//------------------------------// // 06. Aftermath // Story: Alicorn // by Aldea Donder //------------------------------// ALICORN by Aldea Donder My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is property of Hasbro, Inc. Please rate and review. CHAPTER SIX Aftermath Originally Published 5/17/2015 Retribution came on swift wings. They came through the splintered doors and windows, the combined battery of police and guards. They came with speed. They came with strength. They came with overwhelming numbers. They came with fury enough to storm the gates of hell, if that was what it took. The Thirteen were ready for them. With cold eyes and colder hearts, they lay in wait, scattered around the devastated remains of the station, lurking unseen in the dark nooks and crannies, like rats, like evil, hooded rats. They bunkered down amid the rubble, behind the ruined counters and the blind corners, waiting for the moment to arrive, waiting for the moment to strike. Then they came, those police and guards, and with them came the moment, heralded by the shatter-crash! of the glass windows and the sound of a hundred wings beating on the air. They came, and their armor glinted even in the darkness, even through the haze of smoke that went up from the concourse, littered with the bodies of the wounded and the unconscious. They came. And the Thirteen started shooting. Tristar pitched down through one of the upper windows, down into the train station, down into the hornet’s nest. All around him, crackling ribbons of magic flashed through the air like lightning. The place reeked of smoke and the electric stench of ozone. Blinking past the sting, he sought out a safe landing zone, even as another jet-black javelin of energy came screaming up, forcing him to roll narrowly out of the line of fire. Intuition and training coaxed him toward the relative safety of the west stairs. He made a beeline for them. He’d had a dozen wingponies when he flew into this hellhole, but they were all gone by now, each one threading his own separate course through the deadly lightshow. It didn’t matter. He could fend for himself. Yet as he darted through the air, he caught sight of something: a flicker of white dashing along the balcony below, side-stepping piles of rubble here and there, but still keeping pace. Tristar banked right, then flew down beside the other stallion. “ARMOR!” he called out. “WITH ME!” Shining Armor glanced up. “WITH YOU!” Tristar alighted at the top of the stairs, and Shining Armor skidded to a halt nearby. A second later, another magic missile came twirling up at them, sucking the light out of the world like a spiraling black hole. “GET DOWN!” Shining Armor shouted. He launched himself at Tristar and tackled him. The two of them hit the hard tile together. A millisecond before the blast hit, the air all around them shimmered with a magenta gloss. Shining Armor’s trademark barrier sprang up, wrapping them in a protective bubble. The pulsating energy slammed into it like a freight train. Torrential waves of obsidian crashed down all around them, obliterating the top seven or eight steps of the staircase and leaving the two of them gawking over a precipice. But the shield held. They scampered for cover, their backs against a nearby railing. “I think they mean business,” Shining Armor muttered. Tristar snorted. “Is that your strategic assessment of the situation?” “Yeah. Comes from all my years of experience dealing with insane cults.” Another beam whizzed overhead, shaving off half an inch of Tristar’s mane before it flew out the window and blew a hole in the building across the street. Tristar threw out a string of curses, but he peeked over the rim of the balcony in spite of himself and surveyed the battlefield below. Only a quick glance—then he ducked back down, taking cover again. “Seven that I can see. The one sniping at us is down in the ticket booth.” Shining Armor gave a wry smirk. “Seven? Are you sure? You never were all that good at counting, you know. Want me to double-check?” “There. Are. Seven,” Tristar replied through gritted teeth. “Hey, as long as you’re sure.” Tristar rubbed his temples. “Armor. Don’t do anything stupid. I know feats of reckless heroism are your namesake, but we’re going to have enough letters to write as it is.” “Stupid? Me?” The unicorn smiled roguishly from behind his sweat-matted blue bangs. Tristar risked one more glance over the side. The battle-scarred floor of the terminal was a picture of chaos. He recognized Noble Duty, Argent, Proudclad, and Stormheart, the exertion on their faces patently visible as they fought in the hellish glow of the fires. All four of them were in locked in hoof-to-hoof combat against a single member of the Ascendancy. It was the same story everywhere he looked. They outnumbered the enemy twenty to one, but somehow, these rabble were holding them back. And there were other faces Tristar recognized down there as well. Faces he knew. Faces he’d looked on every day, from training to the watch. And there they were. Down there on that cold, hard, undignified floor. Their eyes closed. Their bodies deathly still. He turned away. “Pincer maneuver. You go left over the top. I’ll go right.” “Sounds like a plan,” said Shining Armor. “On my mark. Three, two, one, MARK!” They sprang out from hiding, each one negotiating his own way down to the ticket booth. No sooner did Tristar’s back legs clear the railing than the air lit up with magic, beam after beam bulleting up at him. He was eighty feet away, now seventy, now sixty. Tristar dodged nimbly out of the way, and a torrent of energy flew past him, splattering against the wall, burning a circular hole in it like some kind of weird demonic bile. Now forty feet. Now thirty! The air whistled in his ears. Twenty feet! Ten! He was almost there—! And then the explosion happened. The shockwave picked him up and flung him like a ragdoll. He sailed across the room, his chest impacted on the stairs, and a wrenching pain shot through his barrel and ripped the breath out of his lungs. The whole world went orange in the blinding light of the flash. He lay there for a moment, nursing his injury, trying to hear past the ringing in his ears and shielding himself against the scalding glare. Uneasily, he pulled himself up to sitting. Clutching at his ribs and breathing in shallow rasps, he looked out across the smoking battlefield. His mouth dropped in horror. Time seemed to slow down to a standstill. Shining Armor’s limp body was dangling in mid-air, caught in the same detonation that had thrown Tristar. The blast had torn off his helmet, and his head was tipped down on a collision path with the hard, unyielding floor. Time started up again. There was a deafening CRACK! that Tristar’s ears latched on to from halfway across the concourse. Even surrounded by the din and mayhem, with his own heart pounding in his ears—he heard it clear as day. The sound of Shining Armor’s skull as it whammed against the ground. His body crumpled, and he lay there, still. The color drained out of Tristar’s face. “No… No…” But the word was voiceless, drowned out by the battle raging all around. The battle didn’t care about the innocent souls it threw down or the lives it shattered. The battle was loud… and unapologetic. “NO!” Tristar shot up off the ground, ignoring the pain that blazed in his ribs like a burning stake. He galloped past the fallen bodies of so many of his comrades, over to the tall, gilded windows of the ticket booth, so steeped in elegance and grace and a million other things that were completely at odds with this moment, HIS moment—the moment when he would lay down his wrath on the bastard behind that counter. He did a running leap, skidding to a halt on the other side. The enemy was there, and evidently caught off-balance as he stared at Tristar with wide, turquoise eyes. Tristar pulled back his hoof and slammed it into the cultist as hard as he could—and into that blow, he poured all his hatred, all his rage, and the memory of everypony who had perished— But the blow didn’t connect. A shimmering red force field crackled around the pony, encapsulating him like a sphere. Tristar stared in slack-jawed confusion. His opponent began to chuckle. A low, guttural, menacing sound. Again and again, Tristar bashed the magic shield with both forehooves, to no effect. The disciple’s laughter turned into a cackle. Then, before Tristar could blink, an invisible force seized him, lifted him up, and threw him into the wall. His body broke against the stone. As he slid to the floor, his vision began to swim. He stared straight ahead, and his eyes took in the fetlocks of the other pony, standing smugly above him. He lay there, helpless, unable to defend himself. All he could do was wonder—how had it come to this? How could a life—any life— be cut down so easily? And all he could think of was his wife and children, their faces bobbing on the tide of his memory… The cultist’s horn began to glow a malevolent black. Before it could go off, a dazzling light lit up the booth, and Sage Whitehoof appeared. He stood between Tristar and his nemesis, his hoof wrapped around a silver staff. For once, he didn’t have a smile on his face. For once, Tristar was glad to see him. “Cease this foolishness,” said Sage. His voice was sober, filled with a gravity it seldom knew. “Princess Celestia will be here soon. If you surrender, I promise there will be mercy.” The cultist laughed. “You would stand in our way, ancient one?” “I can, and I will.” “I’ll make you regret it. With every fiber of your being, with every—” Before he could finish the sentence, another blinding flash of light went out from Sage. It washed over the other pony, who stepped back and raised his hoof defensively in front of him. Then the glow subsided, and the place became dim again. Nothing obvious had happened. The cultist’s laughter came spilling out. “Is that the best you can do? Shine a little light from your horn?” Sage only smirked. The cultist went right on chuckling. “That’s hardly impressive! Even a school filly is capable of—OOF!” The silver staff planted in his gut, and he doubled over. This time, there wasn’t a force field to protect him. Sage brought the staff to bear once more. With one final thwack to the head, the disciple collapsed and didn’t move. The old archmage smiled and offered to help Tristar off the ground. Tristar sneered at his outstretched hoof, as if it were a snake. Ignoring it, he struggled to a shaky stance. “My friend,” said Sage, “perhaps you should—” Tristar burst into a coughing fit. He raised a hoof to cover his mouth, and his arm came away stained with blood. “—take it easy,” Sage finished with a grimace. Tristar wiped his mouth. “Where the hell is Celestia?” He glanced frantically out the ticket booth window. Dozens of his brothers were still fighting for their lives, throwing themselves against the magic barriers on the other insurrectionists like waves against the rocks. “She’s here,” said Sage. Tristar frowned. “Where?” “Here. Breathing life into the fallen. While their hearts beat, while the spark of life still glimmers inside them, they can yet be revived. Time is of the essence in what she does.” “My men are dying out there!” Tristar yelled. “Where the hell is she?” “Quell your anxieties, Daedalus. Nopony is going to die today. As soon as she has cast her blessing upon those in need, Celestia will be here to—” “ENOUGH!” The battle ended with a single word. A golden light poured through the windows, driving away the darkness in a triumphant blaze of glory. It was as if the sun itself suddenly reached down from the heavens and swept aside the shadowy curtain that surrounded the place. It shook the walls until plaster dust rained from the ceiling, and it snatched up the members of the Ascendancy, and it slammed them down against the floor, their magic shields fizzling around them. Then a majestic pillar of flame went up from the center of the station. Twin tendrils of fire spiraled up and around it, streaking ever faster, drawing thinner and thinner with each revolution until finally, they flew together over the top of the inferno and collapsed to a point—and from out of that point, there shined such a brilliant beacon of light that Tristar and Sage and everypony else had to shield their eyes and look away. When the light died down and they looked back again, there stood Celestia, surrounded by a burning halo of fire. Every smoldering step she took seemed to communicate just how royally pissed off she was. Her gaze fell on one of the cultists, lying in a heap near what was left of the eastern staircase. She stormed over, placed her hoof on him, and rolled him over onto his back. “Who are you?” she demanded. He didn’t say a word. He only sneered. It didn’t take long for their remaining forces to realize the Ascendancy was down for the count. The guards and police officers bowed low in honor of their princess, as was their custom. The ones who were still standing did, anyway. Sage magicked open the ticket booth door and strolled across the scorched and pockmarked concourse to meet her. Tristar staggered out after him, doing his best to ignore the warm trickle of blood down his brow. “Your Majesty, the Ascendancy is defeated,” said Sage. Celestia gave him a nod, then directed a glare at the masses of genuflecting guards. “What are you all doing? Stop wasting time and help the wounded! Our people need medical attention!” It didn’t take any more urging than that. They snapped into action at once, and the whole place fell back into an uproar as the able-bodied rushed to the aid of the fallen. It was all just a dull roar in Tristar’s ears. A peculiar humming that seemed to grow louder as the whole world slowed to a crawl, and a weariness crept into his distant, glazed-over eyes. He watched in a daze as a team of guards sprinted to where Shining Armor lay in a slumped, unmoving pile. One of them called for a stretcher. “…ain Tristar? Did you hear me?” The sound of his own name yanked Tristar out of his stupor. He snapped to attention. “Yes, Your Majesty?” Maybe it was the wobble in his stance, or the red runnels seeping down his forehead. Whatever the case, Celestia paid him a sympathetic look. “You’re hurt, Captain