Glimmer

by Estee

Negative Class

Reality quickly put an end to any concept of dramatic timing.

Touch the quartz, and then -- well, with at least one unicorn plus the teleportation devices in play, Twilight belatedly realized that it wouldn't have been completely out of the question to have somepony simply appear. 'Unlikely' was fair, especially since the base requirement for a safe teleport site was that it be forever empty and even if somepony used resonance to keep the animals away, it was decidedly harder to prevent the rain forest from growing a thick tree branch across your arrival point.

Even so, she'd taken a risk by simply making contact with the quartz without any other preparations in play. Recognizing that after the fact had cost them several seconds, all lost to Twilight's wincing. Because she could have waited to touch the stone. She hadn't given them a chance to plan for anypony's arrival. They were going to be working too fast, trying to operate on limited time while waiting to be pushed into desperate improvisation...

...so it was definitely a real mission.

She did have a rough idea for how long it might take for anypony to conventionally arrive: Spike had followed the initial group all the way to the edge of the shield -- followed by sensibly backing up for a good distance before creating his signal. (Not that he'd had a lot in the way of choice, because the resonance had come back shortly after the gap had closed and even with a little dragon who'd been aware that the emotion was being imposed, 'back off' had very much been on his mind.) Figure that the 'community' was most likely near the base of the mountain because having a cliff at the group's collective dock created protection, add in some time for getting a group together and then factor in that none of the pegasi had been flying while remembering to not rely on that part...

Twilight figured that they would be waiting for at least an hour, and much more likely closer to two. It gave them the chance to set their scene. And so they backed off somewhat from the quartz and went to work, keeping their ears rotating the whole time. Listening for the approach, while hoping it was about two hours off.

The fur dye wound up being used. A portion of the ground was covered by dirty cloth, giving them a working area. Twilight performed the application, Applejack kept the headlamp focused on the target, Spike carefully checked for missed spots, and Fluttershy held as still as she could. She continued to hold her position until the dye completely dried, because it helped to be dripping in a single area. And once the coating had settled in, a jungle-green pegasus took a few hoofsteps away from the others and stayed there, because it took some time for the scent of the dye to fade and it was best to maintain some distance until dissipation was complete. Another chance taken, but -- everything was a gamble.

The tent was put up, because a group moving through a completely unfamiliar wild zone at night wasn't going to do so for long and so the most natural action to take was making camp. A fire was started with draconic ease, which also gave Twilight the chance to check on that aspect of her brother's breathing. They burned the dye-stained ground cover.

And then they had a decision to make. Something which was done with two mares and one dragon fully inside that tent. Just in case.

"Ah still think we've gotta bring y'in, Spike," Applejack firmly said. "Ah know it's a risk, but -- leavin' you outside is worse."

"I want to be there, but -- I'm not sure," he reluctantly admitted. "If I'm not under the lockdown, then I can still get through to the palace --"

"-- an' you're out there on your own," the farmer cut him off. "When y'ain't all the way better yet. An' even if we ain't seen monsters out here, Ah ain't ready t' trust that there aren't any. The ones they've got might jus' be really good at hidin'."

"...telling the palace what we're doing," Fluttershy softly called back from her watch position at the tent's entrance, "means one of us has to tell you. That means -- going up to the edge of the shield?"

"Possibly over and over," Twilight agreed. "Multiple chances to be followed and caught. Spike, if these are ponies who need help, then it's easier to explain you after we find out what's going on. Especially if it is a medical issue." She was still holding out some hope for that -- and felt as if the light of a 'best' possibility was steadily dimming. "If we can get them to believe nopony's going to hurt or punish them, and that we can have the Royal Physicians here within a day -- then revealing how we're going to alert the Doctors Bear would be a lot easier."

"And if it's something worse?" was asked in youthful tones. Ones which were just a little too steady.

"Then when we find out, you'll be with us," his sister grimly stated. "Which means we can all do something about it. So let's pick a disguise from the necklace. Something which isn't living, because it's going to be too suspicious if we're all constantly keeping you from being touched."

He took a slow, slightly-moist breath. "Twilight -- are you sure --"

He would stay out here.

