"THERE’S ALWAYS TOMORROW.”
Those words of George’s stuck with me over the days to come. Their meaning changed from day to day. At first, they were a sunny if tired cliche about the persistence of hope. Later, they became a reminder of how drudgerous my life had become. What time I didn’t spend working, I now spent either searching for a job or moping about it. The search seemed futile, and there were times I found I didn’t want there to be a tomorrow… or might have if I’d had an alternative.
But then one day, the words started to say something else to me. They weren’t about hope and they weren’t about drudgery; they were about escape. They were a reminder that I could always give up. What if you don’t attain your goals? What if you can’t get anything you want? It may seem like the end of the world, but no, there’s always tomorrow. So long as you’re not about to die, no problem is as final or as all-important as it may seem.
So what would giving up mean? For me, it was obvious. It would mean moving back home. To Trenton. To my brother, my mother, my sister. To the old haunts and the old dullness. Away from the tri-state area and all its excitement. Away from Barrett and Laurie. Away from Peach.
But somehow, above all that, giving up would mean giving up.
I didn’t know what I wanted out of life, but I didn’t want that. I’d tried to psychoanalyze my reasons for wanting to stay where I was, but I’d never really reached the heart of it. There were practical reasons, the sort I could tell people, but they weren’t the real ones—it was actually about pride, somehow, and about reacting to what had happened between me and Cindy. Beyond that, I’d never gotten much of a handle on what I was doing with my life. I just knew it was what I had to do.
I’d been seeing the word destiny a lot more over the last couple years. So had everybody in the world, for obvious reasons. Could this be destiny? Had I been destined to move to Elizabeth and stay there? Was it my destiny to meet Peach Spark, a scared little unicorn new to Earth, and be kind to her until she was ready to get by on her own?
Humans might not have destinies, but there was a fair bit of evidence that ponies did. If so, could my being in Elizabeth be part of Peach’s destiny?
And if it was, could it be that my part in her destiny was over? Now that Peach was getting famous in pony circles and making her way around the metropolis on her own, was I free again? Was it my choice again to stay or to go, to succeed or fail elsewhere at whatever I happened to wind up doing?
The more I dwelt on this idea, the less urgently I felt the need to stay in town. Whatever structure inside me had kept me stubbornly living here, an hour’s train ride from my family, was crumbling. I felt weak inside, but I also felt relief. At times I felt like crying, but I didn’t, since a breeze of hope was buoying me, too. It kept me swaying in the balance.
My lease would be up at the end of July. I knew I wasn’t going to find a better job. Not without new skills or new education, and I didn’t know what that might look like or how I’d pay for it. Moving back home felt like giving up, but I knew it might well be the exact change I needed to find a path, any path forward.
I went back to Turtlewood Coffee for lunch the next week. Peach wasn’t there, and neither was George. I recognized Skelter, the little sky blue earth pony with the tumbling dominoes on her rump, and we made small talk for a while. Aside from that, none of the ponies who at the meet-up were ones I knew. And that was okay. I’d just come to watch, and to listen.
I called my mother the next day. We talked about the possibility of me coming home. It’s funny the word ‘home’ could still mean what it had meant four years ago, rather than the home I had here. I didn’t tell her about my pony friends, and it seemed like Noam hadn’t told her, either. I told her about my cut in hours and that I wasn’t making ends meet anymore. She sounded understanding at first, then asked whether I could find a roommate.
I asked Mom how she’d feel about it if I found a female roommate. She seemed hesitant, but then said she’d take it. She wasn’t old-fashioned, she hastened to point out. Did I have a lady in mind?
No, I told her. There was no one I could ask to room with me. I was just curious.
Come home, she said. She couldn’t put me up in the little house she’d moved into when I’d left, but she could find me a better place than that crack house Noam’s friend lived in, she was sure of it.
I worked. I visited forums online I hadn’t been to in over a year. I watched a movie. I lay on the sofa, listening to music. I didn’t do any job searching at all.
I slept.
I felt different the next morning as I opened the windows and took in the mild summer wind while cooking an overelaborate omelet for breakfast. I felt resigned. I felt hollow, but in a good way. I felt free.
Today, I would see a pony princess. That would be a fine way to cap off my time on the outskirts of the biggest city in America. As final memories go, it would serve just fine.
As it turned out, the omelet was too huge for me to finish. As it should be, I realized. I packed some up in a leftover takeout box and went to apartment 412 to visit the pony who lived upstairs.
The door opened easily, revealing Peach clad in a light dress. It was much less obtrusive-looking than the one she’d worn to dinner at Laurie’s, pretty though that had been. This dress was taupe, a shade not too different from Peach’s own, and it didn’t high ride in back—in fact, it actually looked like it was tailored for a pony. Peach’s mane was coiffed in loose curls at the ends, but despite her mane and dress looking great, she seemed somehow disheveled.
“Hey, Sparky.”
“Hey, Pepper. Want to come in?”
“Sure, we’ve got a little while.”
There still wasn’t a couch or even an easy chair in Peach’s pad. So I went over and sat on the pile of pillows and watched her. She looked nervous.
I held out my box. “I brought you some of an omelet. You like eggs?”
This actually set her at ease in a way, even though the smile she gave me was weird. “Sometimes. Not really in the mood right now. My stomach’s light.” Still, the box floated in a haze of blue from my fingers and toward the fridge. “Thanks, though!”
“You look excited,” I said. Better than telling her she looks nervous, I figured.
“I am! I always wanted to meet Princess Celestia growing up, it was kind of my ultimate goal as a little filly. Then Princess Cadance got announced when I was, like, twelve, and she was my fall-back goal.” She gave me a huge, sheepish smile. “Now that she’s got an empire of her own, I figure she’s almost as good! And yes, now that I’m grown up, I realize meeting a princess isn’t going to change my life, but it’s still something I’ve been looking forward to forever! So I’m a little jittery.” She floated over a comb and a mirror and started slowly combing her tail.
“That’s really neat. And once you’ve met her, you can cross that off your list.”
“I don’t know what else would be on the list. I guess I’ll need a new one! What will the new big silly goal in the back of my mind be, once I’ve finally met a real life princess?”
From the file of Wrong Things to Say came a surprisingly raw reply: How about cohabiting with a human? I didn’t say it. But in that moment, I realized I really didn’t want to move away if Peach was willing to give me an honest shot. It’s just… I knew that she wasn’t. “I dunno. Maybe we can get root beer floats or something after and work it out.”
She grinned. “I like that. Good plan.” The mirror and comb went back to their shelf.
The trip was quiet but rich in its own way. Once we’d gotten off the 6th Avenue Line, we kept pointing things out to each other. Interesting little places to eat or go shopping. People with funny clothes, or clothes that were all too serious. An illuminated fountain. A street musician. I thought how nice it would be to do this with an actual eye toward the future—if each little thing we pointed out represented something that would bring us closer later, one way or another. If we were a couple, we could call this establishing common ground. Finding out what we both liked and where we had room for disagreement or discussion. Deciding on the attractions for our next dozen dates. I wanted to cry, I was so close to being happy.
I had to tell her how I was feeling—that leaving town was on my mind. Not right now—I didn’t want to spoil the experience. But before the day was over, I would have to tell her.
As we approached Rockefeller Center, we spotted our first pony. Red-haired and pink, laboring under a luggage rack full of bags. Then we saw a pegasus flit dramatically through the distant sky. Peach laughed in delight. “Make a wish,” I joked, but she grew somber.
We stood at the head of the complex, faced with the towering GE building across the bustling Lower Plaza, itself flanked by over a dozen smaller skyscrapers. Peach sat down on the ground. After a moment’s pause, I sat with her.
“This must be one of the tallest places in the world,” she murmured. “Or am I wrong? Are human cities all this tall?”
“There are taller buildings than this even here in New York,” I said. “But I think this place might seem the tallest. It’s up there, anyway.”
“Do you think your species likes tall buildings because you stand up straight so much?” suggested Peach sheepishly.
I grinned. “Could be. More likely it’s just we need someplace to put ourselves. There’s a lot more humans than there are ponies.” Even the most populous pony city, Manehattan, ticked in at just under a hundred thousand.
“Yeah!” Peach stood up. “Why’s that? I was never clear on it.”
“Not sure. I guess ponies don’t have as many babies. I heard a radio piece on it once, but I don’t think they really knew why.”
“I guess it’s hard to ask folks why they do or don’t have babies,” suggested Peach. “It’s a pretty personal question.”
“I don’t think that stops census takers over here,” I replied.
“No? How about you, then? Do you want to have kids someday?”
I grinned ruefully and shelved another response from the File of Wrong Things: I’ve already got five—didn’t you know? “Maybe. I really don’t know yet,” I admitted.
“Yeah, me neither. You think that’s dumb at our age? Think we should know what we want by now?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’s dumb of me. I think you’ve got an excuse.”
“I do?”
“You’re here on a mission! You’ve got to see what Earth is like before you decide what to do next.”
That lit her up. “I guess I do,” she admitted.