Tristar.” “I’ll be fine,” he muttered. “What’s the enemy’s status?” Sage looked down at the mute Ascendant. “Neutralized.” “Neither he nor any of his comrades are going anywhere,” said Celestia, her voice hot with anger. “I expect you to take charge of this situation, Sage. See that they’re detained and properly interrogated.” “Shall I take them into royal custody?” “No. Transporting them to Canterlot would only create spectacle, and we’ve had enough of that for one day. Leave them to the local authorities. It’s the least I can do for Mayor Fairmane after the assistance she’s rendered.” “Of course, Your Majesty,” said Sage. Celestia gave Tristar a somber look. “Go home, Captain.” Tristar stiffened. “I won’t abandon my post.” “Your obligations are fulfilled. Your honor is secure. Go home to your family. There’s no need to give them cause for worry.” “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I’d sooner chop off my own wings than leave before every one of my men is accounted for,” he said, his face hardening. “My job’s not finished yet.” Just then, they heard something. A cough. Tiny, almost imperceptible, smothered beneath a pile of concrete and jutting rebar. Celestia and Sage shared a look of wide-eyed surprise. Their horns flared, and the debris shifted. The filly they uncovered was out cold. Her white coat was caked with soot, and all of the spring had gone out of her lilac mane. Her little hoof was hooked around the haunch of a brawny, platinum-colored stallion, who was still mostly buried under the wreckage but for his leg and the trio of footballs on his flank. With another shimmer of magic, they unearthed him, too. Celestia’s eyes flew wide. “MEDIC!” Tristar called. “NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!” “Your Majesty? Do you know these ponies?” asked Sage. The princess didn’t respond, but the look of pained recognition on her face answered Sage’s question well enough. A pair of medics rushed over and began tending to the stallion, who looked to be the more injured of the two. Meanwhile, Celestia kneeled down beside the wounded girl, stroking her mane with a gentle hoof. Sweetie Belle stirred at the touch. “Ra… rity...” she whimpered. Celestia bowed her head. “Captain Tristar,” she said. Her voice shook with barely contained emotion. “If your honor demands it… then I have one more duty for you to fulfill. A very important one.” Tristar stepped forward. “Your Majesty?” “This is Sweetie Belle and her father, Hondo. I want you to accompany them to a hospital, and as soon as they’re able to travel, escort them to their home in Ponyville. Make sure they’re well taken care of.” “I—of course, Princess.” “Call in extra guards. I don’t want any more surprises for them on the way.” Tristar bowed. “Thy will be done.” “And Sage,” Celestia said, rage crackling behind her pink eyes. “I want you to make a full investigation. I will not allow my subjects’ lives to be so endangered. Take as much time as you need away from the Academy and bring me answers. There will be consequences. There will be punishment.” Sage nodded. Without a moment’s pause, he stuck a hoof between his lips and blew. The whistle was so loud, it stopped nearly everypony in the room. The guards looked at him expectantly. “First and second companies, commence post-operations! Report anything suspicious to your commanders, and commanders, bring those reports to ME! I want a full head count: theirs, ours, and civilians! I want to know the WHEN of it! I want to know the HOW of it! I want NAMES! I want DESCRIPTIONS! I want to know which train they came in on! All other companies, continue to render medical assistance and provide support to first responders as they come in the door! BACK TO IT!” They flew into action at once. Tristar shifted on his hooves. His lip couldn’t help but curl to see the ponies under his command scurry around at the old fool’s beck and call. He looked at Sage, and he scowled. Down on the floor, Sweetie Belle kicked out and gave a little sob. She buried her head between her forehooves as a trembling racked her body, clearly in the throes of a nightmare. A tear slipped down Celestia’s cheek. She smoothed the girl’s disheveled hair and leaned over her. A serene, golden glow emanated from her horn as it drew near to Sweetie Belle’s anguished face. Sweetie Belle ceased her struggle and relaxed into Celestia’s arms. Celestia gazed down at her, her royal brow creased with sorrow and regret. She brushed a matted lock off Sweetie Belle’s face, and then she whispered into her ear: “May you have only sweet dreams from now on.” Decades ago, when the architects raised up their vision on the downtown metropolitan soil, they poured their hearts and souls into Grand Central. They gave it its elegant sculptures. Its gold-plated chandeliers, flashing at every turn. Its limestone walls, like smooth butter. Its running floors of marble, like creamy lakes of milk. And one more thing: an enchanted ceiling. They summoned the top mages in the kingdom to work their magic, transforming the banal slab overhead into the spitting image of the night sky. A thousand years prior, Nightmare Moon might have taken some solace in the knowledge that one day, ponies from all walks of life would converge here, at this station, beneath her cosmic sphere. That every morning, her constellations would shine down upon the masses. That every evening, as the tired multitudes made the journey home by train, they would glance up to see the stars above them. Like faraway lanterns, signaling hope. But now the sculptures had shattered, the chandeliers had fallen, and great cracks ran across the floors and up the walls, from whence the daylight spilled in careless, unsympathetic shafts. The whole place was destroyed. All except the enchanted ceiling. By miracle, luck, or ill intent, the artificial night plastered across the vaulted roof had come out completely unscathed. Not a single beam of magic had struck it. The stars winked in and out. Voiceless observers, harboring secrets. Sage Whitehoof leaned on his staff and looked up at them in silence. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Excerpt from the Canterlot Sun, Tuesday, May 21st, Late Edition: MANEHATTAN SMOLDERS AS EQUESTRIA LOOKS INWARD FOR ANSWERS The choking black smoke has cleared above Grand Central Terminal, the site of Friday’s unprecedented magical attack, but questions regarding the incident continue to swirl in the air. Four days after insurrectionists swarmed Manehattan’s downtown commuter hub, raining down untold terror and destruction, the initial shock has turned to anger. Citizens far and wide have raised their voices in a call for justice. On Saturday, the Manehattan magistrate’s office moved ahead with arraignments for the thirteen suspects currently in police custody. Crown judicial officials were quick to offer their support, with the High Justiciar pledging Canterlot’s full cooperation with local authorities in the ensuing investigation and trial. These promises come as the Crown faces uncommon criticism for its failure to foil the attack, the first of its kind in over a century. Prominent members of the Highborn, Thoroughbred, and Right Venerable factions of the High Court, who together constitute nearly half of the titled nobility, were quick to offer censure over the weekend. Today, they were joined by their Bluestocking allies in Parliament. Shadow Chancellor Gilt Garland said in a prepared statement: “It is Princess Celestia’s sovereign duty to protect the weak and innocent. That is her most sacred charge, and one that’s obviously fallen on stony ground of late. This bungled effort to safeguard our people is yet another example of the Crown’s recent inadequacy. We’ve seen this kind of weakness more and more since the return of Nightmare Moon. Princess Celestia just isn’t the aegis she used to be.” Royalists and members of the Popular Coalition offered stern rebuke, accusing Mr. Garland of capitalizing on a tragedy in order to further his party’s electoral prospects and legislative ambitions. The acrimony marks a new low in relations between the ruling chancellery and the aristocracy since the falling-out last August, when the Bluestockings’ proposed tax cut on noble estates failed to advance in a floor vote. Lord Brilliant, a luminary of the Right Venerable faction and one of Mr. Garland’s chief supporters on the High Court, added his voice to the growing chorus of criticism. “I, for one, find it disgraceful! The people of Equestria deserve better from their leaders. Do you know the fighting went on for ten minutes before Princess Celestia bothered to show up and put a stop to it? Ten whole minutes! That’s unacceptable!” Further controversy has stemmed from the suspects’ rumored affiliation with the Ascendancy of the Night, a fanatical underground order, which appears to be singularly devoted to the overthrow of Princess Celestia and the elevation of Nightmare Moon to the throne. Princess Luna hasn’t been seen in public since before the incident and was unavailable for comment, but Palace spokesponies have loudly dismissed popular theories about her involvement in the incident. Over one hundred ponies were injured in Friday’s terrorist attack, of whom over half remain hospitalized, though by a stroke of good fortune, no fatalities occurred. The Port Authority has estimated the damage to Grand Central at a staggering eighty million bits. Reconstruction is scheduled to begin next month, and is expected to be bankrolled in part by the Crown’s considerable largesse. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Twilight tore her eyes away from the newspaper dispenser, unable to bring herself to read another word. A vacant look was on her face, and her emotions were in the grip of a hollow emptiness. Numbly, lethargically, she turned her gaze back to the vending machine in front of her, teeming with bright, happy bags of empty calories and sugar-sweet delights. She fed another dozen bits into the coin slot, then mashed the buttons with her hoof, not particularly caring which number she happened to punch in. The mechanism whirred and dropped a bounty of junk food into the bin as she hung her head. How could it have come to this? How could any of this have happened? It didn’t seem possible. Not in Equestria. Not in her Equestria. Twilight felt a familiar ball of grief ping-pong off the cavernous walls of her heart. She tamped down on a sob. Shining Armor… She stooped to gather the snacks from out of the vending machine, tucking them away in her saddlepack. As she straightened back up, her eyes tripped over the blaring headline on the newspaper again. A thundercloud of ire descended over her. How could anypony possibly blame Princess Celestia for what happened in Manehattan? She was the one who stopped the bad guys, wasn’t she? Didn’t that matter to anypony? She fumed. Apparently not. Apparently, there were a whole lot of ponies out there who didn’t care one bit about how amazing Princess Celestia was. Or how much of her own sweat and blood Princess Celestia poured into keeping Equestria safe every single day. All her life, Twilight had made a purposeful effort to stay out of the fray of politics. That wasn’t to say it never came knocking on her door. When you were the protégé of the princess, it was inevitable, sometimes. But she never enjoyed it. It was always frustrating. Of course, she knew freedom of the press was an important pillar of a free society, and it was essential for ponies to be able to question and criticize their leaders. But these ponies were such scumbags! Morality wasn’t important, facts weren’t important. All that mattered was advancing some self-serving agenda. Anything and everything was ripe to be exploited. They’d hitch their wagons to any disaster, any controversy—and they didn’t care who got trampled under the wheels, as long as made them a little richer, a little more powerful. How could anypony be so despicable? How could anypony treat somepony else so horribly, with so much disregard? Her shoulders drooped. But then, what kind of question was that? The High Court and their minions in the government and the press were repulsive, sure. But what did they have on this… this Ascendancy? On ponies who would deliberately attack the innocent with intent to injure, maim, and kill? Not even Discord had been as monstrous as that. No, she had seen the worst that equinity had to offer, and it wasn’t even a week in the rear-view mirror. With a forlorn sigh, Twilight adjusted the straps on her saddlepack, turned, and trudged away. It was a brand-new world she was living in now, and all she could do was face it. Cadance was still slumped in the bedside sofa when she got back to the room, her pink pegasus wings pulled tight against her body. Twilight Velvet’s gray hoof was wrapped around her, and Night Light was mostly keeping to himself some ways away, a thousand-yard stare affixed to his face. Shining Armor, of course, hadn’t moved. They said it was a medically induced coma. They said he’d actually regained consciousness briefly when they first brought him in—though exactly how lucid he’d been at the time was another question. He needed this, they said, to reduce the intracranial pressure. The squeeze put on his brain by the swelling and the edema. It was to help him heal. Twilight understood that. She understood all the science and the medicine underlying it. She knew, right now, that his veins were gushing with thiopental, and it was the drug that was keeping him under. Not the concussion that was to blame for all this. That didn’t change the reality that neither she nor her family had seen him awake since the attack in Manehattan. Under the circumstances, it was hard to peel those things apart. There was a soul-crushing dread hanging over them all, even if the doctor’s prognosis was cautiously optimistic. The heart rate monitor beeped. The ventilator clicked and whooshed. The IV bag hung above Shining Armor like a lifegiving fruit. Twilight traipsed over to where Cadance and her mother were seated. Her saddlepack rustled as she flicked open the canvas cover and started distributing the loot. “Let’s see. I got… four bags of potato chips. Some pretzels, cookies, granola bars…” Her eyes flicked