Lighting fires every so often, sitting in them when he had the chance. Trying to self-treat. Constantly on guard for monsters and predators and worse. Sleeping with nopony to watch over him, forcing himself to stay near the shield just in case one of us got close enough to see.

He would do that for us, if we asked. Without hesitation, and while trying to keep his knees from knocking.

And that was why she couldn't ask him.

"I'm sure," she gently told him.

"It's giving up communication with the palace," he pointed out. "All of it."

"Unless I can beat the lockdown," Twilight reminded him. And do so in such a way that either the caster isn't alerted. Or -- after it might not matter any more. "Which I'll have a better gallop at from the inside, because that'll probably give me a chance to find the devices."

The reptilian expression twisted in a familiar way.

He doesn't want to doubt me. Not openly. But he's worried.

The little mare took a slow breath. "I get it, Spike," she told him. "It helps, to know we can ask them to come. Just to receive scrolls, and know we're not on our own out here. That there's somepony back home who's worried about us, and who -- cares." (She heard the farmer take a deep breath. Watched a thick blonde tail twitch.) "But we've got the signal devices."

Which presumes our possessions aren't searched after we get in. We'd have to explain everything we have, and could just lose it outright anyway.

...having our stuff searched is going to make it really awkward to explain Spike. One of those possessions has to disappear...

"And if those are taken?" Spike asked, because he was more than smart enough to think of that.

Immediately, "Then we make a light."

"Make a light," he just barely smiled. "Close to midnight or noon. Right."

If it's that easy. A shield which changed color and didn't reveal the glow of a community might do a lot to contain light.

"But we're not going in without telling them what we're doing," Twilight quickly added. "And I'm pretty sure we've still got some time before anypony shows up. So -- let's put a scroll together. Give them one more update, while we still can." With a small wince, "And tell them to only send a reply if it's going to turn up within the next forty minutes or so, minus whatever it takes to write this. We really don't need to explain an incoming scroll appearing out of whatever you are."

"...yeah," Spike eventually half-smiled. "We got kind of lucky with the timing in Trotter's Falls, but -- yeah."

Contacting the palace could be seen as the death of independence, because she was about to tell the Princesses what they intended to do and Twilight felt as if there was a very good chance of being ordered not to do that.

But they might not have any better ideas. If they do, I'll listen, but --
-- my friends are in there.

The palace could say whatever it wanted. And there might be some wisdom in those words, because the Diarchy was composed of mares who had experience -- but they weren't the ones who were here.

The Princesses could issue instructions. Orders. And unless those commands made perfect, near-immediate sense, Twilight was going in anyway.

Do they even know what it's like to be out here --

...yes. They did. Twilight was sure of that. But... she felt the Princesses hadn't personally experienced it for a very long time.

"...picking a disguise," Fluttershy mused. "The box would be hard to balance on somepony's back --"

"-- not the box," Spike immediately decided.

"We'll think 'bout the options while y'write," Applejack proposed -- then paused. "Spike, how many scrolls y'got?"

"Nine," he admitted. "But I've got ink for more than that, and we might be able to restock when we get inside."

"That's the best case," Twilight reminded him. "But if it's a research facility --" and not necessarily a medical one "-- then they might have spell notation scrolls around."

Nine. And that number was about to drop. If she did wind up having to match herself against the lockdown, any test object sent into the aether couldn't be a scroll.

"Nine," Twilight repeated. "Let's make it eight. Spike --" and she watched him grin "-- take a letter."

She dictated. He wrote. The siblings mutually accelerated their pace, made sure to squeeze all the details in.

"Did we miss anything?" Spike asked as he redipped the quill. "I've got some space left."

Twilight mentally reviewed. "Unless somepony can think of a detail, I think we've got all of it." Carefully, "Anypony?"

"...no," Fluttershy softly told them.

"Not here," Applejack added.

"Okay," Spike said. "Sen --"

"-- Spike? Could y'hold up a second?"

The dragon's minimal lips froze mid-purse.

"Ask the palace t' tell Snowflake Ah'm thinkin' 'bout him," Applejack softly required. "Since y'got space."