I didn’t need to point out the music hall. It was blaringly obvious where it was, even in the daytime. Huge lit signs proclaimed the building on the corner as RADIO CITY. “STRAIGHT FROM THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE - FEATURING HER IMPERIAL HIGHNESS MI AMORE CADENZA”, said the marquee. Peach trotted over in wonder.
There were suddenly a lot of ponies around us. I was getting used to seeing them by then, but I still couldn’t resist looking at their cutie marks and guessing what their names might be. Peach floated up our tickets and we went into the Grand Foyer. It was fantastic—opulent everything, a blazing tall chandelier, a colorful carpet with pictures of instruments hidden in it. There was some time left before seating, so we wandered over to the exhibits on display.
I suspected that normally these flat cases would hold playbills for famous old shows performed at Radio City. Instead, they were dedicated to BronyCon 2017, which had been held in town last summer. BronyCon was a major fan gathering back when the show was just a show—I’d only heard about it afterward—but in 2017 it had become an informal meeting of the worlds. Equine celebrities had come to Earth and mingled with their supposed ‘creators’. And though I hadn’t heard about it at the time, they’d apparently taken a field trip to a Radio City gala.
“This,” said Peach, placing her hoof against a display case. “This right here is what I’m talking about.”
I looked over and saw a newspaper photograph of Rarity posing with Tabitha St. Germain in the very foyer we were standing in, the two of them looking saucy and naughty respectively. Below that was a photo of a dour Spike, hands on his hips, regarding a middle-aged silver-blonde who must have been Cathy Weseluck smiling innocently back at him. The caption: “I still can’t believe I was played by a girl.” Over in the next case was a huge print of Celestia, one wing slyly raised and being fondled wonderingly by a redhead I was ninety percent sure was Lauren Faust.
“What do you suppose that feels like?” asked Peach. “Meeting someone who’s a part of you, somehow. The actor who plays you, or the animator who draws you, or the person who came up with your backstory?”
I gave it some thought. “Probably different than meeting someone you helped create,” I suggested.
“You think?”
“Yeah. It’s probably a different feeling. But the same overall kind.”
Peach considered hard before nodding. “That’s the kind of connection I bet you don’t even get if you’re married to someone for sixty years.”
My heart beat a little faster. “Do you wish you had a creator you could meet?”
A wistful smile appeared. “Yeah, a little. What about you?”
I flashed on the Sunday Masses of my youth, before my mother had given in to my father’s point of view and let us stop going to a church we didn’t really believe in. I’d grown gradually agnostic throughout my teenage years, but before that, I’d sometimes grappled with the idea of meeting my Creator someday if I achieved salvation. Would I feel the need to ask questions? Or in that holy place, would all doubts be answered and my heart put at rest?
“I kind of do too,” I admitted.
She looked at me. “Now do you get why I had to come here?”
“I think so.”
She smiled and threw herself into reading a column by Cindy Morrow that had been reprinted in the New York Times. I skimmed through it myself. Morrow started out by dwelling on whether, if she’d written her episodes differently, different ponies would now exist, or the rules of Equestria might even work differently. She went on to ponder the chilling idea that a tiny creative change made for the smallest aesthetic reason could wind up shaping lives.
The column then veered into the amazing time she’d spent in Equestria. So far, only a few dozen humans had been invited to visit Equestria—new bestselling books about their experiences were still coming out regularly. Only a tiny handful had actually been granted royal permission to live there permanently, and all but three had declined for one reason or another. There was a particularly successful fan content creator who had overseen the production of a full-length unofficial Friendship is Magic movie, along with his wife; the third was former story editor Rob Renzetti. That was it for the foreseeable future.
Would I want to go to Equestria if I could? Sure, of course. What healthy person wouldn’t want to at least experience a place like that? Would I want to live there? That was a lot more doubtful. But at least it would probably beat Trenton.
“I should have this kind of stuff in my apartment,” murmured Peach.
“What, a shrine to existentialism?”
Peach seemed aghast. “Ponies aren’t existential!”
“Isn’t existentialism all about the search for the meaning of your existence? Isn’t that what you’re after here on Earth?”
She shook her head. “I looked this up. Existentialism is about how to cope with having no meaning. We ponies are drowning in meaning! We’ve got our cutie marks, which tell us who we are, and on top of that now we have you guys, who made us to be something for you, too. We have double purpose! Humans should all be existentialists. I’m like an anti-existentialist.”
She was too cute to argue with. “Fine—then a shrine to anti-existentialism.”
“I think it’d be more like a shrine to connections. Because that’s what it’s all about, Pepper. Connections. You know that, right?”
“Sure, Sparky. Anything you say.”
She frowned. “No, really. Connections are what bring us together.”
“Isn’t that kind of true by definition?” I asked.
“Slush,” she swore. “You know what I mean. I’m really glad I met you, Ronald. It means a lot to me. How about that?”
I put a hand on her back and squeezed gently. “I’ll take it.” She smiled.
I had to tell her.
But they’d just opened the doors for seating, so we filed into the auditorium.
When we got to our seats, we found Kellydell and Seaswell in the row just in front of us. We all greeted each other cheerfully, and then the ladies got to talking while Seaswell and I listened on. Peach thanked Kellydell repeatedly for the tickets and gushed over how excited she was about going to the VIP gathering. Was Cadance going to be there herself? Yes, of course! Was Shining Armor here? No, he was back overseeing the empire. Did Kellydell know what kind of show to expect? No, she really didn’t, and there was no program. When they started making plans for their next shopping trip, in the Bronx, I let my mind wander back to my situation, and Seaswell stared at the stage.
It got dark. Glittering lights invaded the darkness from the edges of the huge stage, and the regal notes of a trumpet cut through the silence. No, not a trumpet—a flugelhorn. From above descended a gleaming structure, a crystal palace lit up from the sides in various colors. The horn seemed to herald the return of light… and then came the ponies. Eight of them, clad in sparkling silver spandex or something like it, all mares. Something delicate about their pastel coloring told me instantly that these weren’t earth ponies—they were crystal ponies, far from home. Two of them, one on each end, thrust up halberds with sparkling silver tassels flowing. They marched together, four and four, into a line that turned to face us. A clear, enthusiastic female voice announced from offstage: “Ladies and gentlemen, fillies and gentlecolts—the Crystal City Rockettes!”
As the audience erupted, the Rockettes, still facing us, switched from marching in place to an elaborate line dance filled with maneuvers that echoed the words of their song:
We all have those days when we can’t move our legs
And we want to just lie back and coast.
And somehow the drive that makes us feel alive
Deserts us when we need it most.
Well, we know a way to get back what you’ve lost:
It’s to dwell on what moves you inside.
Remember your heart and a path will come clear
That’ll put back the oomph in your stride.
Recall who you are and your strength will return
Whatever has stopped will restart!
Because when you’ve got heart, you love what you do—
When you love what you do, you’ve got heart.
I leaned over to Peach, who was watching with eyes fixed and ears perked. “The real Rockettes don’t sing,” I whispered. “They just dance.”
“Well, I’ll take these, then,” she whispered back, not moving her eyes.
Some people make art in familiar forms
Like sculpture or music or dance
While others wish they could make some of their own
If only they had half a chance.
But art at its essence is just self-expression
And no one has your self but you.
If you don’t express it, it won’t get expressed
So we highly encourage you to!
There’s no one among us who isn’t an artist,
There’s no one among us who doesn’t make art!
Because when you’ve got heart, you love what you do—
When you love what you do, you’ve got heart.
All through the song—which, needless to say, was tremendously energetic—a huge heart, apparently also made of crystal, descended in front of the palace backdrop and hung in the midground. The lights rose and shifted from the palace to the heart, making it shimmer in ethereal green and crimson.
We all go through times when we just don’t fit in
And feel like we don’t belong.
On days when our differences come to the fore
It makes us feel freakish or wrong.
And that’s why we look to the heart to remind us
That what makes us special is grand!
We each chart a course that’s both precious and rare
Which all of us should understand.
You may not fit in—you’re still part of the puzzle.
Though you’re not a princess, you’ll still play your part.
‘Cause when you’ve got heart, you love what you do—
When you love what you do, you’ve got heart.
The ponies pretending not to fit in were adorable in their consternation—it was like the uplifting opposite of that creepy song from the Season Five premiere, and it culminated in a rip-roaring final chorus full of high kicks, fore and rear. Now, as the music changed, a green spotlight shone center stage and a light green Rockette stepped forward to perform a solo:
Princess Cadance needs our help—her magic will not last forever. I think we can do it, but we need to work together.
Oh, we’ve got to clap out loud. Yes, we’ve got to make her see—we can bring the Earth together through our unity…
The rest of the Rockettes clomped the stage enthusiastically, and this became a swell of growing applause throughout the theater that I joined enthusiastically. I heard someone call above the clamor: “We love you, Cadance!”
Finally, at the height of the applause, the huge heart rotated around, revealing—yes it was—Princess Cadance contorted just so in order to fit snugly into the heart-shaped chamber inside. She smiled, then unfolded herself, gracefully emerging and flapping down to the stage. In addition to her imperial regalia, she was wearing a billowing rainbow dress with emphasis on the pinks and reds. The settling of the dress once she’d landed was an event in itself.
