Sparkyll and Hyde

by Dragon Spire

Act I: Chapter Five

Act I: Chapter Five:
Good 'n Evil

Soarin's wings bristled in the icy wind clawing at his mane. His feathers laced with ice crystals and sore muscles from prolonged flying made their wings tight against his back. Other than a pair of flimsy goggles he'd 'borrowed' prior to leaving the Wonderbolt Academy for the last time, he wore a thin cloak to cover his lower back and flank, and shield himself from the worst of the cold.

Thunder rumbled overhead and dark clouds blocked his view. For the worst of luck, he could have already flown over Canterlot and was halfway to Appleloosa without even knowing it. There was the option of diving down to reevaluate his location, but he chose not to.

There were some ponies who buried their frustrations by creating art, or going to a play, or just taking a brisk walk. Soarin's preferred method was flying high up into the clouds, where the dangerous ambiance of thin air and cold wind helped the mind wander. His teammates used to scold him for risking his safety, often giving lectures on oxygen starvation and killing brain cells, but he knew better. He taught himself a long time ago of how to pace his breathing so something like that wouldn't happen.

But the main reason he did it? For the exhilaration of every heartbeat, every full breath he would take once his 'suicide flight' - dubbed by his teammates - was over. Everyday, ponies around him would take their blessings for granted, thinking there was something more out there. Not for him. He refused to take for granted the things that kept him alive. Let it never be said that someone who took their things for granted knew what they had when the 'lights went out'.

Unfortunately, even the best ponies forgot that sometimes.

A long time ago, Soarin would have looked back on his career with the Wonderbolts and think how darn lucky he was to be where he was.

But, no. Never again.

When he last set eyes on the Wonderbolt Headquarters, when he'd dropped his uniform off for the last time, he felt only the slice in his chest and Spit's words in a conversation all about him.

Reckless. Only a means to an end. Better off without him. His replacement will bring glory back to our team!

Soarin bit the inside of his cheek, gasping lightly against the lack of air. Memory after memory of the loyalty he thought the Wonderbolts represented overcame him with every flap of his wings. Practicing loop-de-loops with Fleetfoot. Signing autographs. Hanging out with Spit. They were beautiful, for a time. But looking at them in the now, they were just minutes on a clock that ticked to the moment when Spit would make up that venomous lie, urging him to quit:

"I'm sorry, Soarin. I tried to convince them, but this last show was their last straw. Baltamare's threatening to sue us unless we let you go. If we don't the Wonderbolts could most likely shut down for good."

Of course, in his kinder nature, he left, never suspecting a thing. And it was in his good luck that Glider and Silver Mist, two showmares looking to start a theatre, were waiting outside for him, offering a new job. A performer, both singing and acting, if he were up to it. Having nothing to lose, he signed on. It was weird, though, how they knew he was a decent actor, and an even more decent singer. He had never told anyone, since he was signed up with his team before the end of high school.

But he wasn't a Wonderbolt anymore. He knew it, Spit knew it; hell, even his own cutie mark knew it.

He tightened the clasp to his cloak, careful to conceal his flank. Thankfully, Dusty was talented in makeup, she could help out with that issue.

. . . Assuming he got to her before Glider found him.

Seeing the mountain peak coming into view, he dove down into fresh air and checked the ascension of the moon. It was close to six when he'd left. He swore into the empty air. At its current height it was well past eight-thirty. He was supposed to be onstage at seven sharp.

Glider was going to kill him. Scratch that, she was going to personally bury him. Alive.

Huffing out a hot breath, he snapped into a near-sonic boom towards the city. He may have been dangerously late, but he wasn't going to run from taking responsibility for it. Not like Spit did.

Aiming himself so that he was level with the train station, he tucked his legs in and locked his wings in for landing. The ice imbedded in his wings vaporized, freeing the feathers.

The station came at him, his hooves just scraping into the roof as ponies below him screamed and ran for cover. He laughed. Ponies these days were such chickens.

His distraction, however, rewarded his with slamming into the side of a hotel building. Hooves outward in an 'x' formation, he peeled off the wall and collapsed onto his side. His skull jolted as he bit down on his tongue, coppery flavor filling his mouth.

The nearby ponies stopped and laughed at the former Wonderbolt's display of clumsiness. Soarin helped himself up, shaking off his dizziness.

Idiot! Wasn't this what Spit was trying to tell him? That he too easily distracted himself? He couldn't even perform a proper landing anymore. Whatever sharp reflexes and tactics that made him invaluable to the Wonderbolts were dead, and denying that was only driving that final nail into the coffin of his career.

Ignoring those who ridiculed him, he slipped into the shadow of a dark alley; a little-known shortcut that led directly to the Altrotta. If he followed the right path.

Go straight, then a left, two rights, then a second left. Then straight the rest of the way.

Leaping over a trash can wedged between the narrow walls, he skidded at the exit. A glowing sign pointed at the pegasus race-track, indicating this was where he needed to be.

Poking less than one green eye out, he spotted the twin streetlamps at the Altrotta's steps, just now lighting up. The theatre was impossible to miss from there. Save for the gold lines all over, it reminded him of the mansion from that Mareo Sisters spinoff game. Ponies of all races and ages were pooled on the fronts steps, their shouts faint from where he stood. The doors were to close soon, and his last chance to get in would be gone.

