The only regular train to Alexandria arrived by night. As was true during most of these trips, Lonely Day was aboard. For company she had only Huan, her loyal (if aging) companion. The massive dog rested at her hooves, ever vigilant.
Of course, they were nearly done with the twelve-hour ride, the second Lonely Day had taken in as many days. A pair of dark metal shackles sat beside her on the seat, artifacts of another world. Thank God she only had to wear them while she was inside Raven City.
Her train traveled much faster on the return trip, with most of the weight gone from the cargo cars. The trade goods of an entire trip wouldn't even half-fill the rear cargo car. Even so, they were worth far more than their weight in gold.
Lonely Day sat in the window seat, so she could see the lights of her beloved little town come into sight. Yet before they did, she heard a strange knocking on the roof, near one of the ventilation windows. Huan's eyes went alert, ears swiveling to face the direction of the noise. To her great annoyance, her ears did much the same.
Even after five years, Lonely Day hadn't quite gotten over how strange it was to be a pony.
She hopped to her hooves, moving to the ventilating window and using her mouth to tug on a rope that hung down. Thus was the way of being a pony; if you weren't a unicorn, you generally used your mouth. Lonely Day was not a unicorn.
Under the pressure of her tug, the opening sprung inward, and air rushed in with a roar. A second later a pony shot through the dark sky above. She angled downward in a perfect spiral, avoiding the edge of the opening and landing with grace.
The mare's wings were still flared, and she still panted from the exertion. "Hey Day. Welcome back."
Lonely Day embraced her best friend without hesitation. Sky had matured in the last five years, becoming a few inches taller, her wings broader. Foals may've helped a little with that process too.
"Have fun with the humans, Day? Make lots of good trades?"
"The best," she answered, when the pegasus released her. She didn't need to wait, not when she had the superior strength of an earth pony, but she always did. "Every computer Joseph asked for, and more than enough medicine to have some left over for trade. Oh, and one of those fabricator machines they've been teasing us with for three years now."
"Woah." Sky's eyes widened, ears alert on her head. At least ponies had the politeness to let their bodies show you what they were feeling. Far less guesswork than dealing with humans. "You actually got them to give you one?"
Alex shrugged, though she knew her own body would be showing signs of pride. Tail lifting, wider stance with her hind legs, ears sideways. She couldn't help it. "Our harvest was good this year. They don't just eat the stuff! They can bake it into crackers that last forever, extend their supplies even further. You should come with me one of these times, Sky. That city of theirs..." She sat back down, eyes widening as she imagined it. "More factory than city. A whole world's worth of machines, a circular flow of repairs and replacements. Huge vaults of metal ingots and tanks of algae."
Sky returned the shrug, unimpressed. "If you think it's so great, why don't you move in?"
Alex nudged the pegasus with a shoulder. Not hard; she could break a rib if she wasn't careful. Just what she hoped would be playful, but firm. A few months post transformation and she never could've delivered such fine control of her own supernatural strength. Now it was second nature. Being an earth pony was part of who she was.
"They don't take kids." She frowned down at her hooves, deflated. She wasn't much better than a kid herself. She hadn't been ready to have a child.
"Lonely Day, mother of the year!" Sky responded, draping an affectionate wing over her shoulder. "Rough ride? You're not usually this tense."
Alex shook her head in response. "Nothing like that. You know the HPI; smooth all the way." She didn't go on, but began to shift under Sky's gaze, and continued. "I guess I thought they'd have made more progress by now." She pulled away, to the single flat wall where the control-panel had been set. Motion detectors lit up the screen as she approached. On them was her route, the train's status and the ETA for their arrival. The controls were made for her hooves, and the buttons were huge on the screen. She didn't actually touch anything, though.
"Remember how fast technology was advancing, before the Event? It felt like we were always living in the future. Every week there was some new huge innovation. I felt like I couldn't even guess how people would live in fifty years, because things changed so fast."
"But-"
"But the HPI isn't like that. They're not churning out inventions like humans used to! They haven't come up with low-energy shielding! They haven't cracked fusion even though they're sinking most of their resources into it. They've got the best minds in the world, the best minds the world had before the Event. Why haven't they fixed this?"
"Oh." Cloudy Skies sounded... relieved? "Here I was worried you were stressing about something serious." She closed the distance, embracing the smaller pony again. "You're always stressing over something, Day. Probably should see a doctor about it or something." She grinned, prompting another sharp nudge from Alex.
