In the Golden Oak Library, a meeting was taking place about the latest monster to threaten Ponyville. By now, that hardly seemed unusual. What was different in this particular case was that the monster in question was sitting at the table. His name was Spike, a baby dragon and librarian Twilight Sparkle’s number one assistant. At most times he was smaller than most ponies, only coming up to the shoulder even of fillies like Sweetie Belle. But in one recent incident, the power of the Driver had transformed him into a giant draconequus, driven only by instincts beyond his power to control, while Rarity and Rainbow Dash had found themselves helpless passengers inside his consciousness.
The ponies around the table now were Twilight Sparkle, who Spike felt had a right to know what had happened, and the two who had been directly involved. The remaining Champions of Harmony hadn’t been invited this once. Spike insisted that for reasons he still couldn’t disclose, they couldn’t trust even their closest friends with this information. If they told the whole group about the dragon’s secret mission, the organisation distributing Gaia Memories would find out. Twilight had started wondering if some of the dopants might have mind reading powers or something; it was easier to accept keeping secrets if the information needed to be in as few minds as possible, rather than having to actually suspect one of her closest friends.
The debate was just about winding down now, and the topic had somehow got onto the flavours of different kinds of gemstones. They had all learned as much as Spike could tell them about the Driver, which turned out to be mostly things they’d already known. It was a little frustrating to think that he’d known a few things about the Driver – and how Gaia Memories worked – that they’d had to discover through trial and error. But Twilight was eager to remind everypony that he’d done exactly what Princess Celestia, the wise and benevolent ruler of Equestria, had told him to do. They couldn’t fault him for that.
There was a knock at the door. They’d locked it just this once because they didn’t want any interruptions during their debate of important monster-fighting matters, and earlier in the day they had been watching over Rarity’s little sister and her friends to make sure they didn’t get into any more trouble. In the circumstances they probably shouldn’t have let the girls run out of the library to cause more chaos, but they’d dashed off with little warning, and sounded like they were going about finding their cutie marks in a constructive way for a change.
Rarity went to open the door, and found the Cutie Mark Crusaders outside, accompanied by Applejack.
“Oh, no,” Rarity immediately found her mind jumping to a worst-case scenario, “What have they done now?”
“I don’t know,” Applejack shrugged, “These girls asked me how I got my cutie mark, I figured that’s a pretty smart way for them to do their crusading. Then they got all excited and said I got to come see you.”
“There’s a problem,” Apple Bloom sounded fairly certain, “Maybe it’s another one of those monsters?”
“You’d better come in,” Twilight quickly made sure there were no notes around about their earlier meeting, “Should we call the others too?”
“I don’t know if we need to or not,” Applejack shrugged, “Let’s see what the fillies have to say first. I’m getting awful confused.”
“Where did Pinkie go?” Sweetie Belle looked around them, realising that their party had lost a pony at some point on the way to the library.
“I’ll go find her,” Scootaloo volunteered, then immediately dashed outside.
“Should we wait for them to get back?”
“No, you need to know what’s happened,” Sweetie Belle saw the possibility for the meeting to turn into an unproductive mass of small-talk, and spoke confidently to take control. “Then if there’s a problem, you can decide what to do about it.”
“Okay. So what’s the story so far?” Twilight asked, “Should we ask AJ first, then you girls can fill in the blanks? As the Element of Honesty, I’m sure we can rely on her to give a concise and accurate account of the parts she was present for.”
“Sounds good to me,” Applejack glanced at the fillies, who gave a shrug and a nod, “But there ain’t that much to say. I saw these three outside Sugarcube Corner, and went over to make sure they’re not getting into any more trouble. They said they’re going round asking folks how they got their cutie marks, so I told them my story. And they seemed upset, they said there’s something wrong with what I said, something wrong with Pinkie too.”
“How did you get your cutie mark?” Rainbow Dash asked, “We’ve been friends so long, but I don’t think you ever said.”
“Well, that’s because there’s not much of a story to it. I’ve worked on that farm all my life, and it just kind of snuck up on me. One day I realised I was going to be there forever, and I care enough to protect my farm and my family, and my friends too, no matter what. That’s all there is to it.”
“That sounds about what I’d expect,” Twilight nodded, “If there’s anypony more dependable than Applejack, I’d call that a miracle.”
“So how long did it take you to tell us that story?” Apple Bloom asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe an hour or so? I think we had a couple of cakes while I was talking.”
“So what details did you put in to make that tale last an hour?” Applejack bit her lip, and realised she couldn’t think of anything else she could say. Then her little sister continued: “You told us a story about going travelling to find yourself, and staying with Uncle Orange in Manehattan. You told us about slowly getting homesick, and all the little things that started bugging you, building up more and more until you couldn’t take it any more. You told us about seeing a huge rainbow, like the brightest splash of colour you’ve ever seen, back towards Ponyville, and how you decided it was an omen and came all the way home, and how as soon as you saw the sign for Sweet Apple Acres you knew that home was what you’d been missing, and you’d never leave again. You told us that was the moment your cutie mark appeared, like a reward for finding what had been right under your nose.”
“I said all of that?” Applejack seemed more confused than anypony else at that point, “I mean, I can see how it might be inspirational and all, but you really think I could come up with a tall tale like that on the spot? Do you want to go visit Aunt Orange, or something? You could just say.”
“I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle answered, “The way you said it, I could see the emotions on your face, I’d swear you were telling the truth then. And you described every little detail so well. I could practically see you cringe when you described your Aunt setting out a Prench-style table setting for some dinner, and you didn’t know which fork to use for eating your melon balls.”
“Now I know you’re kidding,” Applejack didn’t seem to be amused, though, “There’s no way I’d say that, I don’t even know how Prench ponies set a table.”
“With the knives and forks arranged in order by the number of courses, those used for the starter placed farthest from your plate,” Rarity offered, “and the water and wine glasses placed in order of size.”
“Yeah, that’s what you described, sis,” Apple Bloom nodded, “You didn’t know what to call it, but you could remember where the things were.”
“That’s just…” Applejack mumbled, and started over, “Well, I don’t know what to think. Can’t I have a simple cutie mark, without some story behind it?”
“I’m sure you can,” Twilight offered, “But I think it’s more common for there to be some kind of event that stands out in your mind. It might not be a big deal to everypony else, but it feels like a big deal to you. I mean, my special talent is magic, my cutie mark shows some magical flashes and stars, and I spent my whole childhood studying magic until I understood it as well as I do, so you might think I just grew into my talent. But even for me, there was one special day when I really knew this was what I was meant for. I’d always hoped I could have a talent for magic, but my parents were still uncertain until the day I took my entrance exam…
Twilight Sparkle was a gifted unicorn. Her parents always told her that she was special, that she would be the most talented in her generation. But even so young, she was vaguely aware of that as a thing that proud parents always said. She’d tried every single style of magic known to ponykind, and still found nothing. If she had a talent for some branch of magic, then it must be one of the forbidden types that were only detailed in the black, leatherbound tomes kept in Canterlot’s Forbidden Library. She would have tried those too, just to find out if her special talent lay in that direction, but she didn’t want to end up with a lockpick as her cutie mark.
She’d probably worried more about finding her talent than most of the other fillies her age, if only because her parents were so sure that it would be some kind of magic. While more than a few of her peer group were trying everything that they thought might lead to a new skill, she was actively avoiding anything that she thought might end up revealing a cutie mark other than the specific category she was certain she was destined for; though there were few enough activities in her schedule that didn’t revolve around her studies in any case.
She knew that she was a gifted unicorn. But having to prove that before the staff at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was a whole different matter. Here, everypony was special, and everypony was a genius. She would have to show them something really, really special if she wanted to have her gifted status officially recognised. She’d been practising for months, learning complex spells from every grimoire she could get her hooves on. It really didn’t help that she had no idea what kind of tests she would be facing.