He fluttered over a conveniently placed table (not at all sarcastically put) and raced for the entrance. Cold chills traced his coat, the adrenaline from his flight beginning to wear off. Reaching the lampposts, he tripped over a tiny drake He had reached the lampposts in front of the stairs when he tripped over a tiny drake, who carried a load on his back, and flailed alongside him.

"Hey, careful!" the dragon yelped, pushing himself back up. "I got some important stuff in here!"

Soarin mumbled an apology before hopping back up. On any other day he'd be more than happy to help the drake carry that sack, but with his own load on his shoulders, he couldn't afford to.

He pushed through the ponies packed at the doors, all of them chucking their complaints at him, regardless of his 'excuse mes'.

"Alright, everypony, theatre's full! Get home!" Avalanche, the entrance usher, waved the ponies back, eager to shut the twin doors.

"Wait, Avalanche!" Soarin jammed his hoof into the small crack, holding the door open.

"Well, well, Soarin," the unicorn smugly grinned. "'Bout time you got here. Glider's gunning for you."

He exhaled, a white puff of air escaping. "I know. I . . . got sidetracked." He tried to push the door open. "Now, can you please let me in?"

Avalanche's mossy eyes held only teasing sarcasm. "You got wings. Who says you can't just go through the second floor?"

The yellow glow from the windows was gentle. Inviting, even. He and his fellow performers all spent their free time and bunked up there. But so did Glider. Her silhouette fell from the light like the looming shadow of a tombstone.

"Damn it, you know why!" He banged his free hoof against the door frame.

The other grinned in his tantalizing him, about to say something else, until a mare's sharp voice could be heard. He pulled away, then groaned, mumbling something to her. "Alright, fine, Soarin. Get in here, before Glider finds you."

He brushed cold sweat from his face. The others behind him protested and tried to butt in after him, only for Glacier to completely shut the doors.

"Damn nobles, thinking they can get whatever they want."

"I hear ya."

"Soarin!" He yelped, feathers ruffling. A hoof grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face the stern blue eyes of Silver Mist. Behind her, there was another mare - at least, he thought so. They used their mane as a shield from his eyes, but one turquoise eye curiously peeked at him.

"Where were you?" Silver demanded. "The others had to fill in for your lateness!" Her 'wings' flared out as if they 'thought' the feathers were still there. They still creeped him out; that is, how deathly they looked compared to the rest of her.

"Hi, Silv'," he smiled awkwardly. "Um, sorry I'm late?" Losing the grin, he sighed, "I had some issues back at Cloudsdale. I'm really sorry." He had stepped closer to her as he spoke, offering his hoof in apology.

Silver's icy expression softened, eyes shifting. "Oh, Soarin," she sighed, "Fine, I forgive you." She took his hoof, then turned around, facing the walkway on either side of the dining area, made especially for kitchen staff and performers to navigate with ease. Her friend followed close behind like an obedient puppy. "I'm afraid Glider may be less understanding than I. Now get to the backstage, quickly!" She shoved him ahead.

"Wait, you're telling Glider I'm here?" Soarin panicked.

Silver gave a sympathetic look. "Soarin, you know I can't lie for you. The next time Glider sees me, she'll ask if I saw you. I've the responsibility to tell her, choleric as she is."

Rolling his shoulders, Soarin accepted the inevitable and trotted off.

As he passed, the other mare brushed her mane off her face, and gave a small smile to him. "Um, hello." She must have been antisocial, because then she retreated back into her mane with a small peep.

"This is Fluttershy, a previous student of mine from many years ago." Silver briefly explained. "I'm certain you've heard of her as the Bearer of Kindness, yes? Then facing her student, "You have seen Soarin on some occasions, haven't you?"

Fluttershy withdrew from her shield. Once, Silver. I was at the Young Flyers' Competition supporting Rainbow Dash, and Soarin was there." She glanced briefly at him, then retreated back into her mane.

Meanwhile, Soarin reminisced back to that competition. He didn't recall ever talking to Fluttershy, but definitely saw her amongst the crowd. But the thought of greener times with the Wonderbolts brought salty bile rising in his throat, so he changed the subject. "So, Fluttershy? Nice to meet you. Did you want to go have a drink later, or go out - Ow!" Silver had knocked him upside the head with a wing. "Alicorns Above, why'd you do tha - Ow!" And once more.

Silver hopped in front of him. "That one was for blasphemy, Soarin. I will not tolerate you cursing our princes and princesses, living or dead!"

The stallion rubbed the back of his head, certain there was already a bruise forming. "Heh, sorry, Silv'." Then glancing at Fluttershy, "I was just kidding. I just say that to be friendly." A pause. "She ever use corporal punishment with you?"

Wordlessly, she shook her head. Why wouldn't she talk to -

Oh, right. Fluttershy.

The mare's expression, though, answered clearly enough that Silver's wing-slaps were meant for ponies like him.

As he took the lead again, he glanced back to check if Glider was coming, but then collided into a cart with stacked trays and pans. Falling over the cart, which flipped onto its side, his back legs caught into of the shelves as the metalwork spilled across the floor with a loud clatter, drawing unwanted attention from nearby nobleponies. Only his front legs kept him from banging his head.

"Be careful, Soarin!" Silver hissed at him. "That is not making this ordeal of yours any easier!"

The pegasus gave that half-hearted, doofus grin and freed himself, careful to keep his head down as he slinked away.

The entrance to the backstage was little more than an empty frame with a rope strung across it. The sign there read, "Performers Only!". He hopped over, and walked to his right. Darkness muted the hallway, save for a dim orange glow at the end, where the others were waiting. Lively music played there too, a muting spell cast to allow performers to do as they pleased without disrupting the outside.

