//------------------------------// // Revelations // Story: The Impossible Dream // by Merc the Jerk //------------------------------// Macintosh squinted as he took in his still dark room. Seeing no point in laying in bed longer, he arose with a loud yawn, stretching his forelegs above his head, before wincing and clutching his head. Last night finally caught up. He gave a wry smile at this, getting to his hooves and heading down to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and cracked open an egg into it. Bracing himself, he tilted the concoction back and swallowed it whole, coughing irritably as he felt the raw egg slide down his throat. Afterwords, he cleaned his glass and sat at the dining table, thinking, as he was sometimes apt to do. Macintosh made a mental checklist on what he needed to do today. He was finally well enough physically to take to plowing the fields again, something he figured he'd start on in a few minutes to break him into working, and allow him to finish earlier than normal. After he put an hour or two in, it was his turn to make breakfast for everypony, and he figured some cinnamon toast and oatmeal would be just perfect for a day like this. Afterword, he would take Applebloom to school an- Applebloom. He shut his eyes, refusing to let his mind trail to where he knew it was wanting to go. Instead of wallowing in self pity, he focused, returning back to his mental list. After he got back to the farm, he would return to plowing for another couple hours. By then, Grannie Smith would have lunch ready, and he could get a bite down. Then maybe he could spend a few more hours with Zecora, before going to the party Pinkie Pie drafted everypony into. He smiled at the thought of the striped equine. Macintosh would be the first to admit, they hadn't known one another long at all. Yet, ever since they started talking, the red stallion felt a connection with the medicine mare- a spark he'd never even come close to feeling with any other pony he'd been with. Even ignoring how he felt in that regard, Zecora had his respect- something just as important as a connection. The zebra had proved to Macintosh that she knew how to handle a crisis with the best of them, she had wit and charm, and she had a mesmerizing knowledge of plant life, something Macintosh was readily envious of. Like yesterday, before... before the close call, she had not only told him of a mushroom that helped cure back pain, but she had even identified a poisonous plant Mac had never heard of, a Dyinglac. Macintosh shook his head. That wasn't it. He rubbed his chin in thought. Lyinglac. He smiled to himself, glad it came to his mind. If it hadn't, that would have bugged him all day. If he remembered right, Zecora said it was a moss or something that grew in caves. Macintosh put a hoof to his head in thought. There was a reason his mind was stuck on this note, refusing to play past it. He just had to think of wh- Tilting Windmills. The name snapped free of his subconscious suddenly, the jolt of it nearly causing the farmpony to rise. That's what was bugging him for so damn long. Macintosh was pretty sure he'd seen that Lyinglac before. When he first found Tilting frozen in stone, he saw a blue, luminescent moss decorating the cave walls. That would explain everything about the pony and his odd ways. At least, Macintosh thought. And if Zecora knew what sort of poison it was, then she might know a cure to fix him back up. Later on today, he'd check. The red stallion rose with a smile, heading outside to begin working in the still unborn sun. 000 Macintosh continued to work the fields under the noonday heat, glad to be back in his element. He looked onward as he plowed the lines with a speed that would make other farmers envious. The stallion was making good progress, he had this area almost finished. Odds are he could get it done before- The sound of a triangle ringing disrupted his thoughts, and he frowned at the interruption. “So much for getting it done before lunch,” he grumbled, lazily unhitching himself from the plow, and heading towards the house. As he got closer to home, he sniffed the air in anticipation of a meal. He paused, noting an unusual scent, one rife with spices his Grannie normally didn't use. He stepped inside, moving quickly to the kitchen, where Zecora was serving up a brown, ground up dish garnished with jalapeno peppers to his family, save for Rainbow Dash and Applebloom, who were absent. He took a seat at the table, Tilting Windmills on one side, Applejack the other. Macintosh gave a curious look to the zebra as she placed a large ladle full fool of the concoction in front of him. He leaned forward, sniffing the aromatic food. “Ya make this, Zecora?” the red stallion asked, his confusion even more evident as she placed not eating utensils in front of everypony, but a large piece of flatbread. After serving drinks around the table, the striped equine sat, and nodded to