She stood gracefully front and center, wings raised halfway, eying us as though she knew each and every one of us had a secret, if she could just figure out what it was! The lingering waves of cheering and applause allowed the audience to interact with itself, after a fashion. They also gave us time to process the fact that we were seeing an alicorn in real life, most of us for the first time. Beyond her race, I found myself fascinated by the fact that I was looking at someone who’d spent her whole life being pink. Caucasians like me are sometimes called pink, but we aren’t really—it’s just that pink is kind of the closest color for it. Cadance really was pink, through and through. I mean, I don’t know what color her skin was under her coat, but the color pink symbolizes things, and whenever she’d looked at herself, growing up, that was the color she’d seen. What effect does that have on a person?
I wondered what she’d say first. But instead of introducing herself or greeting her full house of New Yorkers, she lifted her neck and started to sing. The audience quickly fell quiet, but roared again for a few seconds after she delivered her first line, accompanied only by the quavering of an unseen string section:
Squirrels on the pine tree
Swiftly giving chase
Around the base
Now face to face
Their pulses race;
They have a place here.
Finches in the treetops
Rarely ever rest
But work with zest—
They’re not distressed
But know they’re blessed:
They’ve built a nest here.
And you
Can be part of it too!
Can be part of it too!
You’re worthy of it too!
The melody of the verses had been quick and spirally, like things flitting in the forest, but the chorus was so… straight-to-the-heart, so urgent, that it was actually chilling. Each line’s final ‘ooo’ sound was prolonged for quite a long time and dropped a tone after a couple of seconds. The strings hid behind the princess’s voice, amplifying it without making their presence obvious.
East wind through the branches
Merrily it flits
And sometimes sits
But one admits
It never quits
Because it fits here.
Foundling in the forest
Wretched little soul
This winged foal
We’ll make her whole
Down to the knoll
She’ll find a role here.
And you
Can be part of it too!
Can be part of the zoo!
You’re worthy of it too!
The Rockettes had left the stage by now, leaving Cadance alone. The intermittent woos from the audience were gone, too. All of us sat stock silent, transfixed by the song, even if we had no idea what it was about.
Ponies in the village
Underneath a dome
Of trees they comb
The precious loam
No need to roam;
They’ve built a home here.
Lonely old enchantress
Fills them with chagrin
And hearts of tin;
She turns to sin
Because she thinks
She can’t fit in here.
But you
Can be part of it tooo
I only speak what’s true
You’re worthy of it too
Here’s what you have to do
Here’s all you have to do…
The prolonged pleas got higher and higher, more and more strident, as if they were breaking down a massive wall… and then she fell silent for a good five seconds. In a quiet, hesitant voice, then, with no strings behind it, Cadance continued:
Please take off your necklace.
Leave it here and go down to the village to repent
You… can tell them that I’ve sent you.
Please do this as you’re meant to.
Again she paused. But now part of the audience broke out in ovation—not everyone, just a few people here and there. Gradually the rest of us realized the song was over, and we joined in the clapping and stomping and enthusiastic yelling.
Cadance looked back and unfastened her dress in a flash of cyan, casting it away. As she looked back at the cheering crowd, her expression was modest, even humbled. As if she were as amazed at what she’d just sung as we were. Without the billowing dress, it was like she’d just arrived, another spectator who just happened to be on stage. It felt like we were already connected—the princess of love and six thousand friends she didn’t happen to know quite yet.
When the cheering finally died down, she spoke. There was no microphone, but somehow her voice carried; the acoustics were great. “That was the song that changed my life,” she told us, and was promptly met by another wave of cheers. She blushed and smiled adorably. “Count yourselves lucky. It’s the first time I’ve ever sung it on this side of the portal!” Still more cheers.
Peach tapped me on the shoulder. “She must have sung that song to Prismia the enchantress just before she ascended!” she whispered.
“If you say so,” I whispered back, having no idea who that was.
I wondered if Cadance would launch into another song. Was this a concert? A cabaret? A variety show? None of the advertisements had made that clear.
“It’s great to be back in New York,” she said modestly. “As you probably know, I’m going to be addressing the United Nations General Assembly tomorrow, after which I’ll be meeting with various ambassadors. But it’s wonderful to get such a warm welcome here first!” Up went her wings, and once again up went the applause.
That’s right—I remembered hearing about Princess Cadance serving more and more as an ambassador to Earth. Not just for the Crystal Empire, but for all Equestria. Sometimes the news stories referred to her by her official name--Mi Amore Cadenza.
“So, since the welcome here is so warm,” she continued, “I’d like to warm up here for my sessions tomorrow. I know it’s not typical for Radio City, but is it all right if I talk to you about politics?”
Well, that wasn’t exactly what I’d been expecting. The crowd seemed to feel likewise, since the response was scattered, with a random “WOOOT!” punctuating half-hearted applause.
“Oh this is neat!” said Peach, adjusting herself in her seat. Apparently she, at least, was excited by the prospect of politics.
Cadance folded her wings and strolled along the front of the stage. “Out of curiosity, how many of you have been keeping tabs on my little sister-in-law?”
There was a mixture of hoots, applause and raised hands. I raised my own. In her most recent episode, Twilight Sparkle had followed Penduluminus, the EOS delegate from Hollow Shades, back to his home in order to help him with his animal intelligence research. Fluttershy had come along, and the three of them had run into some rather comical problems with forest monkeys.
“She does stay busy, doesn’t she? It can boggle the mind how hard it can be to reconcile all the different interests spread across just a single sprawling country! We saw that two weeks ago at the animal rights conference in Baltimare. Well then, think of how hard it must be to reconcile the differences of an entire world of nations! In a very real way, it’s the greatest challenge either of our worlds faces. How can we acknowledge our differences, learn to accept one another, and find a way to get along as we move forward?”
It turned out that Cadance, Princess of Love, had been captivated by the challenge of just such a problem, and had therefore been spending a great deal of time over the last two years laboring for the worthy and lofty goal of peace on Earth. I hadn’t known this, but it was reassuring to find out. With allies like her on the side of peace, we were surely in good hooves, or at least better off than we’d been on our own.
She talked for a while about mediation techniques—how they applied to international negotiations, and where they fell short. She then discussed the necessity for some kind of force to underlie any talks, even if it was just implied and hypothetical. War, of course, was unacceptable except in self-defense, she said, and outlined the horrors of war from an Equestrian perspective, somehow managing to make it seem both more innocent and more horrible than my own education had. She then moved on to sanctions, likening them to a relationship gone sour. She told us about Russians who blamed American sanctions for their economic problems while simultaneously ignoring the effect of sanctions imposed against the West by their own country.
She then described some of her own experiences at the UN—the benefits and drawbacks of representing a disinterested, truly foreign power. The United States, she said, had long played the role of world peacekeeper, involving itself in diplomatic and military conflicts far from home. But that, in part, was because of its desire to maintain the status quo, and thus its status as the world’s only superpower. Much of the United States’ foreign policy in the Middle East, for example, revolved around protecting Israel, regardless of any overreach Israel might commit—because the U.S. needed a regional ally. Thus, she told us, much of the political power on Earth was spent on either maintaining power or gaining more. The U.S. was the best peacekeeping body on Earth—more so than the European Union or even the United Nations itself—and yet even it was highly biased and thus highly flawed in its oversight.
Equestria’s place in things was different and harder to classify. They were a superpower in their own world, but as yet it was unclear how much influence they would have on Earth. “On the one hoof, our entire equine population is smaller than the population of this single human city,” Cadance pointed out. “On the other hoof, we have magic—a resource with the potential to transform your planet, for better or for worse.” Most pony magic was done and developed by ponies themselves, in accordance with their own special gifts. Spells and magical artifacts were relative rarities. But now that a new, huge world of magicless people had appeared, that seemed to be changing. Could Equestria influence Terran politics by withholding magical products from some countries and offering them to others? Or, given that the nature of magic performed on Earth was still unclear, might doing so only harm those groups and countries Equestria wished to help?
Moreover, continued Cadance, should the unique nature of the relationship between FiMland and Earth have any influence on the policies Equestria should adopt? Did it owe especial allegiance to Canada or the United States of America, for example, as its ‘creators’, or to English-speaking countries in general, given that they essentially shared a language?
In many ways, Cadance said, the leadership of Equestria identified more with smaller Terran countries they considered more peaceful or in need of greater help. She said that Equestria had been making efforts to aid the struggle of Tibet against the Chinese government, something I remembered from the news. Ponies had been active in Ukraine and the Baltic states, and had made friends in Ecuador, Taiwan, Uzbekistan and Burundi. We might have heard, Cadance said, of the pilot program currently in place to make crop enlargement spells available in poor parts of Central Asia and South America. This, the princesses judged, would be relatively harmless whether it succeeded or failed.
At last she finished her remarks, stopped pacing, and came back to center stage. “I’ve been talking for quite a while, and I’m sure many of you have questions for me. I’d like to hear from some of you! Go ahead and raise your hands, or hooves, and I’ll call on you.”
