//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Infected With Your Magic // by Superbowl //------------------------------// Miss Shimmer, The situation has been resolved. This book is safe. You can return now. If you do not trust me, call Twilight Sparkle or any of your other friends. All of them are here. Abacus Cinch. Rainbow Dash pointed an accusatory finger at Cinch. “Hey, why are you writing in her book?” “Because, miss Rainbow, this book contains private correspondence.” The woman closed the book and looked at the girl who stared back uncomprehendingly. “I don’t believe either miss Shimmer or miss Sparkle—the equestrian one, that is—have given any of you express permission to read it. I, however, have already violated their privacy earlier.” “I’m pretty sure she’d rather we wrote in her book than you.” Rainbow Dash put her arms on her hips. “Besides, we don’t need to read from it to do that.” Cinch rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She approached the girl and handed the book over to her. “I suppose if any of you writes something, it will remove any doubts miss Shimmer might have about the truthfulness of my message.” “Exactly,” Rainbow Dash said as she opened the book and flipped to the last entry. “Um...” She looked at the rest of the girls, who talked to the sirens, and Shining Armor, who stood nearby, glancing between all of them and Cinch. “Any of you guys have a pen or something?” “Sure!” exclaimed the pink one. What was her name again? “I have a bunch. What color do you want?” “Uh, any color, Pinkie.” “Righty-o!” said Pinkie before reaching into her hair and taking out a pen. It was orange. There were orange pens? Cinch glared at the common sense-defying pink creature. Couldn't she be like any normal teenager and rebel against her parents or teachers, rather than the laws of physics? Eventually she decided that her business here was concluded. The three freshly-made pendants were nothing but red dust on the wind, the book was back in the hands of Shimmer’s friends and Cinch’s skin was its normal color. She walked out of the abandoned lot. Apparently, Shining Armor still had business with her. “Hey, wait!” he shouted and ran after her. Cinch stopped and turned to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” Armor said as he ran up to her. “Crystal Prep, obviously,” Cinch replied. “Since I am no longer preoccupied with the book, I shall relieve Cadance of overseeing the Crystal Talent Fair.” “Wait a second, alright? I’m coming with you.” Cinch raised an eyebrow. “Whatever for?” “I want to make sure Cadance knows of what you tried to do here.” Armor’s eyes were serious as ever. ”You need to tell her, and she needs to decide if she wants to keep working for you.” Cinch sighed and closed her eyes. “Fair enough.” Shining Armor gave her a look then ran back to the girls, probably to tell Twilight where he was going. After he got their attention, the conversation seemed to pause as the girls looked at one another. They laughed and headed for the exit where Cinch was waiting. Armor went ahead of them. “Seems like they’re all coming with,” he said. ”They forgot they all have somewhere to be.” “I was rather hoping not to share the bus with all of them,” Cinch admitted glumly. “But they do have either classes or the fair to return to, so it can’t be helped.” The group exited the yard and made for the nearest bus stop. Cinch and Armor stayed in front. “So what made you change your mind, anyway?” Armor inquired, glancing at Cinch who kept staring forward. “A number of things, I suppose,” she replied after a few seconds of silence. “My assumptions about the nature and effects of magic had been wrong.” “And just what were your assumptions?” “I had reasons to believe that there was magic coming from the other side of the portal at CHS. Continuously.” Cinch glanced at Armor. His face did not betray surprise—he must’ve been up to date on the whole magic business. “And, more importantly, that said magic was affecting the minds of people there... in a destructive way.” “Huh.” Armor rubbed his chin. “And you wanted to stop that from happening?” “Precisely.” “Well, maybe Cadance will understand where you were coming from, at least.” “And you didn’t even think to ask anyone?!” Cadenza shouted. “All of this nonsense could’ve been avoided if you talked to anyone with some experience with magic! Sunset, Princess Twilight, heck,”—Armor looked at her with wide eyes—”even any of their friends!” “If my suspicions had been correct,” Cinch said, annoyed, “do you think any of them would’ve told me the truth?” Cadenza crossed her arms. “Hmph.” The Crystal Talent Fair was wrapping up. According to Cadenza, it had been a moderate success. Some of the displayed projects had caught the attention of the talent seekers. To Cinch’s mild surprise, not all of them belonged to Crystal Prep students. Shining Armor had helped Twilight disassemble and pack her abandoned project before they left. Twilight seemed upset that she and Shimmer had been forced to leave the fair. Cinch considered feeling guilty, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Those two would have other opportunities, even in CHS. As Cadenza and Cinch stood to the side, they were approached by Adagio. “So, Abacus,” the siren asked, “what exactly happens to us now?” Cadenza was brought out of her indignant pout by the strangeness of seeing someone on the first name basis with the principal. “Nothing,” Cinch said. “I