"You don't think this is serious? They're the last of our species, Sky. Our real species! We have-"
The pegasus silenced her with a hoof rammed into her mouth. "Relax, filly! The problem's serious, but it's not a mystery. It's obvious!"
Day sat down again, eyes darkening at use of the word "filly", though she didn't actually object. "So what is it, then?"
"It's brainpower, obviously." She tapped Alex on the side of her head, grinning. "Let's say they got five hundred humans in there, the smartest ones in the whole world. That might seem like a lot. But how many people were there before? Billions! Even though all of them didn't help with inventing things before, lots of them did. Lots more than 500. There's no way they're going to come up with new inventions as fast!"
Sky shrugged. "So relax! They're doing their best. They'll get it when they get it. It doesn't change anything for us, no matter what. You said the only way ponies who wanted to be human again could be was if unicorns invented a spell. There aren't any unicorns in Raven City. If you want to be a human again, you can support Mystic Rune's university. That sounds more productive than stressing about humans in some far-away hole!"
"Now you sound like Oliver."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Sky rose up on her haunches into the proudest sitting position she could. "The only stallion in Alexandria as pragmatic and practical as you. Which reminds me – have you thought about what I asked you when you left?"
Alex felt her stomach drop a few inches into her belly, and her hooves go cold. "About you being pregnant with your second? About wanting me to have another one too... so yours will have a friend their age?"
"Yeah, that." Sky leaned in, ears swiveling. But Alex couldn't meet her eyes. The mere idea of having another child sent spasms of pain to the muscles on her belly. She could still feel Oliver's knife, where he had cut her open in the desperate bid to save her child's life.
The strange magic of her life meant there were no scars on her belly. Cody wasn't so lucky; he had scars that his coat would never cover, even when he was an adult. And Oliver? His wounds were the deepest, even though he would never admit it.
"Sorry." She shook her head. "Oliver and I talked about it; it's not safe for me to have another foal." And it probably never will be, she finished, though she didn't add that part out loud. "Once a mare has complications, all her future births can have them. It's not safe."
Cloudy sighed, deflating. "I thought that was just your story for why you're not part of the breeding program anymore. Since you wanted to stay with Oliver."
Alex didn't even blush. The idea of being with a stallion had revolted her five years ago. Now? Being an animal was part of her life. The idea of a human partner now seemed strange and unnatural.
But she didn't plan on talking to any of them. "No. When I supported his proposal, it wasn't so I could back out when it got hard. Ask any doctor in Alexandria! Though... I guess most of them would say I was too young to think about it. They're probably right about that too."
"They just don't know the details. I'm sure if you explained you only look younger because of a spell..."
Alex felt a pang of guilt, deep in her gut. There was one secret she had kept even from her best friend. It was the reason she hadn't regained most of her stolen years since arriving in their new colony. The reason she could never have more foals.
She wasn't sure she would ever tell. For now, everypony thought she still looked small because of what Moriah had done. Only Oliver knew the truth, and Alex wasn’t inclined to correct them. Time would accomplish that labor.
"Are you willing to sacrifice everything to see that your species is remembered?" She wouldn't have changed her answer even now that she finally understood what Princess Luna had meant.
* * *
Lonely Day was starting to sway on her hooves by the time the train pulled in. She should've slept, but Alex had never been able to sleep while on something moving. Otherwise she could've rested through her return journey. It would have been nice to be fresh when she finally got home. As it was, she had to say goodbye to Cloudy Skies in a half-stupor, and wander out of the train into the station.
Perhaps it was a little bit of an exaggeration to call it that. It was just a raised platform with a canopy erected for shade, and a ramp for small vehicles. There had been a time when Alex had been personally involved in every aspect of the day-to-day operations of Alexandria, and in those days she had to turn every gear in the city's machinery herself.
Now there was an inventory pony, an earth pony stallion named Balanced Accounts. She thrust the clipboard into his waiting hooves, stopping to wait for his signature. Little that Alexandria did required security. Considering the value of what was aboard the train, not taking steps was a mistake they had only made once.
There would be no more highway robberies anymore. Two of the town's "security ponies" were there, each wearing the P90 that had become synonymous with Alexandria. They nodded politely to her, though she could tell their eyes were also scanning to make sure she hadn't tried to hide anything. She smiled, rotating around once so they could see she wasn't.
