense looks at her blankly a moment. “Is that it, Princess?” Luna's frown cuts deep into her face, her eyes darken, like storm clouds have passed behind them. “What gives you the right to question my punishment of these troops?” “Two things, Princess,” one of his brown wings snaps into a sharp salute. “The first being chain of command. They still answer to me, first and foremost. The second is that Doctor Princess Twilight Sparkle has given me permission to speak freely, Princess.” I did do that, didn't I? Like so much of today, it seemed like such a good idea at the time. “You dare invalidate my chosen reprimand?” “No, Princess, I do not. However, I insist that Privates Hammer and Anvil also read all personal correspondence at morning formation for a month. If they cannot respect another's privacy, then their privacy shall not be respected, either. This will be in addition to whatever punishment you have chosen for them.” That's... what a clever punishment. He's right, that does beat Luna's. Luna glares at him now, openly. “You have Princess Twilight's permission to speak freely, Sergeant, but not mine. I will abide your additional punishment, providing you escort her from the palace. Privates Hammer and Anvil will be joining me for breakfast, now, though the rest of your squad is returned to normal duties.” The sergeant snaps off another smart-looking salute at Luna as he gives me a look weighed down with meaning, turning sharply and trotting off. I skip a bit to catch up, then fall in beside him, feeling more than noticing Luna's gaze burning into the back of our heads. I wait for us to turn a corner before I dare comment. “How did you do that?” The tight, taut muscles sag, and his whole frame suddenly heaves a few inches lower. “I was exceptionally angry. I doubt I could have said any of that, otherwise.” “I tried that! I still wasn't able to have your same charisma that you had with Luna. She just ended up making me not angry, and then I was helpless. You just...” He smiles a little, but those eyes look more weary and bloodshot than ever. “You misunderstand. I wasn't angry at her. I was angry at-” oh, that's a word I won't repeat, “-ing Privates Hammer and Anvil. Princess Luna just happened to be standing between us, as it were, when all I wanted to do was stand there and yell at my privates.” “So-” “Which was really, really stupid of me. Really-” oh my, “-ing stupid.” “You weren't swearing quite like this before, Sergeant.” That smile again, a bit more, and those weary eyes get a twinkle of mischief. “You didn't give me permission to speak freely before, Doctor Princess.” “You're certainly taking a liberal definition of 'free', Sergeant,” I chastise, but the hint of nervous giggling in my voice kind of undermines my authority here. Nopony really cusses around me, it's almost novel. Of course, whilst I'd very much like to keep it that way, the almost casual use of profanity is so rare for me it's hard to not be enraptured by it, like a forbidden fruit. Could you imagine me saying a word like... oh, dear. Or perhaps... oh, my, what would my mother think? “Thank you, for that, though,” he sounds thoroughly exhausted. Have I pushed him too hard? “I'm sorry for scaring your soldiers like that.” He grunts. “Yes, well, I'm sure they had it coming. Probably.” There's something he's not saying though. He keeps looking at my horn whilst doing his very best to make sure I don't notice. “Surely you've seen a horn before? Or is mine just that special?” I grin, “It's the pointiness, isn't it?” He chokes on nothing in particular, stumbling. “Sorry, I was just thinking.” “Isn't that a little dangerous for a sergeant? Something you better leave to the officers?” That eeks another little smile out of him. I've learned enough guardspony humour from my brother, it seems. “I'm sure they'd love to hear you say that, too, Princess. No, I was just thinking... Could you really pull a pony apart like you said?” I think about it. “Why would I ever do that?” He says another word that I should not repeat, ever, because it makes my ears burn like Celestia's own solar plasma, “I am very glad you're on our side, Doctor Princess.” I give up on trying to understand this. The way he's said it, though, is worth drawing attention to. “There's a side, now? I thought that side was just Equestria, Sergeant.” I may not be, ah, familiar with profanities, but I'm not quite that naïve. So I’m led to follow... well, there's just a very accurate adage in the scientific community; sometimes the fastest way to get the right answer is to say the wrong one. He snorts, and the smile disappears completely. He looks so old in that moment, what must be thirty going on three-hundred, and I could swear I see a few brown fur follicles turn grey right before my very eyes. “That's not quite a side anymore, Doctor Princess. It's- sorry, that title is getting a bit much to keep saying, do you have anything shorter?” “Just Twilight should be fine for now, Sergeant.” “Uh... I was meaning one or the other, just Twilight is a bit personal, isn't it?” “You've been speaking more freely than I expected for a little while now, Commonsense. Let's enjoy the privilege in the short time we have left together.” He nods slightly. “Alright. Well, anyway, it's not one side anymore, it's several dozen.” “A hundred and twenty one, right?” He shakes his head. “We got confirmation this