Hexed

by Umbra Languish

Golden Rule

Golden Rule

The rough bark of an old, withered tree caught on Fluttershy's coat as she stumbled. She kept moving, back and away, whimpering softly in shock. Warm tears trickled down her face. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn't be real.

No.

No, no, no, she refused to believe that this was anything but a horrible dream, one that she just had to wake up from soon because there was absolutely no way that one of her friends would d…

There was no way that Pinkie would ever, ever be d…

… be dea…

"No! P-Pinkie!" Fluttershy sobbed.
The thought was too much for her to finish. Nothing. Nothing could cure that.
She began to cry her heart out.

In front of her, the murderer laughed.

"You!" Fluttershy screamed in pain and rage, her anger pushing a hot, painful strength through her veins. "Who are you?" she howled. "You're not Gilda! Gilda wouldn't do that!"

"Feh. Of course I would. You're not in Equestria any more, little pony!" The half-bird, half lion cackled maniacally as her long, menacing wings spread open. "I am a gryphon! Predator to your prey! What, did you think something else would happen? Hahaha, you idiot! Friendship means nothing! Only survival matters out here!"

The pegasus violently shook her head. It couldn't be true! "No! B-back in flight school you were a bully, not a murderer! You never tried to kill anypony!"

"Argh! Shut up!" Gilda snapped. Her hard beak clacked, the sharp sound ricocheting off the forest around them. "'Anypony' this, 'everypony' that! It makes me sick! This is why every other freaking nation hates your dumb little country!"

"What?" Fluttershy felt ill. "You monster!" she shouted, holding back her bile.

The gryphon actually thought she could justify … the thing she had done?
Impossible. Unthinkable. Pinkie was worth more than any excuse.
Pinkie was worth more than anything.

A slow, dull thump began to drum in the background as the murderer casually buffed her claws on a foreleg. "Hmm? Tell me, how have the Native Buffalo tribes been treated? Do they still have their rightful land?"

The pegasus winced. Well, yes, it was true that pony settlers could be unwittingly cruel in their efforts to expand. She had learned …

What was she thinking?

No! No, this was about Pinkie, not som—

Gilda snorted loudly, the sound disrupting her thoughts. "When the Zebrican famines were killing thousands, how many refugees did your country take?"

How awful! Famines? There were even refugees? The newspapers had never said anything about that! In fact, Fluttershy didn't really know anything at all about Zebrica! She did know a Zebra, but Zecora was an outcast who lived in social isolation. Surely there wasn't any …

"… oh no," she whispered.

Why did Zecora decide to come all the way to a distant land, only to live in a ramshackle hut in a creepy forest? Where were the mare's family and friends? What on earth had happened?

And why was it so hard to concentrate? She had to remember that Pinkie—

"Why do you say 'anypony', when you could say 'anyone'?" the gryphon drawled.

Those simple words hit Fluttershy the hardest, lancing in through her ribcage to strike at her heart. She didn't want to agree with the gryphon, but that same, insidious, treacherous thought had been haunting her for a very long time.

Spike had raised a similar point, once. Excuse me, he had mumbled. Not to be rude, but he wasn't a pony, so, maybe, could they use a different word? 'Everypony' was a constant reminder that he didn't quite fit in with the rest. He didn't feel accepted. But he had been callously waved away by a carefree Rarity, told that the name didn't matter. Spike was a pony in spirit, the unicorn had said.

No. It did matter.

Saying 'anypony' was an old pony custom, but it was rude, and … and nasty, and it was mean to say it! Was no-one else worth mentioning? Gryphons, dragons, mules, donkeys! Weren't they all people? Wasn't Angel a person? For many, many years, Fluttershy had been torn between the need for approval from her friends, and the pain she had to cause to get it. She didn't have the courage to stand out from the crowd, so she had to follow the popular trends.

Nevertheless, it was racism. There was no other way to see it. The thought that other animals were somehow worth less than ponies … it went against everything she had ever believed in.

And yet, this had nothing to do with Pink—

"You wanna know why? It's because you can," Gilda spat. "You hate foreigners. You hate anyone different. You stupid little ponies live in your stupid little paradise, protected by your stupidly powerful princess. Now look at you! The rest of the world despises you! And you know what? It's only fair. After all, you ponies hated them first."

"No! T-that's not true!" she cried. "It's not!"

Think of P—

"But gryphons! Oh no. We hold a special kind of hate for you. The kind that comes when you've hated someone for so long that you're not even mad anymore. Ice-cold hate." The gryphon began to circle the clearing with measured steps, slowly prowling around to the shivering, yellow mare. "Years ago, the Gryphon Kingdom was about to go under. Our land had been destroyed, and our food stores were running low. A freak attack of plagues, storms, and fires had left us with no food and no options. We were on our last legs, and our only choice was to beg Equestria for aid."

Gilda stared at her talon as she curled it into a fist. "So we did. A fearsome nation of carnivores swallowed their dignity, bowed down, and asked a country of weak, quivering prey for help, pledging their mighty support in return for a measly amount of food."

The pegasus tried to stop her own incessant trembling in the face of danger. "W-what happened?"

"What do you think?" Gilda shot her a look of pure disgust. "We were totally ignored."

That had to have been a lie, Fluttershy was sure of it.
She stood a little straighter as her confidence began to return. "The princess would nev—"

"Your princess? Hah! Our messenger came back with an unopened scroll. The treaty between our nations was turned away at the door. Our request wasn't even worthy of your precious little princess's time. That … that was so humiliating!" the gryphon roared. "There were riots in the streets, calling for pony blood! If it weren't for the power of your little ruler, we would have crushed you! The arrogance! We offered you our trust, and you spat upon our pride! It took decades for us to claw back up to a fraction of our former strength, jeered at by our enemies, forgotten by our friends! You ruined us! You ruined my family! You ruined me!"

Spittle flew wildly as the vitriol spewed out of Gilda's open beak.

For a few seconds, an eerie calm fell over the clearing. "Yeah. But with this …" The gryphon delicately brushed the edge of a wing over her crystal feather. "With this, I can bring back the glory of the Gryphon Kingdom." Hard, golden eyes glinted with madness. "Get ready, twerp. I'm starting this revolution now."

A thin, feathered crystal pulsed. Red veins grew, crawling and twisting in the furthest edges of Fluttershy's vision. The beating of the mare's heart seemed to echo off the surrounding trees, but warped and broken. Twisted and hollow.
The air felt thick. She couldn't breathe.

Gilda smiled dangerously. "Time To Open Your Mind."

By clicking up the latch and tugging on the handle, Colgate nudged open the back door.

Yep, the alleyway behind her house looked much the same as ever. A light, silvery mist was curling around the trashcans and loose bricks, a misty vapor yet to burn away in the morning sun. The soft air swirled happily through her mane, carrying the smells of fresh bread and crisp apples.
Mmm, it promised to be a lovely day.

Oh, and there was Princess Luna, looking amazingly bored.

Colgate flashed an uneasy smile at the living legend, before turning to shut the door behind her. After she had wiped away a nervous sweat and tucked away her keys, she looked back, catching a quick glimpse of Luna stifling a yawn. Gosh, had the princess been up the entire night?
No way. That was a bit much. Even royalty needed sleep, didn't they?

She coughed lightly to clear her throat. "P-princess? Are you alright?"

"Ah. I apologize." Luna cracked her spine with a disturbing crunch. "As the princess of the moon, I am unused to early rises. Dawn was never my purview." The legendary mare blinked heavily to clear the sleep from her eyes, then absent-mindedly stomped on a scaly tail protruding from a dumpster. Loud cursing soon followed, doubling when a twin-horned head rang against the closed lid.

Okay. In a valiant effort not to stare at the unnerving duo, Colgate's eyes drifted upwards.

Her jaw quickly dropped. "Woah, i-is that Derpy? No way!" she gasped. Sure enough, the clumsy pegasus was zipping around above them, delivering letters and parcels in record time. It was downright disturbing to see that mare so competent! No offense intended, of course.

Princess Luna raised a regal brow while Discord fluently exercised his talent at profanity. "Is something the matter, citizen?" she asked.

Definitely.

No, Colgate couldn't say that. Retool it a bit. "Uh, maybe? I mean, I think something's wrong with Derpy! Just look at her, she's flying like a pro!" Whoops, that was a bit rude.

The monarch glanced up briefly, then gave her a curious look. "We appear to be lacking vital information. Is that pegasus not a professional mail-mare? She is merely performing her duty." As the alicorn spoke, Discord gingerly clambered out of the dumpster, shooting her a baleful glare.

"Well, yeah, but Derpy is terrible at her job. She breaks stuff all the time," Colgate tried to explain. Aw, but this was still coming off as pretty mean, wasn't it? Gee. Sorry, Derpy.

The taller blue mare didn't notice the rude signs being made behind her back, as she was busy suspiciously staring at Colgate. "Tell me, citizen. Why is it so surprising that this pony has improved?"

Great. How could she say this without sounding offensive? "Uh, I'm not being mean, I promise! Just a second." She gingerly rubbed her neck with a hoof, trying to put her thoughts into words. "Right, so, last week, Derpy broke our window. Then she handed us a package of shattered hourglass bulbs, before breaking our only lamp and another window on her way out. That's pretty much the normal service we get."

Princess Luna finally seemed to understand the issue, shooting the now-talented pegasus a contemplative glance. "Mysterious. However, such an improvement is not terribly strange, and is most likely completely unrelated to your father's disappearance. On that note, searching this area proved inconclusive. We still need more information to accurately formulate a hypothesis. Come, citizen! It is time for a change of tactics! We must question the townsfolk!"

"Sure, I guess," Colgate agreed, falling in step behind her majesty. Thinking they were going to walk at a comfortable pace, she was surprised when the alicorn put on a burst of speed without warning.

Luna shouted over her shoulder. "Do not tarry! Haste is paramount!"

"Y-yes! I'm sorry!" She began to run faster, in a valiant effort to keep up with the hot-headed monarch.