Twilight blinked.

Spike hesitated, and vertically-slit pupils focused on eyes of a lighter green. The farmer silently nodded.

"Okay," the little dragon said. Wrote it down, waited for any other last-second additions, finally breathed --

-- light and mist and just the faintest touch of heat. All being sent to their home, when they could not follow.

"So," Applejack said, doing so at the exact moment when the last of the sending's radiance had faded from the tent's fabric. "Disguises. We know what's waitin' in those beads. Ah think the best choice here --"

They talked it out, and then a disgruntled Spike was told to wait it out in the tent -- after a very quick visit to the shadowed side of a tree, just in case it turned out to be a long wait.

"The trees behind the tent," Twilight told him. "In case they show up before we're expecting them. We can claim we left some things back there. Fluttershy, would you follow him?"

The "Um," from her sibling was both immediate and awkward. "I really don't want anypony watching while I --"

"-- she'll just keep an eye on the direction you went," Twilight assured him. "In case something happens."

"We were never attacked," Spike quickly tried. "I'll be fine --"

"-- neither were we," Twilight admitted. "I'm just not counting on keeping that streak intact."

He grumbled, then half-stomped towards the exit. Fluttershy got up, allowed him to pass, and then followed.

"An' now we wait," Applejack grumbled. "Funny how often that turns out t' be the hardest part. Kinda hopin' that holds up here --"

"-- you've never asked Spike to send anything to your family," Twilight softly reminded her friend. "Not on missions, at least not that I've been there for. Not once, Applejack."

The farmer's head dipped, and orange ears went back.

"...yeah," Applejack softly said. "Ah -- huh. Just felt the brim there. Forgot Ah was still wearin' this. Always figured Ah'd have a chance t' take it off in a hurry if'fin somepony showed up. Can we find a good place t' hide it? In the supplies, Ah mean. Don't want t' take a chance on losin' --"

"-- you've got a lot of little tricks for when you don't want to say something," Twilight quietly cut in. "One of them is changing the subject. I'll help you hide your hat, Applejack. But I'd rather hear you tell me 'I don't want to talk about this' than listen to you talking around it."

Silence.

"...please," the little mare softly added. "I'll drop the topic if you want me to. I won't push. But it stood out --"

A powerful forehoof was raised: wait. Twilight stopped.

Green eyes slowly closed. Opened again.

"They're... jus' about always out of contact," Applejack slowly said. "Even when we've got somethin' goin' in Ponyville, Ah usually can't jus' call out 'Ah'm all right!' an' figure they'll hear me." With a tiny smile, "Except for the times we've had t' clean up after one of mah blood, obviously. An' then we usually can't slow down enough t' yell."

Twilight nodded. Applejack slowly, bemusedly shook her head.

"Cleanin' up after family," the farmer continued. "Apple Bloom's one thing. Mac... well, Mac. But Ah was there, an' Ah still can't believe Granny didn't stay off that list..." A soft sigh. "Ah don't ask Spike t' send anythin' for one reason, Twilight. Because they're already thinkin' 'bout me. Maybe too much, especially with Apple Bloom. Because for her -- for me, come t' think of it -- it's kinda strung through our heads. Stiffer than wire, an' y'should probably check that mane bow before it all starts. Make sure it ain't got any bends in the platinum --"

Stopped. Took a deep breath, and the thick blonde tail twitched.

"-- listen t' me," Applejack quietly went on. "Distractin' myself, t' keep from saying it."

"You don't have to --"

"-- Ah'm pretty sure AB and Ah both believe -- if ponies head off -- they ain't comin' back." And there was no mirth contained within the world's thinnest smile. "Call that 'learnin' from experience'."

She had to force herself to speak, could barely get the words out because some wounds never fully healed, she was watching a friend tear at a dripping scab until fresh blood surged forth and that was Twilight's fault, it had to end... "Applejack, you can stop, I'm sorry..."

The stubborn mare shook her head again. Took another breath.

