//------------------------------// // 2. A Second Opinion // Story: Final Mission // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// Definitely not a good sign. “Don’t just stand there, come in, take a seat.” The princess kept her gaze fixed on me. Not knowing what else to do, yet dreading the conversation I was about to have, I walked over and sat down at the table. “Four days,” I managed to say. Not three days. That meant I had “disappeared” two days before the wedding, not the day before. A scary pattern was developing. Luckily for me, I did not survive The Agency by going into denial when stuff got scary. “You’re not sure?” Twilight’s voice was suddenly full of concern. “What happened to you?” Right. How could I not know when I vanished, unless something truly awful had happened to me. I didn’t know what to say, yet, so I said nothing. “We’ve had search teams looking everywhere for you. Lyra’s been worried sick about you.” That made me grimace. Of course she would be. And the worst part was, would it matter if I tried to explain it to her? Those runes had really done a number on me, and I was back to square one with the only pony who might have been able to help me. Spike brought me a glass of orange juice. “Thank you,” I said. I drank it, slowly, using the time to sort out my options. Twilight used that as an excuse to continue talking. “Actually, I’m surprised you were able to get into the castle without being noticed. The search teams are being coordinated from a room on the ground floor.” I had to say something. I could try repeating the conversation I had with her the previous day—a day that had been wiped from existence—but that would only result in the same sequence of events taking place, events that had led nowhere by the end of the day. I wasn’t going to fall into that trap. What needed to happen today was something that did not happen yesterday: for Twilight to go to the Canterlot Archives and look up those runes. I pointed at the notebook beside an open book. “May I borrow that? I have something to draw for you.” The notebook flipped itself to a blank page, then slid across the table to me. A quill followed. I drew once more the runes that started all this. A sickening feeling told me it was unlikely to be the last time. Once I had finished, Twilight retrieved the notebook and studied the runes with great interest. “Don’t bother looking them up in your library. You already tried yesterday and found nothing.” As expected, she looked up at me, not knowing what to make of the apparently absurd statement I had just made. “It’s some kind of temporal spell that was used on me two days ago. It seems to be erasing one day of my past for each day that passes.” Her muzzle scrunched. “That’s… magic I’ve never heard of before. Not even Star Swirl the Bearded had hinted at magic like that.” Great. This wasn’t going as well as I had hoped. “There should be some leftover magical residue in you. I just need to run some tests—” “Don’t bother,” I said, preempting a way too lengthy checklist. Twilight put two and two together. “I did that… ‘yesterday’ as well… and found nothing?” I nodded. “What you didn’t have was a chance to visit the Canterlot Archives.” She blinked. “No… I suppose I wouldn’t.” Spike placed an omelet in front of me. I helped myself to a bite. “Not that I want to doubt you, but do you have any evidence this actually happened?” I couldn’t blame her, really. So what if I had drawn some random runes, runes that conveniently wouldn’t be found in any book she possessed, and then say that any test she could run would find nothing? It’d be easy to believe I was making it all up. I was disturbingly close to being declared crazy by a princess—or worse. “Well… the reason nopony noticed me on the ground floor was because I spent the night in a guest room, the one you had put me in.” “Which I don’t remember doing,” she countered. Wasn’t that the whole point? I countered back with: “The guest room does have a slept-in bed.” “So you snuck into the castle yesterday instead of this morning.” I took another bite as I thought it over. Twilight had admitted she wouldn’t have had a chance to visit the Archives. I could take a good guess as to why. Looking her straight in the eye, I said, “You can’t leave Ponyville because the bugbear is in the area.” Her jaw dropped. Bingo. She quickly recovered. “You saw it, didn’t you, in the alternate timelines.” Nopony had ever said Twilight Sparkle was stupid, and for good reason. “The details don’t matter.” Keeping this conversation focused did. “You need to visit the Archives and research those runes. It should be okay; since they were used on me, that monster has stayed out of Ponyville.” “You think they’re connected?” “I don’t really know.” I looked down at my half-eaten meal. “But it’s one heck of a coincidence if they’re not.” The princess stood up. “I’ll need to check the latest status report on the bugbear, but I’ll do my best to get to Canterlot.” “And get back to me with what you find before the day’s over,” I pointed out. “Yes,” she uncomfortably said. “And that.” Twilight put bookmarks in all her open books, closed them, and arranged them into a single stack. “Just so you know: By Royal Decree, you are forbidden from mentioning the bugbear to anypony else.” “Believe me,” I droned, “I understand how sensitive a subject this is.” The stack of books floated to the her side as she stared at me, seeing me as if for the first time. “Why you?” “Huh?” “Why were the runes used on you? What’s your connection to all of this?” “That’s a very good question,” I ambiguously replied. Twilight sighed. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” The notebook went on top of the books and Twilight left the kitchen. Not that I questioned Twilight’s competence—far from it—but I felt a second opinion was called for. I knew just who to ask, and I had a pretty good idea how to find him. The princess had not given me permission to leave the castle while she was in Canterlot, researching away, but in this version of reality she had never told me to stay inside. Yet I wasn’t stupid; Spike provided me with a hoodie and dark sunglasses to mask my appearance. Fortunately, I didn’t have to go into town and deal with all the questions my sudden reappearance would raise; that disguise wouldn’t fool anypony right in front of me. As I approached her cottage at the edge of the Everfree Forest, I found Fluttershy watering the flowers. The sound of my approach startled her. “Eeeep!” The dropped watering can spilled its contents over the ground. I quickly lowered the hoodie, revealing my head. “It’s okay, Fluttershy. It’s only me.” She took a moment to gather herself. Hard to believe this was the same pony who aided the other Element Bearers in fighting the bugbear. “Oh my… you came, just like he said you might.” I blinked. She waved her head to the cottage’s door. “He’s inside.” That was… unexpected. Yet it might be good news. If he knew anything about what was happening, I might actually get answers. On the other hoof, if he was in any way responsible for what had happened… One step at a time, I told myself. “Thanks,” I replied. Fluttershy left to refill the watering can as I went up to the door. I was reaching for the handle when it gently opened by itself. No colorful aura surrounded the door, but then why would there be? Pensively I stepped inside. Once I had crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me. Typical. Well, it was going to take more than that to rattle me. After removing the sunglasses, I saw him. The draconequus was lying down on the sofa, munching away on buttered popcorn. What animal’s milk the butter had been made from was unclear, but somehow I doubted it came from a cow. And let’s not get started on the species of the “corn.” Whatever. It was all par for the course for Discord. Best not to give him the satisfaction. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” I said, attempting to take command of the situation. Hunting monsters had been my job, and the creature in front of me had once been arguably the worst monster of all. Some still say he was, reformed or not. In response, he enthusiastically sat up. The bowl of popcorn flashed, to be replaced with an even bigger bowl full of supersized popcorn. “I do love a good chase scene!” he said with a toothful smile. He stuffed a single piece of popcorn into his mouth, that being all that would fit in his claw. I quickly looked around me, half-afraid that something might literally chase me. You could never be sure with this one. There was nothing. Yet his gaze was locked on me as if I was barely keeping ahead of a pride of ravenous manticores. I had never personally dealt with Discord before. He had been a stone statue while The Agency existed. But I knew him by reputation and, theatrics aside, he was asserting that a “chase” was indeed happening, metaphorically if not literally. “Fine, I’ll bite: what’s chasing me.” The bowl disappeared, spilling the contents everywhere, which then evaporated. “Nonexistence,” he declared, standing up. “Haven’t you figured it out?” He walked around me, intently studying me. “I thought Sunbutt only picked the smart ones for her ‘Agency.’” “How do you know about that?” I demanded. “Even Twilight doesn’t know.” Technically true, as that conversation had been wiped from existence. “You were a garden ornament at the time it was dismantled.” “Ah, yes, the dismantling,” he said, ignoring the question. “Celestia’s gambit to protect you all.” He poked me on the forehead. “Might have worked too, except you flunked the test.” “Test? What test!” He sat down. “You tell me. In this reality, it hasn’t happened.” And disobey a direct Royal Decree? I wasn’t going to do that, not yet. Besides, something Fluttershy had said… “How did you know I would come to see you?” “Call it an educated guess,” he replied. “Warping reality is my speciality”—he demonstrated by snapping his talons, covering every surface in garish, stripped colors, then with another snap undid his redecoration—”and you had become the epicenter of such a warp.” “Yet Twilight couldn’t find any trace of the magic used on me.” Discord shrugged. “Can’t say I’m surprised. This magic is of a different order than what ponies know about.” Which didn’t bode well for Twilight’s search of the Archives. Nonetheless, Discord did know of it. That was useful to know. And not just Discord… “What about unicorn rabbits?” I asked, daring him to deny knowledge of such a thing. He put a talon to chin, stroking it. “One of those was assigned the task, eh?” “One of what?” Discord sighed. “It’s not my place to tell you. When you see it again, just keep in mind it was only doing its job.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not his place? What the hay did that mean? When I saw it again, not if? Somehow I doubted he would elaborate, but maybe there was still a way to get more information out him. “The test.” He quirked an eyebrow. Good, he was paying attention. “I think it had to do with a monster attacking Ponyville.” No need to mention which monster, thus honoring the Decree. “A monster I had previously captured but then escaped.” I paused a moment, to see if he’d volunteer anything. He didn’t. “Twilight and her friends had fought it.” Discord remained silent, content to let me continue. “I’m kind of curious. You’re reformed, right? Why wouldn’t you have helped? I’m sure you could have captured it with one paw tied behind your back.” He just sat there, giving me a cryptic smile. “It’d go a long way towards improving your reputation.” Still nothing. “Fluttershy had put herself in danger.” “Nice try,” he finally smirked. “It so happens I have total faith in the abilities of Twilight and her friends. How could I deny them the opportunity to rise up to a challenge?” The draconequus got to his mismatched feet and raised his claw. Just before snapping his talons, he paused. “You needn’t worry about the bugbear anymore,” he said, and with a snap, vanished. I had much to ponder as I walked back to the castle. Despite Discord’s final words, the hoodie and sunglasses kept me disguised. There were too many interpretations—and misinterpretations—to risk doing otherwise. As I entered the castle’s main hallway, a soldier of the Royal Guard stopped me. “Sweetie Drops?” he asked in a no-nonsense tone. I nodded. That he used my real name was telling. “Princess Celestia requests your presence. The chariot is on the balcony upstairs.”