The preliminary tests were easy enough. She knew that it would be a challenge to some, but she could hardly focus on the magic when she knew that the ‘real’ test would be coming later. The setting for the final test was a classroom, quite unlike the ones in most other schools. The desks were arranged in tiers, ensuring that everypony could see the chalkboard at the front of the room over the heads of the row in front. Every desk was wide enough for a full spread of notes and textbooks, and just wide enough to stop students from easily talking amongst themselves. Of course, here the classes were for focusing on the teacher, and young Twilight Sparkle had to approve of that. She would have time to make friends once she had gained her cutie mark, become Equestria’s leading expert on whatever school of magic it represented, saved the world from some unknown threat, and become an immortal alicorn. Fraternising was a good way to develop early social skills, but it was not something that should be happening during a magic class.
Today, as a tutor who’d introduced himself as Small Grove led Twilight into the classroom, the many tiers of desks were mostly empty. A few more tutors were watching from the back, their desks each bearing a stack of reports on the prospective students who had already passed through. To one side was Princess Celestia herself, her coat almost glowing white and all the colours of the sunset glowing in her mane. Twilight had never even seen her in person before, and the fear she had been trying to ignore suddenly bordered on panic. But on the other side of the group of tutors was Twilight Velvet, her smile always reassuring.
Twilight Sparkle was nervous on this important day, of course. But she couldn’t let her mother down, and that certainty gave her the confidence to look at the problem in front of her. There was no problem written on the chalkboard, which stretched the full height of the room and clearly required the teachers’ telekinetic abilities to use even a fraction of its area. But behind what must be a teacher’s lectern, there was a small package which turned out to be an egg sitting on a nest of straw.
“Your test,” Small Grove indicated the egg, “The question is a simple one: in what way can we bring about the hatching of this egg? You may demonstrate if necessary.”
Twilight Sparkle nodded, and walked closer to the egg. She didn’t touch it just yet; she just paced around and looked. In among books of magic, she’d had the occasion to read many different texts. One of them had contained pictures of the eggs of different birds, but the texture or the colour, none of them quite matched here. Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying only to let herself calm down a little, and then the image she needed hovered in front of her mind’s eye. From a different book entirely, about the history and politics of… dragons.
She looked again at the dragon egg. Now she was looking for it, the scaly texture around the tip was unmistakable. She’d never seen a spell to hatch a dragon egg, but if it was something she could just find in a book then the whole test would be too easy. Naturally, for a special school like this they couldn’t let anypony solve the problem by chance, so it would be a spell known only to specialists in dragon biology, of whom there were few enough in Canterlot that any relevant books in the library must be kept off the public shelves, or at least in an age-restricted collection. The latter seemed more likely, as they wouldn’t encourage candidates to do something that was otherwise considered forbidden magic.
She paced slowly around the egg, looking at it from every angle but not really seeing. Her mind was running a mile a minute as she went through all the possibilities.
“The pass rate on this test is low,” she spoke aloud, and found that her speculation seemed a lot more solid that way, “Trade negotiations with the Dragon Lands are still in their early stages, and there are very few dragons in Equestria, so it’s unlikely you have a ready supply of eggs to hatch. Or, indeed, any established emigration path to deal with the hatchlings when they’re grown. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dragon of any size in the city, which must mean that any who are hatched as a result of this test must remain within the school before being repatriated. That will take a massive amount of bureaucracy. So if I can’t solve this it doesn’t mean failure, it means there’s another test.”
She was aware of the tutors looking at her now, almost staring. It must be unusual for a student to look at the background to the problem as well as the problem itself. She wasn’t sure if that would give her any hints, but the absence of the book from the library’s public shelves probably would. Back then, of course, she would never have considered that the book was absent because it didn’t exist; or that the hatching of an egg was a part of the miracle of childbirth, and so resistant to magical tampering. Her personal philosophy would never let her admit that the correct answer was “It’s impossible, you just have to wait.”
She probed the egg with her magic, looking for signs of elemental energies in the shell, or life energy within. But like the armour scales of a full-grown dragon, the shell was extremely resistant to magic of all kinds, and she couldn’t sense any echo back from the powers she directed at it.
“If magic doesn’t work,” she whispered to herself, hoping the distinguished observers didn’t hear the less than scientific mantra, “you’re not using enough magic.” But for all the power she threw at this thing, there seemed to be no response. After ten minutes, and a dozen spells tried, she felt the shell creak and wondered if she was in danger of smashing the egg with brute force. She looked up at the tutors; some of them had a clear look of disappointment about them, which was enough to convince Twilight that she was on the wrong path.
She stopped trying to force her power into the shell, reasoning that precision and subtlety might be the key. Of course, she knew, the spell existed somewhere even if the books were out of her reach. And knowing that their students couldn’t know the answer to this problem, the teachers must assume that a sharp enough mind would be capable of replicating its creation. It couldn’t be high ritual, then… or could it? Maybe the instruction that she might demonstrate, rather than should, was a circumspect way of allowing that the solution might be too time consuming to actually perform, without giving the students a clue by saying so directly. But she couldn’t say that without some kind of evidence to support the theory.
She was sure she was the sharpest student of her generation, at least, so creating whatever spell was needed shouldn’t be beyond her. And the word ‘sharp’ stuck in her mind there. No amount of brute force could smash a diamond, but a jeweller could break them with a blade aimed at precisely the right spot. Maybe she could find a solution with brute force, but it would be a better demonstration of her gifts if she could find the right place. She tried to remember any detail about dragons, and how they treated their eggs. There had to be some clue there. If the egg responded somehow to something in its environment, to temperature or humidity to let it know when it was safe for the baby to come out, then she might be able to simulate those conditions. But she couldn’t remember reading anything on the biological mechanisms that triggered an egg to hatch.
Twilight lifted a piece of chalk and started some calculations on the board. Temperature might be a bit difficult, but she could at least extrapolate the strengths of the background magical fields of the Dragon Lands. She didn’t know if it would help at all, but she had to hope that the methodical way she worked through possible solutions would impress the tutors until she found the right answer. There were all kinds of factors she could change; magic, temperature, wind, background noise. And one by one she extrapolated the conditions in a dragon’s normal habitat from what she already knew, or in one case from a poster map among other displays of student work at the sides of the classroom. But still, an hour later nothing had changed.
Then she tried to see if she could trick her way around the egg’s defences. It would protect itself against magic, of course, but she didn’t want to break it, just to find out what made it tick. So she cleared an area of the desk, and built a little pile of the wood chips that had been used to keep the egg stable. Then she focused her mind, so carefully, and teleported the egg a foot to the left. That drained almost all of her magical energy, leaving her feeling tired and shaking slightly. Though her powers were already formidable, she had nothing but the greatest respect for ponies with the energy to manage a teleport farther than the width of a room.
And then, without the protection of the shell to interfere with her readings, she started to scan the residual magical imprint in the space the egg had formerly occupied. Maybe the shell blocked all magic coming in, but that was to protect the unborn dragon rather than avoid scrying. There was no reason for it to clean up the faint traces of energy that it left behind.
There was some muttering between the teachers now, so they clearly understood what she was trying even though there was no mention of it in the books. But did they approve of her methods? There was no way to tell, and Twilight Sparkle was at least disciplined enough to try working the problem rather than getting distracted by anypony else’s opinion of her. The echo of the egg had so many different types of energy in it. Different elements, colours, and flavours of magic, each with its own unique qualities. Dragon, rock, crystal, fire, and something else she couldn’t quite identify. Knowing the magical fingerprint of the egg, she thought maybe she might stand a better chance. She constructed an abstract cradle using the same fingerprint of energies, as closely as she could manage, and saw the glow around her horn shade from pink to light mulberry. She wrapped the magic around the egg, and tried to let her thoughts synchronise with the mind of the infant within.