morning. First demesne to be surrendered, subsumed. It's a-” language, “-ing shame, too. Fancy Pants is too good a pony to deserve that.” My heart turns to cold, icy lead. Looks like there wasn't anything in that book for him after all. “Any news on what happened to him?” Commonsense shakes his weary head. “It was non-violent, but he's probably going to be stripped of his titles. Land. Bits. Good thing the stallion doesn't normally wear pants, or he'd probably be stripped of those, too.” There was so much more I could have done in Canterlot... but now? “I need to get back to Ponyville right away.” “I'd imagine so,” Commonsense nods. “It was an honour to serve under your brother, by the way,” there's a hesitant pause, and he moves his mouth like it's gummed with treacle, “Twilight. He’s a good pony. One of the best. Spoke very highly of his brilliant little sister, you know.” I blush. “He never said how scary you were, though. Intense.” “Turns out that doesn't work for me how I want it to,” I admit. “Would you mind being my official Luna translator next time?” “No offense, Doctor Princess, but there aren't enough bits in the world.” I can't help but smile as we step out into the dying light of the Canterlot sunset. It's beautiful. The throngs of ponies disappearing into their homes after a long day of- wait, is that...? Coiffed black mane on pale blue fur, tweed jacket with shiny faux-leather shoulder patches, vaguely twitchy but otherwise almost regal in a self-assured way. “Fine Mane?” He gallops up to the pair of us at the gates. Unfortunately, this being the palace, there's quite a long flight of stairs between us, and he's left panting by the time he reaches us. There's a dark, pointed raise of an eyebrow, though, as he catches his breath. “Really now? Consorting with the guards, I see, Twilight?” I chuckle. “Consorting? That's a three syllable word, Professor Fine Mane. I'm impressed.” “Ah, yes, about that. I just got sacked.” “What?!” Commonsense looks back and forth between us. Finally he settles on; “I'll just leave you two alone, then, right? Right.” Then he disappears back into the palace. He doesn't look back, not even for a moment. “Yes, well, some students of mine mentioned the job offer to the uppers, and, uh, well, they heard I was getting other job offers. Because they told them I was, you see. So they decided to fire me before I could, mm, quit. As soon as my contract runs its course in six months, I'll be out on my arse, as it were.” I smile. I realize I am smiling. I cannot help it. It's a rather large smile, so Fine Mane notices it, and sighs appropriately. “Yes, yes, this means I'm afraid I'm going to have to accept your appointment after all, Doctor Princess. You best have the building ready for me by then, right? And students?” “Right,” I nod, still smiling like a doofus, “it'll be an honour-” He grimaces at that. “I don't have any choice in the matter, so please don't rub salt in the wound.” “Oh, er, right.” “I shall be in touch, then. I will most likely see you in six months, Princess. I just spoke with your rather unfortunately named assistant when I saw her waiting at the, uh, train station for you. I expected you to be leaving rather soon.” “She's waiting for me? I insisted she meet me back at Ponyville.” “Well, she did say that, but she also said something about having a good book to pass the time with, and something about your company.” She said that? Why'd she have to say that? “But, uh, yes. That's why I ran here. She said this is probably where I would, yes, find you. So I did. Find you, that is.” “That's rather apparent, yes.” Fine Mane stares at me a long moment. I stare back. He blinks, bewildered. “I've just realized I have nothing more to say.” “That's rather a first, then.” He chortles. “This coming from the mare who once lectured an entire lecture theatre comatose-” “Yes.” “- whilst speaking on the values of -” “Yes, I get it.” “- loam-raised fungi vs excrement-raised fungi as -” “Please stop reminding me, this is painfully embarrassing.” “ - a valuable source of alternative nutrition in in an eternal-night apocalypse scenario.” “How do you remember this?” “I won the pool on how long it would take for at least third of the classroom to fall asleep. Made quite a few bits.” “Remind me why I'm hiring you, again?” “Because, Twilight, I can keep you humble. Besides, may I point out that I won that pool?” “You may not.” “I'm going to anyway, because I just did. Right then.” “I'm aware. You may stop at any time.” “It was eighteen minutes and forty three seconds.” Curiosity overrides my desire to not hear this painful reminder of my own past. It often does. “How did you know-” “The exact time?” Fine Mane interrupts me, and I make an expression like I've bit into something unexpectedly sour, “Because you practiced your speech on me, and that was the exact moment you said 'But what's really fascinating about mycotoxins is-'.” Now that's just not fair! “But there are so many different effects produced by mould on just corn alone, and whilst fusarium and citrinin might seem similar at first-” “I completely agree. Which is why I was able to sit through the whole thing.” “Well, alright then.” “Then again, I was also testing whether my grass would grow faster than my paint would dry, and that was absolutely riveting.” “Oh. So which won?” “Pardon?” “The grass, or the paint? And how did you comparatively