Of course, the security ponies trusted her. Trusted everypony really; they had never shot a pony in the whole time the city had them. It was amazing how useful they were as a deterrent, though. It was scary to think that there were now enough ponies out there that some of them were not nice. As time went on, it would only get worse.
But then, maybe not. It wasn't as though anyone should be driven by need, at least not here. Alexandria needed every body. They were happy to provide water, food, and housing. They still had a small town full of houses, all connected to water and power. Not that she expected anypony to starve; it was hard to starve when you could eat grass.
"You look like crap, Day." One of the guardsponies, a bat-winged pony with a shield on his flank, nudged her with a shoulder. "You gonna be alright for the festival tonight?"
She had been falling asleep on her hooves, and the touch made her jump. "Yeah." She nodded. "I haven't slept in like two days. Those shackles..." she gestured over her shoulder at the car. "Can't sleep with them. Can't sleep in trains..."
"You need somepony to escort you home, ma'am?" he asked, puffing his chest out a little. "I can call somepony, bring a car."
"N-No." Alex shook her head. "I've got it." She slapped herself with a hoof, then started walking past them. "Good work, Stalwart. I'll... get your report later."
The small town they were transforming into a pony city was still dominated by human-built structures. Careful attention maintained the streets of human asphalt and sidewalks of concrete, at least in the city center. The court building was the civic center, and even in the early morning she could see ponies coming and going. Those who noticed her waved, and she waved back, but ignored their gestures to come and talk. They could wait until she wasn't sleeping on her hooves.
She passed the pride of Alexandria, its library. It was just the little town's public library. It was easy to see where repairs had been made to the structure after she had blasted down one of the walls. The ceiling too was new, though she couldn't see that from the ground. Still felt guilty about it though.
It also had more guards than any other part of the city, making sure that none of the irreplaceable Equestrian books were “borrowed” and never returned. The library wasn't open yet, but the school was. She saw thestrals wrapping up their night of... whatever batponies did with their lives. She didn't actually understand.
All she knew was that the ponies best at their powers taught them in the converted high school. They called it a "university," though it failed to match the scale of a community college. She hoped it would be more, one day. Princess Luna probably would have hoped that too. Having a dozen or so actual Equestrians as teachers sure helped, though it had also contributed to some silly customs. One of these was the way many residents took "pony names" for themselves which they used in informal settings. Human names remained, reserved for formal or intimate moments.
As she had once predicted, the oldest inhabited part of Alexandria was the RV park. Every one of the two-dozen parking spots still had an RV or a trailer, and all were occupied. Even after they had gotten the city's water supply turned back on, even after the town's electricity was restored, she still lived in an RV.
She had upgraded from the little RV they had used back in Los Angeles to one of the beefiest 40 footers she could find. Even before they had finished with the water and power, the vehicle provided the luxuries of industrial society. Now, she was reluctant to move into one of the city's "real" houses for fear of the example she might set. If the city's mayor thought that a motor home wasn't good enough for her anymore, how many other residents would want permanent homes as well?
As it turned out, homes took much more energy to heat or cool than little motor-homes. The city's feeble grid wouldn't be able to handle the strain. Alex sighed as she entered the RV park, passing all the old tanks and water-compressors. Obsessing about every tiny aspect of her city was going to drive her to an early grave. At least, Oliver said so. He was mostly joking.
Still, there was one sound that could bring a smile to her face even in the face of weariness for her people and the weight of crushing exhaustion: Cody's voice. Even as she reached up for the rope tied to the handle, she could hear him through the glass. "Mommy!"
She felt a brief rush of energy, enough that she stopped swaying. She didn't climb the stairs, instead waiting for the little colt to come flying down them at her. And fly he did (though not literally), leaping over two of the steps and colliding with her chest. She rolled with the impact, catching him in her forelegs and letting him pitch her backward onto her back.
It didn't hurt. Earth ponies were tough, even adolescents. "Hi Cody." She held the colt to her chest, reacquainting herself with his scent after her absence. Her foal did the same, and neither of them thought about it. It was just part of being a pony.
Once she was sure he didn't smell sick or hurt, she mussed his brilliant orange mane and rubbed her face against his. "Is your father up?"