There was nothing. The egg no longer rejected her power, didn’t push her away. She could feel the different parts of a biological mechanism that had evolved over millions of years to protect a baby dragon until he was ready to be hatched. But the mind, the nascent soul, the life force of the dragon… the three most important elements were missing. She knew there was no trickery here, not something screening the lifesigns from her. She could feel the inanimate mass at the heart of what should have been a cradle of life. This egg was already dead.
Twilight was almost ready to turn around to tell the tutors she couldn’t complete their test. Magic was incredible, but there was no way to give life to a dead thing. But then the treacherous thought at the back of her mind, the mantra she’d repeated for so long, came to mind.
‘If magic doesn’t work…’ but that would be crazy. There were tasks that were beyond miracles, and creating new life was certainly beyond a pony of her age. If there was a spell that could do it, it would be immediately forbidden. But she couldn’t give up on this task. There was still a part of the magical signature she didn’t understand.
“There’s no life in this egg,” she muttered, wondering if that would satisfy the examiners. It didn’t satisfy the insatiable curiosity of Twilight Sparkle, though, and that said, she turned back to the egg. She focused on it, thinking more closely, letting her mind go deeper and deeper into every recess of what might be called the spirit of the egg. There was something wrong here, she knew, and her pride wouldn’t let her step back until she understood it. She let herself sink deeper and deeper, understanding it so intimately that for a moment she didn’t even know who she was except for a dragon egg. But there was still something she didn’t recognise, something that shouldn’t be there. It was like a poison, that had somehow become a part of the ecosystem inside the egg. Alien, crystalline, angry, but somehow… she knew she wasn’t seeing the full picture. She was dimly aware that somepony was speaking to her, and she pulled her mind out just a little to hear what they had to say. She couldn’t leave a mystery unsolved, though.
A boom sounded, echoing across the city. It was really just a dull rumble, and maybe somepony could have thought it was distant thunder if it weren’t for the waves of rainbow light instead of a flash. It should only have been a small distraction, but the light and sound was accompanied by a shockwave of magical energy that had barely diminished between Canterlot and wherever the distant epicentre was. It was a very strange energy, something Twilight Sparkle had never felt before in all her studies. A tiny analytical part of her mind felt the wave of every possible colour, the uncontrolled power, the dull boom, and remembered a word from a book she’d read long ago: Rainboom.
But most of her mind wasn’t analytical in that moment. It was open, reaching out to feel something from the egg, trying to pick up every last fragment of magical energy so she wouldn’t miss any detail that could help solve this mystery. Her mind was wide open, and the burst of energy flooded her body and mind, overwhelming any attempt at thought. Her identity was lost in the swirling wash of raw power, the power to live, the power to create, and though it was less than a second it felt like an eternity. There was a unique quality to this wave of power, as well. Maybe it had changed something, or awakened a different type of magic within her, the sensations were so confused and intense that even afterwards she couldn’t make head or tail of what had happened. But she felt a little fragment of a type of power that could be compatible with the unexpected part of that egg. On instinct she connected the two together through her own mind, and the rush of pure vitality almost made her black out. The wave of rainbow-bright energy had gone now, and the only trace of its passing was what Twilight’s open mind had managed to absorb. Without thinking about what she was doing, she poured all that power out, magic bursts of every possible colour spraying out into the classroom, but mostly into the egg.
…
It was many minutes later. Twilight Sparkle blinked, and struggled to get her hooves back under her. Her memory of the last hour was a mishmash of sensations, feelings, colours, and abstract thoughts. She knew what had happened, the knowledge was inside her, but she couldn’t shape it into any form she could understand or even describe.
“You are aware,” the teacher, Small Grove, was speaking, “That magic cannot create life. Stating that realisation is sufficient to pass the test, there was no need to call upon such wild magics.”
“Wild–” Twilight gasped, “Did I hurt anypony?”
“Don’t worry, child,” Princess Celestia herself was speaking now, and all Twilight could do was stare, “We reversed all of those uncontrolled spells. And I must say, the power of your magic is quite impressive for one your age.”
“But she can’t control it,” another teacher commented, “We can’t deal with that kind of display.”
Twilight turned to her mother, hoping she would offer some criticism, would be able to think of some reason that a School for Gifted Unicorns should accept her despite whatever had just happened. But Twilight Velvet just beamed, grinning broadly.
“You got your cutie mark, dear!” Twilight immediately jerked around to try looking at her own haunches. She could see the mark there, that she’d somehow missed noticing in all the confusion. A star, with smaller stars around it.
“I can’t tell what it is,” she mused, “Could be some magical effects, maybe? Does that mean I’ll learn to control it better? I don’t want that to happen again.”
“You can learn in a more controlled environment,” the disapproving teacher snapped, “Even if you’re learning, you clearly don’t have the discipline we expect from our students. This school is for the best of the best, and we can’t control that kind of wild display.”
“I can,” Princess Celestia spoke again, and the teacher looked down, “It is clear that Twilight Sparkle passed the test. And more than just stating that magic cannot hatch an egg, as many students manage, she analysed it and determined that the egg will not hatch. If called upon to complete this task in a real world situation, by anxious dragon parents for example, that leap of intuition would save them from another six months of waiting to see if anything would happen. Not to mention that cutie mark, which I find most interesting.”
“Magic?” the teacher snorted, “I just see stars. That could be anything, and you know as well as I do that a great talent can be wasted unless well channeled by inte…” she trailed off into a mumble under the Princess’s glare.
“I understand that the school does not have the capability to reverse such displays of wild magic on a regular basis. However I am willing to trust that this was a single freak occurrence. If you still do not wish to tutor this young mare, then I will declare her my personal apprentice. I am sure that she will have both the drive, knowledge, and discipline necessary to pass your entrance exams without difficulty by this time next year.”
Twilight Velvet looked like she was about to explode with pride. The teacher who had refused Twilight’s entry into the school bit her lip, struggling to control her anger. Twilight Sparkle herself was struck dumb, eyes wide and with no idea what to say. The silence was broken by a faint crack, like somepony stepping on a twig in the woods. And then another, and a faint tearing sound that might have passed unnoticed in the face of a normal conversation. Slowly, every head turned to look at the desk where the dragon egg was still sitting. Twilight had been wrong, as had everypony else before her. There must have been some spark of life, too small to even detect, or concealed within the corruption of whatever the unknown energy type had been.
The egg began to hatch.
“…and that’s how Spike became my assistant. In the end, hatching an egg that everybody had thought was dead was notable even by the standards of gifted unicorns, so they let me in. But I got personal tuition from the Princess as well, and they decided it would make sense for me to adopt the dragon because they didn’t know what else to do with him.”
“Wait,” Scootaloo seemed confused, “so the egg was dead, but it hatched anyway? That doesn’t sound like a fair test, you must have been like the only student in the school.”
“You missed the point,” Sweetie Belle answered her friend, “Magic can do all kinds of things, but it can’t create a real pony, or a real dragon. Making an egg hatch before its time is beyond the power of magic. So to pass the test, she just needed to turn around and say ‘it’s impossible’. She nearly failed because she kept on wasting time on something that can’t be done, but then she somehow used the magic surge from the Rainboom to do it anyway.”
“Oh, right! So Rainbow Dash saved the day again.”
“I’m even more awesome than I thought,” Dash grinned, showing off her usual level of modesty.
“I’m not so sure how that could happen,” Rarity tried to ignore her friend’s posing for a second, “Why would a rainbow’s magical energy be able to revive a dead egg?”