up. “Anything?” Cadance didn’t take her eyes off Shining Armor. “Thank you, Twilight, but I don’t think I can eat right now,” she said miserably. Twilight’s mother gave her a sad, albeit encouraging smile, and a tiny shake of her head. She sighed and continued to rifle through her pack. “Dad? You want some Prongles? They’re stackable, shaped like a hyperbolic paraboloid, and… erm…” She squinted at the cannister. “Pizza-flavored.” “No thanks, sweetie.” A grimace brought down Twilight’s face. Defeated, she dropped her bags by the side of the bed and crawled onto the couch beside her mother and Cadance, resting her head against Twilight Velvet. A few minutes passed in silence. “He should be here with us right now,” Cadance mumbled at length. Twilight Velvet looked at her softly. “He is here with us.” “You know what I mean.” “Cadance…” Twilight Velvet reached out and gently took her hoof. Cadance turned her pain-clouded eyes to look at her. “He’s going to come out of this. My son’s too much of a fighter to go quietly into that good night. He’ll pull through.” “He should never have been hurt in the first place! He shouldn’t have to go through this. None of us should!” A short stretch of silence followed as Twilight Velvet considered her words. Twilight looked up at her mother blearily. “All of us have our part to play,” she said at last. “My son’s part is to be a hero. It’s never been an easy path to walk—not for the ponies who are brave enough to walk it, nor their loved ones, who walk it with them… But Night Light and I knew that when he signed up for the Guard.” She sent her husband a little smile, which he returned. “I know.” Cadance said. “That’s what I love so much about him.” “And he loves you, Cadance. More than anything, he loves you.” Twilight Velvet beamed at Shining Armor as he lay unmoving on the bed, her face aglow with so much love and pride. Softly, reassuringly, she began to stroke Cadance’s mane. “And that’s the other reason why I’m so sure he’ll come back to us. He loves you so much, Cadance. More than anything else in the world, he loves you. He loves you too much to leave you.” “He asked me to marry him,” Cadance said in a trembling whisper. Twilight Velvet sucked in her breath. Evidently, that news hadn’t made the rounds yet. She sniffled and mopped her tears. Then she embraced Cadance in a fierce hug. “He’ll find his way back to you. I have faith.” Cadance’s eyes glistened. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “Thank you.” Time slipped by, and not another word was spoken among them. The four of them lapsed into silence again. Twilight didn’t mind. She wouldn’t have known what to say, even if she had been in a mood to chat. Three days, she’d been sitting here in Canterlot Hospital, helping her family keep a round-the-clock vigil. Three days, and the cupboards had long since run bare of things to talk about. Nopony felt like talking. Nopony even wanted to be here, except that leaving Shining Armor to suffer by himself in a medical ward seemed like such an awful thing to do. But Twilight was just about at her breaking point. Her brain felt like mush. Her emotions were raw, worn down to the nub. Her mom and dad had told her at least a dozen times that she didn’t need to be here. That they would send her a letter straight away if her brother’s condition improved, and in the meantime, she should go to Ponyville and see her friends. She felt guilty for even considering it. But after languishing here for so long, the idea was more and more tempting by the hour. Cadance was right. This wasn’t fair. Shining Armor shouldn’t be hurt right now. He should be laughing. He should be smiling. He should be up and about, awake and happy. Twilight loved him so much. She knew Cadance loved him so much. The two of them should be picking out the date for their wedding, looking forward to a wonderful future together, not… whatever this was. Suffering apart, in loneliness and in fear. Wasting away in this sterile, claustrophobic box. And she should have her big brother to lean on. Her big brother, who taught her how to fly a kite… Who was always there for her, no matter what… Who knew all her hopes, all her dreams… There was a knock at the door. Four pairs of eyes lifted. “Come in?” Twilight Velvet said. The door opened. In walked none other than Princess Celestia herself. A pair of guards were standing post in the hall outside, and they quickly shut the door behind her to give the family privacy. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” she said. “I came just as soon as I could pull myself away.” “Auntie Celestia!” Cadance was instantly on her hooves. Quicker than lightning, she charged across the room, burying her face in the alicorn’s chest. Twilight also stood up out of respect, though she made no move to rush the princess. Something told her to let Cadance have this moment. The sight was so moving, she felt her heart drop out of her ribcage and shatter against the floor: Cadance, crying into her great aunt’s coat. Princess Celestia, softly cradling her, stroking the back of her head. “Shh… I know, Cadance. I know…” They stayed that way for over a minute. Then at last, Princess Celestia walked her back over to the rest of the family, a sympathetic hoof draped around her. Cadance took a seat on the bed next to Shining Armor. Twilight waited for the princess to acknowledge her with a nod, and then she sat back down as well. “There’s nothing I can say that could make this situation any better, any less terrible,” Princess Celestia addressed them, looking somberly from one pony to the next. “But I hope you won’t hold it too much against me if I ask… How are you all holding up?” Twilight Velvet answered for the group. “We’re taking it day by day. It’s hard, and I don’t think any of us are truly all right, but… it is what it is, Your Majesty. We’ll get through it.” “Is there anything you need? Anything I can provide that would ease some of the burden on you and your family?” “I don’t think so. The hospital staff has been gracious, and the other guards have been more than kind.” Twilight Velvet looked at her son warmly. “It’s clear how much respect they have for him.” Princess Celestia’s lips twitched upward. “Well, that isn’t surprising. Captain Armor has made an impression on quite a few of the men under his command. That’s just his way.” She hesitated. “The doctors tell me they expect him to be all right, though obviously, there are no guarantees. I just… I want to let you know how much I honor him. How much I honor you all, for the sacrifices you’ve made. The willing ones, and the unwilling ones. We’re fortunate to live in a peaceful world where tragedies like this don’t happen often anymore—but when they do happen, it takes somepony with real character, real courage, to put their life on the line and be a shield for the innocent. That’s who Shining Armor is. That’s your son.” “Thank you, Princess,” said Twilight Velvet. “You know, I was thinking about the first time I met him, and how much he impressed me. I know it’s no substitute for having him awake again, but… if you care to hear the story, I’ll be happy to share it with you.” She glanced about the narrow room. There weren’t any arguments. Not from Twilight and her mother on the couch, nor from Night Light off to the side. Nor from Cadance, who was hovering protectively over her fiancé, peering dolefully at up at her auntie. “It was quite a number of years ago,” Princess Celestia began her tale, pausing to regard the bedridden unicorn with kindly eyes. “Shining Armor was sixteen at the time, and he had only just completed his schooling and started working toward his vocation. He was inducted into the Canterlot Regimental Academy as a cadet. The program was intensive: ten hours a day, five days a week. To top it off, each morning, he would show up to the barracks an hour early, and each afternoon, he would stay an hour late.” Twilight found herself leaning forward. Her ears perked up, eager to gorge themselves on whatever warm memories the princess had to offer; on whatever sunshine she had to bestow. “It happened, one morning, that Shining Armor and one of his fellow cadets were standing post on the castle grounds, shooting the breeze. Standing post, it turned out, underneath a balcony I happened to be perched on at the time, and so I overheard the conversation. “The other cadet asked him, ‘Why do you show up so early?’ To which, our Shining Armor answered—to make a good impression. He was in the habit of arriving before the dawn to make sure his uniform was neatly pressed, and his plate and shield were polished to a mirror finish. ‘But why do you stay so late?’ came the next question, and Shining Armor replied—because there are always little things that need doing, here and there. Training fields in need of tidying, and equipment to be put away. “Now, this bootlicking didn’t impress me much. I’ve been around for more than a thousand years, and in that time, I’ve known many a yipping young pup on the pant leg of opportunity—” Cadance snorted, a pink hoof pressed to her lips. Even Twilight Velvet and Night Light looked amused at the description. “—but what the two of them talked about next did impress me.” Princess Celestia smiled serenely as she tipped her head to Shining Armor. “You see, even after he hung up his helmet at the end of the day, he wasn’t done yet. He would continue to do odd jobs around town well into the evening hours, running errands and making deliveries for a few extra bits on the side. When the other cadet asked why, he gave two reasons.” Her gaze turned to Cadance. “First, because there was a pony in his life who was very special to him, and whom he loved very, very much. Even though she was a princess and a member of the nobility, he wanted to be able to give the world to her, because she meant the world to him.” Cadance swiped at her eyes, but the tears came anyway, welling from deep inside her and spilling down her cheeks. She sniffled, then put on a wistful smile, peering down at her beloved through the mist and pain. She took his limp hoof in her own and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Now Princess Celestia looked at Twilight. “And second, because there was a little filly whom he cared for just as much. His eight-year-old sister, who had only recently passed her entrance exam and come to stay with him in Canterlot while she completed her first term. It was up to him to provide for her, with a little extra help from his parents. And it was a responsibility he wouldn’t shrink from.” This time, it was Twilight’s turn to cry. Those first couple semesters living in Canterlot. Being away from her mom and dad for the first time. How homesick she’d felt, and how scared. But he was right there to protect her, with a place to stay and a bed to jump on. Sometimes, he’d even jump with her. Her big brother best friend forever. Her knight in shining armor. The tears streamed down her face, unbidden. She felt a hoof slip around her shoulders and realized it was Twilight Velvet, hugging her snug against her side. Nestling into the warm safety of her mother’s coat, she gazed sorrowfully up at Princess Celestia and let herself be carried away by her mentor’s soft voice and sweet recollections. “Well, that was the end of my eavesdropping that day. I had other important things to do, so I left them to it. It was a few weeks before I heard the rest of the story from one of Shining Armor’s instructors. It wasn’t that his performance had begun to suffer; only that he started coming into drill more tired, less energetic than he had been before. The instructor noticed, and he pulled Shining Armor aside and asked to know why. “It turned out, the other cadet—the one he’d been talking to on the grounds that day—had fallen on some hard times. His father back in San Franciscolt had been suddenly and unexpectedly laid off, through no fault of his own. And San Franciscolt is not a cheap place to live.” Princess Celestia’s eyes glowed with pride and affection. She gestured at the sleeping unicorn, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you know, Shining Armor had such a generous soul, he gave all the bits he’d earned to his friend’s family, to help them weather the bad times until they found their footing again? It meant he had to work twice as hard! Overnight on weekends, too! “Here’s the thing, though. Even though he was tired and exhausted, he never stopped coming in early to make sure his gear was spick and span, nor staying late to help with the putting away. And he never put aside his commitments to his loved ones—to Princess Cadance, or to Twilight. He didn’t compromise on anything, because that’s the kind of pony Shining Armor is. And when I found all this out, that’s when I knew I wanted him for captain.” There wasn’t a dry eye all around. For a brief spell, the room was quiet, but for that steady beep, and that click-whoosh, and Cadance, softly crying. Night Light volunteered to step forward. He gave the princess a cordial dip of his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Princess Celestia nodded. Her smile shrank a bit as she finished recounting the tale, and Shining Armor’s family floated back down to earth; back down to bleak reality. Even so, she looked between Night Light and Twilight Velvet with a golden reverence. “I want to tell you how much I admire you both,” she spoke quietly. “You’ve raised two remarkable children.” In spite of all her other churning emotions, Twilight felt a blush creep onto her face at the praise. She heard her mother chuckle beside her, and felt those wonderful hooves give her a loving squeeze. “Oh, believe us, we know!” Twilight Velvet said. “And we know Shining Armor is going to be all right, too. Thank you for everything you’ve done, Your Majesty.” “You’re very welcome.” The princess hesitated for a moment. Her happiness dissipated. “I really wish I could stay here with you all,” she murmured. “Unfortunately, there’s still a mess in Manehattan I need to sort out… and Shining Armor wasn’t the only soldier wounded in the line of duty there, it pains me to say. There are several more families I need to meet with yet before I head out east again.” “We understand, Your Majesty,” said Twilight Velvet. Princess