I tried to think of whether I had something to ask, but before I could come up with anything, a sea of raised limbs flooded my field of vision and I decided to pass. Peach thought for a few moments and raised her hoof.
Princess Cadance started by calling on a black woman in the second row.
“Your highness, I’m curious—were you at all afraid to come to Earth, when the opportunity presented itself?”
Cadance bit her lip for a moment in reflection. “Well, of course! I was one of the first to make the trip. It was a voyage to an unknown world at a dangerous point in our history, and all we knew was that we were going to a place where we were ‘known’. Known in a way that even our own parents could never know us—that was what the spell’s framework promised.” A pause followed in which Cadance again chewed her lip. “Then again, I had a whole village for parents, and even the family I spent most of my childhood with never knew me quite like a real mother and father. And Celestia… her parents were a long, long time gone. So I guess that part of the framework was more… enticing to us than it was frightening. We had a chance to be ‘known’, in some special way… like foals, but more so.” Her eyes went distant. “So, yes, it was frightening. But it was exciting, too, and it was hard to be afraid when Aunt Celly was there with me, helping me focus on the positive.” She finished with a determined smile.
“And now that you know where the portal led, are you relieved?” asked a thirty-something man without being called on.
Now the princess’s smile burst into something wonderful and appreciative. “I’m very relieved! It’s been far beyond my expectations, but it’s also been amazing getting to know the people on this side of the portal.” I heard a smattering of delighted murmurs.
Cadance called on a pony next, a mare with curly orange hair. “It’s been almost six years since the Crystal Empire returned from its thousand-year exile,” she said. “I’d like to know… how modern has it become by now? Have you been importing modern conveniences?”
“We’ve certainly been doing that,” said Cadance cheerfully. “But the funny thing is, even before its exile, the Crystal Empire was on what you might call a separate technological track altogether! It turns out that you can do all kinds of things with specialized crystals. Who knew? For example, you’d be hard-put to find a record player in the Empire, let alone any of the modern Terran devices for recording sound. But a pair of aural resonator crystals with opposite chirality can also record and play back sound, and were being used as such a millennium before the phonograph was invented. Likewise, modern medical equipment is in short supply, but there’s a well-respected tradition of crystal healers who can handle minor maladies.” She paused to reflect. “We are importing a lot of fabric, though! There have been a number of advances in fabric over the last millennium, and crystals aren’t much good when it comes to being soft… although they can make excellent irons!” She pointed at a man with thin hair and a tweed jacket. “Next question.”
He stood up. “Your highness, I just wanted to respond to the position you took in your speech, suggesting that America is just interested in using its power to get more power. I don’t think that’s true at all. We do what we can to help when no one else can, or will. You’ve talked about giving magic to smaller countries like Ecuador and Denmark and Taiwan before giving it to America… I’m concerned you may not be giving enough weight to the unique role the United States has played in our world’s history.”
Cadance kept her cheerful cool. “I think you’ll recall what I said was that the United States uses its power to maintain its own power base, not necessarily to get more. As for the unique role this country has played in Earth’s history? I’m sure I don’t appreciate it as much as a native does, but I think I understand the gist of it! This is the fount of democracy, the successor to ancient Greece. This is where humans threw off their kings and their aristocrats and tried living as equals, as much as they were able. This country’s beginnings were like the beginnings of Equestria, for those two brief decades before Celestia and Luna were tapped to rule.” She took a deep breath and became more serious. “But Equestria is different now, and so is America. America set an example for a world ready to rule itself, but there were too many mysterious pitfalls along the way. Too many opportunities for missteps as this world entered a new era. Things like slavery, robber barons, exploitation of the poor, nationalism, and corruption. And now, from my outside perspective, it seems that America is no longer setting the example it used to. While I love this country as a visitor, I don’t think it needs Equestria’s help nearly as much as some.”
There were discontented murmurs. She called on a cream-colored earth stallion next, sitting not far from us. “Do you have any hobbies, your highness?”
Cadance bit her lip. “Most of what I do is tied up with politics in one way or another… or with my loved ones. As a head of state, you don’t have much time for hobbies…”
“Celestia does!” shouted a male voice from near the front.
Cadance outright laughed before reining it in. “Celestia has been ruling for so long that she’s found ways to make time,” said Cadance wryly. She lifted her head in thought. “Oh! Here’s one. I have a room full of crystal trees in the basement of my palace. Sometimes I like to stop in and decorate them, and they go on display every Heart Day. Does that count as a hobby? Yes?” She smiled broadly. “All right. Next question!”
“Princess Cadance,” asked a brunette in a dark suit, “have there been any more All-Equestria Summits since the one where the jeweled statue got destroyed?”
“Yes! In fact, we’ve held two summits since then—one just after the God-Tremor abated, and another one last year. Many of the delegates were the same ones you saw on Twilight’s show the other week, but not all of them.”
“Follow-up—it seemed strange to me that Spike didn’t have anyone he could take his problems to aside from Twilight on that occasion. Why doesn’t Celestia seem to have any staff aside from her guards?”
Cadance smiled an uncomfortably large smile and chose her words very carefully in response. “Well, my auntie has a…. philosophy of… minimal government. She believes in… letting people figure out how to solve their own problems. And that carries as far as her palace staff, which is also… almost absurdly minimal.” The princess stifled a laugh, and some of the audience chuckled back. “I’ll just say, I’ve had to sweep out coal dust at Canterlot Palace.” More slightly awkward laughter. “All right, moving on.”
There weren’t as many hands or hooves up now, but those that remained, like Peach’s, were stalwart. Cadance called on a stubble-faced man in a sport jacket.
“Princess Cadance, there’s been a lot of talk about the so-called Nightlight Doctrine. Can you tell us once and for all whether there’s any truth to it?”
I could immediately sense the room’s discomfort—I was feeling some myself. The Nightlight Doctrine was a supposed cornerstone of the ‘Equestrian agenda’, according to crackpots and certain TV pundits. Supposedly, Equestria’s long-term goal was to put pony princesses in charge of everyone on Earth. There was no written record of it, but an anonymous government leak had gotten people talking and riled up the anti-pony crowd. Honestly, I felt embarrassed that Cadance had even been asked the question.
She took a deep breath, then let it out with a neat little sigh, releasing her tension. “I’d be glad to. Auntie Luna said she doesn’t mind me telling that story. The truth is… we get together now and then, when we can, Shiny and me and the other princesses, for tea and cakes and long, interesting talks. Sometimes one or two of our closest friends are there as well. On this occasion, which was about a year ago, Shining Armor had his father over, a really delightful stallion called Night Light. We were about three cups of tea in when we started talking about Terran politics. Night Light asked me a lot of questions about my work, which was flattering, and even though I couldn’t tell him as much as I wanted to because of national security concerns, I told him enough… let’s call them horror stories about politics on Earth that he just couldn’t contain himself. All through the ice cream course, Night Light kept coming up with what he thought were clever solutions to the kinds of problems I’ve been talking about, the pitfalls in Earth’s governmental systems. And I kept answering his suggestions as lightly as I could! Well, Aunt Celly and my husband found it rather funny, but Aunt Luna, who was sitting on a tuffet off in the corner, apparently took it all very seriously. Out of nowhere, she said…” Cadance cleared her throat to affect Luna’s voice. “‘…It seems to me what these people need is a benevolent dictatorship.’”
There was dismayed murmuring. Cadance stepped forward to regain the audience’s attention. “Oh, don’t worry!” Somehow she managed to say it in a way that was comforting, not patronizing. “It’s not going to happen. At least, there are no plans whatsoever to make it happen. Still… we did start to talk about the possibility—just as a wild, unrealistic idea, you understand. What if the great advantage that Equestria has over Earth is that we are… lucky enough to have rulers that the people trust? Of course, it’s an unfair comparison. Equestria is just one nation, after all, and there are nations on Earth—mostly the small island nations—that trust their rulers as much as Equestrians trust ours. I feel very honored by that trust, by the way, since I haven’t really had time to earn it! But the great nations on Earth, the ones with the power, don’t trust their rulers. They’re divided thoroughly, every one of them, even the ones where the head of state wins reelection after reelection. The only nations in your world with the same kind of trust Equestria enjoys are the small ones that only continue to exist at the mercy of their larger neighbors.
“And after I’d given it a fair amount of thought, I realized that wasn’t a coincidence! It has to be that way. In order to be respected in the modern world, Terran countries need to be ruled by the people, whether that means a democracy or a communist republic. Kings and queens are seen as dangerous relics of the past, and believe me, we ponies have had our share of those! Dictators are likely to be hungry for power and wealth. And for a central party or a democracy to function, there needs to be division! Even though it sounds like a paradox. Without factions or parties striving for control, the people have no choice. And where there’s no choice, there’s no voice. But when there is division, the leaders who come out on top are sure to have plenty of enemies.
