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The Prodigal Daughter Comes Back3,997 words
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The Prodigal Daughter Takes Note4,095 words
The Prodigal Daughter Doesn't Do Much of Anything4,276 words
The Prodigal Daughter is Beside Herself3,028 words
The Prodigal Daughter Goes Through the Looking-Glass4,553 words
The Prodigal Daughter is Really Hot2,732 words
The Prodigal Daughter is Home3,089 words

The Prodigal Daughter Takes Note

Entry 96: So, Twilight. About your other self: she is adorable. And a dork. Adorkable! Ditto her brother. Wait, have you got a brother, too? Does he tell terrible dad jokes and cry during the Notebook? This version of him does. I bet yours does too. God, it’s just so surreal. She’s nothing like you and exactly like you all at the same time. I wonder, would the two of you get along if you met? Would your friends get along with their counterparts?

...Would it be weird to have sex with your counterpart, Dash wants to know. My opinion is yes, absolutely, but then again I’m not sold on the idea of sex in general. It seems inefficient and kind of gross. I’ve gotten off the point. The point is, your counterpart is adorkable. Did you use to be like her? I bet you were. She actually reminds me a little bit of myself when I was young. Huh. How ‘bout that?

GTG, AJ’s hosting a sleepover!

“Fluttershy!” Rarity called, hammering at the door, “Open up! This is an absolute EMERGENCY!”

There was a muffled, but obviously heated conversation from the other side. Rarity heard the phrases “She’ll laugh at me!”, “She needs my help”, and “She’s my friend!”.

“Please?” Rarity asked again. “Spike is in need of your veterinary assistance, at once!”

After a few moments more, Fluttershy opened the door. She looked her friend firmly in the eye. “Before I let you in, Discord wants you to Pinkie Promise that you won’t laugh.”

Rarity blinked. “Won’t laugh— I thought they liked laughter?”

“Not,” a familiar voice from inside the house growled, “when it’s directed at me.”

“Oh, very well,” the unicorn sighed, making the motions rapidly. “Now, can we please come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Fluttershy replied, quickly stepping back.

Rarity stepped into the pegasus’s living room. She frowned. There was no sign of Discord, and they weren’t exactly easy to miss. The only other being in the room was a very grouchy-looking dun unicorn in a formal suit. They glared at her with irate but resigned red eyes. “Go ahead, yuk it up,” Discord grumbled. For the second time that day, Rarity was lost for words. “I— what—” she stuttered

“If I knew that,” Discord growled, “I’d already have fixed it. How you ponies get around in such puny bodies is beyond me— I mean, you’re limited to traveling in four dimensions, and you can only control your movement in three of them!”

“Where’s Spike?” Fluttershy asked, glancing around. Rarity snapped out of her shocked stupor.

“Where— Spike! Spike, come in right this instant!” she shouted.

A gloomy-looking purple muzzle poked into the room. Fluttershy gasped. Discord sat bolt upright. Spike, tail between his legs, slunk into the room. “You see the problem?” Rarity sighed.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy breathed. “How adorable! Who’s a good boy? Who is it? Oo is it?”

Spike let out a whine and lay down, covering his head with his paws. Rarity gave her friend a flat look, and Fluttershy had the decency to look abashed. Discord, meanwhile, had gotten up from where they had been sitting to examine the erstwhile dragon more closely. “Hm,” they murmured. “I was afraid of that. It’s the same thing that got to me.”

“What? What is it?” Rarity asked.

Discord rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t tell you, you’ll pin all the blame on poor old me, who can’t even defend themself properly.” They pulled out a small speck and sighed. “Watson! Watson, play me a melody.”

A cricket leapt into the unicorn’s outstretched hoof and, picking up the speck— which was in actuality a very small violin— began to play a slow, haunting tune. “The world is so cruel,” Discord sighed dramatically.

Rarity raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are you to blame?” she asked, point blank.

Discord let out a huff of air. “No,” they admitted begrudgingly as the cricket hopped from their hoof. “I had nothing to do with this. At all. Which, if I’m honest, is more than a tad irksome…”

“Well, go on then,” Rarity said. “If you say this is not your fault, I suppose I can believe it.”

Discord eyed her closely for a moment. “Huh. Do you know, I think you actually mean that? Very well. It’s chaos magic. A draconequus did this.”