Discord slithered along next to Colgate, seemingly recovered from the unwarranted attack on his tail. He grinned nastily. "Oh, you poor thing. She's a bit forceful, isn't she? Well, don't be too harsh on the little princess. I mean, she might be a bit rash. And irritable, I suppose. And stubborn, yes. But give her a few hundred years, and she'll get past that phase."

The unicorn was almost afraid to ask. But … curiosity, meet cat. "That phase?" she wheezed while galloping as fast as she could.

"Absolutely, my dear. They call it the 'terrible two-hundreds'. Apparently, after a century or two, immortals tend to act like children again. How funny is that? The term's rather infamous among certain crowds. Although, I will admit, that crowd might be mostly dragons. Ponies usually struggle to hit ninety."

Ouch, that was harsh. And also kinda morbidly depressing for pretty much everyone involved. Ninety was a very generous estimate for the average pony.

Still running, Colgate was forced to skid to a halt when Luna spun back around. "Enough! How dare you?" bellowed the livid ruler. "Why must you continue to try my patience?"

"Oh, don't feel so down, princess. It's only an observation. Everypony's young compared to the magnificent me!" Discord posed coquettishly.

The mare ground her teeth in response. "Ludicrous! I can hardly be considered immature, considering I was born last millennium!"

"Are we counting time spent sealed away, now?" The spirit's smile transformed into a smirk. "Bah, I never do that. That would make me feel old. Twelve hundred years of missed birthdays, how awful."

Luna laughed bitterly. "Does a few extra centuries matter? At my birth, I was strong enough to shift the path of the very Earth itself. I hold over two full lifetimes of constant magical experience to my name. I have seen my companions wither and die, and watched their children's children follow! You will know that I am no foal, Discord! My reputation is tarnished enough by my own jealousy and treachery! The truth is my burden! Do not further slander my name!"

The draconequus wiggled a finger in his ear. "My my, what a tantrum. But even for all that, it seems I must repeat myself, Princess." He leant over the taller mare, balancing easily on his muscular, squamous tail. "I. Am. Disorder. There is a reason you are nothing but a foal to me. After all …"

A condescending sneer crossed his features. "Two hundred years is nothing to thirteen thousand."

Blueblood shifted to a more comfortable position on his fabulous throne.

What a day it had been. Nothing had really panned out as expected, but his greatest problems appeared to have been temporarily fixed. The crowds had been dealt with, the media mollified, and even the smallest evidence of wrongdoing had been destroyed. Now he had the time to relax, and deal with the more minor aspects of his dominion.

Somewhat surprisingly, it turned out that the everyday duties of a King were rather humdrum. Dull, even.

Still, Blueblood was obliged to attend to them, and he had the efforts of an extremely competent secretary on his side. The sterling fellow easily took care of all the menial business in a delicate political dance, always maintaining a deferential air, and never overstepping the bounds of his station. Yes, his aide was an excellent worker. For a commoner.

The nondescript stallion coughed dryly to gain his attention, and flipped a page on his notepad. "Ahem. The fifth item of business, your majesty. Ever since the coronation, civil unrest has been reported in all eight districts surrounding the town square."

The King waved a lofty hoof. "Unrest? Bah! Send for the Royal Guard, then. Have them take care of it."

"Unfortunately, it seems most of the Royal Guard have been dispatched on trivial errands, your highness. That seems to have been the normal modus operandi of your predecessors, I'm afraid." The secretary straightened his glasses with a disapproving look.

"Ridiculous! Yet another problem that I am forced to fix. Well, speak up! Tell me where the fools are," Blueblood ordered.

"Of course." Several pages crinkled as they were turned. "Ahem. Records show two accounts of cats stuck in trees, three noise disturbances, a purported 'crime to fashion'. My, my. And it seems quite a few officers were sent to deal with a missing-pony report, as detailed by the prominent Mr. Pants."

Now that was amusing. The King chuckled loudly at the very idea. "Oh? How droll. Who was the fool that managed to escape him?"

"A young mare by the name of Apple, apparently. She and a Ms. Dash have both been declared missing, but the report emphasizes finding Ms. Apple, due to a possible case of magically-inflicted derangement. When found, both ponies are to be returned to a Ms. Belle, care of Mr. Pants," the stallion read out loud. He was about to continue, until Blueblood stopped him with a quick gesture.

That name …

It couldn't be. It couldn't be her. "Belle? Rarity Belle?" he whispered.

His secretary blinked slowly, glancing down at his report. "It would appear so, milord."

"Indeed. Rarity Belle." The syllables of her name rolled off his tongue with all the speed of chilled honey. He smiled a terrible smile. "Interesting. Very well, then. Alter the return order for miss Apple. Instead of escorting her to Mr. Pants, she is to be remanded to the palace's most secure suite. We can't have a mentally-unbalanced pony trotting around amongst the civilians, now can we?"

The other pony scribbled down the instructions, nodding. "As you wish, your majesty."

"But we should keep the three compatriots together, yes? Let us be kind. Extend the Royal Guard's arrests to Ms. Dash …" Blueblood's cold smirk widened. "And Rarity Belle."

Clouds sure looked comfortable.

Now, Applejack had only been to Cloudsdale once, but hoo-boy! It had felt like she was walking on beaten egg-whites the entire time! Not quite as sticky, granted. Or messy.

Anyway, she had enjoyed her time up there immensely. And if you ignored the near-death experience that Rarity had, the trip had been absolute barrels of fun for everypony! Mostly because of the clouds. Like big, squishy trampolines, clouds were. No wonder that Discord fellow seemed to like them for hammocks! He looked like he'd been around for a while, irritating pest that he was. Heck, Dash was always taking naps in the darn things, wasn't she? If anyone was an expert on skiving off, it was that mare. Yup.

Speaking of her good pal, that was why Applejack was carefully combing the skies. She was Rainbow-hunting!
The mare, that is, not real rainbows.

But Rainbow was real, too. So maybe, real as in … the rainbows that were really illusions. She wasn't looking for the rainbows that weren't the ones that weren't … fake?

Look, she was trying to find Dash, okay?
Don't complicate things.

The farm-pony had a foolproof plan, of course. Her brilliant reasoning was that firstly, a certain blue pegasus liked naps, and secondly, clouds were prime nap-worthy locations. That meant her best chance at finding her multi-colored friend was to look for clouds. Maybe she'd holler at some suspicious ones, see what pops up out of them.

Uh, yeah. That was basically Applejack's entire plan. Short and sweet, though! Don't need no funny tactics or confusing strategies here, thank you very much!

Then again, it was a bit dull, staring up all the time. Urgh, she was getting a crick in her neck, too. Ouch.
Maybe she should take a quick break.

Wahah! Look up there!

Ah … nope. That wasn't Rainbow. Green mane on a white coat. Not even close, you blind bat.

Come on, then.
Better get a move on, young miss Apple. There's always more sky to see, right? One hoof then the other.

What was she thinking about? Clouds, that's right.

You know, it actually made Applejack a little sore that pegasi got the comfiest beds of all. It wasn't like they did more work than the earth-ponies or anything. In fact, it was pretty darn close to being the other way around, wasn't it? Did pegasi work their haunches off by tilling soil or bucking trees? No! They didn't! It was like the clouds were shouting: 'Hey, free comfy beds, no work required! What's that? Oh, not you. Sorry, only pegasus ponies allowed! Only them.'

Dumb clouds.

Of course, at least you weren't liable to fall to your death if you fell out of a normal bed. That was a good selling point, Applejack supposed. But on the other hoof, most pegasi seemed to be pretty much immune to falls in the first place.

Well, except for Fluttershy, but that mare forgot she had wings half the time. She'd have made a fine earth-pony. Or unicorn, perhaps.

Hm? Ahah! There was a blue hoof dangling down the side of that far-off tuft of cotton-white fluff! Chances were good this time – that was a textbook Dash pose. Lazy as all get out, too, but that wasn't the problem right now.

Rearing right back, Applejack cupped her forelegs around her mouth. "Hoy, Rainbow!" she bellowed.

In answer to her shout, a red mane popped quickly over the side of the distant cloud, soon followed by the confused-looking head attached to it. Darnit, the coat was the right color, but a red mane? Rainbow had a rainbow mane. That was nice and easy to remember, too. Looked like stupid old Applejack had gotten it wrong again. Keep your chin up, apologize to the nice lady, then skedaddle. Go on.

"Whoah there! Um … shoot! Mah bad! Ah thought y'were somepony else, ma'am!" She doffed her Stetson politely, and made to keep walking.

The crimson-maned, mystery mare cleared her throat, shuffling the good-sized cloud closer with quick bursts of wing-power. "Uh, AJ?"

Hold on a sec. It was just two short words, but right between them had been a very distinctive voice-crack. "The heck?" She turned back to the pegasus, scrutinizing her. "Great boiled sweetsops! Rainbow! It is you! Why'dja go an' dye yer dang mane? Ya tryin' ta blend in, or somethin'? 'Cuz yer doin' a terrible job. Clouds ain't red, y' fruitcake."

Dash tugged at her hair self-consciously. "Oh, uh, that? It's a long story."

A long story? Uhuh. Right. Yeah. Applejack had heard that particular line before.
It told her nothing. Nothing at all.

The earth-pony didn't quite give her friend the stink-eye, but Rainbow seemed to rapidly cave under her completely level stare. "Gah, okay, fine! I admit it, the story isn't really that long. But, er … seriously? I have no clue how this happened. My hair was just like this when I woke up. So, basically, it's totally not my fault. I'm not lying, I swear! Please don't punch me."

"Hm," the farmer hummed in contemplation. Strangely, Dash looked like she wasn't joking. That was a serious face. Applejack wasn't entirely sure what that meant, though, because the story sounded a little nuts. Maybe the truth really was stranger than friction, as they say.

"Although …" The red-maned pegasus tapped her mouth in thought, as if considering whether or not to reveal something. "I did kinda go nuts there for a while. My memory's a little fuzzy about what happened for a good minute or two. MIght've raided a salon or something, dunno."