Macintosh. “Indeed I did, big Mac. I thought it would make a good snack,” she replied, before looking at everypony else. “Do not let the lack of forks fill you with dread. Simply use the injera bread.” Zecora demonstrated as such, scooping the mix with her piece of bread, then bringing it to her lips. “Heh. Kinda like a burrito.” Braeburn nodded in understanding, scooping the dish onto the bread and eating it himself. His eyes widened. “Tef sttf aayf baf.” “What?” Applejack asked from across the table. Braeburn swallowed. “I said, 'this stuff ain't bad.'” “I'm glad you like it, I admit. Some ponies just are not willing to try fit-fit.” Zecora said, chewing thoughtfully. Applejack put some close to her lips, but winced, putting the bread back down on the plate. “I... I dunno if I can do this,” she whispered to Macintosh, eying the dish warily. “Don't be a baby. Ain't nothin' in there that'll kill ya,” Macintosh replied quietly, placing his meal onto the bread and taking a bite. His eyes widened in appreciation as a medley of spiced flavors assaulted him. After finishing it, he took a satisfied drink of water. “Ya'll sure ya can't cook, Zecora?” he quipped. “A dish like this is easy to make. Just please don't ask me to bake,” she fired back with a wink. “Ya'll can make some good eats, youngin',” Grannie Smith drawled hoarsely. “I'm glad the meal was a delight. It's not often I treat others to a bite.” Zecora chuckled. A few minutes later, the family had cleaned their plates and started to disperse; Braeburn gathering dishes, Grannie Smith heading upstairs, Applejack yawning wearily into her hoof as she trotted outside with Tilting. Macintosh got up from the chair, taking a few steps and nudging Zecora's side with his head. She smiled playfully, rising from her seat and bumping him back. “What ya got planned for the rest of the day?” the red stallion questioned. She shrugged. “I feel as if I'm in a rut. Perhaps it's time I returned to my hut.” Mac nodded, thinking it over. “Well, I reckon I could escort ya back, if'n ya want me to.” He paused after saying that, shaking his head. “Wait a sec. I jus remembered somethin' I wanted ta ask ya.” “Oh?” she replied, playfully raising a brow. “Ya'll remember yesterday, those Lyinglac deals?” he questioned, glancing at the table. “I do remember telling you. It is a moss that grows in an area rife with dew.” Zecora answered, her joking demeanor all but vanished as she started talking shop. “Well. I ain't sayin' that our friend Tiltin' Windmills got poisoned by one, but I remember some blue moss on the walls of where I found him. Ya reckon it could have effected him even while stoned?” He reconsidered his words. “Er, I mean, while in stone?” “I have never heard of the plants effects, on one who suffers a stone's vex,” She stated, thinking deeply. “But that's not sayin' it's impossible.” “Nothing is impossible, Mac. Just improbable, and that's a fact,” the zebra replied, shrugging casually. The stallion retraced his steps briefly. “Well, like I said, I ain't even sure if he's poisoned by it. It just seems odd, him tossin' out all those fancy words an' stuff. In case he is, though, ya'll wouldn't happen to have a cure, would ya?” Zecora shook her head. “Not currently made. Fresh out, I'm afraid.” “Well, 'fore ya head back ta yer hut, would ya care 'bout makin' some? I want ta have it on hoof, jus' in case.” The striped equine gave a warm look toward the stallion. “For letting me into your home, I can certainly craft it before I roam.” “Do ya need some bits fer ingredients or anythin'?” Macintosh awkwardly asked, shuffling on his hooves. Not that he was poor, but a farmer's bits were pretty sad in comparison to some professions. She gave a deep, hearty laugh at the suggestion. “This shall be free of charge. The cost of this isn't very large.” “Ah,” he grunted. Zecora glanced over towards the kitchen, and smiled, seeing Braeburn was distracted. “Would you like to join me while I'm making it? I should have enough supplies in my pouch upstairs.” She plainly asked, forgoing rhyming briefly. “Eyup.” The red stallion nodded. The two quickly departed, heading up the stairs and into one of the Apple family's guest rooms; a bit less decorated than Macintosh's or Applejack's, but still containing a cozy, welcoming atmosphere throughout it. Zecora moved to the closet, rummaging around until she pulled out a small cloth pouch. “Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing her head over to the bed as she started digging into her belongings. “E-eyup.” Macintosh gulped, doing as he was instructed. Zecora looked up at the stallion, who had turned a deeper shade of red. “Macintosh...” she started in a natural tone. “Eyup?” he asked, trying to stay calm as he put his front hooves on the side of the bed, rapping them nervously against the side. “Just because I invited you to my room doesn't mean-” His eyes widened at her implication before he started to stammer. “Nnope. I