//------------------------------// // 7. Leap of Faith // Story: Final Mission // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// In bright, cheerful and pink letters, Pinkie’s Pies adorned the window. Inside, the remodeling was a work-in-progress. Pinkie opened the door and held it open for me. “I hope to be open for business in another week.” I pensively entered and looked around. Most of the shelves had been removed. A display case had been installed and another was in a state of assembly. “I’ve been looking for an opportunity like this for some time,” she self-consciously explained, “and, well…” I tried to give her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really, it is. I’m not blaming you for anything…” I winced. “Nor Lyra.” And in another six days or so, my candy shop will have never existed. Pinkie went behind the counter and to the door behind it. She looked at me. “Come upstairs. There’s some, uh, unfinished business to take care of.” I wondered what that could mean. I wondered if I really wanted to know. I followed. The furniture was gone from the living room. Lyra evidently took it all with her, and Pinkie had yet to replace it. She led me to the bedroom. That did have a bed and other furniture, but none of it was mine. Once at the spacious walk-in closet, she opened the door and waited for me to catch up. “All your belongings are in there. Lyra asked me to hold on to them in case you ever returned.” And there they were, in a back corner: my clothes, some books, a suitcase, bags full of stuff… And there they would stay, because what could I do with them? I was carrying enough around as it was. The rabbit’s offer came to mind. But even assuming she could collect these items when I wasn’t personally carrying them across a reset, it felt like admitting defeat. And what if I succeeded? Would I somehow get it all back? Pinkie was looking at me, waiting for some kind of response. “I-I appreciate that,” I said. “I’ll pick them up once I’m settled down.” A white lie would have to do. I backed out of the closet and turned my tail on it. Pinkie closed the closet door. “Are you staying in Ponyville? There’ll be many questions, of course.” I sighed. “I’m sure there will be.” I began walking out of what had become Pinkie’s bedroom. “Do you know how to contact Lyra?” Silence. I stopped and turned around. Please, not the sad eyes… “She doesn’t want you to.” My heart froze. “Why?” I whispered. Pinkie approached me, walking as if on eggshells. “She felt you had left her and had no intention of coming back.” She stopped in front of me. “A few of your prized possessions disappeared the same time you did.” Like that photo and a few other items, not to mention all my bits. “Me and the girls didn’t think it was that simple, but there was no convincing her.” She gave me an embarrassed look. “Anyway, it’s why she was so eager to sell this place and leave town. I wouldn’t have been able to afford it otherwise.” What cruel irony. She might have been here still if I hadn’t taken that stuff. I tried to solace myself with the fact that, soon enough, she wouldn’t ever have known I existed. It didn’t help. Maybe if I let the next reset return those items? But then nearly half-a-year would have passed since my disappearance, and she might be gone anyway—and I’d have no way of reclaiming those items. I had waited too long. “Trust me,” I grimly said. “I had no choice in the matter.” I resumed walking out of our former bedroom. “I won’t be staying in Ponyville,” I said. “I’m only here to get my affairs in order. After I talk to Twilight I’ll be leaving.” “That could be a problem.” I continued walking. “Did I hurt her too?” I asked half-sarcastically. “No… she’s in the Crystal Empire visiting her brother. She won’t be back for three more days.” I didn’t know what to do. I could return to the old castle and continue searching, hoping I’d find more hidden vaults, but the end result would be the same: without Twilight, I was stuck. I even considered letting Discord grant me access. Since the Element of Magic was out of town, perhaps I could persuade him to go full chaos mode and keep Celestia occupied while I examined the vault’s contents? Would he be willing to? It’d all reset overnight, after all. Too bad finding Discord had proven to be quite hard; each time I had seen him, it was only because he had wanted me to find him. So naturally, lacking better options, I let Pinkie talk me into tasting some of her pie experiments. We were downstairs in the back of the store, where the kitchen was. It looked much the same, except that a large oven replaced two of the huge floor-standing bowls I used to mix and cook large quantities of sugary syrups. Pinkie retrieved a pie from a cupboard and set it down on the counter. She got out a knife, but paused before slicing the pie. “Did you know there was a false bottom in that cabinet over there?” she asked, waving the knife at the cabinet in question. How in Equestria did she stumble across it? “Uh, yes? I don’t think anything was hidden underneath it.” There shouldn’t have been, as I had kept my makeshift monster-fighting kit in my saddlebags ever since I retrieved it. “No, there wasn’t,” Pinkie unknowingly confirmed. She began slicing the pie. “I knew it was there when my left ear and right eyebrow twitched.” I could only thank Celestia that Pinkie was not a monster. I’d swear she’d be unstoppable with that Pinkie Sense of hers. “I always get that when I come across a new home for Gummy.” Or maybe not. She put the knife down, lifted out a slice, put it on a plate and presented it to me. “Tell me what you think.” I took it, inspecting it. It was… different. “It’s my own creation: a chocolate cupcake and vanilla frosting pie.” She had somehow marbled vanilla frosting throughout a chocolate-cupcake-like filling, and wrapped it all in a pie crust. I took a bite. It pretty much tasted exactly as I had expected it to. “It’ll be a best seller,” I said, rendering judgement. “Will you be making more traditional pies as well?” “Oh, sure!” She fetched another pie from the cupboard. “This one’s a blueberry pie.” I could already smell the blueberries. “How do the Cakes feel about you competing with them?” She sliced the new pie. “That’s why I’m doing pies, because they don’t make them. Besides, they put up some of the money, so we’re actually business partners.” She hoofed me a new plate with a blueberry pie slice on