Celestia looked at her imploringly. “If you need anything—” “—we’ll know who to come to.” Another nod from the solemn-faced alicorn. Then Princess Celestia sent a meaningful look at her many-times great-grandniece, who was still on the bed, hovering over Shining Armor and clasping his hoof in hers. “Cadance…?” “I’ll… I’ll be fine, Auntie Celestia,” Cadance’s voice quivered. She glanced up, those amethyst eyes still glimmering with tears—and also, an ember of burning, impassioned conviction. Just as quickly, her gaze flicked down to Shining Armor again. She sniffled once. Twice. Then, in a sudden move, she unfurled one of her wings and buried her face in her plumage. Her teeth clenched around a bright pink primary feather, which she fervently coaxed out. Grasping the thing in her mouth, she lowered her head over Shining Armor and tucked it gingerly behind his ear. “I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” She looked up at the others with steadfast resolve. “Life’s full of challenges you’ve got to overcome, right? This is only one of them. Shining Armor and I will get through it. I know we will. And we’ll be together forever—till death do us part.” She leaned over him again, and she kissed him gently on the forehead. Princess Celestia’s slippered hooves clicked against the tile as she made her exit down the corridor, guards flanking her on either side. Twilight quietly followed her out into the hall, closing the door behind her. She stared after the princess with longing. “P-Princess Celestia?” The princess stopped. Turned. Her eyes were about as sad as Twilight could ever remember seeing them. She hung her head in remorse. “My faithful student,” she said. Twilight was barely even aware of herself. One second, she was standing by her lonesome, nursing her stricken heart. The next, her hooves were pounding down the hallway. She threw her arms around the princess, spilling all her grief and anguish into her chest. “Twilight…” Celestia’s voice broke. “I’m so, so sorry.” A whimper fell out of Twilight as the princess embraced her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot out reality, but all she could see was Shining Armor, lying in that bed. “It’s okay to cry, Twilight.” Twilight peered up at her mentor, eyes shimmering. She was amazed to see Princess Celestia’s eyes shimmering back. “It’s okay to cry. Right now, it’s the healthiest thing you can do, as long as you remember—you don’t ever need to cry alone.” “I… I know,” said Twilight. “I’m sorry for what happened to him. I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t stop it. You of all ponies deserved better.” The princess visibly wilted. A shameful tear ran down her cheek and broke against the floor. Twilight stared up at her, aghast. “N-No!” she exclaimed. “Princess, it’s not your fault! You did everything you could!” “Maybe… Maybe…” Doubt rolled over Princess Celestia’s face as she pulled away, but she swept it aside, if only for her student’s sake. “Twilight, do you intend to stay here much longer?” Now it was Twilight’s turn to look guilty. She stared down at her hooves. “I don’t know. I feel terrible leaving my brother like this, and Cadance and the rest of my family too, but… It’s been days now, and all we do is sit in that room. I’m not sure how much more of it I can take.” “I won’t presume to tell you what to do. It’s your choice to make, and there’s no wrong answer. But the magic of friendship is made for times like these, when the world seems dark and full of treachery.” “There’s still Rainbow Dash too, right?” Twilight mumbled. “You wanted me to teach her magic. That’s why you summoned me to Canterlot.” Princess Celestia pursed her lips. “If you need something to strive for—something to take your mind off this horrible tragedy—then I’m sure Rainbow Dash would appreciate your tutelage, and I can think of no finer teacher. But what’s most important right now is your well-being, my student.” Twilight nodded her head glumly. “Thank you, Princess.” “If you go, go with guard protection. The others, I’m not as worried about— but you and Rainbow Dash need to be kept safe. Look out for each other. Don’t do anything reckless.” Princess Celestia pulled her in for a parting embrace. “Even the sun shines on the back of a cloud sometimes. As terrible as these days have been, as dark as things may seem—this, I swear: the dawn will come again. You’re strong, Twilight. You’re one of the strongest ponies I’ve ever met. Never doubt yourself.” She nuzzled Twilight affectionately. And Twilight was assured. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ The rain came down on Ponyville. It came down hard. Rainbow lingered back, separate from the others, and peered out the foggy second-story window. Outside, beyond the panes of water-flecked glass, the sky boomed and rumbled. Puddles of water splashed against the embankment of the cross-emblazoned hospital sign, and rumpled, greenish clouds slid eastward over a horizon of thatched-roof houses. If nothing else, she could take some comfort in knowing Derpy was doing a bang-up job on weather. Still, Rainbow couldn’t help but dwell on how totally messed up this all was. The world had gone insane. That was all there was to it. That was the reason why psychopaths were running around blowing up train stations, and why she was back in this miserable, stuffy room at Ponyville General for the second time in two weeks. She peered across the way. Most of her other friends were gathered around Sweetie Belle’s hospital bed: Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and—of course— Rarity, who was doing her best impression of a mother hen, nervously fretting and squawking about this and that. All things considered, Sweetie Belle had come out of the woods a heck of a lot better than a lot of other ponies had. The doctors were still holding her over for observation, but it was plain to see she was going to be fine. That was a huge help, and it did a lot to reduce the stress on everypony. The atmosphere was still tense in the aftermath of everything that had happened, but a whole lot less so than it might have been otherwise. Of course, that didn’t stop Rarity from obsessing— “Oh, Sweetie Belle, are you all right?” “Yes, Rarity, I’m fine!” Rainbow couldn’t help rolling her eyes. It was probably the bazillionth time Rarity had asked. Applejack must have been thinking the same thing, because she chimed in just then. “Sugarcube, Sweetie Belle’s plum dandy. Matter of fact, she’d be even better without you clingin’ to her like a cowpony to a rodeo bull. Why don’t you give her a little space?” “Let go of my dear Sweetie Belle? How dare you even suggest such a thing!” Sweetie Belle choked as Rarity put her in another stranglehold. “Rarity! Can’t… breathe!” “Oh, Sweetie Belle! My poor, poor, poor, poor injured sister! I’ll never, ever, ever let you go!” It didn’t look like she was about to. Rarity was latched on to Sweetie Belle so tightly, it would’ve taken a pile driver to come between them. Naturally, that didn’t deter Pinkie Pie. Faster than a speeding cupcake, she popped up from outta nowhere, shoving her face right up against Sweetie Belle and ogling her with an enormous, bulging eye. “Jeeze-Louise, Rarity! Maybe you’re right! Maybe she is injured! Her face is turning all bluey-bluey-blue!” It took Rarity a second to process that. Then she let go. Sweetie Belle gasped and collapsed back onto the bed, hooves splayed out, wheezing as she sucked in desperate lungfuls of air. “I dunno about the whole ‘poor, poor, poor, poor’ part, though,” said Pinkie, tapping her chin. “I don’t think Sweetie Belle is really all that poor. Are you poor, Sweetie Belle? Because OHMYGOSH, if you are, you TOTALLY have to come stay with me and the Cakes at Sugarcube Corner!” Applejack laid a hoof on her shoulder. “Pinkie Pie, the bakery’s undergoin’ reconstruction right now, remember?” “DON’T SLEEP ON THE STREETS, SWEETIE BELLE! IT ISN’T WORTH IT!” Pinkie cried. “The streets are hard and unforgiving! And the cobblestones always leave these weird little indentation things in your back when you wake up the next morning! You don’t have to do it, Sweetie Belle! THERE ARE PONIES WHO LOVE YOU!” “Landsakes, girl! What’s got into you?” “Aww, leave her alone. She’s just being Pinkie Pie,” said Sweetie Belle. There were half-hearted smiles and chuckles all around. It was a funny thing, Rainbow mused—the aftermath of a cluster like what went down in Manehattan. Even though Equestria was pretty freaking big, and the metropolis was practically on the other side of it, the terrible reality of what happened there had left its mark on everypony. And everypony had their own way of dealing with it. Pinkie Pie had thrown herself into her baking. Each day she paid a visit to Sweetie Belle here in the hospital, she brought a heaping platter of freshly baked cookies or cupcakes with her. Applejack probably would’ve taken a page out of the same book and reaped half the trees in her orchard by now, if only it were applebuck season. Rainbow knew she and Big Macintosh were volunteering a lot of their time at the various charity fundraisers and donation drives that had sprung up over the weekend. Same with Fluttershy. As for Rainbow, she was all right. When the news first smacked her upside the head Friday morning, Luna had to talk her down from popping a rainboom and hightailing it for Manehattan to look for somepony to beat up. Since then, she’d grudgingly made peace with the notion that she didn’t have a part to play in all this, though she was still royally pissed off. Still, Rainbow wasn’t as shook up as a lot of other ponies were. Rainbow was used to living spontaneously, letting the winds carry her wherever they may, and taking the bad along with the good. It was the ponies who weren’t like her who were the worst off, she’d come to realize. The ponies who lived and breathed structure. Who tricked themselves into thinking they could control every facet of their lives and prevent anything bad from ever happening to them, as long as they worked hard enough. When the world pitched them a variable they couldn’t plan for, those were the ponies who had it rough. Who went through the wringer and came out the other side feeling powerless, vulnerable, on a hair trigger to lash out. Sweetie Belle had been put through the wringer too, and she’d taken it like a champ as far as Rainbow was concerned. She’d earned the right to complain, so nopony could hold it against her when she folded her hooves, fixed her sister with a petulant glare, and whined: “How many more days do I gotta be stuck in this dumb room? I miss being outside! I wanna go home already!” “Oh, Sweetie Belle, I know you’re anxious to go home, and I don’t blame you one bit after everything you’ve been through! You’ve been such a trooper so far. I’m so proud of you.” “If you’re so proud of me, then tell mom and dad to get me out of here!” “I rather believe I’ll be the one to take you home, actually,” Rarity said, a bit more reserved than she had been before. “Mother has her hooves full right now with… everything else.” Applejack read the discomfort on her face and traced it back to the source, plain as day. “How is your pa doin’, Rarity?” The unicorn’s expression darkened. “As well as can be expected, for a pony with eight broken bones! Honestly, I don’t know whether to be impressed with him for bouncing back so quickly or enraged at him for being such a foal! He’s shaken, of course, and worried about the rest of us—but would you believe he’s already planning out the next family vacation? And he’s not even out of traction yet!” “Well, at least he ain’t emotionally scarred or nothin’. ” “I’m emotionally scarred! How could something like this happen, Applejack? And not because of dragons, or chaos gods, or monsters of the Everfree Forest, but because of ponies! Ordinary, everyday ponies! Flesh-and-blood ponies, no different than you or I!” “It’s a hard pill to swallow, all right. But believe me, t’weren’t nothin’ normal about them ponies.” “A pack of shameless degenerates, all of them! No better than smelly mules in a paddock! To think they would harm one hair on Sweetie Belle’s head! That they would deliberately hurt a CHILD!” She slammed her hoof down on the nightstand so hard, it sent the bedside lamp wobbling. Fluttershy flinched. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. That was crude of me,” said Rarity. “Oh, n-no, it’s okay. I completely understand. We’ve all been affected by what happened, but nopony has been caught up in this whole thing as much as you and Sweetie Belle. And your dad, of course. And—” Her ears lowered. “And Twilight,” she finished sadly. Now, everypony else’s mood followed Fluttershy’s. Twilight’s absence was as conspicuous as anything, and every single one of them felt it. Collectively, they spent a good several seconds studying the floor. “Shoot. I hope she’s all right,” Applejack mumbled. “Yeah… Me too,” said Pinkie Pie. Her cotton-candy mane almost seemed to deflate a little. Twilight wasn’t far from Rainbow’s mind, either. The look of desolation on her face when she learned about her brother… Rarity gave Fluttershy an encouraging smile. Then she politely changed the subject—perhaps recognizing, as Rainbow did, that it was useless to drown and suffocate imagining worst-case scenarios. All any of them could do was wait to hear word and hope for the best. “Thank you for your kind words, dear. I appreciate it, and I’m sure Twilight would as well, if only she were here. But please, darling, tell me—how have you been holding up in all of this?” “Oh, um… I’m fine,” the pegasus replied. “It’s a little scary, you know, living alone so close to the edge of the forest. But I think the animals have been more affected than I have.” Applejack laughed. “Don’t tell me there’s a little woodland critter you can’t lullaby to sleep? That ain’t the Fluttershy I know! I know the birds migrate and such, but Manehattan’s a ways from here. They can’t all be on edge about what happened over yonder.” “I don’t know. But something has them spooked,” Fluttershy insisted. “And if they’re on edge, well… that puts me on edge, too.” “Oh, I don’t blame you one bit, darling!” said Rarity. “It really wakes you up, seeing something like this happen. I don’t think anypony in Equestria feels safe today.