As he walked, Soarin tripped once or twice on some props laying around, making noise that was drowned out by the music. He'd have to talk to Night Glider about that later. Her bad habit with leaving props laying around was dangerous. Unless she'd meant it for Glider . . .

Night's silhouette made a graceful bow up onstage as she finished her number and slipped through the curtain. As she fluttered off the stage, her navy-blue coat morphed into the darkness, making her equally-blue eyes and silver, wind-blown mane stand out like candles in darkness.

"Well, it's about time you got here," she remarked, annoyed. "Where were you? Shopping for cloaks?" She eyed his suspiciously.

Soarin bowed his head, saddened. He'd have to come clean soon enough, but for the time being settled with, "I got a little sidetracked."

Night's low glare softened, then changed to a small smile. "You're still a half-flanked slacker, Soarin. But as long as you're alright. Now get in here; we're all waiting!" She gently grabbed his hoof in hers and led him towards the light.

As they entered the small square room, they saw, among five backups and musicians, a young pegasus mare with a bluish-grey coat and a fluffy grey mane. She stood on her hind legs singing her heart out in a jazz-like voice:

Link

"Here in Canterlot's end,

It's the pits of the earth

Where you won't find a friend,

Where your life has no worth!

"Death is waiting;

Fate is marking your card!

"You've got one chance in five,

They're odds you must outdo

If you want to survive,

So be fast your hooves!

"Life is hard here;

For it's Discord's backyard!"

The musicians all applauded her just as she did a spin, coming muzzle to muzzle with Soarin. "Oh, hey, Soarin!" Her pink eyes were like Hearth's Warming. "You actually came!" The musicians waved at Soarin.

"Told you he'd come, Dusty," said Night. "I just didn't know when exactly."

The mare's actual name was Dust Devil, but both Soarin and Night called her Dusty for short. She nuzzled Soarin in a tight hug, did the same with Night, then waved them in.

"I didn't know what to do since you weren't here," said Dusty, "So I just started cheering up the musicians, and they liked how I mixed Wildhorn's songs with a jazz theme, so I went with that. Although, I wish Nighty could'a helped with that, but she sucks at jazz, so it was just me!"

Night just shrugged and walked to the back wall, where a device with a crescent moon hung just above her head. It exactly matched her cutie mark. "In my defense, I can make some hell of good props and settings for your numbers to make up for it." To emphasize, she pulled a small lever hidden along the prop, which made the moon switch phases.

"Mm, yeah, that's true," Dust Devil mumbled, then changed subjects. "Oh, did Silver tell you yet? Some stupid noble pony was bullying this unicorn doctor, so she came to help and totally whooped his flank! You should have seen it, Soars." The musicians nodded assent.

Soarin blinked, impressed, but got his focus back. "That's great, Dusty, but I need your help with something."

"Look, Soarin," said Night, "I get that you didn't mean to take so long, but you can't exactly hide from Glider. You'll have to fess up sometime. But maybe she'll let you off with a warning or something."

Dusty 'pshhed' at that. "Yeah, right. Do you know that yesterday, I was thanking her for this job, just explaining that I had a little sis to take care of since my weather job in Ponyville was a bust. But she just rolls her eyes at me and says I'm 'wasting my time with family'."

"Dusty, please!" Soarin tapped the table, getting her attention. "This isn't about Glider! I just need you help covering this up!" Whipping off the cloak, he showed the mares his cutie mark; or rather, lack thereof. The musicians stopped in their own conversation, blinking in misunderstanding.

"We'll give you all some room," said one of them, starting for the stage. "We need to do some last-minute tuning, anyways." Soarin could tell that some of the musicians wanted to stay for the juicy details, but the ringleader's statement made it clear that he wanted to respect his privacy.

When the room was cleared out, Dusty was the first to speak. "I-I don't get it. Where's your cutie mark?"

Soarin paused, looking for a way to say it correctly. "It . . . vanished . . . when I left Cloudsdale to drop my outfit off."

"But how?" Night demanded. "W-what happened that -" She was too flustered to even form a question. Made sense, since he didn't know the right questions to ask either.

So he started with the most simple explanation. "Spit lied to me. There was no lawsuit."

Both mares wore uncomprehending expressions.

"What?"

"B-but, the accident! I thought -"

Soarin held a hoof aloft to hush her. He didn't need to relive his night with his date, then passing out in the middle of his routine. The chaos that followed after was enough memory to cringe from. "I dropped the uniform off, but as I was leaving, Fleetfoot came in. I didn't want to start an awkward conversation, so I hid behind the lockers. But she was talking to Spitfire about the new recruit - and, yes, the same mare I was with - and how she'd recover lost funds."

Night's eyes narrowed. "She was your replacement."

He sighed. "Yeah. Apparently, she'd auditioned once, and they were just waiting for somepony to screw up enough to make up some garbage about a lawsuit to guilt them off the team. But lawsuit or none, it'd work either way. I know, because Spit said that, clear as day. She was 'boohooing' about how much she 'regretted' lying to me just to 'spare my feelings'.

Dusty was breathing in shaky cycles. "So, the cutie mark?"

"The Wonderbolts represent honor, teamwork, loyalty. When I realized they really didn't respect any of these, I'm assuming my cutie mark bailed on me, too. So, can you? I don't wanna raise any questions."

Dusty wordlessly complied, taking out a special makeup kit meant especially for making fake cutie marks for plays, and went right to work.