"Breakfast." The colt began squirming as soon as he was in her forelegs, and didn't stop until he was standing on his own. Like most of the other foals, he didn't wear anything practical. He had taken a liking to an oversized Cardinals cap he wore whenever he went out around town. "Breakfast! I want park after."
"That sounds like fun." She stifled a yawn, then scooped him up onto her back and climbed up the stairs into her home. "After mommy gets a nap. Unless your father wants to take you."
"Daddy's boring. I don't want to look at plants."
"Well then I guess you don't want breakfast, ‘cuz it's plants again. Here I thought you loved cantaloupe."
Alex felt the change at once on her back. The little colt started squirming again, rolling off the side and onto his own wobbly legs. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! I'm still hungry!"
She passed the colt, crossing the little kitchen to where Oliver was slicing cantaloupe. She didn't bother tugging him down from the stool, just pressed herself to his flank, head on his side, taking in his scent just as she had done with Cody's. Stallion, strength and musk and gentleness, plants and isopropanol. She took it all in, and it was good.
He didn't get down, just smiled and kept slicing. It wasn't as though they were newlyweds or anything (they weren't wed at all). Oliver, after all, was still part of the voluntary breeding program. But when he came home, it was to her, and their son.
A pity he didn't have an excuse not to participate, like she did. But the program had been his idea. How could other ponies be expected to volunteer if its creator was too good for it?
"I'll mkamke hmmm," Oliver tried to say with a plate in his mouth, hopping down from the step-stool and carrying it over to the table. He set it down in Cody's place. "You get some sleep. It's been slow at the hospital anyway. Only three patients right now, they'll be fine without me for a few hours." He carried the other two plates, then helped little Cody climb up the sizable step to sit in the human-designed seat.
Lonely Day followed. Though she didn't need help to hop into the raised seating area, she took it anyway, letting him lift her by his strong neck like another foal. Even now, his strength made her feel safer than the bolt on the door or the P90 in its safe under the bed.
As she bit into the first juicy bite of ripe orange melon, she thought his skill with earth pony magic didn't hurt either. She could do it too of course, but she didn't have a passion for it. Nothing she grew ended up quite as juicy as produce that had been loved. It wasn't just cantaloupe either, but honeydew and watermelon too. All from their own garden.
The breakfast might've seemed light to her as a human, but human Alex was long gone. Lonely Day sat right beside her son Arithmetic. That way, she was close enough to prevent the many many dinnertime disasters a foal could cause. All her tiredness from the duties of her office had to take a backseat. She couldn't sleep quite yet.
"You always smell funny when you go away," Cody said through a mouthful of melon. “Like somewhere scary."
"Not scary," she half-lied. It was wearing the magical-suppressing restraints that frightened her, not being around humans.
That was actually the best part about being the one to make the trips. The reminders that yes, humans had existed. Two legs were enough to balance. Eyes that small could see just fine. But how could she make a foal understand? "I was with humans, Arithmetic. Your father and I were both human once, remember? We weren't scary then."
"You weren't," Cody agreed. "Still smell scary now."
She shrugged and went back to her breakfast. She was too tired to deal with it now.
"I'm sure Cloudy would be happy to take him for a few hours," she offered, on her way to the shower. "If you're too busy."
He shook his head again. "Already said I'd take him. You need your energy back for the festival tonight. Get some sleep."
She did. She had earned that much.
* * *
It was late afternoon when Alex finally made her way into city hall. While many of the newer structures already showed minor signs of decay, the ancient masonry looked as sturdy as it had the day they arrived. Sky had her son, as she usually did whenever there was anything mayoral to be done. She would've preferred to stay home more often, like Cloudy. Pity there wasn't anyone qualified enough to replace her. She hated being in charge.
All Alexandria had just under a thousand ponies now, and a fair number of those were crowding in around city hall. Maybe adult Alex could've shoved her way through without any trouble, but young Alex was shorter than mares and stallions alike. Young Alex should've been well on her way to growing into old Alex, but she wasn't. She hadn't grown an inch since her return from Equestria. Instead of fight her way through, Alex just went around to one of the side doors, and used her key. Much easier than fighting past the butts of dozens of too-tall adults.