“I wasn’t really dead,” Spike offered, “It’s just different, because of my mom, I think. They couldn’t sense the life energy because it wasn’t a normal kind of life. It was,” and looking around at the Cutie Mark Crusaders, he hid his mouth behind his claws before whispering, “Gaia Energy. When a Gaia Memory wakes up to create a dopant, it draws life energy from the user’s unique talent, draining their cutie mark. So a dragon egg containing Gaia Energy needs a particular kind of magic to wake it up. The magic of a unicorn just as she gains her cutie mark. Maybe. I don’t really know unicorn magic, but the Princess said something about it once.”
“Anyway!” Sweetie Belle raised her voice slightly, “We’re not saying anything about whether it’s possible to have a talent that you were always growing towards, or not. We just find it kind of worrying that Applejack and Pinkie Pie both told us pretty detailed stories about how they got their cutie marks, and then suddenly couldn’t remember any of it.”
“That does sound kind of worrying,” Twilight muttered, trying to think of any kind of magic that might tamper with somepony’s memory like that. There were a number she could think of, but she’d have to check the books to get full details on any of them. “You don’t remember any of that story, AJ? Do you have relatives in Manehattan, like they said?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure I’d remember if I ever went to visit them. Me being off the farm, it’d be like you without a book. Could you imagine that?”
“No, I really can’t. But if these three fillies aren’t playing some kind of trick, that means you only became so focused on your farm once you’d seen the alternative. In a way, it makes me wonder just how different your life could have been without that rainbow.”
“My Sonic Rainboom, all those years ago?” Dash was posing again, “Wouldn’t it be cool if both of you only got your cutie marks then because you saw my great achievement?”
“Applejack’s return, sure, the crusaders said like it was the deciding factor in her coming home. But I was in Canterlot when I got my cutie mark, at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. There’s no way I would even have seen your rainboom over that kind of distance.”
“Yeah? You think that magic surge was just a normal rainbow?”
“What magic surge?” the two stared at each other in confusion for a long moment.
“Twilight?” Applejack asked slowly, “Do you remember what you were doing when you got your cutie mark?”
“Studying, I guess. I’d always wanted to master magic, I studied it at every spare moment, and then one day I made it. My special talent was always going to be in magic, and my cutie mark represents that.”
“No it doesn’t,” Spike interrupted, “The star on your cutie mark is the crystal core of the Tree of Harmony. It means your special talent is bringing the Elements together.” Now the baby dragon was the one surrounded by a circle of puzzled stares.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled, “Celestia told me, okay? I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but now you know almost everything, so I thought…”
“Anyhow,” Applejack took back the lead, “Are you saying you didn’t get your cutie mark the day Spike’s egg hatched, at your entrance exam for that special school?”
“I don’t remember exactly when I got it. I did so many things with magic at school, and more than one of them I’m sure was amazing enough. And how would I know when Spike was hatched? I barely even remember when he became my assistant, or who gave him to me.”
“That’s so not what you said a minute ago,” Rainbow Dash sounded genuinely worried.
“Was I like that?” Applejack asked, “Telling a story, then acting like I didn’t even know it?” The three Crusaders just nodded. “Aww, hay. We need to figure out what’s going on, and quick.”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” her little sister groaned, “Now… wait, Scootaloo’s back. Did you not find Pinkie Pie?”
“Uhh, I kinda saw Rainbow Dash posing through the window, and I didn’t want to miss out if she was gonna tell her story. Should I go out again?”
“You all want to know how I got my cutie mark?” Rainbow Dash grinned, “I’ve got a story that will blow the rest of them away!”
“Don’t worry about it, and NO!” Twilight was already answering Scootaloo when her ears caught up with what her friend was saying, “We’ve had at least three of us lose our most treasured memories. Until we know what’s going on, you should keep yours safe. And I think it’s clear now that this is a real crisis, so I’m going to call the others.” Without waiting for a second opinion, she swung the Driver around her neck. The metal and crystal pendant clicked into place, and the magicite crystals all over it started to glow a faint violet as it came close to the Joker Element on her collar.
“Pinkie, can you hear me?” she spoke aloud. It was their latest modification to the collars, and she still wasn’t sure how well it would work. But in a lot of the situations they’d found themselves in, being able to communicate would have made their job so much easier. Anything was better than nothing.
“Hello?” Fluttershy’s voice came as if from thin air, and even quieter than usual, “Twilight? I can’t see you.”
“I’m trying out the new improvements we made to the collars,” Twilight answered, “Have you seen Pinkie around?”
“She was at Sugarcube Corner earlier, why?”
“I’m here!” Pinkie’s voice was full of life, but just as quiet as Fluttershy’s, “I was looking around wondering if you were hiding somewhere. You can talk through the Driver now?”
“Yes. And you need to come to the Library. I think there might be a dopant in town, or some kind of dark magic at any rate.”
“Me too?”
“Yes. We should all be here.” Then Twilight released the little spark of magical energy that had been keeping the link open, and took off the Driver again. The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked more than a little confused by the exchange.
“Oh, you couldn’t hear that?” Twilight suggested, “We can talk to each other through the collars now. I finished it off using Lucky Break’s notes, and it seems to work fine. Anyway, they’re on their way. Let’s see if we can identify this problem, and then solve it.”
“That’s a lot of rainbows,” Fluttershy mumbled, as Scootaloo finished recounting the wonders that could be laid at Rainbow Dash’s door. As she went over Applejack’s story, then Twilight’s, and finally what Pinkie had told them, the ponies at the centre of each tale just stared at the table in front of them in confusion, trying to recall any part of the stories they were hearing.
“Yeah,” Scootaloo glanced up at her role model, who was beaming with pride after all the stories, “And I bet it was all during that same race, too. Wouldn’t it be cool if all six of the Champions got your cutie marks from the same Sonic Rainboom? Like some destiny always wanted you to get together.”
“It would be interesting,” Rarity admitted, “But I don’t think it’s true. I mean, there was a rainbow when I got my cutie mark, that somehow resonated with my magic and caused a dozen gems to burst out of a half-buried geode. But then I saw Rainbow Dash’s rainboom later, a circle of light around Cloudsdale, and I asked one of my pegasus customers what it was, so I know that wasn’t the same event.”
“Mmm,” Fluttershy nodded, “And I don’t think I ever watched a rainbow lightshow with my furry friends, either. I used to be one of Rainbow Dash’s closest friends, but I wasn’t there to see the Rainboom. Most of the jobs in Cloudsdale are based on good flying, so my choices were pretty much moving to the ground, or the rainbow factory.” That admission was followed by a period of silence, and not just because everypony else had been keeping quiet to better hear what Fluttershy had to add. Twilight looked across at the three Crusaders and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m guessing from the horrified stare that’s not what she told you before?” They just shook their heads, and then Sweetie Belle stepped up to recount Fluttershy’s story as well as she could remember. That done, nopony seemed entirely sure what they should do next.
“Do we know enough to try looking it up in the library?” Pinkie hazarded. Twilight looked critically at the three Cutie Mark Crusaders for a moment before replying. All three still had visible scars where their cutie marks should be, from the time they’d tried to give themselves marks using a Gaia Memory. But they had done the right thing in the end, and that was surely proof enough that they were trustworthy. She was letting some of Spike and Celestia’s paranoia rub off on her.
“We can give it a try. And I think that we can let these girls see our secret weapon, while they brought the problem to our attention, as long as they can keep a secret.”
“JOKER!”
Pinkie Pie walked to a space in the centre of the library. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but she felt more comfortable doing it that way. After sleeping in bandages for quite some time as a filly, she had developed a habit of gesturing wildly as well as talking in her sleep, so tried to avoid sleeping when standing too close to anypony else. She slid her Element of Laughter into one arm of the Driver as soon as it appeared on her breast, and then pressed down both her own Element and Twilight’s as her eyes slid closed.
“LAUGHTER!”