Night was still rooted where she was. "But they need you." Her words held no confidence.

"Nopony needs me, Night," Soarin mumbled back. "I was just a toy to be played with until I wasn't wanted. I was never needed."

"O-okay, so it was bound to happen," stammered Dusty, trying to keep her hooves steady. After tracing the lightning bolt and wings, she moved to the other flank. "I mean, I was kinda fired the same way. Well, I wasn't lied to, I don't think. But I screwed up during the annual water-gathering in Ponyville, and they had some better weather ponies to take my place."

Moving from her place for the first time, Night sighed. "'Harmony is reserved for the few, harmony is shattered amongst the many.' A whole team of competitive pegasi . . . I'm not even surprised anymore. Just like them . . ." She lovingly traced the edges of her cutie mark. Nothing to do with flying.

"C'mon, cheer up already!" Dusty snapped. "None of those dumb ponies matter anymore. We've got us, now, and I say that's all we need. Just a couple good friends and a job to do together . . . sorry, that was cheesy, wasn't it? My sis says I spew stuff like that all the time."

Soarin quickly shook his head. "No, you're right. The Wonderbolts are dead to me, anyway."

"And my family," muttered Night. "Thanks, Dusty, you're the mare."

"Yup, that's what I'm here for. Speaking of which, you're all done, Soars." She packed her makeup and set the box back to its place. "So, what do you think?"

Soarin trotted to a mirror in the back, staring his reflection down. Both marks were finely detailed, from every feather to the edges of the lightning bolt - it was all even traced with black to make it stand out more. "Exactly as if I was still a Wonderbolt." His tone hung bittersweetly. If he looked hard enough, he could imagine his signature uniform on him.

"Regardless of the Blunderbolts, you look better with this cutie mark," said Night, placing herself within the frame, next to him, "Rather than a different one."

"Oh, really?" He purred slyly, "Maybe you want to compliment me some more up on the balcony later?" He brushed a wing under her chin teasingly, before the call of one of the musicians sounded.

"Girls, Soarin, you're on next. Get ready."

Soarin nodded at him. "Got it. We'll be right there." Happy, the backup returned to his place onstage.

"To be continued?" Night tilted her head.

Soarin clambered onto the stage, facing the curtain. "Sure. But leave the cuffs home."

She blushed insanely pink. "Soarin!"

"Come on, you love me." The three took their positions, him in the lead, and the mares behind and to his sides. He'd offered, in many rehearsals, for Night to take lead, but she didn't want it, saying that she was much more comfortable under one's hoof. Applause sounded from the other side and the limelights cut out. It was almost time. The performer entered the backstage, nodded respectfully at the three, then teleported.

There was a chance, a slight chance, that Soarin could turn this around; if Glider was impressed by his first real performance, and then some until the end of the show, maybe she'd be almost as forgiving as Silver.

He slipped through the curtain, hearing his teammates close behind.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Twilight stamped her hooves and cheered for the unicorn singer. His baritone voice provided a perfect performance of 'Stars' from Neigh Misérables, her favorite song from that play; contrary to the belief from her friends that it had to do with her cutie mark. The reason was, beside the touching instrumentals, the many open interpretations of the lyrics. Some believed it referred to the Alicorns Above, the deceased Alicorns who became one with the stars upon their passing, and protected their subjects in their disembodied eternity. Some argued that the song was from Princess Celestia's perspective in hunting the 'fugitive', Nightmare Moon for stealing her sister away.

As for Twilight herself? It was a little bit of both for her. Clearly, the stars acting as sentinels were the Alicorns Above, awaiting the day when the Solar Princess would end the Nightmare's reign of carnage.

Fluttershy had returned to her seat just before the song had begun, just in time to find her fruit salad waiting for her.

"Back so soon?" Applejack had asked.

"Yes, Silver had to tend to other patrons, so I told her I wanted to rejoin you," Fluttershy had said. "Besides, she'll meet up with us later."

She had stared nibbling on orange slices sandwiched with spinach leaves when the singer slipped behind the curtains, taking mind to the darkness now that the limelight had cut out.

"Well, you certainly received your wish, Twilight," said Rarity, eating her own salad between sentences, and only one leaf at a time. "You did hope for there to be an homage towards this play, did you not?"

She did. Her absolute favorite play, and her absolute favorite song from said play? She'd be crazy not to!

Rainbow faked a yawn. "All they do in that play is stand around, complain about their problems, and occasionally duke it out! Where's the awesome stuff?"

"Say what you will, Rainbow," Twilight answered, "But its production is a landmark on the history of our culture! First it was a book, cherished by all, and -"

The lights dimmed down once more and cut her off. Here came the next act. Soft, deceptive music similar to a snake charmer's pungi mingled with the anxious crowd's applause.

"I wonder who's up next?" pondered Applejack. "Music sounds like somethin' that jazzy mare sung darn good."

Twilight pressed her lips together. "I have no idea, but with what we got so far, I'm certain it'll be as great as the others." If squinting, she could make out three silhouettes up in front, and a small group in the back; five or seven at most, by her count. The main three held various poses on their hind legs, the one in the center standing the tallest, and their faces were illuminated when the limelight returned.

The two mares on the sides were both performers from before; one with a coat darker than Luna's and the other who sang jazz and had a palette that looked like someone sprinkled soot on her. But the stallion in the center . . .

"Soarin?" Twilight gasped. She nearly spilt her beverage when her aura lost its grip for a moment. What in Equestria was he doing here? When looking around, she saw each of her friends shared similar looks.