"Ah don't send word back until we're clear," Applejack continued, "'cause Ah don't want them t' think 'bout it more than they already do. Could be worse if Ah prompted it, an' -- it's already enough of a burden." A little more slowly, "An' for that matter, Twi... count off the times you've asked Spike t' let your parents know how things are goin'."

The weight of realization seemed to be crushing her throat.

"...oh."

"Zero, right?"

"...yes."

"Don't worry too much," Applejack kindly told her. "Ah'm pretty sure that matches the count for everypony else. 'cause we've all got families, Twi. Every last one of us knows they worry, an' all we want them t' know is that we got home safe. An' none of us tell 'em what's going on before that happens. It's jus' more visible with me an' Rarity, 'cause there's times when our families get t' see us leave. Everypony else jus' finds out after the fact. An' we tell ourselves they're better off." With a tiny sigh, "Ah'm hopin' that ain't a lie."

They were both silent for a while. Around them, the forest growled, twittered, squawked and in a few places, listened as portions of itself died.

"It's a burden sometimes, bein' a Bearer," Applejack finally continued. "Ah know you've felt that way, now an' again. We all have. But bein' related t' one -- that ain't much better."

"And... now?" Twilight forced herself to ask. "With Snowflake?"

"It's a burden," the farmer repeated. "He's strong enough to haul it." The powerful body pushed, and four strong legs sent the earth pony upright. "Help me hide the hat? An' we've gotta get the medical stuff out. Fluttershy has t' bandage at least one wing." Her lips quirked. "Because startin' now, Twi, you're a pegasus."

"A perfectly normal pegasus," Twilight made herself say, forcing herself to stand up against the pulling undercurrents of swirling emotions. "Who can't fly."

"Who can't fly all that well," Applejack corrected. "Y'can get in the air if y'need to. It's 'bout how fast y'can get Rainbow out in front, an' holding that aspect there. Y'know that. An' -- you'll manage."

"That's your opinion," the little mare dryly observed.

"Yeah," the farmer admitted. "But it's an honest one, ain't it? So bandaged wing. With a trick knot on the wrappin', so you can get it off with one good flare t' full span. Shouldn't be too hard there. 'Shy understands knots."

"And sewing," Twilight mock-grumbled. "Somehow..." A little more softly, "Is there anything you want to tell me? While there's time?"

"Yeah." Strong shoulders slumped, and the blonde tail's bound tip brushed the tent's floor. "Ah've got a few worries 'bout losin' mah mark. An' Ah'd rather not discuss the details right now, any more than Ah want t' talk about what might be happenin' t' the others. Ah jus' figure the best way t' resolve everythin' is by solvin' this." Green eyes locked onto purple. "So... once we get in there -- think 'bout what we have t' do, Twi. Because comin' up with ways t' beat what everypony else thought was impossible -- that's when we need you most."

The librarian felt her lips quirk.

"No pressure," she said.

"Now that," the farmer announced, "is a lie." And, moving slowly and carefully, removed her hat. "Oh -- right. Once we've got a place t' put this, help me get the rope loops off mah mane an' tail? Can't overlook the secondaries."

---

About two hours before anypony arrived to bring them in. That had felt like a reasonable estimate, and the palace managed to squeeze in a reply scroll when there was about eight minutes to go.

They read it quickly. It didn't take long to pick up on the ill-concealed notes of deep inherent unhappiness with the situation, but -- they weren't being ordered to turn back. However, there were two rather direct reminders about the signal devices, one insistent notation about testing the lockdown from the inside felt so cold as to have potentially originated from Luna -- and a single update.

We're launching an investigation into the mare who identified herself as 'Starlight'.

And that was all. The palace was trying to learn about the unicorn. But they didn't have anything to share yet and once the entire group was under the shield, they wouldn't be able to pass anything along.

The received scroll was destroyed, along with the rest of their communications from the palace: potentially having their possessions searched was very much on everypony's mind, and they couldn't be found carrying direct missives from Canterlot. But some writings required further study, and so Twilight secured her copied notebook scraps as best she could.

She checked on the mane bow. The illusion perfectly concealed her horn from sight, and even added a normal ripple of fur to that part of her forehead: something which moved in concert with the strands around it. And the magic still concealed a partial corona, which was enough to let her do some basic manipulation and minor spell effects -- but any efforts beyond that would quite literally shine through.