In Pinkie’s dream, the Golden Oak Library was replaced by an even more impressive collection of books. She’d started thinking of this as the library of her memories when she first compiled it, but now it seemed to have been augmented by all kinds of information that the other Champions of Harmony had provided through the bond that linked their Elements, as well as a considerable amount of information about the Gaia Memories that only Princess Luna could have left there. She had been unable to think of a better name for it, but lately the phrase Gaia Library had popped up in her consciousness. The books hung in a similar formation to the shelves that surrounded her in the real world, but without any actual shelves to support the tomes Pinkie could see past them to thousands upon thousands of books hovering in empty space.
“Keyword: forgetting!” Twilight’s voice came from the air as she spoke in the real world, their minds still linked by the power of the Driver. Pinkie visualised the index to the vast library, and turned it to the page where that keyword was listed. All around her, books flew from one imaginary shelf to another, shuffling like a deck of cards or like leaves in a storm, but for all the chaos no two ever collided. Now Pinkie was at the centre of a circle of books, closer than any of the shelves had previously been, while all the books that didn’t match her query receded into the distance. There were a lot of books that mentioned that word, though. The circular shelves would have reached higher than the ceiling of the Golden Oak, and they were still stacked two rings deep.
“Twenty-six thousand, one hundred and forty matches,” she announced. Pinkie found that something of the library’s seriousness rubbed off on her, and it seemed natural to report the numbers to her friends shorn of jokes or other commentary. Her voice still sounded normal to her, though, without the emotionless monotone that her sleep-talking conveyed to the others.
“Keyword: Sonic Rainboom,” it was Rainbow Dash’s voice this time, “It’s in all the memories that were lost, it seems like a good place to start.”
The cylinders of books were massively depleted by that one. For a moment, Pinkie thought that they would be reduced to a single volume at a stroke. But then the books drifted to a halt, right in front of her eyes.
“Four matches,” she declared, happy that this search at least had been easy.
“Can you check the titles?” Twilight’s disembodied voice asked. Sometimes Pinkie could look over all the books that her lookup had provided, but sometimes – and for reasons that she had never quite understood – she couldn’t make any sense out of the words on the cover until they had narrowed it down to exactly one book. Maybe it was for reasons of privacy, something Luna had installed to prevent her looking up the current location or secrets of ponies she’d never met now that the library seemed to contain all possible information. This time, however, she could read the names on the covers easily.
“First name: Dusk Palette,” Pinkie read out, “No obvious Gaia Memory title.” She felt that worth mentioning, as sometimes when a pony absorbed a Gaia Memory into their body to become a dopant, the name of the Memory would be added to their book in the Gaia Library. Those who completely lost the good parts of their personality could even have their own name relegated to the inside pages.
“Don’t bother about that,” Rainbow Dash responded, “Dusk Palette wrote a book about different kinds of pegasus magic. He said that the Sonic Rainboom was so rare that other ponies were likely to forget it was even possible if he didn’t make the effort to write it down.
“Second name: Azure Dreamer. There’s no–”
“No. Azure Dreamer wrote a book called ‘Dusk Palette's Forgotten Treatise, the Legend of the Sonic Rainboom’. Was a hundred years old, I couldn’t even find a copy in the Cloudsdale library. She’s long dead.”
“Third name. Gaia Memories this time,” and then Pinkie’s voice took on an unmistakable tone of surprise, at least in her own mind: “Five different Memories, all of them crossed out. So a former Memory User. Memories Metal, Trigger, Infinite, Joker, and Double.”
“The former Elements of Harmony,” Spike answered back in the real library, “The Princess taught me the list, and which pairs work together best, just in case your Elements kept the same names.” Pinkie didn’t hear that, but she heard Twilight’s response.
“That must be Princess Celestia. Joker was her Element, and I think she mentioned Metal as well. The Double Driver and its Elements are technically Gaia Memories, purified by the Tree. She put a lot of work into analysing the different magic of unicorns and pegasi, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she’s written an academic paper about the Sonic Rainboom. So what’s next?”
“Fourth name: Igneous Rock –”
“Wait,” Rarity interrupted, “We shouldn’t be using ‘Rainboom’ as a keyword. I saw Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom, I said before. But it had nothing to do with my cutie mark. And from what Apple Bloom said, AJ saw two different strange rainbows in the sky, one taking her away from Ponyville and the other bringing her home. If we assume one of them was a Sonic Rainboom, which seems entirely likely, then the other must be a different kind of strange magical phenomenon.”
“Well, I guess that–”
“Rainbow Dash, you are famous in the pegasus world for having achieved a Rainboom, even if you could only do it once until we got the Elements. Have you heard of any other pegasus getting that kind of fame?”
“No…”
“Then the spectacle that inspired you to start looking probably wasn’t a Rainboom. And that means we could well be looking in the wrong place, if the thing that linked all our memories wasn’t the Sonic Rainboom. Who knows, maybe it was even a different kind of Rainboom.”
“It must have been mine,” Rainbow Dash sounded noticeably downhearted, “One thing, bringing us all together.”
“Anyway, we should look for other rainbows too.”
“I agree,” Twilight nodded, “We’ve got a few matches, but they don’t seem to be relevant. We should try looking at all rainbows.” Then she looked back at Pinkie, who was just patiently waiting for more instructions. Somehow, in the dream she always seemed reluctant to act without a clear instruction.
“Replace keyword: Sonic Rainboom with keyword: Rainbow.”
“Two hundred and seven matches.”
“Keyword: Dopant. It must be one, or why would it be picking on us?”
The books spiralled around Pinkie in her imaginary space. It seemed to take a minute or more for them to stabilise. Once again, Pinkie wondered if the search would be able to give her a single book right away. But then the swirl of movement stopped, and…
“No matches found.”
“No way,” Rainbow Dash gasped, “Does that mean it wasn’t my Sonic Rainboom, or whatever kind of thing the other Rainboom was?”
“Or it’s not a dopant.”
“So what other keywords can we use?” Twilight looked around at all the others, but there were no suggestions.
“We don’t know enough to attempt a lookup,” Rarity stated, “Wake up, Pinkie. But there must be some way we can work out what’s happened to our memories.”
“How about… why don’t I tell you all my story,” Rainbow Dash seemed almost hesitant now. Certainly less confident than she had as a child, when she’d said she was going to do what everypony believed impossible. “And you can do whatever you can think of. If somepony’s using magic on me, you should be able to sense it. Right?”
“I guess… maybe?” Twilight said, “We’re understanding the Gaia Memories better with every one we encounter, and certainly I know spells that will respond to the presence of either unicorn or pegasus magical flux within a certain area. I think it’ll be best if we watch as GenerousJoker, for the greatest magical power.”
“Sounds like the best plan we’ve got,” Rarity nodded, but she still wasn’t too confident. They passed the idea around the table a few more times, but nopony had anything constructive to add.
As Rainbow Dash rehearsed the story in her mind, Spike found a comfortable perch atop one of the bookshelves, from where he could look down on the whole room. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were reluctant to leave for the action. Especially Scootaloo, who had been wanting to hear Dash’s story all day. Twilight agreed to let them stay, as they’d so far done a better job than anypony else of spotting when something went wrong. Scootaloo’s parents would obviously have no objections with the filly learning more about her hero’s past, while Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both had to plead with their sisters. Eventually, they were all packed into the largest of the basement rooms, which seemed to be practically a library in itself. As a precaution, Twilight had hammered out a letter to Princess Celestia on the typewriter, detailing what they already knew in case they somehow came to forget.
“I’m ready,” Rainbow Dash had been rehearsing the story in her head, “Shall I start?”
“GENEROSITYᏔJOKER!”
“Go ahead,” the two unicorns spoke as one, “We want to hear this too.”
Rainbow Dash had a good childhood. She had no doubt that she was the fastest filly in Cloudsdale, and some day she would be the fastest, most agile, coolest pegasus in all of Equestria. Everypony could see how awesome she was, and was dazzled by her brilliance. Except, of course, for the class clowns Silver Lining, Hoops, and the rest of their crowd.