"Well, well, well. I never thought I'd see the day when Soarin were singin' Bridleway . . ." whispered Applejack.

"Maybe he's doing a side job for extra money?" Twilight offered, mostly recovered by the sudden turn, but then was rejected by Rainbow, who slammed a hoof onto the table, making the plates and glasses rattle.

"Hellloooo! Wonderbolts are richer than horse-crap! Richer than both Princesses combined! He probably lost a bet or something."

Rarity, however, held a look of distain after the moment had passed, and scoffed. "I wouldn't doubt that. Especially what this one does in his spare time with young, naïve mares . . . He's more slippery as an oiled snake in Froggy Bottom Bog -"

"Quiet!" Pinkie shushed. "They're starting!"

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Rarity had settled down, yet was stubborn to lose her visage of contempt. Facing the trio of pegasi again, Twilight saw that Soarin was taking the lead, while the mares looked to him; in the metaphorical and literal sense. He let himself down on all four hooves and walked predator-like to the edge of the stage, trapping the audience in a startling, emerald gaze.

"Good 'n Evil, and their merits;

They've been argued through history as well as they should.

"My philosophy - any filly can see - Good is Evil . . .

And - there - fore - all - evil is . . . good!"

His wings extended with grace, he snapped them into his back as the music swelled. The mares then went their own way, performing little hops and circling the stage.

"I'm impressed so far," said Twilight. "I had no idea he could sing!" Each of the girls, save for Rarity, all watched the performance with wonder. The fashionista snorted in response and muttered something drowned out by the music.

Soarin turned on one leg, back to the center and continued, all the while his words dripping with contempt and sarcasm.

"How do you tell Evil from Good?"

"Tell us, Soarin!" Twilight heard a fan-mare shriek.

"Evil does well, and Good . . . heh, not so good.

"Evil's the one that is free everywhere,

Good is the one that they sell!

"You must decide which is Heaven . . .

And which is Hell . . ."

The mares returned to his side, laying on their stomachs, staring up at him, and copying his words:

"Heroes maintain,"

(Heroes maintain,)

"'Evil's a curse!'"

('Evil's a curse!')

"But it is plain,"

(But it is plain,)

"We aren't fooled, Good's even worse!"

The mares slid up onto their legs seamlessly, struck another pose, then walked towards the end of the stage with him.

"Evil's the one that they tell you to shun,

"'Good is the one to embrace.'"

"Say that, and Discord'll laugh right in your face!"

Soarin joined the mares, holding each in a wing.

"The battle between Good 'N Evil goes back to the start!"

"Envy, hate, and the Elements tore the Sisters apart!"

"The key thing about Good 'N Evil:

Each of us must choose!"

"Heaven and Hell is a hell of a gamble to lose!

"But as I peruse,"

(As I peruse,)

"This world we abuse,"

(This world we abuse,)

"It's Hell that we choose!"

(It's Hell that we choose!)

"And Heaven must lose!"

Twilight felt the tips of her ears burn white-hot. It couldn't be that simple. Yet the answer spoke otherwise. She couldn't miss a word of this. "Rarity? Mind if we switch seats?" Hers sat in front of the table, perfect for a closer look. Rarity shrugged indifferently and moved aside for her. Whipping out a notepad in her sweater's pocket, she began to take down notes on the song so far and now.

(Evil!)

"Evil is everywhere,"

(Good!)

"Good doesn't have a prayer!"

(Good!)

"Good is commendable,"

(Evil!)

"Evil, dependable!"

(Evil!)

"Evil is viable,"

(Good!)

"Good's unreliable!"

"Good may be thankable,

But Evil is bankable!"

Soarin strutted off the stage, looking no longer than a few seconds at each table where most of Canterlot's hypocritical noble-ponies sat. He stopped at Twilight's and eyed the doctor.

"Evil's for me, Good, you'll pursue,

Just doesn't suit me to be . . . Daring Do"

Green piercing purple, his eyes skimmed over her, almost judging. Twilight was unsure of what to make of his stare. She dropped her gaze away.

He then stepped towards Rarity and tried to lift her chin, but his wing was slapped away. Instead, he grinned, heading back to the stage.

"It's easier by far by the way that things are to remain Good 'N Evil . . .

"Than try to be, Evil . . . and . . . Good . . .!"

(Easier by far to remain Good 'N Evil than try to be Evil and Good!)

He and the mares returned to their original poses from the beginning, the lights cut out, and the song ended. Hoofstamps and whistles filled the room, including from Twilight's circle of friends. Rainbow was, among all of them, the most excited, and was whooping with glee.

"Yeah! Go, Soarin!"

Twilight herself hid a smile under the shadows, scanning her scribblings on her notepad. Bad was good, and good was bad . . . Sacred was profane . . . and better to be mad in a world that was insane. In a world where everyone was insane.

It could work! She really could do it!

It took all her will to keep her hooves from trembling. If this was correct, she didn't have to worry about getting a pony from the asylum. Her test subject was close, much closer than any of her friends could guess.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Soarin and the mares bounced from genre to genre, from play to play, with a dozen more songs. Each of them, although enjoyed, couldn't draw Twilight's mind away from her discovery. She writhed as every concluded song led to another, grander one. It was a mental torture, to dangle over the line between having a pleasant night off, and combing over this new idea.

Finally, ten o' clock struck.