"And the more I thought about it, and discussed it with the others, the more we realized how true it was in our own world as well. The Tricky Folk and minotaurs are constantly struggling for dominance over each other. The Saddle Arabians have competing princes. The Breezies have an amazingly complex political system for how few they are, and it certainly doesn’t leave them all happy. The zebras have no central government—they’ve tried to establish one a few times, but it’s always failed. The griffons are even worse off—they used to have a monarchy, but the throne’s been unfilled for decades! And so on. It’s sad, but true: in all the known world, the only large nations fortunate enough to be truly united around their rulers are the Dragon Kingdom… and Equestria.
“Because of our traditions and our magic, and because we’re fortunate enough to have wise, long-lived rulers like my beloved aunts… the people of Equestria do have a choice, and they choose to be ruled by the monarchy. It sounds like propaganda coming from me, but it really is true. They do! And if that gift could somehow be given to the world… to our friends on both sides of the portal… well, wouldn’t it be a good thing? That was the line of our thinking, anyway, and Night Light kept bringing it up for a while whenever I saw him. It’s the sort of whimsical idea, or pipe dream, that you keep in the back of your head and think about, just in case, even though you know it could never happen. And that’s all it is! But apparently Night Light was a little indiscreet and now people are worried. I just want to affirm once again that Equestria is completely committed to respecting the sovereignty of all recognized countries on Earth. The Nightlight Doctrine is not a doctrine at all… it’s just a distant fantasy.”
She seemed to have quelled the room’s unrest. I was surprised to find myself more at ease than before, even though I’d never given any credence to the mysterious Nightlight doctrine. The sense of ease Cadance’s voice produced was so soft and fluffy I felt like I could fall backward and let it catch me.
“But that was far too long an answer, wasn’t it?” laughed Cadance. “I’m sorry. Let’s hear from someone else. How about… you?” She called on a middle-aged woman in a ribbed sweater.
The woman stood up. “Hello, Princess. My question is… do you feel any kind of special relationship, or fealty, to Hasbro, given that it was a Hasbro executive who decided you should be introduced to the show?”
Cadence smiled, her ears tilting back in embarrassment. “I admit, that’s a new one! Fealty?”
“I’m just asking,” shrugged the woman, sitting down.
“It’s true,” said Cadance, “I do find it funny whenever I’m asked something like, ‘How does it feel to have been created by Hasbro?’” The audience chuckled. “Well, let’s dispense with the idea I was created by a corporation. Like most anypony you might ask, I was alive and raring when Friendship is Magic was created. What was created was a character who happens to share my life. Or to speak more broadly, what DHX Media created was an image of me and my world—an accurate image, but an incomplete one. The way I see it, the Hasbro executive committee who decided their program needed another princess to rule over a new empire in the north was simply inspired to make their creation more closely match reality. Lauren Faust hadn’t known about the curse on the Crystal Empire, but it had to enter the story somehow! So the fact that Twilight Sparkle had a big brother in love with her former foalsitter—a fact which the writers to that point had never realized—was discovered through the magic of committees.” Laughter. “Oh, and my character was named for a little girl called Cadince with an ‘i’, by the way. I haven’t had a chance to meet her yet, but I’ve met her father! And the naughty side of me thinks that I could have asked him, ‘How does it feel to know that your daughter was only born in order to help Hasbro figure out my name?’” Bigger laughter this time, and I was part of it. “But I didn’t say that, of course, because I try not to be unkind.”
The princess strode to the very edge of the stage, confident again. “One last question! Yes, you!” She pointed to an excited red earth mare.
“Princess, when is the rest of Equestria going to start seeing tiny ewes? I’d love love love some for my petting zoo!”
This question, too, got laughter, but Cadance’s expression was one of regret. “We don’t have any plans to export our miniature livestock, I’m afraid. They were bred to do well in the cool northern climate and require rather specific feeding and care. Aside from which, we feel they serve the Crystal Empire better as tourist attractions than as products to be sold.”
The room felt disappointed. Cadance lifted her wings. “So, visit the Crystal Empire and spend all the time you like with them! On the plus side, we’ve been exporting crystal berries for several years, and we have several partnerships in the works to expand their distribution. We’re even in negotiations to send crystal berry pies, cakes, and lollipops here to Earth in time for Cake Day!”
The mood was back up. “We want Sweet Apple Acres!” bellowed some guy with a louder voice than mine.
“I too hope the people of Earth get to try Sweet Apple Acres pies soon,” said Cadance cheerfully. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any part in that negotiation. Well! You’ve been a spirited audience—and I personally think that’s the best kind.” She was met with cheers and clapping. “Thanks so much for welcoming me back to New York. When I speak before the UN tomorrow, I’ll be boosted by the love and enthusiasm you showed me today. Thank you!”
She got a standing ovation. I stood and clapped for a while as people started filing out. The crystal mare who’d introduced the Rockettes came on stage. “We have Crystal Empire memorabilia for sale in the lobby!” she announced. “Souvenirs, postcards, statuettes! Replicas of the Crystal Heart! Newly cleared by customs, we have actual shards from the Crystal Palace, left over from the attack by King Sombra! Plus, an exclusive recording of a concert done by Pinkie Pie on flugelhorn! Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds. All sorts of goodies, folks, come and get ‘em!”
Kellydell looked back, amused. “She didn’t get any changeling questions!”
“Was she supposed to?” asked Peach.
“I thought she would. Earth audiences met her first when she was being impersonated. I thought we might have one as a joke.”
“But what would they ask?” posed Seaswell. “‘Are you a changeling now?’ She’d just say no.”
“I wonder how it’s going to go over that Equestria doesn’t want to send magic to America,” I pondered.
“I think we already knew that,” said Peach.
“But she was kind of explicit about it. Has anypony ever said that to an American audience before?”
“America has its own magic,” put in Kellydell. “You’ll do fine. Come on, we need to find the VIP group!”
We spotted a young black woman in a beige suit near stage right with a placard: “VIP LIAISON”. People were starting to gather around her, and eventually the crystal pony on stage announced that VIP ticket-holders should do just that. The group swelled as the main audience left for the lobby. With a turning of my gut, I recognized Pyrrha Parnassus. She was with a male minotaur, presumably her boss. I also recognized Red Rover from the ranch trip, though his mane and tail seemed to have been washed. No sign of Uncle Clyde. I didn’t recognize anyone else in the group, which seemed to be about half and half humans and ponies. All the humans and some of the ponies were better-dressed than I was. They mingled in little groups, talking politics and high society and random things I couldn’t quite gather the context for.
I turned to Peach. “What were you going to ask if she called on you?”
“I was going to ask if she ever uses her magical talent to make representatives at the UN feel love for each other.”
“Wow. That’s an interesting question.”
“Maybe I can still ask her! We’ll see.”
“I guess love just might be one of Equestria’s main exports.”
Peach made a funny face. “You can get love anywhere if you know where to look. Equestria’s got cooler stuff than that.”
“Cooler than love?”
“Love is more hot, anyway.”
“So what then, gemstones?”
“Yeah! You guys are so gemstone poor here! And we’ve got fruits and herbs you don’t have, either. I bet if they ever clear Heart’s Desire for export it’ll fetch a fortune.”
“Wow. I bet.”
Peach stood close as the liaison made a last call for VIPs. “What do you think it’ll be like when humans start using magic?”
I thought about it, but there were too many variables. “No idea. Things could get crazy. Everything could change. It seems like the sort of thing they’re going to want to be very careful about.”
“Magic has a way of getting loose when you try to control it,” said Peach. In that instant, I wanted her.
And in the instant after, I wanted to tell her I was leaving.
But the group was starting to move. Our hostess introduced herself as Talisha and proceeded to lead us backstage. She led us past dressing rooms and lounges, briefly pointed out Art Deco masterpieces decorating the halls and stairs, and eventually brought us to an elevator that took us in several trips to an upper level above the stage. Talisha opened the door and welcomed us into the Roxy Suite.
“This lavish apartment was added to the music hall by its architects as a present to the man who inspired so much of its early success, Samuel ‘Roxy’ Rothafel,” she announced as we entered. “Over the decades, it’s hosted a long list of luminaries, from Olivia de Havilland to Alfred Hitchcock to Elton John to Mariah Carey to President Bill Clinton, and now Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Please look up at the ceiling—it’s real gold leaf!”
It was something, all right. Everything was brown and gold, with fine wooden furniture, blazing gold lamps, and tremendous velvet drapes that went all the way to the high ceiling. Leather seating at one end, a large round table laden with food at the other. The group started to spread out through the suite in delight.
An emerald green Rockette slipped through a far door in a shimmering little dress. “Presenting… Princess Mi Amore Cadenza!” After her followed the other seven Crystal City Rockettes, each one beaming at us with strange hexagonal pupils in her eyes. Finally came Cadance, still in her regalia but nothing else, wearing a smile of discovery and amazement that made the room fall instantly in love with her.
“Hello, everyone!” she greeted. “I’m so glad you came to see me speak today, and that you’ve stuck around! I’m going to ask that if you’d like to speak with me, you should form a line along this wall and around the corner. You may want to stock up on food and wine from the buffet table first! There’s plenty for everyone. Everyone else, make yourselves at home, and welcome to the world famous Roxy Suite!”