"Dang, you went crazy as well?" Applejack blurted in shock. "Ah lost the plot mahself, had t'get rescued by Twilight's folks! Jus' plain embarrassin', that was."

"Well, I don't wanna brag," her friend brazenly lied. "But I'm pretty sure my freakout was worse. See, I was thinking I was never gonna be able to fly again, so I started doing this super-creepy, nutso laugh. Then everything totally went black! I must've been heading towards, like, Pinkie-meltdown territory, at least. Minimum."

The farmer scoffed loudly. "Hah! Y'call that insane? Let me tell … oh, hang on." Where was this whole conversation going? Someplace bad. Maybe they should stop while they had the chance.

Dash looked confused at her self-interruption. "Eh?"

"Jus' … hold up a second. Look, Ah like our competitions, Rainbow, but this'uns a battle we shouldn't get into. The first prize'd be a one-way trip t'the loony bin. So let's try'n keep our heads on straight, 'kay?"

A flash of understanding. "Ooh, right. Good point," her blue friend nodded, before jumping in shock as another mane popped over the cloud edge.

This time, it didn't belong to a pegasus she knew. It was an orange mane, attached to the head of a laughing, yellow mare. The stranger finished snickering at the surprise she had given Rainbow, before turning a disconcerting smile down on Applejack.

Okay, then. Yes. This was unexpected.
Who was this supposed to be?
Was it one of Dash's friends? Hmm.

Suddenly, the farm-pony found it hard to look Rainbow straight in the eyes. But the mystery pegasus? That mare wasn't worried at all. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying Applejack's obvious discomfort. Did she know something? Why was she smirking like that?

"Hey there," the yellow pony called, a disturbingly broad grin on her face.

Boy howdy, this was getting awkward fast. What had Rainbow been doing all this time, anyway? No, probably best not to ask. Try to make light conversation, instead. Normal talk.

"Eh, hi?" Applejack forced out. Good start, there. Keep going. "Erm. Uh, y'wanna introduce me t'yer … friend there, Dash?"

Rainbow flushed ultramarine. "R-right! Spitfire, this is Applejack. Applejack, this is Spitf— wait. Wait. Stop right there. What?" The pegasus narrowed her eyes in outrage. "How do you not know who she is?"

"Ah just don't." The farm-pony frostily raised an eyebrow. "An' why does that matter, hm?"

There was a strangled sound from Dash. "She's the captain of the Wonderbolts, that's why! You've met her before! Are you saying you've forgotten? That's crazy! How could you forget?!"

"… Eh? Oh! Sorry, ma'am! Didn't recognize ya without yer suit on. Good t'see ya," Applejack cheerily greeted the older mare. The Wonderbolts! That explained everything. It was all coming back to her now.

"Likewise," Spitfire returned, still aiming a disturbing leer down at the earth-pony.

Rainbow looked dumbfounded. And horrified, for some reason. "W-what! Why are you taking this so calmly? It's Spitfire!" Right, so the farmer wasn't amazed enough, was that it? Pfeh. Like that mattered.

Applejack took the time to roll her eyes before answering. "Dash, Ah ain't the Wonderbolts fanatic here. That'd be you. Most of us think they're swell, sure. Good stuff. Very impressive. But we don't have plush dolls of 'em or anything, y'know?"

"T-that's memorabilia! Collector's items!" Rainbow quickly protested. "It's not like that!"

"Sure it ain't, sugar. Whatever y'say."

Finally reaching the limits of her terrible attempt to keep a straight face, Spitfire burst out in raucous laughter at both of them. "Bwahahaha! You two are a riot!" She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, before giving Dash a powerful noogie. "I underestimated you, kid! You are definitely our number-one fan! Seriously, even the toys? Hahaha!"

"Ah, stoppit! Gerroff! … No. Oh, no. Oh, dammit!" Finally realizing what she had just admitted to, Rainbow covered her blushing face with her hooves. "Dammit, AJ! That was a secret!"

"Heh." Applejack smirked.

Pain.
Agonizing pain.

It lanced in bursts through Fluttershy's mind, spiking through her skull as she struggled to keep her sanity intact. She shielded her thoughts as best she could, but her head hurt so badly that she couldn't even cry out. Moving would only make this torture worse. Physical pain couldn't compare – this was on a completely different scale!

But … ah, never mind. Her suffering didn't matter. Pain was not enough to make her fall.

She could simply never let the gryphon control her. That was it. There was no way that she would ever let Pinkie's last work be in vain.
So she would keep on fighting, keep on striving, even if her own determination killed her.
What else could she do?

A chuckle caused her to open her eyes. "Beg for mercy," Gilda purred in a strangely seductive tone.

Fluttershy flatly refused to listen, but words began to swirl through the pegasus anyway, beating against her weakest, innermost walls. "Open your Mind," they pleaded. "Beg for mercy," they explained. It wasn't just some simple request. Those words, they made her want to surrender herself. And it was so awfully, awfully hard to hold them back! They were too persuasive, curling around her brain, touching her most personal thoughts with tendrils of hateful kindness. They scrawled themselves along her nerves, and told her it would be so easy to just … let go. Allow the gryphon to command her, manipulate her. Control her.

"No!" Fluttershy grunted, compacting her concentration into a tight ball of obstinacy. She knew how to deal with this type of attack. Bottling up her emotions was an old trick. A trick she had practiced for many, many years. It hurt like nothing else, but that blinding pain was useful, making it harder for her agonized mind to be swayed. The strategy had worked against Discord, for a time. She was certain that it would work here.

"What was that?" Gilda growled. "I have given you an Order."

"A-ah!" The pegasus screamed in pain as the searing force redoubled. Her knees weakened.
The world went white.

From far beyond the roiling mists of agony, a darkly malicious voice cackled with unbridled joy. "Yes! Beg! Hahahahahaa!"

"No!" she yelled, her vision swimming back. The air bent light like frosted glass, distant shapes and hues dancing in her tired, watery eyes. "I w-won't! I won't ever beg! Not to you!"

The gryphon snarled in response, baring her claws. "You think you have a chance, Pony?" That ordinary, harmless word 'Pony' had been mangled, spat out harshly like a grievous insult. "You think you're strong, do you? Hahahaa, not even close! I can see how weak you really are. Your constant failures have been with you for so long that your weakness has become another side of you! A part of your very being is designed to lose! I can see it! I can see the blood pouring from the cracks in your mind! You are weak! Weak! I can make you bow! All I have to do is push."

The feather glowed.

Fluttershy fell.

_______________________________________________

A small, yellow filly preened nervously as the busy crowds began to gather.

To tell the truth, it was a bad habit. With each unnecessary tug at her pinions, she risked serious damage. Really, she should stop. It would be better for her.
She knew this, but today of all days, Fluttershy couldn't help herself.

It wasn't every day you started school.

The Flight School in Cloudsdale was famous, and rightly so. It had pumped out the majority of the Wonderbolts from its hallowed, vaporous halls, and boasted a very impressive list of graduates, besides. The top leaders in aeronautics and the best athletes in Equestria, researchers and sports-mares alike, all hailed from this one building. There were many different academies, of course, but none were as popular or expansive as the one looming in front of her. It was a very prestigious school, and a painfully high bar to jump.

Slipping through the throng of hopefuls, Fluttershy took her place in the open square, ducking her head behind her long, pink mane. None of the other students paid attention to her beyond a passing, curious glance. To her, that was a relief.

The young pegasus had never been able to form lasting connections with other ponies. After years of peaceful solitude, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Due to her timidity, Fluttershy had no friends. She never felt the need to talk with children her age, or concerned adults, or even figments of her imagination.
Everypony else had a lot of trouble understanding her, misheard her when she forced herself to speak.
They said she was too quiet. They said she was too shy.

Everypony else was too loud.

A bell rang, and the elderly headmistress doddered out. The mare wasted ten minutes of their time talking about nothing in particular, comparing clouds to youth and storms to progress, or something. Not even the teachers seemed to understand it, judging by the exasperated glances some of the faculty shared. In the end, rather than dismissing the students properly, the ancient pony stopped mid-sentence and abruptly meandered off, much to the staff's embarrassment.

Taking control of the tittering assembly, the Vice-Principal stepped up to the podium. Fluttershy closed her eyes as the dull voices of wisdom washed over her.

_______________________________________________

Barely an hour later, the first practical class was collected in the outer fields. They had been told to line up near the training clouds, waiting their turn to hover across a gap. It was simply floating from a high place to a low place, the teacher had said. Controlled falling. Easy as anything.
For most of them, it wouldn't even be a test.

Fluttershy couldn't help letting out a squeak when a shock of red-green-blue hair popped up in front of her.

"Hi there! I'm Rainbow!" The bundle of colors beamed brightly at her. No, wait, that was a pony! Somepony was actually talking to her! Quick, respond! Open your mouth and say something! Speak!

"I …" Her throat seized up, becoming suddenly dry. "I'm Flu…y" She tried to force out her name anyway, tried to say it as easily as the other filly seemed to.

"Eh? Flu-uay? Haha, that's a funny name!" The strange blue pegasus gave her an exuberant grin. "Anyway, isn't this cool? I've always wanted to fly! I mean, I've tried hovering a little, but not proper flying, you know? It's supposed to be totally different! I'm so excited!"

"Y-yes." With a wan smile, ashamed at her baseless fear, she touched the other pony's proffered wing with her own. "Me too," she whispered.

That filly – no, Rainbow – seemed so sure of herself. The sheer purity of Rainbow's vibrant personality practically irradiated the air around them. Fluttershy couldn't even muster up the courage to break an awkward silence, but she was inwardly glad to have such a confident pony nearby. It made her feel like she could be a little bit braver, even though she knew better than to believe that.