"Thanks, everypony, and have a good night!" All three crowed in unison before departing backstage. "As for us, we'll 'Altrotta' outta here!"

As the heaping crowd surrounding them dispersed from the building, Rarity set a small pile of bits and then some to pay for her and everyone else's meals, and to tip the waiter.

"Gotta hand it to y'all," said Applejack to Fluttershy and Rainbow. "You done picked a good place to unwind." She plucked a scarf from Rarity's bag and began winding it.

"Oh, so you did enjoy tonight?" said Silver Mist. Her mane looked damp with sweat, and a few stray hairs stood out from it. She didn't have to explain, it was clear she had to walk against the ocean of patrons.

"Eeyup. I reckon it's safe to say we all had a darn good time."

This seemed to brighten the wingless pegasus' face. "Oh, that's good. Glider will be thrilled to know our opening yielded the results she wanted, minus that earlier complication."

"Just have Soarin put in a good word for me at the Wonderbolts Academy," Rainbow grinned at Applejack, "And we'll call it even, AJ."

Silver winced back at this. She stepped back, towards Fluttershy, before Twilight could question it. "I'm sorry, dear, but I have to return to other matters with Glider. I do hope you understand." Quickly beelining to the staircase, she left the group alone.

Curious. With everyone situated, she withdrew her notepad, scanning over what she'd wrote. As she drank in the information and organized it to something that made sense, it dawned on her how much she owed Soarin. She would never have realized this without his help. And like anyone who had decent manners, she hated leaving debts unpaid, or, at least, without proper gratitude. "Wait, girls?"

The others were turning to leave, all dressed in their scarves and winter coats. "What's up, sugarcube?" Applejack piped up, setting her own bits on the table.

"I . . . I want to stay a bit longer . . . there's something I need to talk to Soarin about."

"Oh, talk with him, dear?" Rarity began with an edge to her voice, "Whatever it is you may have in mind, leave such a temptation alone. That stallion is nothing more -"

"Rarity!" Twilight shouted. "I never said anything about that! I just want to ask him some questions!" The fashionista scrutinized her, then motioned for her to elaborate. But she couldn't exactly say that he gave her the help she needed. "I . . . want to know why he's really here. We were all wondering the same thing, so I think it's better to lay this question to rest."

Rarity scowled, most likely about her friend having anything to do with Soarin. But eventually, calm washed over her face. "Oh, very well," she muttered softly. "But please, do be careful with that scoundrel."

"Oh, haven't you heard?" That voice made Twilight bite down hard enough to break teeth. "Dearest Soarin was shot down from the Wonderbolts in his prime. Such a shame. Really."

Twilight faced her. "Not tonight, please. I'm not in the mood, Octavia."

She had approached her and the girls with two stallions in tow, one of which was the usher who refused Spike entry. "Why? Going home to restudy your books again, now that your work has hit a rut?"

She broke her eyes from the cellist. She hated that she knew how compulsive she was. But she couldn't bring herself to speak up, not at what cost it had.

But Rainbow quickly came to her defense. "Hey, back off! She said, not tonight." She interrupted when Octavia tried to retaliate. "She's got way more important things to do than deal with losers like you! She's Princess Celestia's student; she's got world-changing magic to discover! And you? What mediocre music pieces are you writing that's gonna distract somepony for five minutes?"

Her mouth went agape. One of the stallions started for her, but she held him back. "No. Like she said: time's ticking. I've better things to do than squabble with Celestia's pet. As for you five, you should be ashamed you have anything to do with her." With a small huff, she twisted on her hooves, trotting away.

"Yeah! That's right!" Rainbow screamed after her. "Keep running, tramp!"

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight gasped. "You can't just -"

The pegasus didn't look phased. "What? Everypony was thinking it. I just had the guts to say it."

"Aw, don't let it go buggin ya, sugarcube. She darn well deserved it."

Twilight sighed. "Maybe. But that doesn't mean she should still get that sort of treatment." She looked ahead to where her adversary departed. "But I can tell she's in for a big fall. If she doesn't let go of her jealousy over me, she's going to find herself in a lot of trouble someday. And those good looks those stallions are swooning over? They won't help in the slightest."

The sound of a curtain being pulled hit Twilight. Revolving to the source, she saw Soarin and his friends hopping down from the stage. Excusing herself, she started towards him, already several different ways to start the conversation spinning in her brain. Yet as she did, fear passed over on the lighter-colored mare's face as she glanced up to the second floor.

"Soarin, look out!" she screamed. Soarin, too, looked up, then darted forward.

But Glider was faster. Much faster.

Like a fiery bolt, she dove from the second floor, hooves booming on the wooden floor just in front of him. He jolted to a stop, slipping onto his back from the momentum. The two other mares tried to fly to his defense, but Silver had appeared from the shadows to stop them. In that time, Soarin swerved for the opposite direction, and Glider once again cut him off. Before he could react, Glider sucker-punched him aside the jawline. He staggered groggily, face smacking into the floor.

Twilight shouted indiscernibly, about to teleport in front of the assailant, only for Rarity to hold her back. "No! Let go!"

"Dear, please!" she moaned, fighting against Twilight's strength. "Interfering shall only complicate things; for both him and you."

She struggled a few more times, but Twilight finally gave up, laying on her knees to convince Rarity. When wearily looking to her side, she saw the exact same thing had happened to Rainbow, being restrained by Applejack.

Glider now held Soarin captive, one wing tightened around a leg, now that he stood on all fours. Most of the conversation was indiscernible, but from she could make out, he was the late performer, and she was demanding to know why he was late.