quantify two different metrics?” Fine Mane stares at me, unblinking. I still have no idea why ponies keep doing this to me today. “Well, you accounted for all the variables at least, right?” Fine Mane continues to stare at me, unmoving. I'm not even sure he's breathing. After about six seconds – if you don't think that's a long time for someone to be staring silently at you, count it aloud, right now – he finally blinked and shook his head, muttering to himself. “What?” He just muttered something under his breath and turned, storming off, frustration visible with every jerking hoofstep. “Fired!” he curses the heavens with a manic laugh, “for this!” He recedes into the crowds, stomping his way back to the lower sections of the city. He doesn't hear me, obviously, when I call after him whether the grass did, in fact, grow faster than the paint dried. Mustn't have heard me. Him kicking a rubbish bin shortly after was probably purely coincidental. “Well!” I declare cheerily to myself, “at least that went well, I think.” The train ride back is eternal. It stretches to the very borders of my existence. Has there ever been a time when I wasn't in this traincar, making small-talk with Golden? The very smallest quantifiable measurement of talk expands to fill the largest quantifiable measurement of time. I swear we already passed that mountain. Didn't we? Am I doomed to endlessly repeat this journey, never arriving, cursed to have pleasant conversation with a pony I am crushing on like Spike's jaws on a gemstone, only in this simile the gemstone doesn't crack, because it's waiting for much stronger, sexier, athletic jaws to close around it. Great, now I'm picturing Golden making out with Dash with a mouthful of dragon teeth. My cheeks flush. My cheeks flush? I like that? What is wrong with me?! Is this why Golden would rather be with Dash? Am I too weird for her? Too distant – wait she said something funny laugh, laugh as you introspect! – or perhaps too unattainable? Too unattainable? Who am I kidding, I'm just plain old regular Twilight Sparkle, bookworm, egghead, recluse. Anypony who's been around me for more than a few seconds should know that. There's not that much special about me. Well, beside the fact that I have a town full of slaves, an un-princessly amount of gold sitting in coffers guarded by my own adoptive-brother dragon, and wings and a horn. But all that was recent. That doesn't change who I am. And what I am is a boring old bookworm. When you hold me up against Dash – wait Golden said something sad stop smiling – who is passionate, athletic, dedicated, determined, brash, bold, honest, energetic... It's no wonder I come up short. I mean, I'm taller than Dash now, but- I really need to stop over-analyzing my own expressions. I watch forlornly out the window. Darn it, it's that same mountain again, I'm sure of it. I tear my eyes away from the window and look at Golden again. She's smiling nervously at me, great big golden eyes shimmering like effervescent orbs of champagne. “Do you really think Rainbow Dash would say 'yes', Doctor Princess? Truly?” “For a mare like you, Golden?” I say, my own voice sounding hollow to my own ears, as flat and dead as whatever unfortunate critter fell onto the tracks beneath this train, “I'm absolutely sure she would.” The 'I would' goes unsaid. “I won't let it interfere with my duties, of course,” Golden nods rapidly, anxiously, “work comes before personal life, always. We still need to zone for the universities, but that's going to be relatively simple with the proper planning we've put in prior. Then we need to organize for students, so we'll need to advertise across Equestria. I'll have the forms for radio and print media advertisement application forms on your desk by tomorrow morning, with data on where the best value for your bits lies, of course. I should be able to find that. All I have to do is work out the media platform's audience in ratio to its potential untapped student demographic, for every media platform within trainline distance of Ponyville. Easy!” When she puts it like that it does not sound easy, but she looks so proud – she's seated still in her seat, but her ridiculously wide smile is infectious to an alarming degree and her head bobbles with every word like her spine is a spring and every syllable a tap from a giant invisible finger. “With the potential student workforce, we'll also need to rezone for denser industry – with Filthy Rich's help of course – but before that we'll need to source labour and construction materials – but again I suppose Filthy Rich might be our best ally here – and map out the new infrastructure Ponyville will need to support the population influx...” She goes on for a bit, and I desperately try to focus on what she's saying – really, I do, Pinkie swear – but as I look out at that clear blue sky outside our train's window, I can't help but picture Golden with a certain pegasus of approximately the same hue and- Is it? It is. It's that same Celestia-darned mountain. “Though we might have to account for the increased wealth gap, with captains of industry side-by-side with students, I think-” “Sorry, Golden, but there's something I have to do. I'll be right back, just... stay right here.” Golden looks left, down the train carriage. Golden looks right, also down the train carriage. “I don't know how I'll contain myself, seeing as