I felt the urge to clap, but suppressed it. “Come on,” said Peach, hustling me toward the forming line.
She was quick. We were about tenth in line. Kellydell, who’d decided she didn’t care to spend her VIP treatment waiting, brought us some hors d’oeuvres (which we accepted gratefully) and flutes of white wine (which we passed on). Some of those ahead of us only wanted to tell Cadance how much they’d liked her song or her speech, or to wish her good luck tomorrow, but others had extensive questions for the princess, and she took her time with these conversations, remaining polite and not rushing anyone. It was actually kind of fascinating just to stand there munching on appetizers and listen to what this foreign princess had to say.
It wasn’t really that long before our turn. Peach and I stepped forward together and Cadance glanced curiously between the two of us.
“Loved the talk,” said Peach. “It’s great to hear about the work you’re doing here on Earth.”
“Thank you very much!” said the princess. “And who might you be?”
“Peach Spark! I write ‘Peach on Earth’, the blog.”
Cadance’s eyes flitted back for a moment, remembering. “…Are you the mare who wrote that amazing little poem comparing weather patterns to types of ponies?”
Peach brightened and relaxed her hindquarters a bit. “I wrote one about princesses, too!”
“Did you!” Cadance chuckled. “Mostly good, I hope?”
“It was just a little concept piece. But I’m firmly in the ‘princesses are awesome’ camp. You’re the bee’s knees.”
Cadance’s smile and the way she lifted her wings were perfect. She indicated me with her glance. “And this is?”
“Ron Pfeffer,” I said. “I’m her plus one.”
“Oh, I see! Well, Ron, are you here to see me, or are you just keeping Peach Spark company?”
I smiled self-consciously. “A little of each.”
Cadance looked between us perceptively, one forehoof tensed just off the floor. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything, and neither did Peach.
“All right, I give up,” said Cadance, setting her hoof down. “I can usually tell! But you two have me stumped.”
“Tell what?” asked Peach.
The princess looked bashful. “Are you a couple?”
Oh, wow. So she had a normally reliable couples radar, and we’d baffled it? I didn’t know what to think about that. I exchanged a glance with Peach, deciding to let her answer, but she just looked back at me.
“We’re not a couple,” I told the pink princess, forcing myself to sound lighthearted. “But I’d take her if she’d have me.”
Cadance frowned and Peach bit her lip. Had I said too much?
“I see,” said the princess. “Well, that’s a pity. There aren’t very many interworld couples yet, and the more we have, the stronger the ties that bind us become.”
Peach looked really uncomfortable. “Well, the truth is, I feel I’m kind of here on a mission,” she said in a low voice, shifting her eyes my way only once. “I’m just afraid if I get involved, it could derail everything. It could distract me from what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Cadance looked very serious. “And what exactly are you supposed to be doing?”
Peach looked down. “Building a connection between our two worlds. I think.”
Cadence inclined her muzzle in my direction, as if to ask Peach the obvious question.
“There’s someone else,” Peach mumbled. “Another pony. What if I end up breaking Ron’s heart and leaving him for the other guy? Won’t that just make things worse?”
“And so you keep yourself from loving,” said Cadance.
“I don’t think I could do that,” murmured Peach. “I just don’t… I just don’t act on it.”
“I see.” Cadance looked thoughtfully at Peach. “Didn’t you have a question for me in the audience?”
Peach looked up, changing gears. “Oh, right. I was… I was just wondering whether you ever use your love powers on delegates or ambassadors. To make them see eye-to-eye on things, I mean.”
Cadance sighed a quiet sigh. “Absolutely not. To begin with, no magic is permitted in the United Nations building. But even outside of there, I have to reassure everyone I meet that I won’t use magic on them, or they’d be afraid to meet with me. And I can’t blame them! Negotiation is a meeting of minds, and if someone can change someone else’s mind by simply casting a spell, then it isn’t truly negotiation any longer. The truth is, I hardly ever use love magic on anyone without their permission anymore. As a teenager, I used to go about town ending arguments and making married couples tender with each other, but Aunt Celly helped me see why that was wrong.”
“Makes sense,” I nodded.
“Kind of sad, though,” said Peach.
She sighed again and looked at both of us. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
I decided we’d taken too much of her time. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” I told her.
She hesitated a moment before chiming, “Likewise! Enjoy the suite.” With that, she turned to the next in line, and Peach and I wandered aimlessly, processing the conversation we’d just had with the monarch of the Crystal Empire.
Peach seemed agitated, and I realized that I was too. “I noticed you didn’t mention anything about your racist parents,” I said quietly.
She looked up at me like a deer in the headlights. She even blinked. “Well, I guess they were never the real reason,” she mumbled.
“No? But you told me they were.”
“Well I guess I was lying. You heard the real reason just now. You heard how ridiculous I sounded.”
I squatted against the wall so my eyes could be level with hers. “You lied to me because you were afraid of sounding ridiculous?”
“I figured you’d think I was full of myself if I said I couldn’t be your fillyfriend because it might mess up my purpose on Earth!”
“What if being my fillyfriend is part of your purpose here?”
“What? What do you mean? You mean like my destiny?”
“Isn’t that what you meant?”
She shook her head. “You think we’re destined to fall in love. That’s so foalish.”
“Foalish? You think I”m foalish?”
She walked along the wall behind a leather chair. “I’m sorry, Ron. It’s just… I’m trying to describe Earth to ponies back home in my blog, and I can’t afford to be biased about it, like I would be if I got too involved. And I know that sounds pretentious, like my blog is the most important thing ever, and I know it’s not, but I still have to do it right, and I feel like I can’t explain why it’s so important to me.”
I stood up slowly and processed the pain. “Well, if it’s so important to you not to be involved with me, then I won’t bug you about it. I’ll just leave you alone.”
She looked up plaintively. “Well you don’t have to be that way about it!”
“Are you going to complain if I’m too forward and complain if I’m too distant? Is that how this works?”
Peach looked like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. She turned and walked off. “I’ll see you later, Ron.”
“All right,” I breathed. I sank down against the wall, lowered my head and closed my eyes. What was I doing here?
Words filtered into my awareness as voices rose in the middle of the room. “…You can invoke the name of peace all you like, but if you keep using language like ‘alliance’, I have to expect you’re anticipating war!”
It was a chocolate brown pegasus stallion, dressed in fancy barding with stripes and six-pointed stars, arguing with the minotaur ambassador. They were starting to make a scene.
“One does not speak to Mighty-Tongue Max that way!” shouted Pyrrha Parnassus, stepping forward and pushing the stallion’s forequarters out of her boss’s face.
He scrambled and backed away. “Well, you certainly don’t treat me that way!” he shouted back at the bodyguard.
Cadance was on it, striding away from her line and into the room. “Enough,” she said. “If you need to debate politics, you’ll do it quietly and without posturing. No one should feel physically threatened by anyone else. Is that clear?”
It was clear. The minotaur representative drew his bodyguard away to talk to her, and the barded stallion retreated to his own cluster of friends. I wondered what had set it off.
Whatever the cause, Cadance was no longer at the end of a reception line. Now she was milling about with a crystal pony at her side, talking to people here and there. She looked a little anxious now; I couldn’t blame her.
I considered mingling with someone, but I couldn’t imagine where to start and what to say. Should I try to make conversation with the worked up brown pegasus and his friends? What about the minotaur bull and his overzealous bodyguard? I looked for gentle faces I thought I might connect with, and found a few, but I still couldn’t bring myself to go over and talk. What would I say? ‘Some show, huh?’ Yeah, that might do it, but then what?
In a better mood, I might have managed. As it was, I didn’t want anything more to just watch and exist. I was morbidly tempted to watch Peach chat her way around the room; she was braver than me. But she wanted her privacy, so I gave it to her. I got some food and a little wine, wandered around the edges of the suite, and played wallflower.
Watching Cadance, I decided, would be all right. This event was about her, after all, and she had to expect many of the room’s eyes would be on her. I watched her exchange remarks with a young human couple, wind carefully through the crowd, and return to her original spot in the corner to whisper something to the Rockettes. Over and over, I found myself wondering: What is it like to be her? What is it like to be one of only a few alicorns in the world, and one of the most eminent pony rulers? But even aside from all that... what is it like just to be the most important person in a crowded room?
When I saw Kellydell approach the princess and speak with her, I felt so distant from the situation that it registered just vague interest. But after a few moments, a shadow came over Cadence’s face. They beckoned to Seaswell, and he came over. Together, the three of them retreated behind some chairs in a far corner, and a trio of Rockettes stood guard to keep them from being disturbed.
Wondering what they could be talking about, I wandered over and watched from the opposite wall. They spoke for a while. Kellydell turned to Seaswell and kissed him on the forehead without passion. He kissed her a little more eagerly. Then Cadance lowered her horn to them and spoke, and there was a moment’s flash in the shape of a heart. Now, when Cadance spoke, the two teal ponies were taking in the sight of each other. They nuzzled; Cadance nodded and said something. The pair left and the Rockettes dispersed.
What had I just seen? Was it what it had looked like?