She did stop to admire their costumes, comparing them to her own. For the Festival of Tears, ponies dressed as humanly as they could. Ill-fitting pants and jackets and shoes made the crowd look like children that had all stolen their parents clothes, then given them to a tailor to make them fit. Alex felt lucky to have a friend like Cloudy Skies who could sew an outfit for her from scratch that looked human. The suit was something a businessman or a politician might've worn, with a white shirt over her forelegs and pants on her hindquarters. Even Taylor Gamble of the HPI had said she looked sharp in it (once she stopped giggling).
"Hey Alex." Moriah was working with the other electricians, checking and double-checking the cables leading to the platform outside. Like Alex, Moriah had gone to great pains to recreate a convincing "human" outfit, though she had chosen a dress instead of a suit. Alex could hear the quiet rumbling of music from a portable radio, one tuned to the frequency of The Overhead out in Colorado.
Moriah was hardly the only pony to listen to The Overhead. It wasn't a very competitive market, though some towns had a local frequency with announcements and news. Even so, nopony else had national coverage. Alex had been meaning to visit, when she got the chance. Maybe one day she could borrow a Hummingbird and hop over for a few hours. See what life would've been like if she'd had to build a settlement in a desert like her old home.
"Hi Moriah. Everything good with the system?"
Joseph spoke up from a computer station on the far wall. On it, she could see the outlines of the city's various systems, such as they were. Joseph hadn't grown taller in the last five years, though he had become a little portlier. "It's a PA, Alex. It's going to be working. It's always working." Joseph also had one of Sky's outfits, though he had done nothing (not even ask) to get a hold of it. He wore his suit without the jacket and with the collar all askew.
She shrugged, moving past both of them and looking at the locked door. "We'll keep thinking that until it stops. I like to know before I go out there; I make myself look stupid enough without our machines to do it for me."
She wished her other friends could be in city hall with her. They weren't, though. Only the town council or city staff could be in the courthouse after hours, that was just the way it worked. Of all her friends, Joseph had defied the odds and been elected. Alexandria's growing populace still saw him as the genius that kept their power on and the water flowing. Moriah worked for the town, alongside Joseph.
None of the others could be here. None of the ponies who might've calmed her nerves. Of course, she hadn't stayed mayor for years because she was easily intimidated. Even if there were hundreds of ponies outside.
Alex had no illusions: she knew the ponies hadn't come to hear her speak, not really. They were here for the festival, she just happened to be the one who got it started.
"Who's got the agenda?" she asked, searching the room for her assistant. She found him; a nervous-looking unicorn not much older than she looked. The colt levitated a clipboard close to her, and she scanned over it as quickly as she could. "Thank you, Quick Learner."
Alex did not bring the clipboard with her. Ever since her experiences with the Princesses of Equestria, her memory was perfect. She couldn't exactly carry on the memory of mankind if she couldn't even remember her own life!
"The radio transmitter's good," Joseph continued. "Link to the Iridium Intranet is green. We're ready."
"I'll see you all at our table." She took a deep breath, then passed through the double-doors to the outside. She continued up until she was on the edge of the raised platform, with its waiting microphone.
There was no roar of cheers; Alex was no mythical figure to these ponies. The best she got was a smattering of polite applause. If anything, she knew they were eager for her to get the speech over so the eating and socializing could begin.
"Ponies of Alexandria!" Though she had been nervous inside, her tone became clear. With a few final mutters, the conversations all around her died down. "It is my pleasure as mayor of Alexandria to welcome everypony to the Festival of Tears!" She looked out over the crowd, at the hundreds all dressed in their best humans costumes. Even the Equestrian ponies had joined in, though their outfits were particularly comical. Here and there a diamond dog or a minotaur poked out from the crowd, towering over the ponies around them
"For many of you, this will be your first festival. Allow me to explain. Five years ago today was the last day of human civilization. Twenty five thousand light years away, something changed in the structure of our galaxy. Magic exploded into the endless gulf of space. It would have meant our extinction, though we didn't know it."
"Our friends in Equestria did, and they did what they could to protect us. They created the Preservation Spell, the spell that changed us and sent us forward in time. Some of the tears we shed tonight are tears of gratitude and joy for our lives."
"The spell did more than change us, as all understand. It also separated us. It tore apart families, sent us away from our friends, and made us refugees in our own world. For this, we cry tears of sorrow and tears of anger."
"This year, and every year on the twenty-second of May, we pause from our work. We dig out our old clothes, we cook up our old recipes, and we remember humanity as it was. Today is a day for remembering. Remember your children, your parents, your friends, and don't be afraid to cry for them. Please know that even if we never live to see them, the legacy we build for them will leave them inheritors of a better world. Tonight we look across the gulf, backwards and forwards, to those we lost."