The yellow pegasus' feathers tingled gently in the breeze as the two of them waited their turn. She tucked her wings back against her body before the temperature could dip too much. It was hard to keep warm at high altitudes, sometimes. Shivering, Fluttershy shifted her stance on the softly squishy ground, pushing around the semi-solid tufts of white.

Eventually, a calm tenor voice rang out. "Miss Dash? Miss Dash, it's your turn."

"Hey, that's me! Wish me luck!" Rainbow didn't wait for her to reply, bounding quickly towards the teacher, who nudged her into place on the starting line.

Obviously used to dealing with children, the gentle-looking stallion gave the filly a few more whispered instructions before stepping back slowly, ready to catch her if the worst happened. Rainbow Dash fluffed out her wings.

Then Fluttershy became confused.

Anyone who has ever seen a pony in flight knows that an adult pegasus must use magic to fly. Being aerodynamic is naturally complicated when you have four great big hooves, a huge skull to support a giant brain, and relatively small wings to lift it all. Equine flight can't just be simplified to magic alone, but magic is certainly involved.

Then there are fillies. Even compared to a mature pony, the idea of a filly flying on physical strength alone is absurd. There's no way those tiny wings have enough strength to lift anypony up in the air. Fluttershy knew that from experience. Hovering is barely possible, given a run-up and a very generous trickle of power.

Rainbow … Rainbow didn't need a run-up.

The very first time Dash flapped her cerulean wings, she shot straight upwards like a cork, before suddenly hurtling forwards at a staggering speed, easily clearing the assigned distance. She went so far, so fast, that she overshot the target cloud completely, despite the mountains of padding put in place. There wasn't a closed jaw in the group. Sure, Rainbow had to be rescued, but the teacher looked very impressed when he brought her back up. A new record for the whole year, he laughed. Smiles all-round. A prodigy.

Once released from the captivity of the adoring crowds, the other filly raced back over to her, the wind tugging lightly at that red-green-blue-yellow mane. "Hey, I passed! I passed! Didja see that?"

"Y-yes! It was very impressive!" Fluttershy told her, honestly glad for the fearless pony.

Rainbow Dash's voice was utterly carefree as she laughed. "Haha, thanks! I bet you'll do well too!"

_______________________________________________

Then it was her turn.

She stood next to the gap in the clouds, her teeth chattering in anxiety. The teacher's words of advice rang in her ears. Behind her, the crowd of students talked loudly amongst themselves, all the conversation of the surrounding ponies focused mainly on her.

Fluttershy gulped, tried to ignore everything else, and stepped back the recommended distance.

The pegasus had practiced this a lot on her own. She knew she could do it. Crossing this gap was more about building up her nerve than anything.
Just go, she chided herself. Everything would be fine, she promised.
Nothing would go wrong.

So she ran.

When Fluttershy ran, she ran fast. Her form was picture-perfect.
She spread out her feathers.

And she cracked her eyes open to the oncoming ground. Her wings tore upwards, bent back at the joint, as she lost all the strength she ever had.

It was her worst fears, come to life.
Fluttershy screamed and screamed as the earth rushed up to meet her. Her voice scraped hoarse, and her throat scratched raw.
She couldn't breathe.

The wind clawed at her eyes as she fell forever. Two strong hooves wrapped around her, and everything went black.

_______________________________________________

Slowly, the world shimmered back into haze. She could hear voices.

"…ible mild trauma. The patient might have a fear of heigh…"

Oh.
Fluttershy understood, now.

Worthless, she calmly thought to herself, as if she had discovered the answer to a great secret.

She was worthless.
That explained everything.

Darkness returned.

_______________________________________________

"…an happen sometimes. Usually they have unicorn or earth-pony gen…"

No.
Just worthless.

_______________________________________________

"…uition is paid for this semester. But in a few months, the board will review the next appli…"

Worthless.

_______________________________________________

A pegasus that failed at flying.

They told her there were options. There were programs for ponies like her. Fluttershy could work as a teacher, or as a weather researcher. The ponies that took desk-jobs often had her … problems. It wasn't an unknown condition. They said she simply had to stay away from dangerous areas, look out for what would be fatal drops for somepony like her. She couldn't stay at the best school in Cloudsdale, of course, but there were places for her to go. It wasn't the end of the world.

For a very short while, her normal classes would continue. Then, in a few weeks, she would pack her bags and leave.

She would go to a different, smaller, building. In a different, smaller, district, she would meet new, real friends, ones who would value her for who she was. She would find her special talent, one that didn't depend on flying. As a pegasus with a different focus, she would begin a new, fulfilling career path, in a profession where she wasn't likely to get hurt.
Yes, that would have been nice.

It was such a pity everyone was lying.

Even if her idea of happiness was nothing but a hopeless dream, Fluttershy wanted to be comforted! Just once, she wanted to be lulled into a false sense of security and mindless belonging! She wanted to believe their false promises, she really did! But no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, no matter how much she turned away, there was always something awful behind the pity in those eyes.

Worthless.

Useless.

It must run in the f—

_______________________________________________

She was back.

A cloying layer of dirt coated her face, wet from tears she didn't remember shedding. The tears were still coming, even now. Her sadness just kept pouring out, like she had been constantly weeping for years and didn't know how to stop.

And she was exhausted. Her own body's strange, uncontrollable reactions had sucked all the energy out of her. The pegasus coughed weakly, and wiped her mouth clear of mud.
She raised her head to look at the gryphon in front of her.

Gilda viciously shoved her nose back down into the soil, grinning broadly, savagely, once again. "Hah! You snap so easily. A tiny little tweak, and you're crying on the floor? No, we've come to the end of our little match, Pony. I think it's about time to finish this."

Fluttershy sobbed harder into the damp earth beneath her, scrabbling frantically at the crushing weight on her skull. She couldn't win. She couldn't breathe.

The gryphon smiled mockingly at her, and teasingly released the pressure on the pegasus' head, bending down to look her in the eye. Impossibly-sharp talons slowly reached out towards her, delicate in their lethality. "Aw, don't worry. I'm sure this won't hurt a bit."

This was it. The end.
She was about to die.

And she still couldn't breathe!

As Gilda stretched those deadly claws around her throat and began to slowly squeeze, the gryphon shifted down ever-so-slightly. The crazed murderer didn't bend her knees that much, barely moving half a stride closer to the ground as she hoisted Fluttershy into the air.

But it was enough.

The earth bubbled and churned between them. A hairy, bulky, wonderful claw burst up from underground, grabbing the Element that was finally, finally within arm's-reach.

Claws slid around the gold and tugged at the jewelry, snapping it off easily. With a flick of that powerful wrist, the necklace was flying at Fluttershy, the entire thing sticking and connecting and spinning to a rest around her collar, knocking the pony away out of the gryphon's grasp. There was a tremble, and a thump, and the crystal swelled out smoothly into the rough shape of a heart, settling to rest right above Fluttershy's own.

She took in a single, glorious breath.

Talons still outstretched, Gilda simply twitched.

When the gryphon eventually realized just what had happened, she screeched in horrified shock. Flaring her wings out, Gilda backpedaled quickly, spitting and cursing in an unfathomable, incandescent rage. The tables had turned faster than anyone could ever have reacted.

The plan … had actually worked.

Twilight's risky, last-ditch strategy had given them just enough edge to win against an opponent who could control minds.
Despite the terrible losses they had suffered, the ponies had won. They had won.

Wheezing, Fluttershy forced her legs to straighten, forced her weakened body to stand. "Gilda. I understand your pain. I understand what it's like to lose pride in yourself, in your family. I understand." Tears threatened to escape her eyes as the little yellow pegasus spoke with the greatest passion she had ever known. "But you chose the worst way to deal with it! You wanted to hurt others to make up for it! You wanted to lash out at pon— … no, at people who never hurt you! It's wrong!"

"I wanted justice, you fool!" the gryphon bellowed, foam collecting in the corners of her beak. "Justice!"

Shaking her head, Fluttershy closed her eyes and lowered her voice. She spoke calmly and quietly, as if to a child. "No. What you wanted was not justice. You wanted revenge."

"It is both!" There was an insane scream from the half-bird. "Making you ponies suffer is all the justice I need!"

She started to walk. As the small pegasus began to pace forward, each step of hers matched one of Gilda's stumbling, wild-eyed retreat. "You still don't understand. But even if I can fix nothing else, I will make you see what you have done. I will make you feel the pain you have caused."

The murderer chuckled grimly. "You fool! You think you can change me? I know who I am, Pony!" Her species was hurled out again, a blind insult that missed the mark. "Nothing will change that! I have my pride! I have my duty!"

"Gilda. More than anything else you've said, that … is a lie." Fluttershy slowly raised her head, maintaining her grim tone, her smooth walking speed. "Remember when we met? You insulted us, calling us names. That was not because you were proud! It was because you were angry! For years, you have hated us, and hated our country. That was not out of duty! It was because you were sad! And I understand that anger. I understand that sadness. Those emotions, I can allow myself to forgive." Closing her eyes with a sorrowful expression, the pegasus paused for several seconds and listened to the frantic breathing of her opponent.

"… You'll neve—"

Without warning, Fluttershy snapped her eyes open, and even the maddened gryphon flinched at her absolutely furious glare. "But then you hurt my friends."

Her Element shone, the heart on her collar beating with limitless fury. A blaze of pink magic twirled and spun in the jewel, pulsing with the thick, dense rhythm of life. She felt her hooves lift off the ground, and her vision became a sea of blood-stained white.

"Sorry," Fluttershy whispered, before her soft voice was drowned out by the relentless sound of flesh and drums. "This might sting a little."

The light made them perfectly blind.

"Hey! Apple Bloom! Are you in there?"

The door to the barn creaked ever-so-slightly open, a thin shaft of brightness pouring into the musty shadows.

A grimy filly's eyes watered as light lanced into her retinas. She squinted and fumbled around, eventually shading her eyes with the wrench she had tied to one hoof. Dagnabbit! That glare kinda hurt! Was that a lantern? A laser? Directed thermal emission from some sort of chemical reaction, perhaps? Or … wait, was it daytime?