"I gave you this job when you had nothing!" Glider suddenly panted loudly. "I can just as easily throw you away, just like those Wonderbolts did! And I'll find singers better than you, those who can take their schedules seriously."

Soarin's reply was too quiet to hear.

Then one of his friends flew beside her - the darker one with her silvery mane - and spoke to her. Whatever she said, Glider took on a smug visage and answered, "Oh, fine. If that's all it was. But don't expect me to throw any pity parties in the future. Even if we're both 'Gliders'." She let go of Soarin, chuckling to herself as she fluttered to the kitchen area.

Soarin stumbled over to a table, using a platter as a mirror to examine his bruise.

Twilight took no hesitation to go help him, and was just fast enough to avoid Rarity's attempts to grab her again.

"Oh, shoot!" she heard her swear. "I didn't even get the chance to give her my special whistle!"

Whistle? Twilight didn't know she'd kept these things around her, as she believed they were just ear-ra -

She held back a gag, realizing what exactly the whistle was for. "Oh, for buck's sake," she spoke under her breath.

The two other pegasi were hovering over him like protective mother hens, asking a plethora of questions, while Soarin was obviously rolling his eyes, but not in derision.

"Excuse me, please, I'm a doctor," Twilight commanded. The mares both recognized her and backed off, while Soarin scrutinized her.

"Huh. Didn't know you were a legit doctor, being Celestia's pet and all," he said.

Twilight bit back her anger and sighed out hot air. Why did everyone think she was some kind of slave to the princess, and particularly tonight? Dropping it, "I'm not that kind of doctor, but I have plenty of experience in the first-aid field to legally tend to injuries. My actual doctorates include medicine, neurology, chemistry . . . Right, your injuries. Now let's see . . . slight bruising around your cheek, major bruising on the jawline . . ." She pressed down on the bone with no reaction. "No fractured bones, no dislocated jaw -"

"Aw, that's too bad," said the lighter pegasus, "Would've spared us our ears."

Soarin shot a look at her. "Shut up, Dusty." There was no spite in the statement, presumably this was playful banter.

"Moving on," Twilight continued, "I don't see any other significant injuries. I just recommend icing that twice a day, especially before performances, and limit your speech to only necessary talking, just in case." Soarin quickly held at hoof at Dusty before she could say anything.

"Good to know you had my back there, Doctor," he turned back to her. "Or should I say, 'good to know you had my face'?"

Chuckling lightly, Twilight answered, "Yes, I think 'had your face' applies here. And you don't have to call me by my title. The doctor thing just comes with my PH.D.s.

"So I guess all that spite you get comes with it too?"

"Well, no. It comes with doing meaningful work that nopony's ever tried before." She offered him a seat, to which he accepted, and she followed suit. From behind, she heard a shuffling of hooves. Good, her friends were leaving. She needed this time alone with him. The two mares also took this hint and left as well, though the darker one had returned very briefly with an ice bucket.

"I'm sorry about having to talk about this," Twilight said, helping the ice into a plastic bag, then handed it to Soarin, "But I was told about the Wonderbolts, and your issue with them." Soarin snorted, pressing the ice with a wing. "But my friend wanted to know what had happened."

The pegasus looked grim over having to talk about it, but indulged anyway. "Let's just say that if she's planning to tryout for the team anytime soon, let her know that the Wonderbolts aren't exactly as loyal as they make themselves out to be." So betrayal. Maybe a replacement, resulted from Soarin's last show gone wrong. She'd read the papers about that, but being fired from the team must have just happened recently, or privately.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

But Soarin ignored it. "If it keeps one more pony from having their dreams shattered the hard way, it's an ordeal I'll put up with."

It was a good point to consider. "If there was a way to help you, I'd do it. But I'm not here to pour pity on you. I actually came to thank you."

Soarin laughed quietly. "What, did I indirectly kill one of those Governors you hate?" When Twilight shook her head, he replied, "Okay, never mind. At least there's that one who actually supports you." He smiled, his emerald eyes tracing hers. "So, seriously, what'd I do?"

"You helped me with your song, 'Good 'n Evil". I dunno . . . I really needed an outsider's opinion on this problem I had, and everything in those lyrics . . . just fit."

"Technically, those lyrics aren't mine. They're Wildhorn's. I just endorse them, and pray to the Alicorns Above that lawyers don't come knocking down our door."

"They still helped." She paused. "What do you know about my experiments and the natures of goodness and evil?"

Soarin shrugged. "Not much. I didn't pay attention in philosophy class."

"That's okay, I'll just sum it up. We all have two natures, good and evil, and they influence our actions. When evil becomes uncontrollable, we lose our sentience. But it's in random cases, so it doesn't happen to everypony."

"That's damn reassuring."

"Language. Anyway, I used to think that my formula, my TS8, could only separate good and evil from those who have already fallen, but it doesn't just work for them. Your song taught me that everyone's natures, how they're set up, that is, are different. No two levels are the same. Think of it like a scale -" she conjured one such scale made with pink light, the plates holding a dark and light orb "- Everypony's scales are different, everypony has different conditions in which their natures translate. An overblown egotistical personality, a physical deformity, or a even an everyday mental illness."

Pans and dishes clattered for the second time that night. Both Soarin and Twilight looked at the sound's source and saw Glider struggling in a food cart, all legs in one shelf, and her wings fluttering helplessly. A waiter tried to help, but she shouted at him. "I don't need your help! Just watch where you're going!" Managing to pry her limbs out, she snarled at anyone in her path, and flew back to the second floor.