She closed her eyes, though she was much better about maintaining her composure than she had been. "We won't forget you!" she shouted to the crowd, with all the energy she had.
"You are remembered!" the crowd responded, booming so loud the stage shook beneath her hooves. The chant repeated and Alex joined in. She felt stronger with each call, her fatigue washed away in the energy of the moment.
When they finished shouting, Alex returned to the microphone. "Before the part of the festival I'm sure is everypony's favorite-" She glanced at the huge tables filled with food. The smells coming from the barbecues were already making her mouth water. "We have our vigil. Those of you who forgot candles can get them with one of the service ponies." She gestured to another set of tables, with several huge boxes of candles near them. "Follow me, people of Alexandria. Light your candles and follow me to the memorial."
Applause had been replaced with stomping. Stomp they did as Alex lifted up a candle-holder in her mouth and hopped down off the stage. The sound of ponies rising to their hooves, hundreds of scrapes and groans, echoed from behind her. Even so, she didn't turn around. Alex continued forward, staring at the names she had written on the candle. Her mother's name was there, and her sister's, and her brother's. She would remember them tonight. The people of Alexandria would remember those they had lost. And those who had joined them from Equestria? They had lost friends and family too, a universe away and forever out of reach.
Few indeed were those like Cloudy Skies, with no desire to look back. They carried no candles, though most of them (including Sky herself) dressed up anyway. It might be the Festival of Tears, but most of what they did was supposed to be fun!
Alex reached the many huge torches at the edge of the road, tilting her candle into the flame until it sparked and began to burn. The holder was made for a pony's mouth, so it kept the flame and the hot wax away from her face. Of course, unicorns and diamond dogs and others didn't need the modified design. Some of them just carried candles, sheltering the flames with magic or paws or claws.
Alexandria's mayor had no recourse to magic like that, which meant she used her mouth. She had long adapted to the indignity, so much so that she hardly thought of it anymore. It was just another part of life. Nopony spoke during the quarter-mile walk to the memorial.
The memorial had been a church, one of the largest and oldest in town. Ponies had cleared away the religious iconography though, save for the cross on the roof. As Alex drew near she saw thousands of flickering candles, burning with heatless magical flames. Not the one she carried. The doors were open and waiting for her, though she made sure she was even with the front of the crowd.
The pews were gone, the altar was gone. In its place was a slab of granite, carved with a simple message in a dozen human languages. All around it, tacked onto every wall and surface and littering the floor, were the memorials themselves. Each one was no bigger than a single piece of paper, containing a message written by a pony to their lost friends or relatives. Alex found the one she had made, with her old family photograph on it. She set her candle down, holder and all, on the floor in front of it.
She did her crying there, in front of the picture and the crowd of hundreds. They didn't notice. Alexandria's ponies had their own crying to do.
When the ritual was over, Alex found her friends at their table. There she enjoyed the latest pony-friendly imitations of human dishes. Her son had never known anything else. Of course, it was all she could do not to laugh whenever she looked at him. He looked like he had chosen his outfit at a halloween store.
Alex found it amusing how through no apparent conscious volition, all the mothers ended up on one side of the table with the children while the fathers ended up on another. She didn't resent it, not when there was a young pony to care for. Oliver meant well, but he had no idea of how to keep their young son from getting out of control. If he sat beside him, the foal would get food everywhere but into his mouth.
So she sat beside Sky, with Sky's little daughter Amy on her lap. On her other side was Richard, Moriah's son, then Moriah herself. It seemed the perfectly natural configuration for their little group. She found herself drifting down from her political considerations into their more mundane conversation, like a leaf landing in a pond.
“-yeah Sky, it sounds like a perfectly helpful idea,” Moriah was saying. “I’m sure I wouldn’t be the only one who would be willing to give up a few chits.” She glanced down towards Richard, pulling his hooves away from Alex’s satchel where it rested on the ground. “I would be concerned about the curriculum, however. What you’re talking about would be Dick’s school. And Cody’s too Alex, so don’t think this doesn’t matter to you.” She lowered her voice, muttering: “not that you don’t already trust him to Sky all the time.”