She preferred hanging out with Fluttershy a lot of the time, though. It was nice to be able to just chat, without everypony constantly trying to prove they were the best. With most of her other friends, Dash could prove she was the fastest, and then she’d have to prove herself again five minutes later. So it was Fluttershy she came to when she needed someone to fly against to test out a new theory. She thought she’d worked out how to duplicate the Sonic Rainboom, the flash of multicoloured light that had been visible over distant mountains a week or two before. Sure, Silver Lining could give her a closer race, but it was harder to focus on her flight technique when she had to keep watching out for somepony cheating.
But, as things had worked out, she ended up racing against the whole crowd, practically half their class from school. She told herself it was better that way, that the bully Thunder Shock would be picking on Fluttershy again if somepony didn’t put him in his place. But she couldn’t help feeling a little bit nervous.
Then the wind was racing through her wings, and there was nothing wrong in the world. She was winning, of course, as they came close to the end of the first lap. There were only two others even close, and they were doing their best to trip her or create turbulence, but she wouldn’t let them stop her. Rainbow Dash was the champion, always had been, always would be.
Then she saw something that put her off her stroke, almost made her freeze in mid air. Right back towards the start line, almost within reach, Fluttershy was tumbling dock over forelock. She didn’t seem able to gain enough stability to catch the air with her wings, and that meant she was in real trouble. Dash would never forgive herself if a friend got hurt as a result of a competition she’d dragged her into.
Rainbow Dash abandoned the race in an instant. The Sonic Rainboom could wait. She dived straight towards Fluttershy, putting every ounce of power into her wings. She thought she might just be fast enough to catch her friend and carry her to safety. But then Rainbow Dash felt a hoof connect solidly with the back of her skull. She didn’t see who it was, but one of the cheats had seen her moving down and decided to run across her back to take a momentary break from flapping.
Rainbow Dash was in a spin, just like her friend. But she wasn’t willing to give up when Fluttershy needed her. She stretched her wings until the wind snapped at them, and caught her breath. But as soon as she was pointing towards Fluttershy again she stopped flailing and put every possible bit of energy into catching up. She dived down and instead of flapping her wings to control her descent, she flew harder than she had ever flown before. At the peak speed, she felt as if the air was a solid thing. Even the wind couldn’t move aside fast enough, and pushing harder was like banging her head against a solid wall. But still, she pushed.
And then the wind broke. She smashed through the barrier, whatever it had been, and felt the wind move with her, guiding and protecting her. A bubble of wind had accepted her, forming around her straining wings to make this speed easy to maintain for a moment, and battering aside any obstructions that might resist her. The bubble glowed in all the colours of the rainbow, charged up with pegasus magic or some mysterious quality of the sheer speed she was travelling at. And then the bubble cracked like an egg hitting a wall, and disgorged Rainbow Dash with all the speed she could ever want.
She knew that she had completed the Sonic Rainboom, the move that everypony said was impossible. She had done it, but in her moment of triumph she was more pleased to see Fluttershy standing safely on the grass below. She didn’t have any explanation for how it had happened, or any time to think of one before she turned into a high-speed impact crater on the side of one of those hills. But she could see her friend was safe, and that was all that mattered. She’d taken several seconds out of the race, the others must be half a lap ahead now, but with this incredible speed it was still worth trying.
…
A few hours later, Rainbow Dash raised her head from her pillow. Her whole body ached as if she’d done a year’s cloud herding in one day. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened. The memories crowded in her head, bits and pieces. Her friends cheering. Returning to the race from her detour, still moving faster than she could believe. Looking back to see little flickers of rainbow light dancing off the edge of her flight feathers. Glancing back to see Silver Lining gaping in surprise as Dash came from behind to take the race. Swaying unsteadily as her hooves touched the cloud again, and the rush of adrenaline wore off. Older pegasi, teachers marching over the race track, demanding to know what the flash had been. Her victory parade stumbling as her treacherous eyelids refused to stay open.
On closer inspection, the softness under her head wasn’t a pillow. It was the fluffy whiteness of outdoor cloud, where some helpful colt had just carried her to the side of the path. The parade and party had moved on, though she could still hear the sounds of celebration from the nearest part of town. She’d have to remember in future that although the Sonic Rainboom let her move faster than she’d ever thought possible, it took a toll on her body. She was still tired, but felt she could move now. Looking down, she was completely unsurprised to see that her cutie mark had appeared; it wasn’t every day you did the impossible.
Rainbow Dash sauntered happily back toward Cloudsdale, ready for everypony to tell her how awesome she was. It was a day that had been too long coming.
“They said ponies had seen the flash in Ponyville, or even farther,” Rainbow Dash shrugged, “But I never expected it to go as far as Manehattan, or even Canterlot.”
“Wow, that’s so awesome!” Scootaloo was just as impressed as she’d expected to be, “That’s the best story we heard yet.”
“Interesting to hear that you managed the Rainboom by the power of loyalty,” GenerousJoker spoke in Twilight’s voice, “Maybe that’s why the Element of Loyalty lets you do it whenever you use a Maximum Drive attack.”
“And without getting so tired, either,” Rainbow Dash beamed. The praise she was getting now took her right back to the heady fame she’d had among her childhood friends after the first Rainboom. “So, did any magic happen?”
“We didn’t sense anything,” Twilight gave the report, though both unicorns had been giving the room their full attention, “Do you still remember how you got your cutie mark?”
“Of course! I tried for ages, but it was chasing after Fluttershy in that race that gave me an extra kick.”
With nothing better to do, they continued talking about their various exploits. After a while, Rarity disengaged the Driver and returned to her own body. Every few minutes, Twilight or Sweetie Belle would ask Rainbow Dash about some detail of that race, but as they started to run out of different things to ask, it was quite clear that Dash’s memories were intact.
“I was hoping we’d get a new keyword to put into the look-up,” Twilight sighed, “but instead, we’ve pretty much confirmed that it’s not the rainbows. Not cutie marks, either.”
“Maybe it’s just memories, and everypony lost their cutie mark memories because those were the stories they were telling when the dopant was around,” Spike suggested.
“But four in one day seems an awful coincidence,” Twilight mused.
“No it’s not,” Sweetie Belle almost sounded disappointed in the librarian, “Five ponies told us the stories of their cutie marks today because we went around… of course!”
“Huh?”
“Do you remember, an old mare suggested we should ask other ponies for their stories? She was there at Sugarcube Corner, I think, and in the square outside the Library when we came in. If she’s the one stealing memories or something, then she could have asked just so we’d get ponies to tell their stories for us.”
“She thought if she got the Champions of Harmony all in one day, then none of them would notice anything suspicious?” Rainbow Dash finally pulled herself out of memory lane, “But what could she want with memories?”
“I don’t know,” Apple Bloom was less certain, “She didn’t seem evil to me.”
“So Dash escaped having her memories taken because the dopant’s gone home for an early night? That sounds kind of lame to me.”
“Maybe it’s not just that,” Sweetie Belle found she was lecturing the adults again, almost like she was the leader today, “Think about the stories at the start. Pinkie Pie was ill in bed, lonely and feeling down. Fluttershy had been bullied because she wasn’t good at flying, and that was a big deal until she found out another talent. Applejack felt like she was missing something, because she didn’t know her talent. Even Twilight, you’re a magical genius, but from the way you said it I’m sure you were up for weeks before the exam, worrying that you weren’t good enough.”
“I don’t think so,” Twilight bit her lip for a moment, eyes almost closed as she struggled to bring back those memories, “I think I was a bit overconfident as a filly. I was a genius, and I could do everything I tried. It wasn’t until Begins Night that I really understood there are things I don’t know.”