It also doesn't prevent any unicorns in the area from picking up on active casting.

However, using feel to pick up on the resonance and residue of other workings... that would be safe enough. She just had to be very, very careful about everything else.

Normal pegasus.

It was almost a new mantra, and she kept an eye on it accordingly. The words couldn't be allowed to drop too deep.

Normal pegasus.

After a moment of thought, she upgraded that to 'Normal pegasus wearing a hat which ties under the chin.' (With a Fluttershy-provided slipknot, just in case.) Everypony else made sure they were fully dressed, with marks covered. Fluttershy's dry fur didn't stain her outfit, although part of that might have been for lack of clean square hoofwidths to discolor.

And they waited.

The estimated time of arrival came.
It hung around for a while, awkwardly moving about the campsite while poking the rocks which ringed the cleared fire pit.
Then it muttered to itself, shrugged, and shuffled off into the night.

The group had a few extra minutes. They used them for further review. Discussing contingencies.

When the first extra hour ran out, they began to face the necessity of sleep. The preference had been for everypony to be awake and alert, but... it was getting late, and rest was required. Watch shifts were arranged, and Fluttershy settled back into position at the tent's entrance. Waiting out the initial allotment.

Twilight wound up having a few initial issues in falling asleep. There was a certain amount of blocking irritation present, and it all came back immediately when Fluttershy woke her up.

"Nothing?"

"...no..."

And then she was posted within the watch area, staring out into the humid night and fuming about how utterly inconsiderate some ponies were regarding keeping appointments which hadn't even been truly made...

The night wore on.

...oh. Right. That was probably it. The night. Whoever had received the proximity alert in the community had probably decided that any intruders detected in movement at that hour were probably going to stop moving for the evening. And the overnight. So even in a jungle which seemed to completely lack a monster population, the safe thing to do was wait for dawn and then go intercept intruders who weren't going to be leaving until morning anyway.

It was the practical solution, really.

Practical, but completely discourteous.

She said as much to Applejack when they were changing shifts, in exacting detail. The farmer yawned through most of it.

---

It had been roughly an hour since Sun-raising, and three mares were packing up the area around the tent. Very slowly.

Six ears went up. Rotated. Strained towards the sounds made by approaching hooves --

Act natural.
...let's just add that to Pinkie's oxymoron list --

-- and then the ponies came out of the treeline.

---

Later on, when she'd had a little more of a chance to learn about what they were dealing with, Twilight would think about plays.

That was how Spike had described the lilac mare's speech: as coming from somepony who'd been swapped into a performance at the last minute, without having fully memorized the lines. (Her little brother loved the theater, and its terms had become a natural part of his vocabulary.) And there were times during that first meeting when she could see it.

The hesitations... it wasn't like Fluttershy, where the majority of sentences effectively faded in and sometimes faded out. These pauses could turn up in the middle of a sentence. Stop: consider the word which is about to be used. Think of an alternative. Weigh them against each other. Evaluate, because you only get to say this once and after that, you'll have to backtrack.

She couldn't find an accent in the mare's voice and as it ultimately turned out, there were two available. (The more recent was currently under construction, and the unicorn was mostly participating in the occasional trials because the community had decided to attempt something new.) But when it came to the lack of identifying tones -- that, too, could be said to spring from the stage. Speak neutrally, and perhaps everypony in the audience could try to hear you as one of their own. It had just gone too far.

Spike had spoken of prompt boxes. Twilight felt it was closer to note cards. The unicorn had some idea of what she wanted to provide in a speech and had recorded all of the details, but...

...the lathe which turned against the unicorn's words in the face of the new... it ground slowly. But this was a stage of sorts. Open-air theater. A performance. And they were in attendance at the second show.

Just about everypony could find some benefit in a dress rehearsal.

---

Twilight was the first to turn as the community's representatives emerged from the rain forest.

They're doing it the same way.

It was just as Spike had told them. A dozen fully-dressed ponies. One unicorn mare out in front, fur and form exposed to the world. And with Twilight as the first to turn...