“Without reservation.” She reached down, patting little Cody on the head. He blushed at the attention, avoiding her eyes. “I wish I had enough time to be home more often. I’ve tried taking more time off…” and it had been a disaster. “Until I can, I trust Sky.” She frowned, looking over at her friend. “You asked about the daycare idea, huh?”
Sky nodded. “Including Arithmetic and Surefire, I’ve got nine foals so far. I think if there were any more, I’d probably need more ponies to help. Not that I think it will be that hard- I’ve got a few friends who seemed interested!”
“See the problem?” Moriah gestured across the table with a tofu drumstick. It wasn’t actual bone either, which was good. Either one would’ve made Alex too sick to eat. “Mare, foals, ponies. These kids aren’t going to know they’re really humans deep down. Not if they’re surrounded with that all day.” She leaned down, nudging her own son on the shoulder. “Dick, what’s the most important thing in the whole world?”
The child blinked, then began his familiar recitation. “To remember I’m really a person, not a horse.”
“That’s right!” Moriah hugged him lightly against herself. Unlike Cody, he didn’t seem embarrassed.
Alex just shook her head. “It’s important to remember. This holiday is all about remembering! But I don’t mind having Sky spend time with Cody. He’s better off for having friends his own age, and I’m better off because I can spend time keeping this city afloat. Besides, if you end up a school, you can still teach the ponies about human things, can’t you?”
Sky nodded. “I would! I will!” She glared at Moriah. “I’m not trying to brainwash anypony. I want everypony to be comfortable, even you. That’s why I asked!”
Moriah huffed, though she didn’t argue further.
“I’ll approve it tomorrow if you’re ready to start that soon,” Alex offered with a smile. “Probably you want to draft a formal proposal. Do you have a building in mind to use?”
Sky nodded. “There’s a daycare center, a pretty nice one. Nobody’s done anything with it since Alexandria was founded.”
“Well, you get that written up, and I’ll take a look.” She nodded, turning her attention back to her meal. After several minutes of relative peace, she felt Cody’s tug on her side, and she looked down. “What is it?”
The foal looked uncomfortable, so she lowered her head until he was willing to speak. “Why is everypony so excited?”
“That’s a very good question.” She rose to her hooves, leaving her half-eaten meal behind, and gesturing for him to do the same. She suspected Cody had mostly finished before she even arrived, so he didn’t protest. They walked together a little ways away from the table, where they could see the procession of ponies still moving with candles in the dark towards what had once been a church.
“How much do you remember of what your father and I told you?” She sat down on the edge of the grass, near some historical plaque or another they couldn’t read in the dark.
“That I needed to pick funny clothes.” He held out one of his forelegs, with a white sleeve now stained with grass and dirt. “I did! I got the funniest clothes I could!”
“You sure did.” She reached down to muss his mane again, and he pulled away in protest. “Today is the day people remember what it was like to be human.”
“But they aren’t!”
She took a moment to wrap her mind around what the child was trying to say. “No, they aren’t. But they were before.”
He shook his head again. “I thought h-huma- those. I thought those were only on the TV! Did everypony come from the TV? Did you?”
She had to fight not to laugh. “No, no we didn’t. But when those movies were made, everypony looked like that. The whole world changed, so we take one day to think about the way it was before it changed. Lots of us miss the ponies from before. Like… like your grandparents. I have a mother, and Oliver has a mother and father. They would love to meet you, but we’re sad because they might not get to.”
Cody didn’t look hurt by the revelation. How could he feel remorse for people he knew nothing about? “Oh.” He rose to his hooves, taking a few halting steps towards the procession. He didn’t make it off the grass before he stopped again. “So we dress up and do all this silly stuff because we’re sad?”
She nodded. “I guess you could say that.” She was beginning to fear the holiday might still be a little too complicated for him to understand. “You don’t have to be sad if you don’t want to.”
Her son considered that for several seconds before answering. “I… I’m sad I didn’t get to see what everypony misses so much,” he eventually finished. “It must’ve been awesome.”
Alex wrapped him in the tightest hug she could. “Not as awesome as you, Cody.”
He whined, though he didn’t fight to escape her this time. “Mooooooom! Quit it!” She did.
When they were full, she took the colt in his absurd gettup to the various carnival games. He won a disproportionate number for his age. Alex found Oliver before getting in line for the movie theater, and they sat together as a family while they waited for their show. Cody fell asleep. Life was good.
Then.