know ya ain't- that is, we ain't, uh, ain't ready for somethin' like that, 'specally with so many ponies nearby.” She cracked a grin. “So easy to tease. You were not even half this nervous at the hut when we first met.” “W-well, that's cause I didn't know what I do now,” he countered, taking a breath. “And that is?” she questioned, her attention caught for a moment as she turned to actually face him. “Yer beautiful,” Macintosh simply replied, a humble, unashamed tone in his voice. Zecora stood, her mouth slightly agape at the sudden, unexpected complement as he continued. “An' I ain't talking 'bout yer looks. They're great, but that ain't what matters. What matters is I've seen ya at yer heart, what makes ya, you. An' I think it's the most darn prettiest thing. How patient ya are with Applebloom. How smart ya are with yer potions, an plants, an all 'a that. Yer sense of humor. Yer special. Really special ta me.” He stared down at the floor. “An that's why I'm a bit nervous round ya. I ain't nothin' more than a country pony who can't even talk right ta a pretty mare like ya'll without getting flustered. Why in the hay are ya wastin' time on somepony like me?” After a beat, he felt a weight on the mattress join his side. He glanced up, coming inches within Zecora's face. Macintosh recoiled instinctively, but the mare quickly put her hoof behind his head and brought him in for a deep, passionate kiss. They remained locked together for what seemed like blissful ages to Macintosh, before Zecora broke the trance she put him in. Mac continued to stare at her with dazed eyes. He rubbed them with a hoof, trying to clear his head. “Don't ever think I'm wasting time with you, Macintosh,” She sternly argued, turning slightly and taking both his hooves in hers. “You're just as special to me. That's all that needs to be said.” He blinked, finally coming to his senses. “Zecora...” Macintosh trailed off, unsure how to continue. The zebra wordlessly rose after proving her point, casually moving a few feet back towards her bags. With a devilish wink in Mac's direction, she began searching through her bags once more. “Eyup. I still ain't got a clue 'bout marefolk,” Mac drawled under his breath, a smile present on his face in spite of the words. 000 Nighttime came quickly for Applejack, the day nothing more than a tired, work filled blur in her fatigued mind. As she blearily gazed around town, she knew that despite this, the job was done right. AJ had learned years ago how to put her body on autopilot during grueling marathons of labor, and let her mind shut down for a bit to recuperate. She just hoped that she put the cart back into the barn after spending a good chunk of the day hauling rotten apples toward the compost heap; Rainbow told her that the town was due for rain early in the morning. She, Macintosh, Applebloom, Braeburn, Rainbow Dash, and Tilting Windmills were all making their way through the market district of town, heading towards the library. Applejack swallowed nervously. The farmpony was starting to get cold hooves about Rarity's plan. Granted, they deserved the truth, as did Tilting himself, but it still hurt, thinking that they were going to crush his beliefs. She silently cursed, looking at the stone tiles below her as the group continued to walk. If she hadn't listened to what he said last night, then this wouldn't be half as bad. AJ could have just clung to her belief that the truth was always the right thing to strive for, no exceptions. Now though, it felt like letting him have a lie to believe in so his personal truth and ambitions would be unsoiled seemed the best thing to do. She let out an audible groan. This is why she left the thinking to Twilight, all of it was making her head hurt. Tilting heard the noise and paused for a second, waiting until Applejack's slow plodding caught up. “Art thou alright, Jack?” he asked, keeping an easy pace with her. “I don't even know, pardner,” the blonde maned pony honestly replied. He nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer. “Ya reckon there's gonna be anythin' ta drink?” Braeburn quietly drawled over to Macintosh. “Punch,” Mac curtly said, glancing obviously at the small filly in front of them. “That'll be swell,” The vest clad stallion replied, catching onto what his cousin was implying. “Oh bro, you know it! Pinkie rocks the best stuff!” Rainbow Dash butted in, not noticing the cowpony's obvious sarcasm, and putting a foreleg around his shoulders as they walked together. She glanced to her side after a moment. “Yo, Mac,” she called, pulling her foreleg away from Braeburn. “Where's your ball and chain?” “Can't say I own one of them.” Mac shook his head. “I know we got some rope at the house though, if ya really are needin' it.” Rainbow Dash put a hoof to her face. “No, no, no. I'm talking about the marefriend.” “Oh,” he answered, coughing into a hoof. “She's at the house, Grannie's back was hurtin' her