I cast my attention toward the other section of the suite and saw Peach, hobnobbing with one of the Crystal City Rockettes. I saw Red Rover chatting with Mighty-Tongue Max. I saw the chocolate brown stallion chatting with the hostess, flourishing a front hoof as if to make some elegant point. I sipped my wine and spoke with no one.
Sighing, I found a simple chair—one that had been brought in for the event, not one of the fancy leather ones—and sank into it. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell Peach how I felt, after all. Maybe after our spat, she wouldn’t really care if I was leaving. No… of course she would. It hadn’t been such a big thing. She still cared for me, I knew… it was just the awful timing that bothered me. Why had our first real argument had to crop up now?
Then I heard someone asking Princess Cadance if she would please sing her part from that song all the princesses had sung that one time. I looked up in time to see the princess blush, but she eventually gave in to the pressure that inevitably mounted. Soon the whole suite of guests were craning their necks, listening to her sing:
“But you stand here for a reason… you’re gifted and you are strong!” she sang to the roomful of guests. “That crown is upon your head because you belong!”
For a moment, I almost believed I had a crown on my head, and that I belonged in that room. Cadance waved her wings encouragingly, and half the suite, pony and human alike, joined her in singing:
Know that your time is coming soon! As the sun rises, so does the moon! And love finds a place in every heart! You are a princess… you’ll play your part.
The Crystal City Rockettes formed into a quiet dance line, sweeping their heads and forelegs in unison. Someone else jumped in with a line that must have belonged to another princess, and then Cadance sang another line, and then the rest of the suite belted out the chorus again and wound up addressing Cadance herself with a final repetition of “You are a princess… you’ll play your part.” She laughed bashfully and tried to get the attention off herself again.
It had been a nice distraction, but the song was so obviously not meant for me that my good feelings faded fast.
“Ronald?” I looked up at the sound of a male voice speaking my name. “Something wrong?”
Green horse. A green horse with wings. Seaswell. I’d never really taken a good look at him before, but now that I did, in my alienated state of mind, he struck me as just naive enough to be ridiculous. Ponies were still intriguing creatures to me—alien beings (though getting less so) or cute little things worthy of affection or pity. Seaswell wasn’t little, but I realized I still pitied him. He wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t smart. I hadn’t spoken with him much, but I knew that. Right now, his expression was innocence cut with concern. If I’d had the fortitude, I would have hugged him.
“It’s Peach,” I managed. “It turns out she lied to me, and it doesn’t matter what she lied about. We got angry at each other, and I don’t know what she wants from me now. I don’t even know whether she loves me.” I couldn’t quite bring myself to make eye contact.
Green feathers brushed my face. “That’s too bad. I hope you make up soon. I think you make a good couple.”
I touched Seaswell’s wing. “You and Kellydell make a good couple,” I said without thinking.
He seemed uncomfortable. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “If we made a good couple, she wouldn’t get tired of me.”
“She gets tired of you?”
He nodded sadly. “We just got Cadance to renew our love. We’d been planning it for weeks. But she’s the one who really needed it. I still loved Kelly. I always do. But she’s so sophisticated, and I’m just not smart enough for her.”
I stared at Seaswell, the weirdness of the situation rousing me from my self-pitying stupor. That had honestly been what I’d thought I’d seen, but it still didn’t quite register. “Let me get this straight. Kellydell had stopped loving you… but she wanted to love you again?”
“She said she still loved me deep down,” the stallion said somberly. “But the freshness had worn off.”
“And now the freshness is back?”
He nodded slowly. “Princess Cadance said she hoped she could put the bloom back on the rose.”
I took a deep breath and hugged Seaswell. “You two must have something really special or she wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. Did you only get VIP tickets for this show so you could do this?”
“Well, her company gives her discounts for things like this. But that was part of it.” He made no effort to disengage from the hug.
“Well, I’m glad you had the chance,” I told him, releasing him. “Most couples wouldn’t be so lucky.”
“I know! I’d hate if Kelly felt trapped with me.” Sadness still hung over the stallion like a soaked beach towel.
“How did you meet?” I asked.
He brightened up a little. “I flew over Greenisle. I was flying over as many islands as I could back then, hoping to find the most exciting thing there. Sometimes I’d come back with a camera and take a picture. I thought it might be the Baloney Stone… but it was her, instead!”
“Kelly was the most exciting thing on Greenisle?”
He tilted to one side. “She really was! I courted her for a while, and she let me sweep her off her hooves. We had a great time at a steeple dance that afternoon! Then I came back the next day, and the next, and after a while she said I could go on a trip with her. I had so much fun, I asked if I could go on another trip with her, and another. And after three trips, I asked if she would marry me.” He straightened up. “She said she needed more time to decide. She went on another trip by herself, and when she came back, she told me yes, she would! And when she got sent here to Earth by her tourism company, I came along to help however I could.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to this story. “Did something happen on that trip she took alone that made up her mind?”
Seaswell dipped a leg uncertainly beneath himself in the shape of a piece of elbow macaroni. “She tried having a night with another stallion,” he admitted. “He didn’t treat her well, so she came back to me. I guess she decided having a nice guy was worth a lot.”
I nodded grimly. “Do you know what he did to her?”
He shook his head. “She never said.”
I wondered if something similar could happen with me and Peach. Would some time with George convince her that she wasn’t going to leave me for him? If only he would treat her badly, or be anything less than a gentlecolt. But then I realized that I was fantasizing about the mare I loved being abused, and that maybe George was the nice guy in this scenario.
This was no good. I wanted to leave. But should I go and tell Peach I wanted to go, or were things between us spoiled enough that we’d be leaving separately?
“Pepper?” asked Seaswell. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, I think so.” I glanced and saw that Kellydell was engrossed in conversation. Seaswell seemed just as adrift as I did. “Hey. Want to see a new game I got for my phone? It’s pretty neat.”
“I’d be glad to!” He settled down on the floor, and I got down with him, and I proceeded to show him everything on my phone I thought he might care about.
We played and chatted for the better part of an hour. We didn’t really learn much about each other—it wasn’t that kind of chatting. We found a game we both liked, the kind where you progress through a map of levels, and he figured out how to work the touchscreen with a wingtip. We became allies in the quest to get as far as we could, now and then glancing up at some burst of laughter or some loud thing someone had said, discussing it briefly and returning to our game.
At one point, Kellydell came up and, after greeting me, kissed Seaswell passionately. He was definitely glad to see her. It was clear to me that she really did love him deeply, even if that hadn’t been entirely true an hour ago. But it was equally clear that their relationship was unequal. Kellydell saw Seaswell more as a prized possession than as a partner, or so it seemed to me.
The kiss done, Kellydell told us to have fun with our game and went back to schmoozing. So we did. Seaswell and I figured out how to traverse twenty dungeons full of slimes, goblins, and fiendish traps. This wasn’t so bad, really. Seaswell made a good companion for a simple activity, and the event would be ending in half an hour. I could easily hold out until then and revisit my troubles with an improved mood.
Again, a voice rose over the general ambiance. “What you overlook is the importance of honesty,” said the bull minotaur to another, different pegasus stallion—this one tall, proud-looking, and off-white, with gold rings on all four legs. “The pony hegemony is powerful, but it is built on mountains of dishonesty. Your rulers manipulate their subjects to bring about their magical ends. Your leaders routinely disguise mishaps, hoping to repair them before they are discovered. Even your so-called ‘Element of Honesty’, Applejack, is prone to gross deceptions. This, at least, the Minnow Empire can say for itself: We are ruthlessly honest. You will not catch us dissembling or reneging on any deal.”
“You gonna call Las Pegasus dishonest? We thrive on honesty. We take pride in honesty. The moment we go crooked, no one wants to play our games anymore and we go belly-up. You trying to kill us, muscle man?”
“Mighty-Tongue Max would never wish to deprive an honest being of his livelihood. But look how sensitive you are! Would a truly honest pony react with such vitriol?”
“So now you’re callin’ me dishonest? You sure you’re a diplomat?”
“Perceive, everyone! Mighty-Tongue Max asked a question about honest ponies, and he took it as a personal slight. The Minnow Empire has no need for your friendship, nor for your city with its foul secrets.”
Cadance appeared between the two, her jaw clenched.
The off-white pegasus fluttered just off the floor. “You think you can get away with telling an official rep that? Listen to me, muscle man, you need all the friends you can get.”
The minotaur leaned in. “Do not call Mighty-Tongue Max a ‘MAN’!”
Cadance’s body flashed for an instant. “Excuse me. Does this look like a place to air your differences? These people are trying to enjoy themselves. If you feel the need to yell at each other, go outside to do so, and don’t come back!”
For a moment, Pyrrha Parnassus stepped forward, and I thought she might actually be about to take a swing at Princess Cadance. But Max stepped back and planted his hands together in a bow, and Pyrrha got the hint. The pegasus from Las Pegasus scuffed a hoof and shied back, too. “Sorry, your highness. Really truly, I am.”
Cadance sized up the situation before a mostly silent suite. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t mingle with the minotaurs for the rest of our time here,” she told him.