“A draconequus… other than yourself,” Rarity replied. “As in, there are multiple draconocci.” She pondered this for a moment. “That is absolutely terrifying,” she said.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, either,” Fluttershy agreed. “Multiple Discords? Really?” she shuddered.

Discord scowled. “I feel so loved,” they snarked. “But, yes, there are others of my kind. Why not? After all, there’s more than just one alicorn, and this universe does like its ‘balance and harmony’ schtick.”

“There are four of you?” Rarity gasped.

“At minimum,” Discord agreed, taking a bit of relish from the unicorn’s horror and eating it on a hot dog. “After all, before our dear Purple Princess stopped being such a shrinking violet and turned into purple mountain majesty, there were only three alicorns, and I knew of at least three other chaos beings.” They frowned. “And none of this fits with any of their styles,” they murmured. “No mass destruction, no time loops or anachronisms, no chaos in the name of art… Ladies, Spike, we are dealing with an unknown individual, fueled by chaos magic. That individual is, at present, stronger even than me, which certainly doesn’t bode well for the chances of your pretty pony princesses. Unless we can stop them, the entire world, possibly the entire universe, will be turned on its ear.” Rarity and Fluttershy gasped as the room tilted onto its side, sending everything other than Discord sliding into a wall.

Discord grinned, suddenly. “Oh, it’s like Hearth’s Warming came early!” they crowed.

***

“We’re the worst,” Twilight said, resting her head on the lunch tray. “Sunset was our friend, and we literally know nothing about where she lived, where she got her money, anything.”

“You have more of an excuse than we do,” Fluttershy said morosely. “You didn’t know her for nearly as long as the rest of us did.”

“Yeah,” Applejack agreed. “All those times she stayed wi’ one of us, and we never even thought t’ ask about where she might live the rest of the time.”

Pinkie’s hair had deflated slightly. “Oh no no no no, what if she was living in an abandoned factory full of spiderwebs and arsenic and old lace, and she had to keep out robbers and bad guys with booby traps made of old paint cans and trampolines? And she spent Christmas there all by herself except for the robbers trying to get in through the basement, except oh no, the windowsill fell on their fingers and also the floor is covered in tacks and Lego—”

“Pinkie, you’re confusing reality with the Home Alone movies again,” Dash said flatly.

“Oh yeah! Those were really funny,” Pinkie said, brightening up. “We should try to do something like that the next time a big meanie monster tries to attack!”

“Focus, darlings,” Rarity said shortly. “There must be someone who knows where Sunset lives!”

Sunset shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Again, right here,” she muttered.

“Of course. Apologies, darling.”

“Rarity, if none of us know, who would? We were, like, her closest friends!” Rainbow said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We could ask my mom,” Sunset suggested.

“Principal Celestia? Nah, she wouldn’t let us see another student’s records just like that…” Applejack said, shaking her head. “On th’ subject, though; the principal is yer ma?”

“Adoptive, yes. My parents died a long time ago. I never knew them, but apparently they were old friends of hers. She didn’t find out about me until relatively recently, though, they lost touch before I was born. When she did find out, she decided to take me in, and the rest is history, I suppose.”

“Guys!” Twilight said, slamming a hand on the table. “Focus! Where would Sunset have lived? She didn’t have any family or connections when she got here from ponyworld, no money as far as we know…”

“She lives at the Hilbert Hostel,” a male voice said. Fourteen eyes turned toward the new font of information. Flash Sentry stood behind Pinkie, munching on a cookie. “Uh, not to be weird about this, but why can’t Sunset just tell you herself?”

“She’s the wrong one,” Twilight said shortly. Then flinched a bit as the girl in question winced. “ Sorry, Sunset. If it helps, I was 'the wrong Twilight' for about three months. Flash, how did you know that, exactly?”

The blue-haired boy took another bite of his cookie. “‘Cause I’ve been there,” he said, voice muffled through the crumbs. He swallowed. “What do you mean, the wrong one?”

“You know, like I was the wrong Twilight?” the purple girl returned, a trace of acid in her tone.

Flash’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh. I thought you looked different, Sunset. It’s the hair, right?”

“Yes, yes, the hair, big hit with everyone,” Sunset crabbed. “Where is this place?”

Flash blinked. “Uh, pretty close to the edge of town. I think I should be able to remember the way, if you want to go there after school.”

“We don’t want to go there after school,” Twilight said with a shake of her head.

The others stared at her. “Twi’, what in tarnation—”

The purple girl rose, and the light reflected off of her glasses menacingly. “We’re going right now.”