somethin' bad, an' Zecora said she was gonna try somethin' ta help it.” “Lame, I wanted to see if she was any good at pin the tale on the pony.” Dash shrugged, rising a few feet off the ground and keeping pace with the stallions with a few lazy flaps of her wings. The large group arrived at the library, and even from the distance they were, they could tell the party was in full swing. Music pumped out of the library and Ponies dotted all along the outside, talking and laughing amongst one another. Several raised their drinks as the group approached and entered the building. Ponies swarmed around the library floor, several stood about a refreshment table just a bit away from the entrance. In the center of the room was an excited, giggling Pinkie Pie and a less than enthused Fluttershy, both dancing together to the sound of a heavy techno beat that made the Apple family wince instinctively. Both were so involved in their dancing, that they didn't even notice the new guests; rather, they just kept stomping their hooves, kicking up glitter where they stepped. “Oh man,” Rainbow Dash smirked, taking in the streamers and confetti that decorated the rafters and walls. “These decorations are SO swag.” She turned her head towards the group. “I'm gonna hit the dance floor. Since I don't expect anypony else to be able to keep up, I'll fly solo,” she challenged, moving away from the group. Braeburn raised a brow, his rarely seen competitive spirit awoken. “Ya just got yourself a pardner, pardner,” he drawled, moving after her. Applebloom strained herself, stretching her neck and body as tall as she could to attempt and see over the other party goers, to no avail. Macintosh wordlessly grabbed her with a hoof, and hoisted her up onto his neck. “Ya lookin' for yer friends?” he finally asked, once she was comfortable. “Uh-huh.” She nodded, looking over the crowd from her new vantage point. She paused a beat before cracking a smile and pointing right, towards the stairwell. “Found 'em,” she exclaimed, sliding off Macintosh's neck, and joining up with her fellow Crusaders on the stairwell. The red stallion smiled towards the filly, before looking over at the two ponies that still stood by his side. “Dunno 'bout ya'll, but I'm gonna get me a drink an park outside.” “Always the social butterfly,” AJ dryly replied. “Eyup.” He nodded, heading slowly towards the refreshments. Applejack shrugged toward the last of the group. “Guess it's jus' you and me, Tiltin',” she stated, a slight edge to her voice. “'Tis true.” He nodded, eying the library. The farmpony bit her lip, on the verge of telling the stallion what Twilight and Rarity had planned for him. “Uh, Tiltin', there's somethin' I wanted ta tell ya 'bout tonight.” “Speak freely, my comrade. Thou has mine ear,” the Knight stated, a tired smile on his face. She scratched her mane with a hoof. “If Twilight or anypony else start askin' fer stories, ya may jus' wanna keep 'em ta yerself.” His smile quickly fell. “Why, Jack?” he asked, unsure of the mare by his side. “Thou know, being in the Royal Guard thineself, that such tales lighten the heart and inspire the common pony to better oneself. Take away a guard's accomplishments, his tales, and thou would have nothing more than a blank slate adorned in the regalia of a pony.” “Ree-gee what now?” Applejack squinted, sure that word was made up. The yellow pony continued in a gentler tone. “He would be a shell, Jack. Nothing more than a puppet. A breathing puppet with no value of his own.” Before Applejack could question Tilting on what the hay he was saying, a familiar voice called to her from across the room. “AJ! Over here!” Twilight yelled, waving a hoof towards the farmpony from the entryway of the kitchen, before darting inside. The Earth pony felt a tight ball form in her stomach. “Thine friend has summoned thee, Jack. Shall we make the travel over to her station?” Tilting asked, already taking a few tentative steps forward. “Y-yeah, I guess.” AJ swallowed as she slowly, mechanically, walked through the party, past the stairs where Applebloom was playing with her friends, and into the kitchen. 000 Applejack and Tilting entered the room; AJ was far from surprised when it only held Twilight Sparkle, rummaging through her fridge, and Rarity, sitting at a circular table in the center of the room. In her hooves was a small Rolodex; she tapped it casually on the tabletop as she glanced to the side. Upon feeling a presence, she looked up and noticed the two. The white unicorn rose from the table, adjusting her groomed hair, and offering a dazzling smile. “Hello, darlings,” she cooed, her blue eyes sparkling with delight. “Howdy, Rarity,” Applejack said as she casually glanced around. It finally dawned on her that something was off. “Where's yer little helper, Twi?” “Spike? He's sick.” Twilight stated, still rummaging through the refrigerator. “Yeah,” She continued, pulling out a small bottle of milk with her magic, before