Their eyes met.

The lilac mare didn't exactly hold the gaze, nor did she place herself within the moment and lock in. Instead, she kept looking at Twilight because... Twilight was in front of her, and that gave her something to look at.

But Twilight could look back. And more.

Her face...
...you're right, Spike. I can't tell how old she is. And it's -- hard to focus.
There's magic lingering around her. Almost as if she's in the center of a fog. Nothing feels active, but... it's like a miasma of residue, as if she was doing a lot of casting before she reached us and nothing had the chance to fully dissipate yet.

She'd been told what the unicorn looked like. The too-basic outfits worn by those behind their leader -- those registered, but not on a conscious level. Twilight had just noticed the mare's saddlebags. They were small and, at first glance, rather plain.

Focus.

...no. They were old. Repeatedly patched, and that had been done in such a way as to make the patches just about the whole of it. Repairs smoothly blended into each other, making it difficult to tell just when any given portion had been applied. It was a pair of saddlebags which was being kept alive in defiance of time.

And they weren't entirely plain. There was a faded pattern of color on what might have been the last original piece left. Orange, yellow, white --

-- the unicorn made a decision to blink.

"Welcome," the unicorn stated: her tail executed a partial swish about half a beat behind the word. "I'm so pleased to have you here."

And behind her, a dozen ponies broke into a brief dance step of "Welcome!"

A decidedly shy "...hello," emerged from the vicinity of the tent. "...we -- weren't expecting to find other ponies out here..."

"And yet," the unicorn decided, pitching her voice to aim for the theater's cheaper benches, "you have."

Is this a monster?

She didn't like the thought. There were still 'safe' possibilities, and the sick colony was high on that list. But Spike had told her everything he'd felt in the presence of this mare and in doing so, he'd passed the thought along.

She didn't like the question. But it was there.

"Are you explorers?" the unicorn abruptly asked, because the first show had provided her with a feed line and nopony had spoken it yet. "That would certainly be a reason for your presence in this area."

Twilight braced herself.

She carried her friends with her, bound to her soul, and that would be true for as long as she lived. But she still wasn't entirely sure how that worked. In particular, she didn't know if the aspects were truly aware of anything. For all she knew, they weren't even conscious of each other. But when she was placed in a situation where she had to lie...

Be careful. Rarity wouldn't have given names for us unless there was -- no other choice. Not when we don't have any way of learning what she said. So it's probably safe to introduce ourselves, but we can't know. And we know what her alias is, but the others are a problem...

She didn't know if the aspects were aware of each other. But within her imagination, a miniature Applejack glared at an equally-downscaled Rarity, and furious tails began to lash.

I don't feel like I'm a good liar.
There was just the one play, and I think ponies mostly stomped for us because it was Hearth's Warning Eve and you mostly stomp because everypony on stage survived.

She wasn't sure about her ability to lie.

But she knew how to lecture.

"We came to learn," Twilight politely said. "Because one could describe explorers as students of the world."

The unicorn's head tilted very slightly to the left.

"That is -- an interesting perspective," she concluded.

"And just now," Twilight added, "we learned that there are at least thirteen ponies in the vicinity of Mount Llanero." Only one of whom currently gets to do the talking. "Which comes as something of a surprise, but -- it's a welcome one."

"Explorers," the unicorn appeared to consider, and her gaze jumped left. Looking in the rough direction of somepony who was behind Twilight. "Something which might require specialties in the sciences --"

"-- I'm an agronomist," declared a strong Manehattan accent.

Brace for it...

There was an extended pause.

"That," the mare said, "is a very rare field of study."

"Well, you know how it is in a new region," Applejack breezily said. "You have to know what nature is doing on its own before you can really consider how the Effect might work in. So, just by way of example, around here -- I've been keeping a close eye on the aflisol. Obviously we're not going to get andisol with the way the local geography lined up, but I've seen enough native sugarcane to make plans for the baggase. You always get baggase if you process the crop properly. And in a rainforest -- the capillary fringe is just about right up to the top, isn't it? And you've got so much humus, it's forming a natural mulch. There's a lot of factors to consider before anypony just starts casually modifying for an agroecosystem!"