it. “Something wrong?” she asked. “No… just thinking of something.” I was thinking that the opportunity she had taken advantage of wouldn’t exist once Lyra and I had never met. Nor would it exist if I successfully reversed the unraveling of my existence. It seemed like a cruel joke. Enjoy it while it lasts, Pinkie. On my way back to the Everfree Forest, I had stopped by Fluttershy’s cottage. I had been less than surprised when the draconequus hadn’t been there. Fluttershy couldn’t say if he’d be around later that day. I didn’t bother waiting; he knew how to find me if it pleased him. Zecora’s home was not far ahead. This time, I would not avoid it. It was time to discover what the shaman might know, whether any of the legends and myths of her people had any bearing on my situation. I found the zebra outside collecting herbs. She noticed my approach and paused her work, her eyes narrowing as she recollected my somewhat familiar face; she had been an occasional customer of mine. “Could it be Bon Bon that I see? Quite a surprise I find it to be.” Ah, yes, the rhyming. I couldn’t imagine how she said everything in flawless rhyme. I began talking as I closed the distance between us. “I’m guessing you heard about my disappearance a few months ago. It’s a long story. I could use your advice, actually, if you have time to spare.” “Time I have in abundance,” she said, giving me a warm smile. “Welcomed are you to my guidance.” She took the handle of a basket in her mouth, a basket already quite full of various leaves and flowers, and led me back to her home. It was a minute away at her untroubled pace. We entered her home, as I wondered who had carved it out of the trunk of this incredibly thick tree. Inside there were strange masks hanging from the walls, and tables and shelves full of herbs, powders, and potions. In the middle of the room was a large cauldron, full of some exotic brew, bubbling away. Zecora set down the basket on a table, next to a kettle. She got out two cups and poured the contents of the kettle into each one in turn. Walking over to me, she offered one to me, which I accepted. “Thanks.” Half-afraid it was something… exotic, I gave it a quick sniff. It was just tea, jasmine from the smell of it. “Do you have something I can write on?” I asked. “It would help me explain my situation.” With a silent nod, she retrieved a pad of paper and a quill from a cupboard and brought them to me. I drew the infamous runes, including two that had only been on the time stunner, as the zebra watched with interest. “Do you know anything about these?” Zecora hummed quietly as she studied them. “I cannot say what these runes do, only that they predate equines is most true. Ancient and powerful by ancestors shown, thought to have caused creation itself by deities unknown.” I mentally sighed. Do you have to be so cryptically mystical about it? Legends or mythologies are all nice and well, but even assuming it was literally true, how did it help me? To be honest, it was one of the reasons I had put off seeing her. Regardless, none of what the shaman had said was hard to swallow. One need only consider the effects those runes had on time itself, never mind what they were doing to my own existence. Zecora looked up at me, prompting me with her eyes to tell her more. As she mindfully sipped her tea, I gave her the short version of what had happened to me, starting with the bugbear attack on Ponyville and on up to my recent conversation with the unicorn rabbit. I left out The Agency and its weapons; my story was complicated enough as it was. I enjoyed my tea as she digested my story. I had to hoof it to her; she took it all in stride, as if I was retelling an ordinary vacation to Manehattan. “I don’t suppose you happen to know of a potion that would cure me?” She returned to that cauldron and gave it a stir, not immediately answering my question. “No,” she finally said. What, not even you can rhyme a single word? She poured in a measured quantity of yellow powder. “But perhaps there is an alternative, if seemingly preposterous, scenario.” Postponed rhyming aside, she had my attention. “I’m listening.” “Jump into a patch of poison joke; you may be surprised what that might provoke.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “And what would that accomplish, other than making me come back here for the cure?” She calmly continued stirring. “A monster may be either animal or plant; and now, to you, any ill will all must recant.” That was quite a leap of faith. Sure, the bugbear wouldn’t attack me, but all monsters? On the other hoof, Zecora has lived in this forest for years, seemingly immune to its dangers. Could I really dismiss the idea that she knew what she’s talking about? Yet there was one small flaw with this—for lack of a better word—plan. “If poison joke considers me off limits, then what purpose is served by exposing myself to it? Would anything even happen?” She had a ready answer, her gentle smile not wavering. “Poison joke by its nature must prank; if not you, then on its masters’ chains it shall yank.” That… uh, yeah… “seemingly preposterous” was right. As far as I was concerned, the only reason poison joke would do nothing to me was because it couldn’t think of a bigger joke than the one I was already suffering. “I shall provide you with the cure, so that you may act once you are sure.” I stared at the sea of blue flowers waving in the slight breeze. Their deceptively pleasant scent surrounded me. This is totally crazy. But I had the cure in my saddlebags, and while the chosen joke could be quite embarrassing, it was generally harmless. Wash it off with that special shampoo, and you were as good as new. I wouldn’t even have to worry about the embarrassment, since I’d be all by myself in that castle. Nopony would remember it the next day anyway. What would that plant consider a good joke to play on me? I had to admit I was curious. Might it reveal something useful, especially if the joke was instead played on those hypothetical monster masters? I could swear those flowers were staring back at me, daring me to touch them. Could their magic even work on me? It only takes effect overnight, which was when the reset occurred; after that, they would have never touched me, had never come up with a joke for me. I could stand here all day, but that wasn’t going to answer any questions. There’s only one way to find out. I walked into the poison joke.