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s a shame that captain fellow couldn’t stay in town for a little while longer…” Sweetie Belle groaned. “Hoo, boy. Here we go again.” Rarity turned up her nose and put on a dignified air. “I’ll admit, when that handsome stallion came chugging into town, I was smitten. What hot-blooded mare wouldn’t be? “Oh, the thought of him coming down from that locomotive! So filled with grace and poise and dignity, with such valor in his step! His helm off and at his side, mane billowing in the wind like silver. And stars above! His armor… His muscles… Those wings! Why, it’s enough to make a girl shiver with delight! And there astride his back, my little sister, brought home to me at last by this… this sculpted savior!” Rarity made a show of draping a hoof across her brow and tilting her head back, as though she were about to faint. “Be still, my heart! What a tragedy that he was already taken. And oh, how I envy the lucky mare who won his love before me!” “You done yet?” Applejack asked bluntly. Rarity shot her a seething glare. “If you had only been there with me when he stepped onto that platform, you would understand! Oh, what was his name again…? Tristar? Something of the like?” Rainbow gagged. “Still,” Rarity continued, “if I had known he would be returning to Canterlot so soon, I would’ve pressed him to leave a few extra guards! Oh, I do worry so about safety, after what happened to my father and sister. These are such strange times, and you never can tell when chaos will come knocking.” Knock. Knock. Knock. Everypony stopped and looked up. The knob turned, the door swung open. Nurse Redheart was there, bearing a serving tray with Sweetie Belle’s lunch on it. She started into the room— —and promptly gave a shriek when Applebloom and Scootaloo scampered in-between her legs, almost tripping her and knocking her over. The two fillies bounded over to the bed. “Hey Sweetie Belle!” Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up. “Hey, girls!” “We missed you so much!” They came together in a tremendous hug. A shout went up from the three of them in unison: “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS REUNITED!” “Should I take your energy to mean you aren’t hungry for lunch?” asked an angry Nurse Redheart, who was clearly ticked off at their antics. “Because I can throw this away and come back later with dinner instead.” “Oh, no! Please don’t!” Sweetie Belle begged. “We’re sorry! We were just in such a hurry to get here,” said Scootaloo. Applebloom nodded. “Yeah! We came as soon as Miss Cheerilee dismissed us. Didn’t wanna be late!” Applejack gave a smile from off to the side. “Well, girls, maybe we ought to head out for the day. Give these three gals some time to catch up. Lunch sounds pretty good to my belly right now, actually. Whaddaya say, Rarity? How about we go get some grub?” Rarity frowned. “Well, I don’t know…” “I’ll be fine, Rarity! Really!” Sweetie Belle insisted. “Yeah! We brought over all kinds of stuff to help pass the time and make her feel more comfortable!” said Scootaloo. “I’ve got coloring books, crayons and markers, board games, cards, puzzles, dominoes, a funny little hat with a propeller on it…” Applebloom shifted under the hefty weight of her saddlepack. Scootaloo jumped in after her, “Yeah! And I snagged… like, half of Spike’s comic books when he wasn’t looking!” “Maybe we can get our cutie marks in indoor activities?” “Heck yeah! Great idea, Applebloom! Hey, if we get really bored, maybe we can sneak down the hall to where they’ve got Sweetie Belle’s dad cooped up and draw funny, gross stuff all over his casts!” “Yeah! We could get our cutie marks in cast graffiti!” Rarity pretended she didn’t hear that last part. “Oh, very well. I suppose it’s only fair you three have a chance to spend a little time together, so long as you stay out of trouble.” She gave them a critical look. “We will!” Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, and Scootaloo posed next to one another. They looked like a trio of angels with devil horns, sporting grins that were about ten sizes too large for their faces. Rarity sighed. With that, she, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie all said their goodbyes and headed out, leaving the Cutie Mark Crusaders to play, laugh, and probably run rampant across Ponyville General. Rainbow floated out after them, lost in her thoughts. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ The five friends stopped in the lobby on their way out and did a quick group huddle to discuss lunch options. After some negotiation between Rarity and the others, they decided upon the Hay Burger. Yes, it was greasy and outrageously decadent, but it made up for those flaws by being close, and that was enough to appease Rarity on a blustery day like today. Outside, the rain was still coming down in sheets and droves. Rarity paused by the door. Her horn flashed, and she produced a white-and-purple umbrella, levitating it in her magical grasp. She gave the others a patronizing look. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who thought to plan for weather?” Applejack scuffed her hoof sheepishly. “I reckon so, sugarcube. Guess in all the commotion, we plum forgot to check the forecast. Don’t suppose you could share with us?” “Of course, darling!” Rarity pushed through the door, the umbrella flinging itself open the instant it tasted the storm. Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie rushed to take refuge under it, but it quickly became clear that one umbrella just wasn’t enough. All four of them were getting soaked. Rainbow was the last one to emerge from the hospital, still lagging behind. She wouldn’t have minded the downpour, but before she felt the first drop on her head, a pair of armored ponies closed on either side, each one raising a wing to shield her from the rain. “Princess,” acknowledged the one on the left. Rainbow facehoofed. Not here! Not now! Her friends stopped ahead of her and looked back, their coats wetter than wet, manes and tails dripping with water. Rarity looked annoyed. “You see? That’s what I’m talking about. Security!” she said. “A guard escort! That’s what my sister needs to keep her safe!” She gestured up and down the avenue. There were at least two dozen other guards all around them, posted at every alleyway, every intersection, observing a wide perimeter around Rainbow Dash. Rainbow looked at her security detail hopelessly. “Uh, I don’t suppose you dudes would mind sticking around here to keep an eye on the hospital for a few hours, would you? Her sister’s up in room 311. She was one of the ponies who got hurt in Manehattan.” The left guard bowed his head contritely. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but our orders are to provide you with maximum security. Captain Tristar would have our hides if we broke ranks.” Rainbow saw the muscles in Rarity’s jaw clench. She pointed at her friends desperately. “Well, can you at least go over there and help keep them dry? I’m a weatherpony. I’ll be fine walking in the rain! Really!” Another apologetic look. “It would be unwise for us to leave your side, even for so selfless a reason. Your protection is our top priority.” “Argh! Not cool, guys! Totally not cool!” Rainbow cried. Rarity glared through her sodden bangs. “It’s all right. Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, dears. You three take the umbrella. I’ll walk in the rain.” “But sugarcube—” “It’s quite all right, Applejack. I insist. She relinquished the umbrella, turned, and started down the street, the rain splashing off her with every frustrated step. Applejack and the others glanced at Rainbow awkwardly before hurrying to join her. Rainbow groaned and followed after them, the pair of guards still defiantly at her side. She couldn’t remember feeling more embarrassed. That lasted all of five minutes, until they got to the Hay Burger. Just as they were about to head inside, one of the guards blocked the door. “We can’t let you in, Princess. Not until we’ve conducted a security sweep.” “Oh, you can’t be SERIOUS!” Rainbow yelled. Rarity rolled her eyes, still wearing a cross expression as she and the others stopped outside the entrance. “Well, you’d best conduct your sweep, then. This rain isn’t getting any lighter.” “I’m sorry, guys!” Rainbow said. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry!” “Hush, Rainbow Dash. Honestly, you’re so ungrateful sometimes. The guards have a job to do, and they’re here for a reason. Don’t begrudge them it. They’re meant to keep you safe.” Rainbow grumbled. Ungrateful. Heck of a way to spin it. She suddenly realized neither guard had moved from her side. She gawked up at them. “What are you still doing here?” The talkative guard looked troubled. “If one of us were to venture inside to perform the sweep, that would only leave one of us to remain outside here with you. You… might get rained on, Princess.” Rainbow felt a vein pop. “GET IN THERE AND DO YOUR STUPID THING ALREADY!” A few minutes later, the guards had given the establishment the green light, and Rainbow and her friends were finally out of the storm, seated in one of the booths. Rarity looked like a wet dog, and Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy weren’t much better. Even though Rarity had given them the umbrella, they’d all gotten drenched. Rainbow, on the other hoof, was hardly wet at all. A fact she didn’t exactly feel good about. “Golly, what a storm!” said Applejack. She pulled off her stetson and started wringing out her hair. Rarity looked horrified. “Applejack! That’s appalling!” “What? A pony’s gotta get dry.” “Well, there are certain things a pony shouldn’t do at the table!” A loud skreeeeeeeeee! filled the room as Pinkie Pie pulled a hair dryer out of thin air and put it on full blast, her lips flapping in the jet stream. “Honestly!” Rarity groaned. Rainbow looked around. The eatery was mostly deserted. The other tables stood clean and polished, patiently waiting for customers who wouldn’t come, who wouldn’t dare leave their homes on a gloomy day like today—especially in the wake of Manehattan. Behind the counter, the lone waiter on shift was speaking frantically to the cook. Every now and again, he would turn and point to where the five of them were sitting. Eventually, he ambled over to their table with a stack of menus and handed one to Rainbow. “Hello, and welcome to the Hay Burger—” Rainbow started leafing through, already drooling at the thought of normal food that wasn’t kelp salad. “—and may I say what an honor it is to have royalty dine with us in our fine establishment today!” She slumped down, suddenly less interested in what was on the menu than in hiding her face behind it. “F-Forgive me, Your Highness. I, erm… couldn’t help noticing… the wings and the horn. Guess it’s true, all the rumors that have been going around lately! Heh. I—I mean—” His eyes flew wide in terror. “I’m sorry, Your Highness! P-Princess Aurora! I didn’t mean to imply there’s any rumors going around about you! I—I just—” “Bosco. It’s me, Rainbow Dash, remember? I live here in Ponyville? Watered your daffodils that one time?” “Oh, right! Princess Rainbow Dash! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any offense! And—And I definitely haven’t heard any rumors about you! I don’t even read the newspapers! Heh. I mean, what a pack of lies, right? I’m canceling my subscription tonight!” Newspapers? Huh? Rainbow goggled at him uncomprehendingly. The waiter twiddled his hooves. “But, uh, since you are here, might I just… pitch the idea… If Princess Celestia or Princess Luna ever wanted to sample our food sometime, we’d be abundantly grateful for their patronage! It would really raise our restaurant’s profile! Maybe even earn us our first Hoofelin star! If you, uh, ever wanted to pass along an invitation—” “Ahem,” Rarity cleared her throat. The waiter’s head swiveled, his eyes blinking stupidly, as if he had only just remembered there were four other ponies there apart from Rainbow. Fluttershy seemed bored, Applejack was drumming her hoof on the table, Rarity had her arms folded, and Pinkie Pie was amusing herself attempting to balance a spoon off the end of her nose. “Um, what?” the waiter asked. Rarity glared at him. “Our menus, please?” “Oh! Right!” He broke into a cold sweat as he passed them around. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders. I hope everything is to your satisfaction, Princess! And s-sorry again!” With that, he scurried off. “Well, I know somepony who won’t be receiving much of a gratuity,” Rarity muttered to herself. The five of them lapsed into silence. Ostensibly, they weren’t talking because they were supposed to be figuring out what to order. But as Rainbow sat there, squirming in her seat, she couldn’t help but feel like… like there was more to it than that. The celebrity treatment was really getting old. Give her a fan club to preach about how awesome she was for saving other ponies, sure! An audience of spectators to cheer her on as she blew them away with her flying skills, no problem! But this princess thing? It was like… What did she have to take pride in? She hadn’t done anything. She hadn’t earned it. Besides, how was anypony supposed to recognize her for her achievements if they couldn’t see past her wings and this big, stupid horn? She wanted ponies to appreciate her for all the cool things she could do, not because she was related to Celestia, or whatever! But no. That was asking way too much. Being an alicorn was like… constantly wearing a billboard, each and every place she went. A big, flashing, neon billboard, painted with the words, “Insert false praise here, get favor.” Except she hated false praise, and she wasn’t a personal favor machine, and she didn’t want to be used for her so-called connections with Celestia, damn it! She barely even knew Celestia! But more than that, she was terrified all this special treatment was driving a wedge between her and the rest of her friends. Everything felt so… messed up right now. It wasn’t just because of Sweetie Belle. Already, that made everything totally bizarre. But that wasn’t the only reason for it. She felt like the dynamic between her and the others had been altered. The group, and her place in it… Her relationship with her friends. There was an aura of weird that hung over everything like a sickening cloud. Or was it just her? Maybe she had it wrong. Maybe her friends still felt totally normal around her, and she was the only one who felt awkward. She couldn’t be sure. Was she off-balance because she was looking at things the wrong way, or was it because the ground had actually shifted? “Sooooo…” she said, eager to break the ice. “…How’s the farm, A.J.?” Applejack gave her a wry smile. “Well…” She launched into an account of recent events. Preparations for the coming zap apple harvest. Construction on a new silo. Just a bunch of simple, mundane stuff that Rainbow was all too happy to listen to. The kind of stuff she had been missing out on. Yet all the while, she sat with a lead weight in the pit of her stomach, certain the conversation would eventually come back around to her. It did. “So, Dashie! How’s princess life treating ya?” Pinkie asked. The muscles in Rainbow’s shoulders coiled in tension. Once again, she was in the unfamiliar spot of not wanting to talk about herself. Mercifully, the waiter came back just then. “Can I take your orders?” “Just a salad and a glass of water, dear,” said Rarity. Fluttershy nodded. “Make that two.” “Reckon I’ll have the apple fritters,” said Applejack. “Ooh! Chocolate cake! Chocolate cake!” Pinkie Pie, of course. Rainbow’s eyes danced across the menu. It all looked… so… good… “I’ll have ten daisyburgers and hayfries,” she declared. The waiter’s face tweaked. “T-Ten?” “And a pineapple pizza… three burritos… a grilled cheese sandwich… egg foo young… guacamole… mashed potatoes with extra gravy… oh yeah, and a chocolate malt, that sounds awesome!” Fluttershy looked at Rainbow strangely. “Um… Are you sure—?” “Look, you guys don’t know the kind of garbage they try to pass off as food in Canterlot! I’m hungry, okay?” The waiter shrugged, jotted down the order, and hurried off again. “I take it life in paradise ain’t all it’s cracked up to be?” Applejack said. Rainbow scowled. “It sucks.” “Oh, nonsense, you silly thing!” chided Rarity. “I’m sure it’s simply exquisite! Canterlot—The glamor! The excitement! You really should try to be a little less ungrateful for it all.” There was that word again. Ungrateful. “Whatever,” Rainbow muttered. She stared down at her fork and knife on the table. For no particular reason, she reached out and started to play with them, pushing them idly across the wood. “Now then, Dash. Here’s what I’d really like to talk to you about.” Rarity leaned forward, brushing aside the silverware and placing her pearly white hoof on top of Rainbow’s blue one. “The guards,” she said. Rainbow stared and pulled back her hoof. “What about ’em?” “We need them. Sweetie Belle needs them.” “Uh…” “Now, see here, it isn’t fair of Princess Celestia to withhold them. My father and sister were ruthlessly and deliberately attacked! They require some kind of protection to keep them safe!” “But… There’s already, like, a billion Royal Guard unicorns with big, pointy spears backing up every police station from here to Trottingham,” Rainbow said. “Not to mention a billion more pegasi flying patrols over every city in Equestria, plus Ponyville.” “That’s all well and good, but my Sweetie Belle deserves more than that. She needs a personal escort, like the one you enjoy!” “I don’t ‘enjoy’ anything!” “But you do!” Rarity leaned forward again. “Please, Rainbow Dash, for Sweetie Belle’s sake. You could talk to the guards! Surely they can spare one or two bodies?” Rainbow gave a hollow laugh. “What, you think they’re just gonna do what I tell them to do? Me and them don’t exactly see eye to eye.” “But you are the Princess Aurora! To be sure, I can think of at least one pony in Canterlot you might speak to on our behalf. Somepony with the authority to post guards on a whim.” “Look, if you’re talking about Captain Jerkface—” “I’m talking about Princess Celestia!” Rainbow grit her teeth and tried to clamp down on her annoyance. To her credit, she didn’t let it show. Not much, anyway. “What about Celestia?” “Well, you are her daughter after all, and you’ve been with each other for the past several days! Surely, you must have some currency with her by now?” “Nope. Still flat broke.” Rarity feigned a laugh. “Oh, you are a riot!” “Look, what is it you want, Rare?” Rainbow asked, folding her hooves as she leaned back in the booth. Her eyes locked with Rarity’s, a stubborn glare pitted against a mercenary glint. “Only for you to put in a word with the princess on our behalf. Now, I know you’ve moved up in the world, darling, and you’re living the palace lifestyle now. But you mustn’t forget us little ponies who were there for you along the way!” “Oh, really?” “Yes, Rainbow! Of course! After all, once you’ve concluded your visit here, you’ll return to Canterlot and resume living in pomp and splendor. But the rest of us who remain will be forced to endure the most frightful of conditions! You don’t know what it’s been like here in Ponyville!” Rainbow’s eye twitched. “Pretty sure I do, actually.” “Oh, please, Dash. You know what I meant to sa—” “You know, considering I’ve lived here since I was twelve.” Rarity’s face softened. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just… It’s been hard for me, these past few days, knowing my family was just—that Sweetie Belle and my father— that they could have been—” The unicorn looked away, tears threatening. And Rainbow instantly felt like the biggest ass in the world. “Rarity…” “I’m the Bearer of Generosity. I have been ever since we stopped Nightmare Moon. But never did I once consider…” She looked back up. “Who would’ve thought Equestria could ever come under attack the way it did a few days ago? But it happened. It happened. And whomever is responsible for it—whether it’s this Ascendancy, or somepony else—aren’t they just as able to strike at Equestria by attacking the Element Bearers themselves? By attacking us? And if that’s so, what does that mean for our friends and families? Is Sweetie Belle at risk because she happens to be near and dear to my heart? What about Applebloom? What about Scootaloo, Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow’s ears flattened as the implications swam in her mind’s eye. Visions of a little orange filly, hurt, crying, alone, caught up in something much bigger than herself… Rarity was right, wasn’t she? Scootaloo wasn’t Rainbow’s sister, but it wasn’t a secret what a fanatical devotion the kid had for her. She could get roped into this as easily as Sweetie Belle had. She bit her lip. “Celestia will keep everypony safe,” she said lamely. “You mean like how she kept my sister safe?” Something in Rarity’s tone rubbed Rainbow the wrong way. But what could she say to the pony with a sister in the hospital? “Please, Rainbow Dash. Be a friend,” said Rarity. “A true, true friend would help a friend in need. A true, true friend would do everything she could. Won’t you help me?” “Look—” Rainbow’s voice was uneven. “If… If you really want, I’ll try to get Celestia to post more guards. I’ll try.” “That’s all anypony can ask of you, dear,” Rarity replied. She gave Rainbow an encouraging smile. “A few extra guards aren’t too much to ask. And really, it’s the least Princess Celestia can do to make amends.” That said, Rarity finally sat back and relaxed. Satisfied, at last, to have gotten what she wanted. And that probably would’ve been the end of the matter. The subject would’ve changed, the conversation would’ve moved on, Pinkie would’ve cracked a joke or two, and they all would’ve enjoyed the afternoon. It probably would’ve turned out that way. But after spending the last week and a half in Canterlot, Rainbow had finally figured out there was such a thing as subtlety in a conversation. “Make amends for what?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed. Rarity looked surprised. “Whatever are you talking about, darling?” “You said, ‘It’s the least Princess Celestia can do to make amends.’ What do you mean? What’s she got to make amends for?” “It’s—I—” Rarity stammered. She seemed to grasp for the right words. But a second later, her brows drew together, and her face hardened with indignation. “For what she allowed to happen to Sweetie Belle, of course!” “For what she allowed to happen,” Rainbow echoed icily. “Well, yes! Surely you’ve seen fit to pick up a copy of the Canterlot Sun in the past few days? The Manehattan Times? Princess Celestia isn’t blameless in all of this. Her fecklessness was the reason this Ascendancy was able to draw blood in the first place! I won’t stand for her denying my family basic protection when it’s largely her fault they were hurt!” “What?!” A sudden, inexplicable anger tore through Rainbow. She jumped out of her seat, bristling with rage, front hooves up on the table in front of her. The feathers on her wings stood tall, like battle-ready soldiers. “What do you mean, it was Celestia’s fault?” “Oh, Rainbow, darling. Don’t be so uncouth.” “Uncouth?!” At this point, Applejack finally thought to intervene. “Um, girls? Maybe y’all had better—” “Where was Princess Luna when the battle was on?” Rarity demanded. “All the periodicals are consistent about the fact that she was absent!” “So? What’s that got to do with anything?” asked Rainbow. “If Princess Celestia truly thought the Ascendancy was a credible threat, why wasn’t Princess Luna there? For that matter, why weren’t we there? Why wasn’t it all hooves on deck?” “I—I don’t know! I’m sure she had her reasons!” “Perhaps because she underestimated the danger those barbarians posed! Or rather, because she overestimated herself! Either way, my father and sister paid the price! “And what of the response time?” Rarity thundered on. “Five whole minutes before the Royal Guard arrived on the scene, and another five minutes after that until Princess Celestia herself showed up! Did she have something better to be doing with her time while my family were buried under rocks? I find myself in agreement with Lord Brilliant—that’s totally unacceptable!” “Lord Brilliant’s an IDIOT who wouldn’t know his head from his own flank! You actually BELIEVE that hatchet job? It was because of Celestia that nopony got killed!” “It was because of Celestia that my Sweetie Belle ALMOST DIED!” They were nose to nose over the table now. Close enough for Rainbow to see the tears glimmering at the corners of Rarity’s eyes. Why am I getting so mad over stupid Celestia? The question poked at the edge of her mind. She felt Applejack’s hooves on her shoulders, pulling her down, guiding her back into her seat. “Now, Rarity, I don’t think you’re bein’ at all fair about this,” she heard the earth pony say. “Talk to my Sweetie Belle about fair!” “We know the princess. She’s done more for us five than most ponies could ever ask for. Come on, now, you know she’d never intentionally put your sister or anypony else in danger! Y’all are just… hay, what’s word them psychologizers have for it… projectin’ your anger where it doesn’t belong. T’ain’t rational, and t’ain’t right.” Rarity met the other pony’s gaze. “Be honest, Applejack. Suppose it had been Applebloom caught in the crossfire. How would you react?” Applejack fell silent, and Rarity put on a satisfied smirk. “Exactly.” “I don’t believe this,” muttered Rainbow. “And as for you, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity fired back, that ice-blue glare filled with reproach. “Try being a little more loyal to your friends.” “Are you serious?” “My father and Sweetie Belle were almost killed! How serious do you think I am right now?” “I don’t know. I’m still trying to decide if this is all one big joke.” “N-Now, girls,” said Applejack, “I realize emotions are high, and this here’s a tough time for both of you, but maybe we should all hold our horses for a spell. You know, let things cool down a little.” “ ‘A tough time for both of us?’ ” Rarity repeated incredulously. “How is this a tough time for anypony other than me? Your family didn’t come within an inch of death, Applejack!” “I—well—” “And how can this possibly be a tough time for her, of all ponies? She doesn’t have to live in fear here in Ponyville! She’ll go back to the castle, to live in peace and security while the rest of us are in danger! For goodness’ sake, she doesn’t even have a family here left to lose!” “SHUT UP!” The lights flickered as the alicorn’s voice BOOMED in their ears. Rainbow was up out of the booth, wings snapping furiously. She sneered at Rarity with fire in her eyes. “You are the DUMBEST pony I’ve ever met!” Rarity was startled at first, but she recovered quickly. “How dare you!” she lashed out. “Is this what our friendship means to you? Crude insults and temper tantrums? My loved ones were put in harm’s way, no thanks to Princess Celestia! But you won’t even admit that! Some Element of Harmony. It’s obvious where your loyalty truly lies!” “I hope you DO get attacked!” Rainbow spat. The unicorn stiffened in her seat. “You can’t mean that.” “I DO! I hope somepony DOES attack you! And whoever they are, I HOPE THEY GIVE YOU A FAT LIP!” Rarity sputtered, her face flushing beet-red. “How dare you even say such a thing, you—you—!” “Girls! Please!” Applejack tried, hopelessly. “I was GONNA help, but now, you can go buck yourself!” Rainbow shouted. “You and Sweetie Belle can go hide in a bucking closet for all I care! Go make out with your precious Tristar if you want extra guards posted. It’s obvious you two were MADE FOR EACH OTHER!” Rainbow whirled around and took off. She blew out the restaurant doors so fast, she sent her guard retinue spinning. A second later, they gave chase, their cries rapidly fading into the distance: “Wait! Princess! Come back! Waaaaaaaaaait…!” Which left four friends to sit and stew back inside. Rarity sniffed and held back tears, while Pinkie had a cotton swab jammed halfway down her ear, working to re-kajigger her blown-out hearing. Applejack just slouched and facehoofed. “Well, that escalated quickly,” she deadpanned. Fluttershy meekly peeked out from under the table. “Is the fighting over?” Applejack helped her back up. “I reckon so, sugarcube,” she said with a sigh. “Leastways, things can’t get any worse.” Just then, the waiter wobbled over, balancing ten daisyburgers and a dozen other plates piled high with food. “So, will that be one check or separate?” he asked as he looked at the four of them expectantly. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ By the time Twilight Sparkle descended into town shortly after, the weather was even worse. The fat, blustery droplets of a few hours ago had retreated into themselves, becoming cold and dagger-sharp. She felt them crash against her as the chariot dipped beneath the roiling clouds, like tiny icicles clawing their way into her skin. Her mood wasn’t any less stormy than the weather. The grief of the last several days had soured in her cask, turned to the most bitter kind of vitriol. She was angry. She was furious. She was a rope pulled taut, ready to snap. It wasn’t because of her brother. Lying there, helpless… Cadance, crying, wispy-eyed at his side… It wasn’t because of her brother. Her big brother best friend forever… She was in complete control of her emotions. Buck this weather! Buck this week! BUCK EVERYTHING! Complete control. “Could you please fly a bit faster? I’d like to get there sometime this century. Preferably before I turn into a popsicle,” she snapped at the charioteers. “You got it, Miss Sparkle.” They kicked it into high gear, swooping over the village with purpose. The fog drifted lazily, covering the town in a shifting soup. Up through the haze poked the rooftops of Ponyville, gabled summits floating above the murk like boats on a marsh, ghostly and passengerless. As they banked lower, she spotted the bobbing helmets of perhaps twenty or thirty members of the Royal Guard, all converging around the Hay Burger. She pointed down. “There!” They landed in front of the building. Twilight hurried over and exchanged a few words with one of the lead centurions, whose rank insignia marked him as the commanding officer. “What’s the situation, sir?” she asked him. The fierceness in his eyes softened when he recognized her. “Miss Sparkle,” he said gruffly. “We’ve got a missing princess here. That’s the situation.” “Not Rainbow Dash again?” He nodded. “Seems there was an argument a few minutes ago between the princess and her associates. I’m sorry to say, she came charging out so fast, she gave us the slip. Wouldn’t stop when called to, either. I’ve just sent out patrols to search for her, but so far, nothing.” Twilight felt her temper inch closer to eruption. Not again! They traded a few more questions and answers. Then Twilight asked him if she could go inside and speak to Rarity and the others. He told her yes, and she started for the door. Just before she got there, he called out to her. “Miss Sparkle?” She paused and looked back at him. “You’ve… just flown in from Canterlot, have you?” he entreated her. “I don’t suppose… Is there any word about Captain Armor?” Twilight hesitated. The water sloshed around her hooves. The rain poured off her shoulders. Then she answered: “My brother’s a fighter.” That seemed enough to appease him. He gave her a respectful nod, and she hurried inside to see her friends. She didn’t stay long. The door slammed behind her as she stalked out, muttering to herself. “Of all the stupid, immature, reckless…!” Her charioteers were speaking to the commander when she came out. She beckoned them, and they trotted over and hitched themselves to the cart again. Twilight hoisted herself back in. “Where to, Miss Sparkle?” one of the armored stallions asked. “East. Out beyond the edge of town. I’ll tell you when we get there.” Seconds later, they were back in the air. This time, they weren’t flying with the wind, so it buffeted them as they went back up, knocking them turbulently from here to there. Twilight braced herself against the golden rail. The storm’s frigid breath hit her in the side, seemed to pierce between her ribs and chill her body from the inside out. She shivered. Despite her outward cold, inwardly, she was close to boiling. Barely a week had gone by since Rainbow led the guards on a foalish chase around Canterlot. Now, here she was, doing the same thing again! Nothing mattered to Rainbow! It was the Royal Guard’s duty to protect her, to keep her safe, just like it had been Shining Armor’s duty to protect and keep safe all the innocent ponies in Manehattan. Did Rainbow care about that? Did she stop and think for two seconds? Of course not! She would throw caution to the wind any day of the week, put herself at risk, put the guards at risk, as long as it meant satisfying her own childish impulses! Below them, the town dwellings began to thin out, supplanted by the fields and fog-drenched meadows of the countryside. Whitetail Wood lay south from here, though the banks of mist rolling through the trees made the placid forest look about as inviting as the Everfree. Likewise, she knew Canterlot was to the north, though there was no hope of seeing the mountain in weather as choking as this. From out of the haze, their destination melded into view. “There it is,” Twilight said, pointing down. Rainbow’s home had seen better days. The waterfalls were gone, the colorful streams all dried up. The structure itself had taken on a mean, grayish look, like a thunderhead fat on lightning. All in all, it looked about as bleak, grim, and depressing as everything else cloud-related Twilight had seen today. “Set us down there,” she said, indicating to the front drive. The stallions spread their wings and swooped down for a perfect landing on the fluff. Twilight checked her cloud-walking spell, then hopped out and made for the door. She knocked. She waited a minute. Then she knocked again. When there was still no response from inside, she tried the doorknob, and she was surprised to find it unlocked. “Miss Sparkle,” spoke one of the drivers. “Please, allow us to accompany you. I know you’re an accomplished mage, and you can fend for yourself, but given our orders from Princess Celestia and the ongoing security situation—” “Stay here,” said Twilight. The stallion balked. “But—But Miss Sparkle—” “Stay here. I’ll be fine. Don’t follow me.” Twilight stepped into the front hall and shut the door behind her. Her eyes strained to make anything out. Shadows draped about the place in defiance of the gray light from the windows, and she heard the sound of curtains billowing in the wind in distant rooms. “Rainbow Dash!” she called out. There was no reply. She pressed on anyway. The pillars of the foyer gave way to Rainbow’s airy den. Twilight wandered in, her hooves clicking noisily against the checkered floor. The solitude dredged up memories, and she found herself remembering the last time she’d been here and found the place deserted. The aftermath of Rainbow’s injury and her flight from the hospital, and all the anxiety those things had caused. Twilight’s anger notched down a few degrees. “Hello? Is anypony here?” she tried again. The room answered her with silence, and a quick scan turned up no sign of her friend. Only dust and disarray. As a peal of thunder rose above the pitter-patter of the rain, Twilight’s eyes drew to the barren fireplace, and to the framed work of art that hung crooked over the mantle: a painted blue sky fading to black, and a vivid ray of color that swooped and spiraled into nothingness. She sighed. It felt strange being here, in this house so dark and derelict. Like standing in the middle of an empty heart, desolate and familiar. And Twilight would have left right then— —if not for the sudden crash from upstairs. Her head snapped toward the noise, the breath catching in her throat. The frown on her face deepened. Two seconds and a teleport later, Twilight was at the top of the steps, peering cautiously around the upstairs landing. The door to the bedroom stood open at the end of the hall. Through it, she heard the sounds of somepony rummaging through their belongings and muttering to themselves, and she spied a familiar cyan pony as she approached. “Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow was so wrapped up in… whatever it was she was doing, the sound of Twilight’s voice made her jump. She spun around in surprise, and something flew from her hooves and landed on the floor. “Whaaa? Twi? What are you doing here?” Twilight bit her lip at the state of Rainbow’s room. Every drawer and cabinet was ajar, their contents tempest-tossed. Trinkets and knick-knacks were strewn across every surface, and what paltry articles of clothing Rainbow owned were currently decorating the floor. “Wow. What a mess,” she murmured. Rainbow scowled. “I’m gonna assume you have a better reason for breaking into my home than to rag on me for my housekeeping.” Her wings fired into a lazy motion, and she drifted, grumbling, across the room to pick up the thing she’d dropped. A book, Twilight now realized as she watched Rainbow scoop it up. Rainbow buffed the forest-green cover with the back of her hoof. Her eyes darted up to meet Twilight’s. Then, back down again. “How’s your brother doing?” she asked, a bit less brusquely. It was a well-meaning question, born out of nothing more than compassion friendly concern. It was also a question Twilight wasn’t in any kind of mood to answer. She was fed up with dwelling on her brother, being forced to relive that grim memory over and over again. “He’s fine.” Twilight’s words came out sharp. Sharper than she’d intended them, at any rate. She realized it immediately, and she quickly tried to get a handle on herself. When she spoke again, some of the sting was gone from her tone. “I’m sorry, I just… I’d rather not talk about it. Okay?” “If that’s what you want. But you know, we’re here for you if you ever want to get it off your chest. The other girls are really worried about—” “Rainbow Dash.” Twilight’s voice edged up warningly. Rainbow held up her hooves. “You got it. Subject dropped.” Twilight nodded in satisfaction. She took another step into the bedroom. A trio of pegasi in azure-blue flight suits peered questioningly down at her from a poster on the wall, as if to ask her what she was even doing there. “I spoke with Rarity,” she said, as measured as possible. “I heard about the… disagreement… you two had over lunch. And I also bumped into your security detail. They were in such a panic over losing you, I thought I had better try and track you down.” “As long as you don’t tell them where to find me,” Rainbow replied, her gaze angled downward as she flipped through the pages of the book she was holding. “Why not?” “Because I don’t want them here!” She snapped the cover shut. “Didn’t you see the sign on your way in?” “Sign? What sign?” “The one on the front door that says, ‘No Guards Allowed’. ” Rainbow gave Twilight a puffed-up look, which withered to a frown. “Gah. I forgot to put it up, didn’t I? Knew I forgot to do something.” “Do you want to talk about what happened with Rarity?” “Rarity’s an idiot!” Rainbow snarled. “If you came here to try and get me to say sorry, you can bucking forget it! You wanna leave your brother at the door? You can leave Rarity at the door, too!” “Fair enough.” In the seconds that followed, some of the heat drained out of Rainbow. But her posture was still tense. Defensive. She stared at Twilight in a suspicious, so- why-are-you-still-here sort of way. “So…” Twilight fumbled for something to fill the silence. “I like what you’ve done with your house. It’s very… lived in.” “You mean to say it looks like a tornado went through her.” “I wouldn’t have used those exact words, but—” “Psh. What do you expect? She’s a high-maintenance house, and she doesn’t take it well when her caretaker just up and leaves her. Actually, I think she’s held up pretty good. A part of me was expecting to come home and find her blown halfway across the Everfree, but I guess Derpy’s a whole lot better at weather and cloudsitting than I initially gave her credit for.” Rainbow finished checking over the book. With a flap, she vaulted through the air, dropping it neatly into a suitcase on the bed. A suitcase festooned with Wonderbolts stickers. “You’re packing,” Twilight said. It wasn’t a question. Rainbow shrugged. “Yeah. Figured I might as well.” “You’re not… actually giving up on all of this, are you? When I told you to go to Canterlot, I never meant for you to have to move out of your own home. You know that, right?” “I’m not moving out. I’m just… grabbing a few things, that’s all.” “Just grabbing a few things,” Twilight echoed. “Yeah. I don’t know the next time I’ll have a chance to hit up Ponyville, so I figured, since I’m already in town… why not pack some stuff to take back with me? Not a lot. Just… some of the stuff that really matters.” Twilight sauntered over and levitated the book. Her eyebrow perked at the gilt-embossed title: Little Green Gallopinghood and Other Classic Bedtime Stories for Fillies and Colts. “Branching out from Daring Do?” she asked. Rainbow made a desperate lunge and tore the book from her magical grasp. “I—No!” she sputtered, color rising to her cheeks as she hugged the beat-up old hardback to her chest. “Look, Twi, if you’re gonna be a pain in the flank, maybe you should just—” “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to embarrass you!” Twilight said quickly. “I still keep my children’s books, too. In fact, I have a whole shelf dedicated to them at my parents’ house.” “Good for you,” Rainbow muttered. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s odd at all. There isn’t anything wrong with keeping a book you treasure from your childhood. I think it speaks highly of you. It’s a very noble thing to do.” Rainbow’s jaw clenched. “Great. Noble. Just what I always wanted to be. The world’s awesomest, noblest pegasus.” “Rainbow Dash—” “Except I’m not really even a pegasus anymore, am I?” Rainbow kicked the air uselessly, a scowl rolling across her face. “What’s the point, even? Home isn’t home anymore, nothing feels right, nopony’s the same, and my whole freaking life is just as bucked up as my house.” Twilight watched helplessly as Rainbow floated back over to the bed. “Look, I know you’re having a hard time adjusting to all this, but—” “Aw, shut it, Twi,” Rainbow snapped. She held in her anger for a few seconds more. Then a sigh rattled out of her, and her shoulders sagged. She glanced up. Tired. “A hundred ponies get hurt in some sick attack, your brother’s in the hospital, Rarity’s sister’s in the hospital, and all I do is get mad and yell at ponies. Some awesome pegasus,” she mumbled. Gingerly, Rainbow set the book down in the suitcase. Then she flitted back over to the closet to continue her rummaging. Twilight watched her, the gears in her head spinning, frown still adamantly refusing to abate. She peered down over the lip of the suitcase to see what else Rainbow had packed. Unsurprisingly, there were some trophies in there, and ribbons of all colors and sizes tucked away in the luggage pockets. But those were mostly shoved to the sides. What really took Twilight aback were all the… well, the mundane items that had been stashed away. The golden stub from Rainbow’s ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala. A battered old horseshoe, engraved, “Iron Pony – 1st Place”. The colorful, cloud-studded dress Rarity had made for her, folded up along with the flight team garb Rainbow wore every Winter Wrap Up. A photo of the six of them together on a bright, blue day, taken in one of the fields out near Fluttershy’s cottage. Twilight smiled. She remembered this photo. She remembered taking it, and how she’d enclosed a double of it along with her very first friendship report to Princess Celestia. It had been just after the defeat of Nightmare Moon, when their friendship was still developing and they barely even knew each other. It seemed like so long ago… And sitting right there on top of the pile, the creased and dog-eared copy of Little Green Gallopinghood. Right next to… Right next to the one item in the bunch she didn’t recognize. She picked it up. It was another picture. Black and white, and lovingly framed—though the glass inset was missing. Instantly, Twilight knew it for the broken picture frame she and Spike had stumbled across when they came looking for Rainbow Dash weeks ago. Only this time, there was a photo in it. Twilight took the time to study it. She had never gotten the chance to meet the two pegasi in the picture, but she could guess who they were easily enough. The kindly eyes on the stallion, and the motherly smile on the mare… Rainbow Dash was in the picture too, in her own way. For whatever reason, she hadn’t been in the original shot, but she’d fixed that by tearing herself out of a different photograph and slipping it into the frame. The result was a full-color likeness of Rainbow as a filly that sprung up between the pale-faced couple. She looked younger and spikier than Twilight could ever remember seeing her, but she still had that patented daredevil grin. And if you stared at the composite for long enough, it almost looked like she belonged there. Father, mother, and daughter. The three of them, alive and together, if only in memory. But now this was becoming a little too personal for her liking. She was here to talk to Rainbow, not to snoop on her. Seeing all the relics of her past laid out like this… For the first time since breaking into Rainbow’s house, she actually felt like she was trespassing. Reverently, she placed the picture back down in the suitcase where she had found it. As she did so, her eyes fell upon the little book again. Bedtime Stories for Fillies and Colts, the title read. Her eyes flicked from the book to the photo. Then back to the book. In that moment, she thought she understood. “Princess Aurora!” A sudden voice made them both jump. There in the doorway behind them were the two pegasus guards she’d left outside. Shoulder to shoulder, they began to advance, stomping into the sanctity of Rainbow’s bedroom. Twilight saw every well-toned muscle in Rainbow’s body coil, saw her wings flare open, each primary and secondary, covert and alular standing on end as a wildfire of rage blossomed across her face. “They can’t come in here,” she snarled. “Princess! Thank Celestia we’ve found you!” “I told you gentlecolts not to follow me!” Twilight cried. “Sorry, Miss Sparkle. We got anxious,” one of them said. Them, pushing his way past her and closing in on Rainbow, “The other guards have been looking everywhere for you.” “Get out of my house.” If the guards heard her, they didn’t pay her any mind. Instead, they came up on either side of her, boxing her into a corner. The talkative one even went so far as to place a hoof on her shoulder, as if to guide her out. Rainbow stared down at it in cold fury. “Allow us to escort you, Princess.” “Let go of me. And get. Out.” “Please, Your Highness. If you’ll just cooperate and come with us—” “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Rainbow’s voice crashed over them like a tidal wave. The offending guard let go and took a step back. “Princess—” “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” A crack of thunder BOOMED around them, the lights went out, the room plunged into darkness, save for Rainbow’s eyes, shining bright with a terrifying radiance, and for the briefest moment, Twilight could only watch in awestruck horror as the ceiling swirled like a hurricane above her, and electricity began to leap from the walls in crackling yellow arcs. She dove for cover behind the bed, a counterspell glowing at the tip of her horn— But before she was able to cast it, the guards ran away screaming with their tails tucked between their legs. They burst through an open window and took off into the sky. The room gradually brightened as the lights came back on. The walls stopped sparking. The ceiling stood still. Half in a daze, Twilight peeked over the wispy mattress, gaping at Rainbow. Her friend’s eyes were back to their usual shade of pink, the power gone out of her as she leaned against the dresser, panting. “R-Rainbow…” “…Yeah?” “That was—That was—” To Twilight’s complete and utter disbelief, the agitation on Rainbow’s face melted to a grin. “Pretty awesome, right?” Twilight’s jaw dropped. “NO! That was the most UN-AWESOME thing I’ve ever SEEN!” “…I thought you said ‘un-awesome’ wasn’t a word.” “WHEN DID I EVER SAY THAT?” Rainbow stared at her quizzically. “Uh. Like, a week ago, when we went on that romp around Canterlot, and I accidentally got your hot air balloon trashed. Remember?” “ARGH!” Twilight facehoofed. She could feel her temperature ticking up, that roiling torrent of emotions from the flight over surging back into her again, bleaching her brain a fiery red. She teetered on the edge, about to blow a gasket. “You ALWAYS do this!” “What?” “THIS! You ALWAYS do something stupid, dangerous, and immature, and you NEVER think about anypony other than yourself!” Rainbow’s face fell. “So what? I’m supposed to just let them kidnap me out of my own freaking home?” “The guards are only following orders! Keeping you safe is their JOB!” “Their JOB is to clip my wings and keep me under Tristar’s big, dumb hoof, and I’m TIRED of it!” Twilight just shook her head and shut out Rainbow’s protests, unwilling to hear any of it. Princess Celestia wanted them to be kept safe. Princess Celestia didn’t want them to do anything reckless. She went on, “Rainbow, you’ve GOT to learn some self-control! Over your attitude, and ESPECIALLY over your abilities—I’ve never seen such a flagrant abuse of magic—” “I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!” Rainbow shouted, jabbing at her horn. With a furious flap of her wings, she charged across the room, face to face with Twilight as she glowered at her, mere inches between them. “I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS! You think I know how this is supposed to WORK?” “Rainbow—” “I woke up from a bad fall, and everything’s DIFFERENT! Nopony looks at me the same as they used to, nopony treats me the same, and everypony expects me to be somepony I’m not! I can’t BE the pony you want me to be, Twilight! I DON’T KNOW HOW!” Twilight stood her ground. “The least you can do is respect the ponies who are here to keep you safe! If Princess Celestia didn’t intend for them to protect you, she wouldn’t have appointed them to the task!” With a roll of her eyes, Rainbow touched down, stuck a hoof in her mouth, and whistled. There was a flash of orange at the bedroom window, and a blazing glory of wings and talons. The phoenix who came swooping in from outside gave a loud and familiar, “CAW!” Twilight gasped. “Philomena!” Rainbow held out a hoof, and Philomena swooped down to perch. Flashbacks to Fluttershy’s birdnapping escapades played in Twilight’s mind like a train wreck. “Rainbow, what are you doing with the royal pet?” she asked, a queasy feeling rising in her gut. “Philomena, meet Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, meet Philomena, my Celestia- appointed bodyguard. Bet you feel dumb now, huh?” A stunned silence was that question’s reward. Rainbow frowned. “Er… Actually, I guess you two have already met before, right? Flutters told me about that one time a year ago, after the royal brunch, when the two of you decided to play doctor—” Philomena visibly shuddered. She buried her head in her wing and made a retching sound. “Princess Celestia… gave you her pet phoenix? Why?” Twilight finally found her voice. “I dunno, because she’s my mom or something? Because she decided to cut me some slack after everything bad that’s happened? Because she felt guilty for ruining my life?” The words spewed from Rainbow’s mouth like venom. She grimaced, then gave her hoof a little shake, sending Philomena flying for the bookcase with an indignant squawk. With that, the little blue alicorn turned around and retreated to her suitcase, ears flat and head bowed low. Her prismatic tail dragged across the floor like a frayed, worn-out paintbrush. And the sneer on Rainbow’s face collapsed to depression. Twilight didn’t see it. Her frustration was already at high tide, and Rainbow’s newest snipe at the princess put her right over the edge. In a flash of anger, she was back in front of that newspaper in Canterlot, seething over the headlines, all the takedowns and the unfair attacks. “How can you even talk like that?” Her voice dipped low, her brain working itself into a frenzy, unearthing memory after memory. As if gathering evidence she could use to throw in her friend’s stupid face and proclaim, ‘Here, Rainbow. Here’s why you’re wrong:’ Memories of study sessions under Princess Celestia’s watchful eye. Of days spent curled up together with a good book, and nights spent stargazing. Of all the happiness, and the wisdom, and the joy. Princess Celestia, comforting her in the hospital after taking time to check up on her parents and Cadance. Princess Celestia, crying with remorse because she couldn’t do more to help Shining Armor! Celestia had been there for her! Celestia had been there for her family! Apparently, nopony gave a damn about any of it! Twilight’s face twisted with anger. Her emotions were too hot, too gushing to hold back. “You don’t know how lucky you are! Princess Celestia is the most special pony in the whole world!” “Look, Twi—” “Do you know what I would give to be in your place? To be something other than just her student?” Rainbow groaned. “Look, I’m sorry about—” “No! I’ve heard enough. I can’t believe how ungrateful you are.” The change that came over Rainbow Dash was apocalyptic. “YOU KNOW WHAT? Why don’t you just GET OUT!” Twilight barely had time to dodge out of the way before the lamp flew past her head, smashing against the wall. Over on the bookcase, Philomena winced and flitted to a higher shelf. “But—” Rainbow was airborne, overshadowing her like a fearsome bird of prey. “I DON’T CARE! GET OUT!” “But I—” “OUUUUUUUUUUT!” As Twilight inched backward, taking note of the positively murderous look in her friend’s eyes, she was forced to consider the possibility that she may have taken her criticisms a teensy bit too far. “Fine! I’m leaving!” She backed up cautiously, too worried about being pegged in the head with a vase or an alarm clock to risk turning around. Rainbow floated above her and watched her go with a leer. Then Twilight’s hoof clanged against something metal. Her eyes darted down to it. So did Rainbow’s. It was a headdress. A circlet made out of brilliant yellow gold, with a pair of ornamental pegasus wings at the temples, and a bolt of lightning grafted to the crown. Although it lay on the floor, kicked aside and forgotten about, Twilight recognized it in an instant. “Rainbow, it’s the trophy for your sonic rainboom…” “I KNOW what it is!” Rainbow said, a growl rising in her throat. “What are you still DOING here?” Twilight ignored her and levitated it off the ground. The pristine gold band flashed as it twirled in the air. “It wasn’t in your suitcase… You weren’t actually going to leave this behind, were you?” she asked. “You worked so hard for it. All that time, perfecting your sonic rainboom… Princess Celestia herself gave you this.” “What do you care?” Rainbow turned away. Her hooves folded across her chest. “Stupid thing’s worthless to me now, anyway,” she muttered. “Doesn’t even fit anymore. They made it for pegasus ponies with normal heads, not alicorns with dumb horns that just mess everything up.” Twilight’s frowned. Her horn glowed, and the metal at the front of the band began to change. It shimmered as it turned to a liquid: a long, thin strand of molten gold, dangling in the air like stretched taffy. Then it shifted, hardened, and compressed. By the time Twilight was finished with it, it was back to looking like normal, but with a newly added notch, big enough to fit a horn. She tossed it into Rainbow’s open suitcase. “You’re welcome.” “I… uh…” Rainbow hovered in place, staring. Whatever words of anger she might’ve had died on her lips. “Princess Celestia has asked me to teach you magic,” Twilight said, voice still simmering. “Given your attitude, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not. But for her sake, I’ll try.” She turned around and strode out. “We can start next week,” she called out on her way through the door. “Just as soon as you’re done feeling sorry for yourself.” And the door swung shut behind her with a slam. Rainbow resumed her efforts, diligently packing while Philomena perched and watched quietly. She had a conflicted look on her face as she worked, and it stuck with her long into the night.