"What was that about?" Soarin pondered.

Twilight couldn't provide an answer. They both settled back as she continued. "Erm, right, everypony has evil, and my TS8 can remove it. Only, I didn't know that it wasn't just the insane or comatose who could be affected. But everypony can. I know that now."

He watched as she released the spell. "But wouldn't it be better to destroy evil instead? There wouldn't be any more suffering."

"It won't work. Reforming someone into purity is not only impossible, but it's unkind. By doing so, one would remove all free will to act as they please. Even pulling a harmless prank would be out of the question for one without any shred of evil. Darkness has its part to play in us, because it's how we know what we do is right or wrong. It's only because it's too overpowered that I'm doing this."

"Hey, sugarcube?" Applejack called galloping towards her and Soarin. "Pardon me for breakin' up your, um . . . soirée?" The unicorn frowned at her, but was ignored. "But Silver's sayin' they gotta get to closin' up shop. We'd better go get Spike and get us home."

Of course. Spike was still guarding the Alicorn Amulet. In the back of her mind, she knew that by the time they 'picked Spike up', her friends would know what she was up to. But for the time being, she'd let them savor for a bit longer the feeling of not being deceived.

"I'll be right there, Applejack." When she left, the doctor slipped on the cloak Rarity had lent her, brushing the fabric meticulously. "I'm sorry to break this up so quickly, but you probably need to go back to your friends, right?"

"Yeah, I do. But I'm lucky to have any friends, considering what I'd been through as of late." He sighed, gently touching his bruise.

Did he even have any friends outside the Wonderbolts when he was still a part of the team? Or did he even have any friends now, besides those two mares? It only reminded her of when she moved to Ponyville under the charge of making friends, to her reluctant obedience. She didn't have time to make friends when she needed to find the correct recipe for the TS8 Formula, and this whole, 'friendship' thing was just driving a wedge into her priorities.

Did she ever tell her friends how much she hated doubting her mentor's wishes?

Through all the friends she'd made in Ponyville and the lessons she'd learned, she had honed her mind to have a tolerance towards the governors and those who bashed her work, and, most importantly, two of them were links in the chain that led her to finding the key to the TS8; Zecora with showing her trade in little-known potions, and Pinkie Pie, with finding the Mirror Pond.

Would she have even gotten close without the magic of friendship?

Twilight touched her hoof to Soarin's, sending sparks up her leg. "Then be glad to know you have one more friend." Sparks of doubt ran in his emerald eyes. "No, I mean it, Soarin. I can't thank you enough for what you've done. It's very possible that my mother will be saved, thanks to you. It's only fair to extend my hoof in friendship."

She withdrew a card from her pocket, a business card with just her name, profession, and Canterlot address. "If the condition of your bruise worsens, or, more importantly, if you need somepony to talk to, I'm staying in Canterlot for a couple weeks." As Soarin's eyes glinted, worry spread within Twilight as she remembered what Rarity said; about that 'special whistle'. "But I mean simply that. As a friend."

"Oh, you needn't worry yourself, Doctor," he answered, seeing the fear in her eyes. "I don't think you have enough of a lack of innocence to take a chunk out of me." Taking the card with feathers, he tucked it away, shooting at her a sly wink. "I'm sure you've got a busy night of your own, so I'll let you get to it." Before trotting to the staircase, he added, "And thank you. I mean, for everything. That friendship and whatnot. Glad I could do some kind of good for a pony like you."

He disappeared into the second floor. A cold chill swept through her as she pried her hooves away, and to the exit. They'd meet again soon, she was sure of it. But what did he mean by 'a pony like her' . . .?

A small smile crept onto her face. It really didn't matter, did it? He helped her, and she helped him. That's what friends did.

It was nice to know she wasn't the only one who saw those around her as they were as it was; some more good, some more evil, but none ever staying on one nature. Everyone was insane in this world, in their own way. And her Formula was the cure to insanity, the beacon in which it would lead them back to the light.

Exiting the Altrotta and joining her friends, Doctor Sparkle returned to the world of cynics and madmares, where passions are shot down and careers ruined if you didn't take care. But she would. The governors would finally see what she was trying to accomplish, those rumors stripping her down would finally die, and honor would be brought to the Princesses. But most importantly, her mother would be brought back to where she belonged. All because of an outsider's opinion.

But for now, there was work to be done.

Author's Note:

A couple notes I want to mention.

Dust Devil is a background character in the episode, "Hurricane Fluttershy", so not necessarily an OC.

Also, in 'Good n' Evil', I was originally going to put, "Evil's for me, you can have Good. It doesn't suit me to be Clopping Hood", but . . . considering the number of people on here who redefined what clop means . . . yeah, no. No.

. . . Everyone knows what's coming up next, huh?

Comments

[Captain Irons]

YES!
Keep up the good work.

[webarepony]

Songs from jekyll that i think you like

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmxVjXtmSaA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XygaOHD5N7A

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSWlE3HJoDg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEYao6-OcjU

[Dragon Spire]

6424493 I'm not completely familiar with "The World has Gone Insane", but I enjoyed listening to that one, and I love almost all the songs from the musical (I say almost because a couple of the reprises don't feel all that special.)

[webarepony]

6424508 glad you like the last one (And i understand about the reprisal thing) but you must admit alive had good clips from the earlier jekyll and hyde films that made it work quite well.)