Oh, boy. If it was morning, that meant Apple Bloom had been up all night. Big Mac was gonna be mad. Aw, but it wasn't her fault! She couldn't help it that her work was just so gosh-darned interesting! Dirty, too. That was a plus.

There was a muffled whisper from the doorway. "I don't think she's here either, Scoots. We should try the cellar."

Gah, stop thinking, Apple Bloom! Stop! Just try and get your priorities straight, you're being a dunderhead. "W-wait! Ah'm in here, guys!" she finally hollered back, tugging her hoof-fitted wrench off onto the metallic carcass of a half-finished steam engine. At her belated shout, her friends popped their heads through the open door, looking mightily relieved.

"Apple Bloom!" Sweetie Belle gave her a joyous smile. "We were looking for you everywhere! But, uh, what are you doing in here with the lights off? I didn't wanna go in. I thought there might be zombies!"

Scootaloo shouldered her way into the barn, squeezing past the other filly in her rush. "Come on, Sweetie! Never mind that. Look, Apple Bloom! Check out what happened last … woah!" The tiny pegasus' jaw dropped as the heavy door swung fully open, illuminating the interior of the barn.

Light glinted off a dazzling array of shiny metal, sparsely decorated by arcane works of high technology. Various appliances were welded together in what seemed to be no recognizable pattern. Each machine was different; sparking and glowing, spinning continuously, or clattering around according to unpredictable mechanical logic. Scootaloo seemed rooted in place by shock, but Sweetie's eyes virtually doubled in size. The unicorn filly ran around to look at the various robots. "Oh, wow! What is this?"

"Huh? You mean this whatsit?" Apple Bloom turned back to the machine she had been working on. "Well, this's a kinda Weakly-Int'racting Magical Particle Isolator, a'course. Ah just needed to measure some stuff about th' universe. Th' dumb heap a'junk didn't tell me nothin', though. Or, at least, nothin' Ah didn't already know. Waste a'space, this was. Not like th' coffee machine. No sir, that thing's still darn good."

Sweetie Belle scrunched up her face, her wonder soon lost in a mire of confusion. "Whaa?"

"Relax. It's probably just some boring farm-thingy. Anyway, check out my wings! I can fly now!" Scootaloo demonstrated her claim by leaping up, and climbing the air for a good ten seconds. She crashed into a table soon after, but the point had been made in style.

"Great horn-swoggling flapjacks! That's amazing, Scoots! Since when can ya do that?" Apple Bloom was genuinely surprised. That sure was a heckuva lot of improvement. From practically nothing just yesterday, to actual flight today?
That's crazy!

Wobbling a little, the pegasus shook off both her splinters and her impact, nodding happily. "I got a funny feeling last night, and when I woke up, I could totally fly! This is the best day ever!"

Aw, heck. If anyone deserved a break like that, it was Scootaloo. "Ah knew y'd grow into yer wings someday, Scoots. Y'all just needed a little time, that's all."

Less time than everypony thought, apparently.
Not that that was a bad thing! Just … unexpected. Yep.

"I guess so, huh? Anyway, the best part is, now I can ask Rainbow Dash to give me flying lessons! That'll be so awesome!" the orange filly squealed at the thought.

Oh, sure. That would be what Scootaloo was excited about. The girl was obsessed.

Apple Bloom giggled, but her laughter trailed off at the thought of obsessions. Obsessions, like … "Hey, that's right! Sweetie, Ah found a necklace las' night. Can y'help me figure out what it is? Ah tried mah best, but nothin' helped. Not even my whatsit, here." She gave the object in question a kick, prompting a few bolts to ping out of their sockets. The fizzy-bit fizzed in protest. Wait, seriously, 'fizzy-bit'? Ergh, she needed to come up with some better names. Fancy ones, to make her feel more science-y.

"A necklace? Sure, Rarity talks about them all the time! I'd be glad to help!" The unicorn chirped.

"Great!" Apple Bloom trotted over to the table, and cleared off some of the junk. A twinkle of blue revealed itself. "Found it! Now, be careful, it can j— Guhah! Ow!" The young mechanic jumped when the stone sparked, scorching her for the umpteenth time.

Sweetie shrieked, stumbling backwards into a pile of sheet-metal. "What was that? Was that lightning?"

"Criminey's sake! Gnh. Dumb thing. Ah don't think it likes me," the earth-pony mumbled, sucking on her burned hoof. Aw, hay. If that kept up, she was going to have a big old stain there. Carbonized keratin, yuck. Though … at least that stuff was replaceable through normal bodily processes. What if she lost an entire hoof to a really big zap? Woah, that'd be terrible. She'd have to look into making decent mechanical replacements, or something. Maybe some bodily protection would be a good idea? Would a magnetorheological composit—

"Um, Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo snapped her out of her trance by prodding her shoulder.

Priorities, darnit. Tuned out there for a second. "Ayup?" she replied, smiling at her friend.

"Why is your tail twitching?"

Huh. Good question. Sure enough, there was her wayward limb, dancing around like a shaved badger. The darn thing was doing a pretty good two-step for something without legs of its own. "Ah dunno. Mah tail's never done that before."

Could it be due to the electrical stimulation of nervous tissue? Well, that wasn't good. At high levels of current, she risked getting nervous or muscular damage. Mental note: see Nurse Redheart later. Make up some excuse about being hit by a stray bolt of lightning. That happened often enough to careless pegasi for her story to be believable.

Still, her tail seemed mostly okay. It didn't hurt, or twinge, or itch madly. Maybe Apple Bloom just had a cramp?
Wouldn't be the first time.

Happy with that conclusion, she shrugged. "It's prob'ly nothin'."

Then her latest useless machine made an ominous crunching noise. Metal buckled and rivets groaned, putting crushingly heavy weight on parts she knew were never meant to support loads. The glowy-bit went dark and the twirly-bit began to spin backwards, snapping all the delicate internal springs.

Frozen in terror, the three friends looked up at the enormous, looming construct. The tower of machinery slowly rumbled and began to tip over, headed straight for the fillies.

"Aw, fiddlesticks," Apple Bloom muttered.

Her tail twitched just before something was about to fall? Yeah, the little yellow pony knew what that meant. It looked like she had developed a mighty awesome Apple-sense, and now she didn't even get to try it out. Just her luck, that was.

She couldn't stop a small pout from crossing her face. Shucks, how disappointing. What a way to go.

A resounding crunch echoed through the barn.

Rose stared at a rose.

The bright flower might have looked innocent to most, but that simplistic façade was nothing but a conniving ruse. No delicate petals were going to get it out of trouble – the rose knew what it had done.

Or, rather, what it had not.

She raised her head, looking over the entire garden-bed with a critical eye. She had to be harsher on herself. The flower show was in three months, and it was no easy task to win these days. The competition was getting rough. Last time, Daisy had very nearly taken the gold with a strange, green arrangement. Green daisies! The judges had been very impressed, and actually awarded extra points for style. Rose had still scraped through to first place on a traditional bouquet, but she knew that it was experience alone keeping her afloat these days. That wouldn't last forever. She needed to innovate, to get ahead of the crowd!

And yet … her Snow-roses looked awfully pink. Not very blue at all. Her latest attempt was a failure as well.

Letting out a despairing sigh, she settled her watering can on a nondescript garden statue, and began to look for her trowel. She'd have to start all over again. Maybe she should try for purple, first? A midway point might be easier to aim for. Filly steps.

Her solemn floral contemplation was interrupted by a sudden, shocking crunching noise and a lingering moan. She froze, terrified. What … was that? Was it some sort of horrible monstrosity, come back from the grave to eat her alive? Her hackles rose up, uncontrollably, as she jerkily swiveled her head to see. The muffled grunts were coming from a carved statue of a stallion, one that was standing right beside her.

Oh, dear Celestia! The statue was alive! As she watched in mute horror, the heavy stone around the creature's jaw cracked, a gaping maw opening. The rough facsimile of a pony sucked in a raspy, grating breath, rattling the pink container she had unwittingly placed on its back.

Then the creature sneezed. "Well! That was certainly rude!" it said. Then it sneezed again, dislodging clouds of noxious white dust.

Her watering can finally tumbled off the sculpture as thin sheets of plaster and rock tore away, helped along by the awkward, fussy movements of the pony trapped inside. Rose felt the blood drain from her face as the chiseled stone came to life before her eyes. While the stallion was moderately handsome, her first response was not admiration. No, it was sheer terror.

He was an earth-pony. How had he survived being covered in stone?

Wiping his face, the stranger let out a disapproving tut. "Yes, even at the very least, it was a serious overreaction on their part." He began to shake the chalky powder out of his light brown coat, showering wads of plaster all over her flowers. "After all, there's no need to resort to indefinite incarceration at the drop of a proverbial hat! Or at the drop of a regular one, I suppose. The type of hat is rather immaterial if the thing's just going to be dropped. Waste of a hat, that. Hmm, an imaginary one would be cheaper, I suppose. Save money on good headwear. My goodness, imaginary hats? What am I talking about? Am I treating those as tangible objects, now? I must be feeling quite out of sorts. Unless we were talking about bowler hats! Oh, I'd believe those were imaginary. Look ridiculous, they do. Give me a good fez any day."

Rose let out a rather embarrassing squeak at the torrent of nonsense, clapping a hoof over her mouth immediately after.

His expression flashing darkly, the stallion snapped his head around at a frightening speed, only for him to stop and smile cheerfully as he saw her. "Ah! Hello, Rose! Good morning!" he called.

What? Had they met? There was no way.

"W-who … who are you?" she stuttered. Wait, the creepy guy knew her name? Maybe he was a stalker! Hey, this was getting bad! Should she scream? Why hadn't she screamed already? She was good at screaming!