There was a long silence. “Twilight, we’ve got school,” Rainbow pointed out. Then she broke into a grin. “I knew being a bad influence on you would pay off eventually.”

***

Celestia sat in the back of her chariot, trying every spell she could think of to hide the growing spot of pink. Illusions clung to it, but the result looked something like white molasses, which slowly oozed off. Transformation caused her coat to fall out in patches. An invisibility spell led to a brief, yet memorable, experience of the princess getting to see her own internal organs. Celestia shuddered at the memory. Anatomy textbooks only told part of the story.

She shook herself out of her stupor, and reviewed her options once more. It was a very short list. Nothing would affect the pink spot. Perhaps, then, she should focus her attentions on a different part of the equation. How could she make it appear that there was nothing wrong to the eyes of her subjects? Mind control, even for something as benign as this, was right out of the question. Meddling with her subjects’ minds was utterly immoral. Perhaps a perception filter of some sort? Something that would make her coat appear to be white, without directly being cast on the spot, seemed the ideal solution. But such spells took a great deal of focus to cast, and time she didn’t have. Where could she find an artifact already enchanted to turn her coat white? She glanced ahead at Ponyville, rapidly approaching on the horizon. The light glinting off of her guards’ armor made her wince and squint. Then, slowly, a plan began to form in her mind.

***

Sunset followed Trixie through the arching doorway into the Princess’s bedroom. She blinked. “Wait. This is Twilight’s room?”

Trixie looked back. “What did you expect?”

Sunset glanced around the room. Pushed up against the wall was an old and unmade bed. Bookshelves covered every wall, and scrolls were stacked in piles on every surface in the room. There was an entire cabinet full of inkpots, and another one completely filled with quills. A tattered stuffed donkey sat in the corner of one of the desks, and Owlowiscious perched in a corner, fast asleep. “Okay, yeah. I probably should’ve seen this coming,” Sunset admitted.

Trixie smirked. “It was modeled off her old room, from before the library was destroyed,” she added.

Sunset stopped. “The library was… destroyed?” she asked.

Trixie nodded. “Blown up by Tirek when he escaped Tartarus,” she said, shaking her head. “A pity. Trixie never visited it when it was still standing.”

“Wow,” Sunset said softly. “She must have been heartbroken.”

Trixie nodded. “She still misses it, now and again,” she said. “Sometimes, Trixie sees her looking at old photos of it.”

“Huh,” Sunset said. “Wouldn’t know it to look at her.”

Trixie shrugged. “Twilight moved on eventually. She still likes to stop and remember it, but she has other things to think about, new friends to meet, new adventures to go on… If she spent all her time in the past, she’d never get anything done in the present.”

“Deep,” Sunset said, impressed. “You come up with that on your own?”

“Nah,” Trixie replied, rifling around on the other side of the bed. “Trixie was quoting Daring Do.” She pulled out a slightly careworn old journal and levitated it to Sunset, who caught it in her forehooves, only fumbling slightly.

She stared at the book for a long moment, caressing the cover softly. Trixie shuffled her hooves. “The Awkward and Disturbed Trixie has to go… somewhere. For reasons. Before you start sniffing the pages or something. Bye.” She trotted off as quickly as she could without it turning into a full-on gallop.

Sunset took a deep breath in and opened the book.

***

Celestia landed in the center of town square. Bystanders glanced up as she landed… and then went back to their daily business. Having a local princess and a resident chaos spirit tended to render ponies a little bit jaded. At the moment, Celestia was just fine with that. She didn’t need anypony watching too closely, didn’t need anypony see her horn faintly glowing as she cast the spell, didn’t need anypony to see through the illusion of a white coat provided by her careful manipulation of light around her, reflecting all wavelengths off of a forcefield mere micrometers from her body. She would have to hurry— this spell was taking an immense amount of concentration to properly maintain, and the pink spot was still growing. She nodded and smiled briefly, then leapt from the chariot and hoofed it in the direction of the Castle of Friendship. If she hurried, she could make it… “Princess? Oh, Princess Celestia!” a familiar voice sang.

Celestia’s ears flattened against her head. Quickly composing herself, she turned around, smiling warmly. “Good afternoon, Rarity. Is there something you talk to me about?”

Rarity’s smile seemed tight, almost forced. “You might say that. Could you come to the Boutique for a moment?”