Twelve poorly-dressed, lightly-stunned ponies collectively managed to blink.

It's not lying.
It's how she phrases it.

"Rare," the mare finally said, "but not unknown."

Her horn ignited, and Twilight steadfastly failed to have any visible reaction to the color. The left saddlebag opened...

That notebook is...

For most ponies, 'loved' would have been the right word. Twilight believed in keeping books pristine, because that was how you displayed respect and a willingness to be careful. But books could be read in privacy and safety, while a notebook was out there in the world. Brought into all sorts of environments, while in active use. Eventually, they filled up, and...

...how thick is that?

She couldn't tell. Twilight simply registered all of the reinforcements on the spine, fighting to keep the pages together on a level which Mrs. Bradel's shop would have been hard-pressed to match and recognized that most ponies would have copied out their writings well in advance of any inevitable self-destruct -- but this mare had decided to keep going with the same notebook.

It opened. Ink came out of the saddlebag. A quill followed, was dipped into a smoothly-opened bottle, and jotted down a few words.

"We can discuss other specialties later," the unicorn decided, and the bottle resealed itself accordingly. "This is a wild zone. A foreign one. You all look as if you would benefit from a place of safety." Her attention jumped back to Twilight. "Especially you. Describe the wing injury."

"Strain, mostly," Twilight replied. "Added to a bad landing from a few days back."

"Severe enough to be bandaged," the mare observed. "Which would indicate an inability to fly."

Twilight nodded.

"Then you need a chance to rest," the lilac unicorn said. "Recover. And at the very least, wash up."

"We'd appreciate that," Applejack presumably smiled. "But we don't want to impose, either. Can you host ponies, without hurting your own resources? Just being out here, when there's so few of you -- that could be enough of a struggle without bringing in anypony else."

A smile appeared on the mare's face.

"There's more than a few of us," she pushed through the words. "We are a community."

"We'd be so happy to have you!" declared the off-white pegasus mare at the far left. "It's not imposing! It's giving us a chance to offer welcome!"

"And you could stay for a little while," was merrily contributed by a red earth pony stallion. "Enough time to heal, at the very least."

"...if you're sure..." Fluttershy timidly checked.

"I'm sure," the lilac mare stated, "that you're safer with us." Internal note cards were sorted. "And you are explorers. Who have found something new. Failure to quantify the discovery would be -- bad science."

Awkward.
Better than Spike described her, but -- not by much. Clearly not good in social situations. Not quite making eye contact properly, not moving right, with her tones sort of off...
...please tell me I wasn't this bad...

"Will, you come with us?" asked a mauve pegasus mare. "Please?"

"We can," Applejack told the group. "But you caught us at an awkward moment. Can you give us a few minutes to finish breaking down our camp?"

"It'll go faster if we help!" the red stallion decided, and did so as he began to trot forward. Eleven other equally ill-outfitted ponies were just about directly behind his dock --

"-- we appreciate the offer," Twilight told them. "But it's one of those campsites." With a rueful little shrug, "You know how it goes. If you don't do everything in exactly the right order, then you get corners jamming against your saddlebags. And then you get holes, followed by rents..."

The herd paused. Looked at the lilac mare, and did so as one.

Don't move.
Don't try to get in their way.
See what she does.

"Doing things in the proper order," the unicorn determined, "can be crucial. And those who understand that order should be the ones enforcing it."

Which, when translated into some form of Equestrian, made the herd take a collective step back.

The mares packed.

---

It took some time to get everything put away. The most complicated part came from a single loose thick rolled-up ground pad, as the last thing to be removed from the tent. It sat on the ground waiting for them to get around to it, and then it had to be awkwardly nosed up Applejack's flanks and carefully balanced across her back. Twilight had been dreading having anypony offer to help with that, but -- nopony stepped forward, and the lilac mare's horn remained dark.

Twilight had to nose it up on her own, as Fluttershy happened to be very busy with standing between Twilight and everypony else. Blocking as many sight lines as she could. Because Luna's illusions were expert, did their best to keep up with everything in realtime and so the pad creased as it should across Applejack's strong back -- but nopony needed to see those moments when Twilight pushed a little too hard and had her snout go through.