The stranger blinked guilelessly. "Who am I? Are you feeling alright, Rose? Oh, no, I see! It's finally our introduction time! I've been waiting for this. Ahem. Hello. I'm the Doctor." He grinned expectantly, as if waiting for a question, only pausing to cough lightly on the traveling plumes of dust. When no question came, he shrugged, and began to ruffle his dark-brown mane. "Don't worry, I'm only passing through, no cause for alarm at all."

"Just passing through?" A scary thought hit her. "Wait, how long have you been in there?" That statue had been here when her mother had bought the house. But her mama had done that thirty-four years ago! There was no way he'd been in there that long.

"Oh, centuries," he waved a hoof nonchalantly, before hesitating. "Weeell, more like seconds for me. Had to hold my breath. I mean, it took a seriously long time for the spell on that statue to erode, and those cunning blighters temporally locked the stone around me to a second-per-second timeframe. Rather clever of them, though I wish they had pointed those clevers in a safer direction. Away from me would have been nice. Maybe locked in a box. Yes. Boxes are lovely. Still, if wishes were wings, then … erm, I'd have rather too many wings to fly, to be honest. That's the problem with a body of finite surface-area, you know? Anything above six wings just gets messy, and I've had a lot of wishes over the years. And under them! Wishes and wings all over, I'd look like a dandelion! How silly would that be? Well, never mind, that analogy certainly got away from me. Slippery little rascals, analogies, never trust them if you can help it. Metaphors are much better! Not nearly as pretentious, or boring at dinner parties. Easier to hold, too, with that great big M out the front. You can always sink your teeth into an M. So, then! What were we talking about?"

This stallion was totally insane.

She had resorted to gaping, so it took time for her brain to restart. "I uh, what? I … don't know?"

The Doctor grinned happily at her, white streaks still smeared across his face. "Excellent! Always better not to know, isn't it? Ignorance is bliss, all that rot. Simply loads of reasons to not know things, but everyone always wants more knowledge, more facts. No, let me tell you, it's entirely overrated! Take it from me. Or rather, don't! Hahahaha! Oh, speaking of secrets, could you direct me to the nearest dark, secluded alleyway? I think it's about time I go back, arrange for the care-taking of my past-future self. Also, you know, save the world a tad. I mean, I must have been going to be successful at some point in the future of my past, but I shouldn't delay my own inevitable victory! It's impolite. Never put off 'til tomorrow what you can get done yesterday, hm? Though it's not as if scheduling really matters for the type of traveling I mean to do! Hah! Still, that's all rather hush-hush, isn't it? You should probably forget I mentioned that. Well, not literally, forgetting things is quite hard for most ponies to do. Intentionally, at least. Some chaps can't remember what they had for breakfast, can they? Blimey, breakfast sounds wonderful right now. Might go for a snack first. Er, anyway, I appreciate the amount of discretion you'll feel like applying to the subject. Of my mysterious time-related activities, not breakfast. Breakfast is fine. You can talk about breakfast. So, that alleyway?"

Okay then. Rose felt like speaking would be asking a lot of her at the moment, so she motioned mutely to her left.

"Capital!" The Doctor laughed. "I'll probably not see you again, but you're welcome to introduce yourself the next time we meet. Not that you need my permission. You'll make a very good second/first impression, if I might add. Very gung-ho. Tad bit stupefied in this one, but I get that a lot, completely understandable. I'm very strange, you see. Not normal at all. Jolly good, then! All accounts sorted, and all sorts accounted for! Onwards!" The powdery pony trotted straight past her, presumably finding the clearly-visible alley next to her house.

It was visible from her garden.

Heck, there was even a signpost, clearly displaying the name 'White Snow Alley' to anypony curious enough to look. Why the stallion had needed directions to the stupid place was completely beyond her. Perhaps … she should go and get the ponies in the special coats? Oh, good plan, Rose. What would she tell them, a story about a statue that came alive and trampled her flowers? No, better not get them involved. She wasn't sure which of them would be committed.

A squirting sound echoed out from the side-street. "Pfagh! Breath freshener?" the Doctor yelped. "That's not right. Didn't even know I had that. Might be useful later, I suppose. Must remember how to do that. Ah! Yes, got it! Anti-clockwise, Whooves. Anti-clockwise. That should be obvious."

Odd, flashing lights shone over the wall of the alley-way, making the clouds shimmer like one of DJ Pon3's rave parties. A grinding, screeching noise echoed along the street. "Here we go, then!" the mad, brown pony shouted. "Allons-y!" His cry was quickly followed by a strangely distant laugh that made chills dance down Rose's bones.

On a normal day, she would have fainted by now. But her body insisted on remaining unnervingly calm, even as the eerie, echoing 'vworp-vworp' noise faded into nonexistence.

Instead of panicking, she sat down, staring at her trampled, plaster-covered roses.

In barely a minute's work, a large portion of her garden had been utterly destroyed. None of it was salvageable. So, for Pete's sake, why wasn't she angry? Her planned selection was ruined by a rude stranger. She should be absolutely livid.

But strangely, all Rose could think about was how good her flowers looked in white.

Somepony knocked at the door. It was a sharp rap against the paneled wood, but heavy enough to make the lintel tremble.

Rarity blinked, and swiveled her head. Well. Now that she bothered to look, it seemed there was a group of heavy-set ponies standing in the hallway. There weren't enough gemstones in the vicinity for her to perceive details, but they looked rather official to her. Hmm. Whatever could this be about?

Taking a final sip of tea, Fancy placed his teacup onto the table with perfect precision, turning to Jeeves with a smile on his face. "Would you mind, old friend?" his rich voice murmured, voice partially absorbed by the satin curtains. "It seems we have some guests. Let us be accommodating hosts, and allow them to enter, shall we?"

"Certainly, sir." The old pony easily straightened up from his ready position, and swept over to the door, opening it with a flourishing bow.

Newly-lit by the crystals in the chandelier, an armored, winged stallion was standing in the doorway. His frame was almost large enough to completely block the entrance. Saluting, the stoic soldier removed his helmet, revealing a solemn expression on his face.

"Greetings." He coughed in a rather grim manner, and looked directly at her. "I am Stonehoof, the acting Captain of the Royal Guard. Are you Miss Rarity Belle?"

Was he talking to her? Oh! Despite her confusion, the seamstress felt she should be polite to the burly guardspony. "Ah, well, yes, I suppose I am. Pleased to meet you. Can I help you with something, darling?" She would have fluttered her eyelashes, but the blindfold made that rather hard to do. Curses.

"Indeed, is something the matter, Guard Captain?" Fancy asked. Rarity idly wondered why he appeared somewhat concerned.

Instead of answering, Stonehoof began to fiddle with the brim of his helmet, not quite looking either of the unicorns in the eye. Or the blindfold, she supposed. "Miss … Belle," he began haltingly, as if reading from a script. "Since you are a national hero, the crown has offered you a place in the secure palace suites for the foreseeable future. My men and I have been sent here to escort you. Would you care to come with us?"

Goodness, that stallion seemed to be terribly interested in the carpeting. The weave was nice, certainly, but there was no reason to keep staring at it like that.

"Miss Belle?" the nervous pegasus prompted.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Dear me. I'm terribly sorry, but Mr. Pants has already gallantly offered me a place to stay. It would be most rude of me to leave without warning, especially after accepting his generous offer. Perhaps another time?"

Rarity saw the corner of Fancy's mouth lift slightly, and she knew she had made the right decision. She simply couldn't refuse his princely beneficence like that.

As she finished her rambling apology, the soldier's jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes. "I apologize, ma'am, but my orders were to take you into immediate protective custody. As such, I am obliged to repeat myself. Are you certain of your decision to stay?"

How odd this pony was. Lovely wings and rather striking looks, but his manner suggested a guilty conscience. Strange. Had they met?

Never mind. Rarity stood by her completely unbiased choice. "Yes," she replied. "I cannot in good faith accept your offer, Guard Captain. As far as I can tell, I am in no danger, and a secure suite is certainly not necessary. Surely there must be others in greater need?"

"I … I see." Stonehoof replaced his helmet, obscuring his features. Four more guards stepped into the room. "Then our secondary orders come into play. Upon refusal of our offer, we have been authorized to arrest you for your own protection."

A-arrest? Arrest her? Oh, this was simply dreadful! What would her parents think? And on such flimsy grounds, too! Outrageous!

As she stumbled back, the soldiers marched forwards, clasping her hooves in irons and shackling her horn with a heavy gold band. The telekinetic field around her teacup snapped off without warning, sending the fine white china to the floor. Not only to arrest her, but to even waste the tea? There were no words! Criminals!

"I … well, I never!" she huffed in absolute indignation. "This is … this is no way to treat a lady! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

Some of the soldiers glanced away guiltily. They were obviously not used to arresting innocent ponies. 'Good!' she fumed silently to herself in righteous anger.
It served them right! What utter scoundrels. The sheer nerve! Who on earth would orchestrate this sort of farce?
Ooh, if she ever found out, she would give them such a talking-to! Just watch her!

"Guard Captain! What is the meaning of this?" Fancy shouted, bristling in rage as he jumped to his feet.

The pegasus officer held his ground. "I apologize, Mister Pants. Know that young Miss Belle will come to no harm as long as she is under my care. I am bound to follow my orders, and in this particular case, the chain of command does not end with me."

"The ch— … oh. It has come to this?" Her kindly benefactor muttered, suddenly subdued. Er, was the statement really that surprising? It wasn't exactly news.

Stonehoof nodded curtly. "Yes. The fourth link rattles, and the three are silent."

"I understand. Then this is truly serious." Fancy turned to her, his tone apologetic. "Rarity, my dear, there appear to be political escapades afoot. While I am uncomfortable with leaving you alone, I fear I have no choice. We have little time, and I must make my way to Parliament, to play the oldest game we ponies know. My influence in the government will be of far more use to you than my companionship. But do not be afraid! These stallions will surely protect you. Whatever is going on will be stopped, I assure you."

Rarity felt faint. "You would leave me with these ruffians? Mr. Pants!" she cried.