Celestia hesitated. The boutique was nearby, and Rarity was trustworthy. She would have to hurry, but…

She realized that Rarity was already hurrying back toward the Carousel Boutique. Quickly, Celestia followed after, her curiosity now outweighing her other concerns. She slipped through the front door of the store just after the unicorn. She blinked, taken aback by the darkness. “Now, Princess,” Rarity began. “Before we begin, I’m afraid I’ve been asked to evoke from you a Pinkie Promise…”

***

Tears spattered gently over the ink and yellowed paper. Familiar, slightly crabbed and messy handwriting covered the pages with words that she remembered well. Here, a message about helping Fluttershy at the animal shelter— there, a message about team spirit, learned from Dash. On one page, she detailed her exploration of human fashions with Rarity. On the next, she reread her account of Applejack’s teachings of farm work and family. The page after that… she squinted. This was not her writing. It was a twirly, curly script, done in hot-pink pen.

Dear Princess,
Hope this letter finds you really really well! I just wanted to say that I learned an important friendship lesson today with Sunny! She helped me track down ALL my party supplies after they got blown away at our picnic party. A good friend is always there for you when you need them most.
-PINKIE PIE
P.S. Don’t tell Sunny about this letter; she doesn’t know I borrowed the Friendship Journal. It’ll be our secret.

Sunset smiled through her tears. “Oh, Pinkie Pie,” she whispered. “You’re so… perfect.”

“Gee! Do you really think so?”

“GAH!” Sunset leapt away from the unexpected party pony. “How long have you been here?”

Pinkie cocked her head thoughtfully. “Mmm. Hard to say… all afternoon, pretty much. Gotta get your party cookin’!”

“I— no, I mean— wait, what party?”

Pinkie gasped and stared at Sunset in awe and mild horror. “How did you know about the party? Did Twilight tell you? Or Trixie? Oh, I knew I should’ve made them Pinkie-promise to keep it secret!”

“Pinkie? You told me about the party. Like, just ten seconds ago.”

Pinkie gasped again and shoved a hoof into her own mouth. “Oh, NO!” she gasped. “Did I break a Pinkie Promise?” She thought about this for a moment. “Hm. Nope. No, I never Pinkie Promised myself I wouldn’t blab about the party.”

She brightened, and pronked out the door, once more in high spirits. Sunset stared after her. “...Party?” she asked again. “What party? Am I missing something?”

Her eyes fell on the book once more. Am I missing something? she wondered. Or perhaps... several somethings? The light seemed to flow oddly in this room, she noticed now— the crystal in the wall gave it an unreal quality, like the light of a dream. She blinked muzzily. Was she dreaming? Perhaps all this was an illusion? No more than a piece of bad cheese or a moldy loaf of bread?

She was aroused from her daze by a crashing clatter from down the hall. The spell broken, she ran towards the disturbance, pausing only to grab the friendship journal from where it lay on the floor. The light in the room seemed to glow red for the space of an eyeblink before returning to its original hue and lustre, all traces of illusion now gone. Gone, that is, save for a quickly-moving streak of red light refracting through the translucent walls of crystal…

***

The van streaked down the streets like rain down a windowpane. Flash’s knuckles were bleached white. “I cannot believe you talked me into this,” he groaned.

“You can’t believe it? I’m the principal’s newly-adopted daughter, for pity’s sake,” Sunset moaned, curling into the fetal position in the back of the Rainbooms’ band van (formerly belonging to Fluttershy’s brother until he decided that a furniture moving service was too much work to continue).

“Hey, at least I thought ahead enough to cover for us all,” Twilight retorted.

“You did? How?” Dash asked, leaning forward in her seat.

***

“Now, who can answer question twenty-three? Mmm, Miss Pie?” The querying, monocled blue eye of Canterlot High’s physics professor blinked once, settling on a mass of candyfloss in the third row.

“Ooh, um, the mass rotates around the origin with a period of T=1.1 seconds, which sounds really fun! I’m gonna try it!”

“Mm, while that is correct, Miss Pie, I would ask that you please return to your chair.”

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Thorax did as Dr. Turner requested.

“You really need to stop getting yourself into these sorts of things,” the boy muttered to himself. “Just because a girl has a nice dog doesn’t mean you should just drop everything for her. Even if she does promise you a kiss…”

A dopey smile passed over his face. “Well, just this once,” he hummed. Then he let out a strangled gasp as the bright pink wig slipped over his face.