“Sure, highness. Sure, I won’t. I promise.”
She looked to the minotaurs. “And you will likewise refrain from provoking anyone?”
“You have the word of Mighty-Tongue Max.”
Cadance paused a moment before nodding decisively. “Good.” To the room: “Carry on! We have another half an hour before we need to go!”
I can’t say things were cheerful after that, but the scuffle got people talking. All around me were the excited tones of people who’ve just been fed something scandalous to gossip about.
“Is that true?” asked Seaswell. “Are minotaurs always honest?”
I settled down again, cross-legged on the floor. “Not like I would know. But there is such a thing as being too honest, you know.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Is there?”
Huh. Maybe for a guy like Seaswell, there wasn’t. “Sometimes it’s nice to spare someone an unpleasant truth,” I suggested.
He looked skeptical, his four legs bending a little. I was suddenly taken by an urge to talk to Peach. The idea of trying to bumble through our reconciliation only when the event officially ended now seemed comically stupid.
I picked my phone up. “I should go talk to Peach,” I told the green pegasus.
“Okay. And I’ll go talk to Kelly. But I had fun playing with you!” He leaned toward my phone with its game as I walked past him, as if he was naturally drawn to it.
“Likewise, see you around, Seaswell.”
Peach was talking with the hostess, Talisha, as she replenished the ice in the punch bowl. I waited for their conversation to end before walking up. Peach noticed me and jumped a little, then set all her hooves neatly in order. “Hey Pepper.”
“Hey, Sparky.” The nickname felt wrong in my mouth. Sparks were definitely not what I was feeling just then.
She looked me over carefully. “You doing all right?”
I realized that the better part of an hour sitting on the floor had left my clothing even less impressive-looking than when I’d come in. “I’m okay.”
“I saw you over there on the floor with Seaswell. The next time I looked, you were still there. You’re not having fun, are you?”
I shook my head.
She looked nervously into my eyes. “Are you still mad at me?”
I searched my feelings. “Not really, no.”
She didn’t seem satisfied. We moved out of the way to let some other people get to the buffet.
“You want to go?” asked Peach.
I could have just said yes, but the broader meaning of the question resonated with me, and I decided not to pass up this opportunity. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Peach, but I want to go. Living on the edge of New York isn’t doing it for me anymore. I mean, really, it never did.”
I saw tears starting to form. “Wait. You mean you want to go?”
I swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve been feeling this way more and more. I don’t have much here. It’s expensive, and I can’t afford it anymore, and I feel like… I feel like my work here is done. Whatever that work was.”
“So you’re… you’re moving away?”
“Back to Trenton. Yeah, I think so. I don’t know what else to do but start over.”
Her voice got plaintive. “But I can give you money! I’ve got enough to make up the difference. You’ve just got to manage it for me! You can be my money manager and I’ll take care of your rent.”
Now that would be a ridiculous situation. “I’m not going to be your money manager, Peach. But if I were, I’d tell you that spending it on my rent is a terrible idea. Barrett doesn’t live in the building anymore, and Laurie doesn’t work at the garden center. I don’t have any other friends good enough to stay for. I should leave.”
“You don’t have any other friends good enough?!” retorted Peach. “What about me?! What about this girl you’re looking at? Pepper, you’re my only real human friend! If you go, I’ll miss you! I’ll miss…” Her head shuddered. “I’ll miss you really hard.”
“So we’ll call. If you can ever bring yourself to get a phone.”
“I don’t want a stupid phone. I want a neighbor I can visit. You humans have all these thousands of neighbors and instead of talking to them, you just call people up on your computers and your phones.”
“Then why don’t you have any other human friends yet?” I challenged. “Why don’t you go out and be a good neighbor? Bake them a cake, like I did for you. Or just say hi.”
“I’m afraid,” she said.
“You’ve been here over two months. You’re blogging like a pro now. What are you still afraid of?”
“It’s hard!” she yelled. “Do you somehow not realize that yet? Moving to a place where everything is new, where everything is grittier, realer than it is back home is really hard. I wish you could go someplace where humans are just made-up fantasy creatures so you could see what I mean!”
My heart pulsed with sympathy and anger. “You make it harder for yourself than it needs to be, Peach. All you need to—”
That’s when I saw pink in the corner of my eye. I turned to find Princess Mi Amore Cadenza sitting there tensely with her face taut, eyes wide, nostrils flared.
She spoke in a strained voice. “You two are really testing me, you know that?”
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, especially not after those other guys.” I looked back to Peach. “Were we really talking that loud?”
“Jerseyites never know how loud they’re talking,” Peach said. “At least, that’s what they warned me before I came.”
“They’re like minotaurs that way,” muttered Cadance, her ears swiveling. “That wasn’t what I meant, but if you’ll excuse me.”
We hardly got a chance to excuse her. The chocolate brown pegasus with the barding and the off-white one with the rings were arguing with the minotaurs again. People were surrounding them from all sides and shouting their opinions. This time the hostess was in the middle, trying to talk things down to no avail. She pulled out a walkie talkie, presumably to call security.
“Those are dueling words!” thundered Mighty-Tongue Max, striking a pose.
“Pyrrha Parnassus will fight in your stead! It is her duty!”
“You want a duel? That’s not how we do things where I’m from,” snarked the tall off-white pegasus. “You’d better watch your backs at night, that’s how my folks do things.”
“And he claims to be honest!” roared Max.
“I am honest! I’m honestly telling you to look out!”
“Mark my words, this is all part of their plan,” said the brown pegasus. “They came wanting a duel, and you’re giving it to them.”
“There will be no duel!” shouted the bodyguard, stomping her hoof hard enough to shake the lamps. “Pyrrha Parnassus will rend any pony who dares threaten Mighty-Tongue Max, and it will be a clean and honest battle!”
“Great balls of fire, they’re worse than angry yaks,” I heard the princess mutter before striding forward. “Listen to me! Stand back! Would you strike a princess of Equestria?”
“If honor has been impugned,” said the bull minotaur, “no force can be allowed to stand in the way.”
“Think really hard about what you just said,” advised the pink princess. “Go on. Think about it. Imagine the consequences if you try to come through me.”
“You’re just giving them the excuse they want, princess,” interjected the brown stallion.
“Hush!”
Most of the guests were starting to hurry for the door, so I took the hint and hurried with them. Peach’s hoof tapped me hard on the shoulder. “Wait! Are you going already? Am I going to see you again?”
My answer got cut off. “Don’t be intimidated,” cried Pyrrha Parnassus to her boss. “She has nothing worse than a shock beam and confusion gas. The Princess of Love has no truly offensive magic.”
“That is a point,” said Mighty-Tongue Max, stepping toward the off-white pegasus.
“You want to try it?” the pegasus shouted, beating his wings. “Just try it!”
“No!” yelled Cadance. Her body, followed by her horn, shined a brilliant sky blue. “Do you want to know what I’ve got? Here!” She spun in place, sending bolts of blue magic into the four disputants. No, not bolts—hearts. Heart bolts. One for each minotaur, one for each pegasus, and more to follow. I got jostled and almost knocked over by the stampeding crowd.
“Ron!” yelled Peach in the middle of a dozen other voices. “Don’t you dare leave without answering my question! Am I going to see you again?”
“I don’t know!” I snapped back, wracked with fear and anger. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
She was aghast. “I can’t! You can’t ask that!”
“Then we’ll just see!” I yelled.
A field of pink appeared on one side. I heard a female voice snap, “Oh for goodness sake!” and then I was knocked over in a flash of cyan.
My right arm was clutched tight around Peach’s side, and we were stumbling through the hall toward the elevator.
I was crouching on the floor of the elevator, hugging Peach tightly, and she was hugging me. Voices were clamoring all around us.
We were standing on the grand foyer carpet with the art deco instruments hidden in it. There was still noise all around. I had the strange sense of an unfinished thought—something I’d been trying to process, or a conclusion I’d been trying to draw—but there were more important things right now than a dangling loose end in my brain. I squatted down and looked into Peach’s eyes.
She stared at me and licked her lips, sizing me up.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she replied. She leaned forward, a little off balance. I wanted to take those four smooth-coated legs and just shove them out to either side so that she’d fall into my grip. How dare they hold her up when I wanted her in my arms? But I didn’t, because I had something to say.
“I want you to know something,” I told Peach. She looked at me like I was the only thing worth seeing in the whole music hall.
“What?” she whispered.
“I don’t want to go,” I told her.
She stared at me. We were at home in my apartment. I picked her up and carried her to the bed. I made love to her for hours. I remember getting up at one point to brew tea. I remember taking the tea to bed with me. I remember contrasting the dark brown of it with the peachy brown of her coat, and I remember saying so aloud. I remember warm tea sliding down the middle of my chest.
I remember thinking that sex with a unicorn is not easy. I remember not wanting it to be.
I remember lying in bed at an angle to each other and noticing the difference between the sound of my breathing and hers. I remember savoring how wonderful that difference was. What amazing things has nature wrought, I remember thinking.
I remember pancakes the next morning with raisins and lots of syrup. But I don’t remember very much after that.