"Calm yourself, my dear." He brushed a lock of her mane away from her face. "This deplorable situation is not the fault of these gentlecolts. They are merely carrying out their duty, and it is that duty I mean to change. Stonehoof, I have your word she will be safe?" Fancy queried.

The pegasus clapped a hoof to his chest. "On my life and honor."

"Then I will place my trust in you. I leave at once. Jeeves! Call a chariot!" The dashing pony walked briskly out the door, no doubt once again acting in her best interests. He was so composed! So confident! What a stallion that unicorn was!

Down, girl.

For now, Rarity had to resign herself to a long period of pleasurable inactivity. Languishing in protective custody seemed to be her fate, as of late. Yes. Oh well. How sad. Better get used to it. Ooh, and she wondered if the caretakers had those little grapes of all the colors of the rainbow? Those were delicious.

Er, she meant … woe was her. How terrible.

"But my goodness, what a disaster!" The fashionista sighed, testing out the length of the manacles around her hooves. "I do wish you had told me about your secondary orders, Captain. I feel the threat of incarceration would surely have swayed my decision somewhat. Still, no matter my objections, it seems I have little choice in this matter, no? I am in your care, Captain Stonehoof."

"Thank you. If you'll pardon me, there are a few procedures I must follow." The stallion raised his voice obnoxiously. "Lo! Let it be known that Miss Belle did not resist apprehension! Therefore, in accordance with royal decree, she is hereby placed under arrest! Our duty to the crown has been fulfilled! All hail the King!"

Ah?

Great Scott, the King! Good gracious, she had completely forgotten! After her teensy-tiny mental breakdown on the balcony, Rarity had become engrossed in a wonderfully distracting conversation with Fancy, and the thought had completely slipped her mind. Lost amid the comforting swirl of tea, biscuits, and the most eligible bachelor in town.

That's right. Blueblood was the King, now. And the King had specifically ordered his soldiers to capture her?

Oh dear.
This may all turn out rather poorly.

Sleeping like a baby.

Gilda didn't look nearly so fearsome when she was snoring. For once, the gryphon looked relaxed.
It didn't suit her at all.

Fluttershy hiccuped. She hadn't cried yet, even though she wanted to. The pain was still too fresh.

Everything … everything seemed so pointless compared to what they had lost! It was a worthless victory of the worst kind. The prize might be theirs, but they had not won the fight. This was not a day for celebration.

Back near the cave, a pink mane was draped over a lone tuft of grass like a funeral veil, the rest of Pinkie hidden by a thick patch of bright-blue flowers.

At the agonizing sight, the pegasus ducked her head away, swallowing heavily. She blinked back the ocean of tears that threatened to emerge. It wasn't fair, she thought. It wasn't fair at all. Why Pinkie? Why not her, instead? Pinkie should have been the one to survive. This wasn't right. It wasn't how things were meant to turn out. For a long, lingering moment, the only thing Fluttershy wanted was to see her friend again. She wanted everything to be like it had been before. Happy times, together with everyone she loved.

But that was impossible now, wasn't it?

As she trembled there, her sadness swelled, multiplying into a surge of wet, miserable intent. Clenching her eyes shut, Fluttershy whimpered to herself, and dreamed of Pinkie. In answer to her unasked plea, her twin hearts began to beat in tandem. A nonsensical phrase rose unbidden to her lips. Her pupils dilated as she stared unblinkingly, unseeingly into nothing. Her mouth opened.

"Silver Screen." Fluttershy felt/thought/heard/said the words aloud, burning them into the air with indomitable strength and unmatched certainty. It was like the phrase had already existed, and she was merely shaping the air around it. She had discovered the words, and they were all that mattered.

Then the buoyant magic vanished, and she fell back to her senses.

W-what was she doing? Instead of grieving properly, she was … blurting out meaningless words? How awful! Treating her friend's death like that was … was disgusting! What terrible behaviour! What was wrong with her? Sometimes she could just be so w—

"Ah?" Fluttershy yelped, as, with a sudden pulse of light, the Element thumped against her chest. A glow rose from the jewel she carried, smashing through the clinging miasma of self-loathing that surrounded her. Mist-like, the trail of throbbing, pink energy swam over to her fallen friend. Spinning impossibly around itself, the glow formed itself into a bubbly landscape, high up in the air.

It was surprisingly sweet.

Hanging in the sky, like a painting on a canvas, were buildings and streets crafted of sugary treats, with dimensions that made her eyes water. It was a living portrait of a massive, confectionary landscape, framed with mountains of ice-cream and great rivers of roiling chocolate. None of it was very solid or clear, and the cardinal directions seemed oddly fluid. But even so, the wispy, translucent image made Fluttershy's chest ache awfully. She didn't understand why the magic had appeared, or what it meant. All she knew was that the picture reminded her of Pinkie so much that it hurt.

Oh, it really hurt! It felt like her heart was bursting with anguish. She had to let it out!
Fluttershy screamed.

As she howled, she felt guilt and loss and rage and love. They hit her all at once, in a confusing jumble of tangled emotions that wrapped around her, pulling her down to the ground. The dam had burst and now she was helpless, adrift in an enormous tide of sadness. Fluttershy couldn't stop it. She wasn't sure she wanted to. This breakdown was well past its due.

So the little yellow pegasus wept there, alone. She knelt in the middle of the beautiful forest glade, sobbing uncontrollably, and saw that the world had never been uglier.

"… Pinkie," she burbled. "I'm so sorry. So sorry. So sorry."
Worthless apologies continued to flow out of her, a selfish plea for forgiveness from a pony that didn't deserve it. Eventually, she stopped speaking, and simply cried. This was something words couldn't fix.

When she had no more tears left, Fluttershy hiccuped again, miserable in a bone-deep way that she had never felt before.

This needed closure. She should go over, to see Pinkie one last time. The heartbroken mare scrubbed her eyes, wiped her nose, and slowly made her way over to the distant shape in the grass.

As she walked, she looked anywhere but at the ground, terrified of what she would find. Her fear choked her, and she desperately searched for anything to distract her from the awful truth. And that was how a twinkling pattern managed to catch Fluttershy's eye. Something was dancing, up above her head, in the magical, floating frame of sugar and sweets.

She slowed to a stop as the hovering projection shook, and the streets began to twist. Candy canes sprung up from the fictional icing that coated the ground, and the first twirling drops of a rain of confetti dusted those cake-strewn roads.

"Urgh," a high-pitched voice groaned loudly from within a patch of flowers. "Y-you … should see the other guy …"

Fluttershy squealed in utter delight. "Pinkie! You're okay!" She rushed over to deliver a bone-breaking hug to her friend, the friend she had seriously thought was dead.

Best friend? Best friend.

The earth-pony grunted in response, eyes bulging at the force of her adrenaline-powered hug. "Oof!" she wheezed. "Watch my … everythings! Ow! Fluttershy, what's wrong?"

"I-I thought you'd …" The yellow pegasus squeezed her eyes shut, and she gripped her friend harder. True, she might have been acting a bit too clingy, but she had some serious issues to work out. Pinkie wasn't escaping any time soon.

"Huh? You thought I kicked a bucket? No way!" Her friend gave her a strained giggle. "Don't be silly! Nothing gets past the Pinkie defense!"

Fluttershy looked at Pinkie flatly. "Gilda did."

The saccharine earth-pony had to pause at that one. "Well, yeah, I guess she did. But only a little! Otherwise, everything went exactly as planned!" While still smiling, the baker hesitated slightly. "Wait, did everything go exactly as planned?"

Now that no-one was dead? "Um, yes," she replied. "Twilight's strategy might have worked. I have the Element, and both of us are safe, I think."

"Great!" Pinkie shouted, carefully untangling herself from the overly-affectionate pegasus. Standing up properly, the bubblegum-pink mare boggled at the sight of a comatose gryphon. "Haha, wow! She's out cold. What did you do to her?"

… Ah, of course! Gilda was still there! Fluttershy turned around, and was shocked to discover a completely new landscape. It was drawn in the air like the first.
A hazy depiction of a rocky cliff-face was floating, unsupported, directly above the gryphon's prone form. It radiated feelings of coldness and solitude, infused with what had once been a true joy of flight.

But it was deformed! Oh, gosh! Gilda's personality – it was cancerous, diseased! Fluttershy had to help her!

"W-well, once I, um, got the Element, I just used it to put her to sleep," the mare rushed out. "But her mind! It's … I mean, I think the Element can do something where it draws a-a picture of the … the inside of your brain? You like candy canes! See?"

Pinkie gently patted her on the head. "Whoa there. Slow down, Fluttershy. What's this about pitchers?"

Right, she wasn't making sense, was she? She had to calm down. Calm down. The small pegasus closed her eyes and sucked in a few deep breaths before trying to speak again. "I can … I can see inside Gilda's mind. Something's wrong. And I think I can fix it."

"Huh? Is she sick?" Pinkie gasped. "Wait, is that why she was so mean? I knew it! Nopony could be like that on purpose! What's the matter with her?"

Unsure how to reply, Fluttershy turned back to the wafting vision of a windy cliff. Okay. She could do this.
As pretty as that painting was, she needed something different. Not just an overall image, more like a diagram, or chart of some kind. This was a medical issue, and she wanted to help. Come on, magic necklace. She needed to help.

As she pulled her determination together, the gryphon's picture peeled off into its component colors, bleeding outwards into bright, interlocking circles of shuddering shades.

There. Fluttershy pinpointed four of the readouts as being incorrect.
That was the problem.

Just as the pegasus had thought, Gilda's emotional spectrum was entirely, disturbingly wrong.

She found her voice, buried beneath a thick layer of worry. "Oh Pinkie, it's terrible!" she cried. Covering her mouth with her hooves, she flicked her eyes back and forth between the data and her patient.

"Really? Why, what's wrong with her?"

Fluttershy wanted to look away, but she couldn't stop staring at the diagrams. "There … there isn't any Green in her Blue! Her White has been really, awfully stained! Her Orange is nearly M-Magenta! It's appalling! I've never seen it get this bad!"