“That’s the kind of thing Rainbow Dash would say,” Sweetie pressed on, “And you talked like you were sure you’d be able to do it, but your tone said different. All of you. You weren’t sure you could do it, whatever it was for each of you, and you were more driven by worry about what would happen if you couldn’t. Then either you got over the hurdle, or you found something else you excel in. Twilight, you were so proud and sure of yourself as a filly because after teachers said you weren’t smart enough, you actually did the impossible, and the Princess called you her apprentice. You had a good reason to be proud.”
“So what do you think? It’s about… failure?”
“No. It’s about overcoming sadness. For most of you, finding your cutie mark was a story that could so easily have been a bad memory. It’s the moment despair was shattered by a new hope. Maybe you all remember being these headstrong kids who were so proud and always knew they were going to be great. But that’s not how it happened, you were all as worried about it as we are. Well, apart from Rainbow Dash, of course. But that’s the deal; you’ve lost those memories, you’ve lost all of your doubts. And I have to worry that’s somehow affecting your judgement now. You don’t seem to be thinking things through quite as much as you usually do, you’re too fixated on your ideas without analysing them. Maybe just a tiny change, but I think I can see it.”
Sweetie Belle stopped, panting for breath after spitting out a whole monologue without pause. Nopony else said anything, but there were a few nods.
“Right!” Pinkie was the first to speak up, “we’ve got a guess she’s an older mare, probably, and we think she’s erasing memories that you might think of as sad, or worries. Either of those might give us a better lookup.”
“Let’s do this,” Twilight readied the Driver as Pinkie walked to her accustomed dreaming spot. But before they could begin, there was a knock at the door.
On a bench in the square outside, Evening Child was listening. Not actually hearing the words, of course, she was some distance from the conversation and the wood and earth walls of the Library were well soundproofed. But she had a pretty good idea what they were talking about, and as they speculated about the current situation a similar debate was playing out inside her head.
She tapped the Gaia Memory against the ground as she thought. It might have prompted the current debate, but she didn’t think it was really an important problem. The Memory just gave her the ability to do what she wanted, like relive moments of a long-ago youth, and act without the shadow of certain bad memories hanging over her. It couldn’t be held accountable for her decisions on whether or not those changes were desirable. You couldn’t blame a saw for the use to which it was put, that was one maxim that Evening Child had always tried to live her life by. From the first moments of her life, when her name had only connotations of a foal born at sunset, through her youth, when detractors had called her a mare of the evening, right to the present when she wondered if casual acquaintances interpreted it as referring to the evening of her life, scant figurative minutes from dusk.
It was a slim thing, a lime green sliver of glass in a cage of gold wires. It looked fragile, like it would break at any moment. The salespony had assured her it was a part of the planet itself, and virtually indestructible. But over a long life, Evening Child had learned that things that sounded too good to be true usually were. It might not be easy to break, but this little piece of frozen magic had its own defects. Like the intangible poison it tried to inject into her heart every time she used it. Well, she knew more than most ponies seemed to realise, and she couldn’t be having with that kind of thing at all.
Maybe she shouldn’t have used it. She’d quite enjoyed sitting in a café, or in the square, and watching those ponies’ memories as they told them to others. They’d all had a few sad moments, and she had no problem cutting out the dead weight from somepony’s emotional baggage. It would just make their life more joyful overall, and what more could anypony ask for? Of course, when she saw Rainbow Dash’s triumphant second lap, she couldn’t take away something so positive. She wasn’t a monster after all, just an old seamstress trying to entertain others and bring a little happiness despite her age.
But when the memory ended, she could feel the emotional tides of their conversation for a few minutes after. And they were talking about monsters. She’d taken away some terrible worries, fears, and regrets. But all they could do was worry that something was missing. She’d never heard something like that before, but maybe that was just because she’d never helped ponies who were smart enough to notice before. Or maybe it was because there was a real monster interfering with her actions. But she was going to take responsibility in any case, because whatever the circumstances, she wouldn’t allow her power to hurt an innocent. She slipped the memory into the old-fashioned saddlebag that conveniently covered her rump, and went to knock on the library door.
“I’m sorry I’ve caused you such problems,” Evening Child rehearsed what she was going to say while she waited for an answer, “I thought that those around me might benefit from having fewer sad memories, but I see I have been mistaken. I will be happy to restore what I have obscured, but I must warn you that if you dwell on those moments in future…”
“If they dwell on them?” A voice interrupted her thoughts, powerful and booming but not actually shouting, “I don’t remember that Memory having any lasting effects if somepony’s past is encrypted and then restored.”
“That’s why you’re just the delivery colt,” she turned around and turned up her nose at him, quite a difficult feat given the difference in sizes, “You don’t seem to know half the properties of your own produce.”
“I noticed that you took the time to understand the Gaia Memory, most don’t. And the scar’s smaller, too. I saw you in the street without those bags, and I wouldn’t have realised your cutie mark was damaged if I hadn’t been looking for it. I think there’s a scientist who’d love to talk about how you managed that.”
“Well, I’m always happy to talk to a pony of intellectual distinction,” Evening Child beamed, “But first I need to tell these four about a problem I may inadvertently have caused them, and restore to them all the memories my power has touched. I don’t want to take away pain if doing so means harm in the long run. But now I fear I may have left them between a rock and a hard place. Hah.”
“You found a way to pass on the venom,” he could only see one explanation, even from the little he knew. “Our people are trying to purify the Gaia Memories. Our G4 Memories are better than the old G3.5 that other groups are selling, but they kind of make your heart go dark still. That’s why I only sell to ponies I hope I can trust. But… how?”
“I can manipulate memories as I see fit,” she spoke proudly, “So I can cut those negative emotions away from the long-ago events that could have inspired them. The dark emotions have nothing to cling to in my heart, and that means that I can push the poison from your device into the memories of others I have watched.”
“And then you make them forget. Not to hurt them. So the poison doesn’t dig deeper into them every time they remember that memory in future.”
“Of course. But only the bad memories. I’m no monster, not like her. Memories it won’t hurt them to lose, or so I thought. So now I need to do my duty.”
“I can’t let you do that,” the young pony’s voice had an edge of iron now, “They can’t see the G4 Memories yet.”
“I am going to do the right thing,” she answered firmly, “whether you like –” but the colt already had two Gaia Memories in his hoof, which certainly hadn’t been among the selection he had offered to sell Evening Child three months before. One of them didn’t even look real, like it was a child’s toy replica of the intricately-cut crystals. There was no time to think about that now.
“NASCAR!” the voice was crude and mechanical, punctuated with a veritable storm of engine noise and the smell of oily smoke. But Evening Child was no fool, and knew there was only one possible response to that.
“YESTERDAY!”
There was a silent conversation between the Champions of Harmony, a few glances that spoke volumes. About the urgency of recovering their memories immediately, or the common courtesy of answering a knock at the door. The need to hurry, and the chance that somepony might need their help, maybe even with the same problem. It only took a few seconds after the knock, but before Twilight lifted the latch she was distracted again by the sound of two Gaia Memories engaging outside.
One second of hesitation was enough. She wasn’t standing in its path when door and frame burst out of the wall and into the middle of the library floor. There was a dopant lying on top of the wreckage, picking itself up slowly. It was larger than a horse, but not as bulky as some of the creatures they’d seen before. It could almost pass for a big horse, body hidden behind layer upon layer of gauzy silks in white and green, if not for the smoke that billowed between the layers without ever escaping, or the green lightning sparks crawling over its body.
“So sorry,” it muttered in a voice whose echo seemed distorted, subtly wrong in a way nopony could put their hoof on, “I thought everypony would be happier without painful memories. Maybe I didn’t avoid the poison as well as I’d hoped. You were never prey, not really,I wanted to help. I can restore –”
“ELECTRIC: MAXIMUM DRIVE!”