slamming the door shut with her back hooves. “For some reason, the poor little guy tried to eat an egg raw yesterday. Now he's got Salmonella.” Applejack laughed nervously, drawing the attention of the other three in the room. She briskly cleared her throat, trying to appear casual. “Okay...” Rarity trailed off, raising her brow at Applejack. Her attention was quickly distracted by the overall clad stallion standing rigidly by the farmpony's side. “Applejack,” the mare said in an admonishing tone, stepping closer to the Knight. “You haven't introduced me to your friend.” “He's Tiltin' Windmills,” AJ briskly replied, turning towards the main room. “An I think we should get back ta the party, what ya say? Wanna dance?” she quickly asked, desperation in her voice. “Neigh, Jack. Thou hasn't graced me with the name of this maiden. T'would be far from civilized if I departed before being properly introduced.” “He's right, Applejack. Finish the introduction,” Rarity stated through clenched teeth, hinting subtly to her friend to play along. Subtly for Rarity, anyway. “A-alright,” AJ weakly sighed, defeated. “Tiltin', this here is my friend Rarity. Rarity Belle.” The stallion bowed deeply towards the fashion focused pony. On rising, he briskly looked her over. “Thou has a way of elegance in thine movements. Pray tell, wouldst thou perchance be a lady of the court?” Rarity blushed, batting her eyebrows flirtatiously. Applejack nearly gagged at how often her friend preformed that very same act on other stallions. “Nothing so grand, I assure you,” The white unicorn said, lightly waving a hoof. “Rather, I am merely a humble purveyor of clothing and clothing accessories.” She stopped for a moment, looking up and down the body of the diminutive stallion in front of her. “You on the other hand, I can tell are something above the common. Let me guess what your profession is, dear.” AJ sighed as Tilting puffed up with pride. Rarity was playing him like a fiddle. The unicorn shut her eyes, putting a hoof to her cheek in a facsimile of deep thought. Even Twilight gave a shake of her head at the mare's theatrics. “A Royal guard! Am I correct?” she finally exclaimed. He nodded, surprised at her answer. “'Tis true, Lady Belle.” “Please call me Rarity, darling. 'Belle' just doesn't ring well to me.” “As you wish,” he promptly agreed. The white unicorn smiled, brushing her hair to the side once more. “Well, Ser Windmills, would you care to take time from your busy schedule to regale us with some of your conquests?” He paused, sorting his words. “I will tell you a tale, if you so wish. However, thou should refrain from calling them conquests. As a Knight-Errant, thine sword should be the last thing to draw. Thine tongue can pierce steel better than a blade ever could hope to do.” The three mares shared a glance among one another, before returning their gaze to the stallion before them. “I'm sure she meant no harm, she's just eager to hear about your adventures,” Twilight diplomatically offered as she rested by the counter at the side of the room, a glass of milk levitating in a field of magic. “I have no ill feelings to the mistake, rest easy,” he stated, taking a breath. “As for a tale... let me see...” The Knight gave consideration for a moment, before perking up. “How about I tell you of my encounter with a ferocious cockatrice that held a dragon and its horde hostage inside a cave?” “Daring Doo and the Withering Gaze,” Rarity stated to Twilight as she moved away from the Knight and sat back down at the kitchen table. Twilight used her magic, levitating the Rolodex from the kitchen table, and bringing it in front of her. She briefly flipped through a few of the cards over a few sips of milk, before stopping on one. “In The Withering Gaze, Daring Doo receives a letter from a dragon asking for assistance; Daring travels to an untamed forest near the mythological city of Trotsovania to help him, and encounters a fearsome cockatrice.” Twilight took another sip of milk. “When diplomacy fails, Daring is forced to slay it using a blind fighting style that was taught to her by her companion Hoofington Rend in Daring Doo and the fate of Trotlantis. The dragon is so pleased with the rescue that he offers Daring her choice of one item from the horde. Daring chose-” “I choose a worn, dusty coin- not due to the monetary value, but due to it being a constant reminder of that fateful day,” Tilting interrupted crossly. “How marvelous!” Rarity exclaimed from her seat by the kitchen table. “Can we see it, darling?” At that, the Knight blanched slightly. “Well, when I find my home once more, I would be happy to show it to you, along with my other possessions. As of right now, though...” “You don't have it on you?” the white unicorn asked, surprise evident on her face. His complexion whitened further. “Well, no, but-” “It's just a coincidence, I suppose. You and Daring Doo sharing the same story.” Rarity easily dismissed with