"Wh… okay. Fluttershy?" The earth-pony frowned at her, raising an irked eyebrow. "I'm supposed to be the confusing one in our group. It's a dangerous way for the untrained to live, so you should probably leave that role to the professionals. There's health and safety rules you need to follow. I mean, I can already see you're not wearing a protective helmet. Strike one."

Um. That made zero sense. Had Pinkie misheard her? "What? No, I mean … look, her East-Up needs more South-East-Down, and her North-Left-West has—"

"Gah!" Furiously shaking her head, the baker jammed her hooves over her ears. "Nope-nope! Nope! I'm not listening to Fluttershy taking my job! Lalalala!" she sang loudly.

"Oh, s-sorry." Had she offended her friend somehow? She didn't mean to. Now she had no-one to advise her on this.

The pegasus didn't know what to do. Should she try to help Gilda with her new magic powers? No, there was no way. Helping gemstone or not, she wasn't a unicorn, and all this was just too unfamiliar! What if she hurt Gilda? If something permanent happened, she'd never be able to live with herself.

Also, mind magic was illegal. Had she mentioned that?

It wasn't hard to understand why. When you got right down to it, the brain was a supremely delicate organ, and didn't react well to tampering. That's why mentally influencing other people, especially through magic, was banned amongst most civilized countries. To give an easy example, many years ago, a young princess Cadenza had been heavily attacked by the international media. It was only the public discovery of the alicorn's special talent, but it had generated waves of outrage, revulsion, and fear. No-one wanted to be hit by one of her 'love-spells', and under that excuse, paparazzi had hounded the frightened filly for months. The princess had to go into hiding for nearly a decade, accompanied only by a small group of guards, all because her magical focus was considered taboo. It hadn't been pretty.

Even Twilight's minor hypnotism of Ponyville had prompted a heavy fine from the Magical Regulation Board. Though most of the ponies involved had suffered no injury, Celestia had made her wayward student say sorry to everyone she had manipulated. While Big Mac seemed to have been oddly pleased by the spell, Fluttershy wasn't sure the Mayor had forgiven Twilight yet. The distraught lavender unicorn had taken a harsh lesson away it all; a cautionary tale on the corruptive influence of power.

Only doctors and psychiatrists were legally allowed to perform mental magic, and even then it was heavily restricted. There was plenty of variation between the brains of different people, but if you shifted the fragile balance too far, or in the wrong way, things could go dreadfully wrong. There was always the risk you could break someone's mind.

Of course, there was no need to worry about sending Gilda insane.
The gryphon was already psychotic.

Fluttershy suddenly jumped as a purple hoof came to rest on her shoulder. "T-Twilight?" she yelped.

Ugh! The Element restricted the movement of her neck, so the yellow mare couldn't quite see. It couldn't be anyone else, but she wanted the confirmation that her other friend was safe. Was the lavender unicorn okay?

A tired chuckle slipped out of her blind zone, as Twilight sat down with a grunt. "Don't worry so much. Just do what you think is right, Fluttershy. We trust you."

"Yup-eroonie!" Pinkie placed a hoof on her other shoulder in a show of support. "I was only kidding around. Go ahead and make Gilda's whole Equator lavender, if you want!"

"A-alright." The pegasus blushed. But she certainly wouldn't be doing that. Pinkie didn't know what she was saying. Not only would changing … that color be an enormous invasion of privacy, it was also very inappropriate for their current situation. Maybe … maybe sort of funny, though. Just imagining it—

Ew. No. Definitely inappropriate.

Shaking off her extraneous thoughts, Fluttershy faced her patient and tried to concentrate.

As she expected, it took time. The colors fought her efforts to change them. There had been a stunted balance in Gilda's soul, as twisted as it was. It was based on vengeance and hate and a lack of concern, but it was stable. Self-sustaining, in a horribly sick kind of way. She had to pull against the tug of that equilibrium in her efforts to heal the twisted mind before her. Like repairing damage to the body, fixing a wound to the psyche took liberal effort and plenty of care. Thankfully, once she had constructed an approximation of sanity, everything became much easier. The natural placement of healthy emotions began to exert a force of its own. Joy sprouted up from the barren earth, slowly pushing out the Rage that had taken its place. Disgust and Loss began to shrivel. Pity bloomed from Fear.

Gilda would be better in the morning.

Although Fluttershy was terribly exhausted, she took the time to smile at her work. "I think … I think I'm done. She should be fine, now. Oh, but I'm so glad you two are safe! Can yo—" She turned, and immediately choked on her words.

"Uh, can we what?" Twilight glanced over at the earth-pony next to her, who shrugged. Turning back, the bookish mare flinched a little at the look on Fluttershy's face. "Are … you okay?"

"Yeah, hey, is something wrong?" Pinkie waved a hoof in the pegasus' field of view, unknowingly jostling the cotton-candy image that trailed above her.

Fluttershy ignored them both, in favor of gaping at the gigantic, floating mountain that had somehow silently settled right next to them, without any of the three noticing.

An enormous, towering spire of beaten, blackened, rusting metal had been sitting right behind her, so close that her heavy gasps for breath were fogging the surface. It was roughly forged, just thick layers of fire-hardened steel, hammered into place over what had to have been years of effort. The monolith's peak was haphazard and crooked, but so mind-bendingly tall that the razor-sharp tip seemed to scrape against the sky.

Only the slight transparency and the intermittent wavering of the loftiest crags told Fluttershy what it was. The entire twisted construction was fake. It was nothing but a mental projection.

Still, it felt real, far stronger than any mirage! Every attempt to probe it skittered off those wickedly-jagged corners, as if the edges were made of true, material steel. The spire was so much stronger than the infinite sweetness of Pinkie's mind, and far stronger than even the stone of Gilda's. The pegasus could fully sense this mysterious object, and it felt totally solid in every way that mattered.

Even so, it hovered in place. It moved as she breathed. And it was plainly obvious that her friends couldn't see it. That menacing tower, reaching halfway to the clouds, … it didn't – couldn't – exist. No, given the powers Fluttershy's Element had displayed, it had to be some sort of impression, an image of a psyche.

But that meant terrible things. It meant terrible, awful things.

That mountain was utterly horrific mental scarring, in the form of an unbelievable wall. The tortuous, mangled shape was a basic, untrained protection. Formed form the remnants of childhood defenses that had been shattered and rebuilt, over, and over, and over again. The endless amounts of blackened metal bore the heavy scars from decades of torment, a mind honed nearly to destruction through hideous psychological torture and pain. The slapdash, hasty repairs covering each and every surface told her of a constant, desperate struggle. An utterly lonely struggle against some sort of monster, a cruel force that had never failed to enter this pony's head.

Fresh streams of tears began to roll down the well-worn tracks on Fluttershy's cheeks. Both of her friends panicked as she once again succumbed to the urge to cry, sobbing heavily into her hooves for what must have seemed like no reason at all. This kind of injury wasn't on the level of Gilda's problems. Not even close. This kind of problem wasn't natural at all.

Someone with devastating amounts of power had done this. They had taken their unimaginable strength, and used it to reach into an innocent filly's skull, slowly and deliberately breaking her mind. They had done this thousands of times.

What in Celestia's name had happened to Twilight?

Comments

[source1]

What indeed

[ForSpite]

And we all thought she was naturally mentally unstable. Jokes on us.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Hard fought, hard earned. Well done, Fluttershy. Though Twilight's mountain of psychic scarring is horrifying. What did Celestia do to her?

Also, it seems Distortion's effects are influencing all the Crusaders. Worrisome...

[Pylons]

Did.. did Apple Bloom just turn into a Gadgeteer Genius type of pony?

Somehow, I have a feeling that Pinkie won't try to take her Element back immediately, but instead, cause shenangians all over town using Apple Bloom's machines.

Wait a tick, is that Pinkie? What is she do- OH CELESTIA HELP ME SHE HAS A DIAMOND CHAINSAW THAT SHOOTS KEVLAR.

[BassMaker]

Soo... Updates... How often?

[Umbra Languish]

Gosh, sorry this is so late.
Usually I try to reply within a few days, but I've just had weeks of technical difficulty with computers in general. It ended poorly for the computer, and not fantastically for me. So, apologies all-round!
2145697
Indeed. *smokes pipe*
2146009
I like to think the joke's on Twilight. She has terrible luck, you see.
2153948
Oh, don't worry so much. I doubt everything is as bad as you think!
…
To be honest, it's probably worse.
2156291
Hmm. Seems legit to me.
Although, you're assuming Pinkie hasn't already built her own crazy devices with which to wreak untold havoc.
On a completely unrelated note, a cannon can fire anything put inside it, right?
2228541
Since I self-edit, and write depressingly slowly, infrequently at best. I really am sorry. As a new writer, I'm still coming to grips with scheduling and the like.
Although, if you're okay with smaller, less-graphically-fancy snippets, I do have a small thread on a fairly popular forum where I post the portions of the chapters as I write them. They're not quite as snappy, but because they're kinda unedited and only a few pages each, they come much quicker than the real McCoy. But, I mean, quicker than what? Very slow? That's still pretty slow.
Sigh.

[BassMaker]

2263739 New... Writer? Damn, you seemed more like a very experienced one... Hmm, well then. On the note of updates, I think I can be patient and wait for the higher quality longer versions. Thanks for the honest reply though. Best of luck... +1 Watcher

Don't blink, please, just one referance, you don't hve to though

[Umbra Languish]

2267059
Goodness, what praise! Stoppit, you're making me blush.

Challenge accepted.

[mesu-no-TORA]

It's not all that important, but I must say it delights me when anyone uses Rose in conjunction with the Doctor. It's so rarely done. I must say, this magnificent work of fiction has captured my interest. I do hope to see more chapters out soon.

[Umbra Languish]

2339059
Given the names, you'd think it'd be more common, hmm? Strange.
And I certainly appreciate the compliments! I'll do my best to hurry up and write, then. Off I go.