“KINDNESSᏔLOYALTY!” Sword met armour in the centre of the room, and sparks leapt out in all directions to start small fires among the books and knock all kinds of ornaments from their places.
(“I can’t believe we managed to transform fast enough!” Rainbow Dash gasped within their shared mind, “That was quick even for me!”)
(“Me either! But we have to protect innocents… can a dopant be innocent?”)
(“I was more worried about you being able to remember my race. That thing said it could restore memories, what happens to you all if it’s defeated before that happens?”)
“Get out of my way,” the self-described Champion of Justice bellowed, “That dopant is dangerous, probably more than any you’ve fought before.”
“She said she’d give our memories back,” Doubledash spoke in a double voice, “At least give her the chance to surrender.”
“Quick, in the basement,” Twilight whispered, helping the Yesterday Dopant to her hooves, “You don’t look crazy enough to deserve this kind of violence.”
“Thankyou,” her voice still had the strange harmonics, as if the echo was coming before the words, but she also sounded old and tired. As they reached the library’s back door, she touched one hoof against Twilight’s cutie mark, and the lost memories came back in a flood. The pride of knowing she was good, the fear that she might not be good enough, the panic as every method she tried left no result, and the magic, the confusion, the elation that came with the wave of rainbow energy.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with!” the red armoured figure – The Nascar Dopant? – growled, “Let me down there now. That Memory’s dangerous, we need to take it back for study.”
“So why’d you go swinging that sword around?” Applejack quickly moved to be between the dopant and the door, “You stupid lump, she said she was going to give it up. And if you didn’t go threatening her, maybe we coulda found out who she got the Memory from, as well. Why do stallions always got to think with their muscles?”
“Not all dopants are fighters,” he responded. Everything in his body language screamed that he wanted to charge to that door right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to strike the pony in his way. That was the same kind of hesitation that had convinced them before he wasn’t just another monster to be dealt with. “The Yesterday Dopant can use your memories against you; your real history, not Gaia Memories. She doesn’t need to hit you, or even touch you. Talking can be enough to encrypt whole chunks of your past, or confuse you about who she is. I need to get that Memory before you spend time talking to her.”
“Then you should have asked,” Twilight was as blunt as ever. They were circling now, looking for an advantage, any way Nascar could get past Applejack and Twilight without giving Doubledash an easy attack. “She knocked on the door, for –” she cut off, seeming to realise how large a mistake she’d made. Circling round the centre of the room, Applejack had edged protectively towards where Fluttershy was frozen, asleep on her hooves. That left a space between her and Twilight that the dopant could charge straight through, kicking open the door that led to the basement stairs.
The same door led to two staircases, each with its own few basement rooms, because of the way the space below ground was divided up by the great tree’s roots. It also led to the Library’s back door, which was standing wide open.
“You let her get away!” the dopant kicked the wall angrily, making quite a large dent. But he was always careful, and ducked his head down both sets of stairs long enough to see that it was dark down there, and neither passage would be safe to follow without a light. She hadn’t gone down there to be imprisoned. Without another word, he charged off in pursuit of the dopant.
“Well, I don’t know. I never thought that young fellow was such a nasty piece of work.” Evening Child stepped carefully out from behind the back door. It had been a gamble, waiting, but she couldn’t afford letting that stallion catch her. “And I am most sorry for all the trouble I may have put you to.”
“It was you!” Sweetie Belle stood and pointed, before meeting her sister’s glare and remembering her manners, “Sorry, I thought it was you, we worked it out.”
“Then you are a very perceptive young lady. Nopony else has even found something missing. And I should apologise for using fillies to do my dirty work, as well. If you tell the story of an important memory, you see, I can experience those events with you. It is the closest I have come to an exciting youth, and those tales are my entertainment in my waning years.”
“You steal other ponies’ memories?” Sweetie Belle wanted to be angry, but found the most she could feel now was a kind of pitying disapproval, with the culprit standing there and staring down at her own fetlocks.
“No. I was a passenger, and they never knew. But the Gaia Memories drive you insane, poison your heart so that only the darkest emotions remain. That salescolt didn’t tell me about that, and the only way I found to prevent that was to divert the poison to others. To seal the harm inside a long-ago memory, that could itself be hidden away lest the poison spreads to affect those ponies. I fooled myself, thinking that I was doing a service by freeing them of their negative emotions, and using them to keep that poison from me could be a payment. I know I was wrong, I know how much I hurt you. So if you wish, I will restore those memories, starting with yours. And then I will return here to face any punishment you think fitting.”
And that was what happened. It turned out that to release the memories that had been encrypted, the Yesterday Memory User only needed to touch the victim’s cutie mark. In a lot of ways, this particular Gaia Memory was easier to control than many of the ones they had seen before. So they took a leap of faith, and trusted Evening Child to return the Gaia Memory to them so that it could be destroyed once everypony’s past was restored.
It didn’t take her long to restore a memory. Once they all knew how they’d got their cutie marks, and shared the stories, they could be sure of that. And they had to agree that Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom had touched all of their lives; though whether that was coincidence or some kind of destiny would take a lifetime of debate.
It wasn’t until Evening Child had gone on her way that they realised they didn’t know just how many memories she had interfered with; or how much depth she might think it necessary to go into when warning the ponies she touched that those memories now contained an emotional poison that could blacken their hearts if remembered too often; or what she would do with ponies who seemed either too irresponsible to refrain from dwelling on those memories, or who didn’t believe her story.
They waited. And waited. Twilight Sparkle wrote up a report of the incident on her typewriter, which the Cutie Mark Crusaders watched as if it was the most riveting thing in Equestria. They’d never seen such a complex mechanism with no reliance on magic before. Twilight wrote two versions of the report, stating both that Evening Child had returned and surrendered the memory, and that she had fled town. Spike could send whichever turned out to be true when the evening came, saving time later. Scootaloo suggested writing a third, to indicate that the Memory User had lost control and they’d had to fight her, but all of the Champions of Harmony agreed they would not write that one unless it actually needed to be sent.
Eventually, Spike sent a letter to Princess Celestia saying that the Yesterday Dopant was no longer an immediate problem, but that the location of the Memory was unknown.
They went looking. The Champion of Justice was on the same quest, and they met outside Evening Child’s home. He had no official authority, but had seen fit to break in anyway. He said that the rot on the food in her larder indicated that she hadn’t been back since the morning that Fluttershy and Pinkie had first lost touch with their memories. Of the Yesterday Memory there was no sign.
They didn’t even know if they could trust the big red machine now. Evening Child had called him a salescolt. He couldn’t be their ally against the Gaia Memories if he was involved in selling the things. That made him little better than a monster, coming to their town and getting their trust in order to make more bits. The mystery, not knowing, was worse than any terror a monster could have caused them.
The case was closed; no more ponies lost important parts of their memory, so the Yesterday Dopant must be gone. But nopony could say where, or how.
The Champions of Harmony weren’t in Ponyville when the body of Evening Child was discovered. They had other pressing business to attend to. But the Champion of Justice came to look, and to give his opinion on what had happened. He muttered some meaningless platitude, saying that she could have been crossing farmland in the dark for whatever reason, and fallen into a brook whose high speed meant that the coming of spring hadn’t caught up with it yet. The official investigation by the town’s police accepted this, though anypony with half a brain could see that it didn’t answer all the questions.
They were so willing to accept that a slip of a hoof could turn a healthy if elderly mare into a pony-shaped block of ice, frozen mid-step. The Champion couldn’t accept that. He knew more than anypony that Gaia Memory dealers were divided by necessity into the bad and the terrible, and he was willing to do what the other Champions would call immoral in order to ensure that the lesser of two evils prevailed.
And he had seen a pony hurt like this before. While he fought for the bad against the worse, this was unmistakably the handiwork of the worst. Now, the Nascar User wasn’t just doing the right thing. This was different.
This was personal.