***

“Not important!” Twilight said brightly. “What is important is answers! We need to figure all of this out, and I don’t think we can do that until we understand where Sunset—” she hesitated, glancing at the orange girl now spread eagle in the back of the van. “Where the other Sunset was coming from.”

“Ah reckon ya might be onto somethin’,” Applejack agreed from her hard-won shotgun position. “Even if it ain’t nothin’ ta help us find her, we oughta know more about her. We… we just… just in case.”

No one asked just in case of what. It was possible that none of them really knew. Flash’s hands grew almost tighter on the wheel, if such a thing were possible. “We’re nearly there,” he said, staring straight ahead.

Dash tapped her index fingers together nervously. “So, uh, Sunset… you any good at music?”

“Rainbow!” virtually everyone else shouted as one.

***

The Doctor’s breaths were labored now. He leaned against a nearby storefront, panting like a dog. He just didn’t understand— running at these sorts of speeds, even at such a distance, was nothing new to him, and this was one of the fittest bodies he’d had in a long time. He registered that the door to the shop had just swung open, and that a mare was staring at him. “Sir? Doctor? Are you alright?”

He glanced up. “‘M fine,” he muttered, struggling to stand up straight. “No worries, Miss…” what was her name? “Hyacinth?”

The pink mare blanched slightly. “It’s Lily,” she replied. “Look, you’re obviously not fit to be walking around town, Doctor Turner. Just come in— you’re not sick are you?” she gasped suddenly.

“Hn? No. No, I doubt it. Your diseases wouldn’t really affect me, different biology and that. I’m just… tired.”

He slumped against the side of the store. His eyes were growing foggy. This all felt familiar, but he couldn’t place how… Hold on, the mare was saying something. “Hm? What’s that, Violet?” he asked.

“Doctor! You’re glowing!”

Oh. Yes, quite. That again. “No,” he muttered. “No, you can’t do this— can’t do this to me. Can’t change my face without my say-so…”

Lily stared in horror as the golden glow grew brighter and brighter, unable to move or even speak. Eventually, she compromised on a scream.

***

Celestia stared in mute shock. Her fur turning pink? Okay, there was probably an explanation for that. Frankly, she had quietly suspected Discord, right up until she’d seen them, scowling, in his pony form. That, too, was not altogether impossible to accept— Discord was hardly one to adhere to the laws of the universe, and that had had consequences for them on multiple occasions. They were, however, unlikely to pull this trick merely on a whim, and even less likely to not gloat about their trickery. “You’re sure this was the work of another draconequus,” she said. “Not your daughter, or one of the others?”

“Daughter?” Fluttershy asked, surprised.

Discord smiled at the pegasus. “Ah. You’ve not met my dear, darling Screwball yet, have you? Another day, perhaps.” They turned back to Celestia, the smile melting from their face. “In short, this simply isn’t Screwball’s style, nor Paradox’s. As for my dear sibling…” Their eyes went as hard and cold as space debris. “Well. Suffice it to say that we would all know if that had escaped.”

Celestia sighed. “So, where does that leave us? We are dealing with a being that could be anywhere, look like anything, DO anything, and is already meddling with the fabric of reality. Is there anything I’m missing?”

“A sense of humor, perhaps?” Discord suggested wryly. “Or, no, I know! You need a new outfit to match your new coat!”

Rarity regarded the princess thoughtfully. “Hm. They may have a point, at that… something in light blue, perhaps? No, no, that wouldn’t do… not without some yellow trim, anyway.”

Celestia coughed. “I feel we may be getting away from the matter at hoof,” she said.

“Oh!” Rarity blushed. “Yes, of course.” Inside, she cursed her bad luck— she could have had the chance to completely design the princess’s new wardrobe!

Celestia paced. “The question is, has anything else happened? You say you tried to keep quiet about your changes, so it is, admittedly, likely that others will do the same— but have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Peculiar changes in others? Anachronisms? Anything unusual at all?”

“HELP!” a voice screeched from outside. “Doctor Turner is on FIRE!”

Fluttershy raised a hoof timidly. “Does that count?”

Celestia considered. “Well… maybe. The Doctor always was one to get in that sort of situation. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Discord groaned. “Do we have to?” they whined. “I can’t be seen like this, I have an image to maintain!”

Celestia facehooved. “Rarity? Would you bring Discord something so they can cover up? By all means, charge the bill to the Crown, it’ll make an interesting point at the annual budget meetings, if nothing else.”

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