a small, smug smile, resting her head on her hooves. “Trotsolvania is a large land, after all. I'm sure there are other areas with dragons,” Twilight agreed, nodding her head theatrically. “Knock it off, ya'll,” AJ drawled to the two mares. “Knock what off, Applejack?” Twilight asked, feigning ignorance as she finished the last of her glass of milk. Done with the bottle, she put it back into the refrigerator, and the empty glass on top of the counter. “Yes, darling. All we're doing is asking for a story, what's the harm in that?” Rarity questioned, before returning her attention to the yellow stallion. “Tell me another one, dear.” “Very well.” He nodded, taking a seat at the table himself. “Perhaps I can enlighten you upon my fierce battle with a wendigo, all in order to procure one of Princess Celestia's golden slippers. I-” “Daring Doo and the Princess's Grace.” Rarity once more interrupted, glancing over to Twilight with a smirk. The lavender unicorn spun the Rolodex once again, selecting a card to read. “In The Princess's Grace, Daring Doo receives a letter from Princess Celestia, asking her to travel to a cavern in the far off land of Caneighda to search for her mystical slipper; stolen by a trick loving sprite. Nearly arriving there, Daring is caught in a powerful blizzard, and is forced to land. She begins to walk on foot, but is forced to wait due to near white out conditions.” 'In the middle of the night, Daring is struck from behind, rendering her unconscious. She awakens in a cave, tied upside down on a stalactite, and face to face with a wendigo, a horrific bipedal creature covered in white fur. Through a combination of luck, bravery, and skill, she defeats the creature.” She took a dreamy breath. “I loved that part.” Twilight smiled, nodding in appreciation at the memory of the book. “Yes, yes. Go on, please,” Rarity replied, anticipating Twilight's summery. “Right... Well, she realizes that this is the exact cavern Celestia asked her to search, and Daring finds that it continues deeper. After traveling down the rocky, dangerous terrain for almost half an hour, she finds an underground lake, with a small island in the center. On the strip of land was the sprite Daring had been searching for, along with the slipper. So, she-” “I challenged it to a game of riddles and wits, and won fair and square. I claimed my prize in Celestia's good name, and began the journey home,” Tilting Windmills snapped. “Prove it,” Rarity promptly replied. He gave pause to this. “Well... I did not take anything from there but the slipper and my own experience, Lady Rarity. Is my word not enough?” “It's just peculator that all your adventures have been emulated by Daring Doo. She must be quite the fan.” Rarity sniffed. Tilting shrugged. “I have not heard of this Lady Doo. Mayhaps she is a pony with no honor, only trying to steal my accomplishments.” “I sincerely doubt that, darling,” Rarity distastefully said. He gave thought briefly, considering what else to say. “Very well,” Tilting confidentially spoke. “I shall tell you of my grandest adventure to date, one this so called Daring Doo could only hope to emulate in her dreams.” “Oh? This should be good. Please continue, Ser Knight,” Rarity stated, smiling. “Come on, ya'll, ya had yer fun. Let's go back to the party,” Applejack said, the room feeling to her more and more like a bomb ready to explode. “After this tale, Jack. They we may rejoin our peers for fellowship,” Tilting remarked. He cleared his throat. “This story takes place a few years ago, during a time when I was traveling with the fair and just Celestia through these lands. Thanks to word from a former follower of Ahuizotl, we heard of a weapon powerful enough to fight the monstrous creature. A weapon that vile beast of darkness despised with every fiber of his unholy being.” He lowered his voice, looking between the three mares as if sharing a secret. “The Golden Dagger of Mambrino.” Rarity visibly flinched at mention of the name; she eyed Tilting with a wary gaze. “A weapon, that when grasped and held aloft, had the power to nullify any form of spell cast upon the carrier,” She numbly stated into her hooves, which seemed to grip the table in disbelief. Twilight raised a brow, and started to use her magic to sort through the Rolodex, before she paused. She walked over to the white unicorn and leaned towards her, whispering. “Uh, Rarity?” The violet maned mare glanced towards her friend, her expression dazed. “Hmm?” “I can't find any story like that. Do you think he's copied something besides Daring Doo stories?” “N-no,” Rarity replied, shaking her head slowly. “But, I looked through-” “You won't find that one, darling,” the white pony calmly reassured in a louder tone, still looking at the stallion sitting a table's length away from her. “Why not?” “Because...” Rarity started, only to trail off. After a long, pregnant pause, she sighed heavily. “Because I haven't finished writing it.”