don’t believe I require any of your services anymore.” “You aren’t going to expel us?” Cinch raised her eyebrow and looked at the siren. “Why would I do that?” Adagio shrugged. “Just making sure. Sonata was nervous.” “Okay,” Cadenza finally spoke up, “Principal Cinch, just so you know, I’m not quitting, but I’ll need some time to process all of this.” “You may leave,” Cinch said, “I shall handle everything today.” “Alright, I appreciate it. Goodbye.” She turned to the siren. “Goodbye, Adagio.” Adagio nodded then looked at Cinch. “You know, you could’ve asked us.” Cinch raised an eyebrow in response. “We wouldn’t have had a reason to cover for them. We used to ridicule the ponies’ ideals of friendship.” Cinch didn’t answer for a few seconds. “And where do you stand now, Adagio?” “I... I don’t know,” said the siren. “It’s difficult to adjust one’s worldview like this. Wouldn’t you agree?” “Indeed.” Cinch furrowed her brow. “But, what I’ve found,” Adagio continued, “is that we can just treat it as trying another new hobby and see how it goes. We’ve had to find new ways to amuse ourselves throughout the decades.” “I’d rather not know, I’m sure,” said Cinch. Adagio smirked. “I’m pretty sure I know why you’re here, Abacus,” Lóbrego said, chewing on a piece of chicken. Cinch kept her eyes off the messily eating man. “I would expect you to be. It’s been all over the news.” She glanced at a pan on the counter, thick with grease. “And you, of course, want me to tell you what to do with him.” “Yes.” Lóbrego pointed the drumstick at her. “I think deep down you know what I’m going to say. You just want me to convince you, isn’t that right?” “...Yes.” “Well, I can’t refuse a young lady can I?” The man picked his teeth. “Let me spell it out for you. This could become a tough stain if you don’t clean it out right away.” Cinch shook her head. “But he’s a friend. I can’t just do this to him.” “Cinchie, you chose this responsibility. Is a single friendship worth the risk? It won’t look good if you keep a drunk-driving buffoon on staff!” “He was coming home from a wedding...I don’t even want to think what this would do to him.” “Nobody cares, Abacus. He’ll live without your friendship.” Lóbrego leaned back and put his arms behind his head. “Everyone will. And you? You’ll have to learn to make difficult choices. This one I can make for you. Make a statement and let him go.” The names of her childhood friends were lost to Cinch, but looking up her former colleagues was easy. And that is why she ended up here, sitting opposite of Amethyst Maresbury in some coffee shop in Poshley Heights. “So... how have you been, Amethyst?” asked Cinch, swirling her spoon. The woman across the table scrutinized her expression. The doors burst open. “What do you think you’re doing, Abacus Cinch?” “Calm down, Amethyst,” Cinch said as the woman slammed her hands on the desk. “He brought this upon himself.” “I can’t believe you! He’s our friend! And you didn’t even talk to any of us first?” Cinch’s shoulders sagged a little bit. “Amethyst, you have to understand, I have no choice when something like this happens. Friends or not, I can’t afford to sink Crystal Prep’s reputation.” “You know what, Abacus?” Amethyst stood straight. “You are different from Sombra. But you’re no better than him.” “I’m sorry you think so, Amethyst. Perhaps you’ll understand in the future.” Amethyst Maresbury sighed, bags under her eyes and early wrinkles on her brow. “I’m not sure I can believe you, Abacus. People our age don’t magically change.” “You’re right,” Cinch said. “I don’t regret any of my decisions. Given the chance, I would make them all again.” Amethyst gave her a weary look. “This does not mean I can’t be sorry for their consequences.” Amethyst exhaled and cast down her eyes. “So you throw away everyone in your life, pretend that we don’t exist for thirty—” she shook her head “—more than thirty years now! And you suddenly want to ‘reconnect’? What happened?” “I’d rather not talk about it,” Cinch said. Amethyst raised an eyebrow at that. “Yes, something did happen. It’s personal.” Amethyst kept her eyebrow up for a second then looked away and grabbed her cup with both hands. “Do you remember when Professor Neigh quit? I asked what was wrong because you looked upset and you told me you liked him.” A passing smile lit up her face. “And then I convinced you to write him a letter and we read his reply together.” Cinch sat silently for several seconds. Her eyes danced around the table. She gathered herself. “Amethyst, I... I would like us to have that again.” Her former friend gave Cinch another long, uncertain look. Cinch met it stoically. “Now, please, get ahold of yourself. I need everyone here able and focused,” Cinch said. “We will have to repair the damage.” Amethyst looked at Cinch with worry written all over her features. Cinch averted her eyes. Amethyst sighed, turned around and slowly left. “You know what?” Amethyst’s mouth shifted into a sad smile. “So would I.” Cinch’s phone buzzed in her bag. She twitched but didn’t reach for it. Amethyst nodded. “Just take it, Abacus.” It turned out to be a text message, sent from Sombra’s number, which Cinch had forgotten about even having in the phone’s memory. The message read as follows: ‘My boys tell me those red gems from the other day don’t belong to any of the known gemstone types in the world. I think you owe me some answers, Cinchie.’ Cinch groaned and put her head in her hands in resignation.