I'm surrounded with such tantalizing alternatives.” It would hurt to smile at that. But I do, and it does. Pew Bang! Wind whips around my ears now that I don't have the walls of the carriage to protect me from it. I have an unobstructed view of the landscape passing around the train, below it, beside it. I am briefly contemplating bringing a deck chair up onto the roof of the carriage the next time I pop up here when a bug smacks into my teeth. Ptew, ptui, ptoo. At least when you're flying, you can fly high enough to avoid most flying insects. The train kind of scoops them up with the force of the air it ploughs in front of it, which is then sucked across its roof and slammed into your face at a distressing velocity. Which is to say; Ptew, ptui, ptoo. I think I got most of them out of my mouth. I have more important things to think about than that, though. I turn around and stare at the accursed mountain we'd passed what has to have been several times now, a look filled with accusation and hatred. I start channeling a spell. I really want to make a molehill out of that mountain, but that would be making a mountain out of a molehill. Instead I blast it with much less, much more controlled force, carving a chunk out of it. A few chips of rock fall out of it, just visible from the train as my cutie mark. I'm not narcissistic, I just have practice making that shape, okay? It's not like I could focus on making a new shape with all these bugs in my teeth. Anyway. So now, when – if – we pass that same infuriating mountain again, I'll have proof. Nopony could confuse that for a natural formation. Pew! Bang! I smile reassuringly at Golden when I reappear in the carriage. She stares at me in some mixture of disgust and horror, probably at about a two to one ratio. Her dainty golden spectacles slide down her nose, and she doesn't think to push them up. Think, think think think. Why would she- I catch a look at what my smile looks like in a bit of polished brass. I wipe the last of the veritable swarm of bugs from my teeth off on my foreleg. It comes away green and ichorous, covered in various fractured limbs and broken wings. Ew. I really need to wash my leg. And brush my teeth. My eyes widen. I really need to brush my teeth, like, right now. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew- Pew! Bang! Train bathroom. Not the best of facilities, but I brought my own toiletries with me. Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub – not enough. I double the force, double the speed, until the sound of the soft bristles on my teeth is as constant and deafening as the crash of waves grinding on coarse sand. Scrub, scrub, scrub. I floss until the thin white string comes away tinged with red stains on top of the black and green. Rinse, spit. Rinse again, spit again. Not enough. Still not enough. Rinse again, gargle, rinse harder, strain the water over and between teeth, spit. Okay, better. Good. I can't believe I had that in my mouth. I can't believe Golden saw. Golden! Right! Pew! Bang! Okay, trying to teleport this much on a moving train and compensating for its velocity is starting to be a strain. I would dub it train strain, but that would sound like I was exerted from training. Still, that makes it hard to recompose myself enough to thoroughly convince Golden I'm alright now when I finally pop back. “Alright, Doctor Princess, spit it out,” her eyes widen briefly, eyebrows shooting up, and quickly she starts waving a hoof in a frantically dismissive gesture, “really bad choice of words. Appalling, even.” “I don't think even Colgate's been as passionate about a mouth scrub as I just was, so there's no need to worry about that.” “I can assure you, Doctor Princess, that no matter how true that may be, that smile is going to give me nightmares for weeks. Completely not your fault, can't change that, so let's move on to what you were thinking when you blasted your cutie mark into that mountain.” “Oh, you saw that, did you?” “No, I didn't see the gigantic flash of purple light from the train's roof, or hear the thundercrack of stone being carved out of a cliff face, or feel the train rattle from what could only have been the recoil of whatever you did.” “I tried to give you a reassuring smile about it!” “I said we are moving on from that smile, Doctor Princess. Please respect my decision on that matter.” “Sorry,” I mutter, hanging my head. “Right. Now, that still begs the pressing issue of why you felt the need to reassure me at all. If you felt the need to be reassuring, then some part of you must realize that you did something other ponies might find...” “Crazy?” I offer, fully appreciating the detailed construction of the carriage's floor. “Your word, not mine,” Golden grumbles, “personally I would have said 'inexplicable', or 'unsettling'. I don't think you're crazy, I just want to know why you did whatever you just did.” “Well, uh, I was convinced we'd just passed the same mountain three times now, and I just wanted to mark it so I could make sure, next time, to prove I wasn't just imagining it.” “And you thought it would be more sane to carve what must be a five meter tall incision into a mountainside than to simply ask me?” “I didn't want to bother you.” The rest of the trip back to Ponyville is spent in an incredulous, incredibly uncomfortable silence. But at least we don't pass that same darned mountain again.