The ground pad did its best not to twitch.

The three mares finished, and took a collective look around. Double-checking their campsite, as thirteen ponies waited on them.

"Are we okay to go?" Applejack asked.

"I'd say so," Twilight decided. "You know the rule. Leave it as we found it, as much as we can."

"...yes," agreed the jungle-green pegasus. "We're okay."

We aren't.
We're not going to be okay until we're back together with everypony. And they're healthy.
Intact.
Unchanged.
But this is how we start.

Twilight glanced over at the lilac mare.

"You know the way," she said.

That got her a nod. "Yes."

The leader turned, with the majority of her body operating in rough synch with itself: the tail had a bit of lag. Began to move across dark soil, and the herd -- held position. Waiting for the explorers to fall in behind her.

So they did. One unicorn, followed by pegasi and an earth pony, with a herd trailing behind.

The false pegasus was the closest to the unicorn. Not quite at her side, but not allowing her to take the full lead. Being guided, and no more.

"I didn't hear your name," Twilight observed.

Several hoofsteps passed.

"I didn't say it."

...right. "May I know your name?"

"My name is Starlight," the lilac mare calmly stated. "You should think of me as a friend."

And Twilight did her best to smile.

Maybe you are.
Maybe you're the doctor. Researcher. The one looking for the answer.
Maybe you're the cause.
If you've hurt them...
If you've...
I'll --

No Bearer had ever knowingly killed.

Twilight didn't know if she had it in her to kill.

But then, she might have already done it once.

Comments

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

At first I was "Why are they dyeing Fluttershy?" Took me a moment to remember she'd been a very famous model. They can't take the chance that she'll be recognized.

Hope that Spike's disguise holds up under the dome. DAMN awkward if it doesn't.

[badninja]

Ouch that bit at the end is kinda dark. I hope Twilight can dodge making that call but we know something bad is going to happen here.

[LNMAnonymous]

When is the time she might have killed again? I'm sorry, it's been a while and I have trouble remembering.

[Gazer]

11735303
It was in Triptych. We never really found out what happened to Quiet.

[LNMAnonymous]

11735315
Oh I thought I remembered him getting away

[DreadedCandiru2]

The biological life forms might come back from this. The ponies and dragon probably won't. This will change them forever.

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

11735326
Well, they never found his body
So, maybe he did.

[Aotrs Commander]

👍

[Lurks-no-More]

Welcome to Uncanny Valley, population Starlight and the cult.

AJ's definitely looked into agronomy, I see! Let's hope things don't collapse once the two teams meet one another...

[Lionpaw315]

I'm getting more "Starlight isn't a pony" vibes than ever now...

[Ninjuto]

Man this story is really good at giving me anxiety. I really need the group to all assemble just to have peace of mind.

Also Applejack talking about Snowflake just reminded me that Fluttershy doesn't have Fleur in the main universe

[Harwick]

The show really annoyed me with the gradual decline in Twilight’s character as they emphasized her neuroses until she was panicking under pressure by the late seasons. WhatI really enjoy about your writing is how you can explore those tendencies in her inner thoughts while still allowing Twilight to be an effective and decisive leader. She will beat herself up with each seemingly wrong decision she makes, especially depending on how it affects the others, but she has not been paralyzed by her self doubt as a default setting, as she seemed to be on the show.

As such, there’s a thrill as she and Glimmer finally lay eyes on each other and the mental calculations begin, because I have great confidence in Twilight, even as you have built up Glimmer as a terrifying figure holding all the cards.

Go get her, Twi.

[erictheblue]

Act natural.
...let's just add that to Pinkie's oxymoron list --

[new55]

That was a good chapter goodluck with the next one.

[Reese]

"there are least thirteen ponies in"
"there are at least thirteen ponies in"?

Thanks for writing!

[SilverShadow1711]

Damn it, you've already managed to coax a few tears out of me and I know this is just the start. Thankfully, the tears were quickly stopped by the metaphorical cinching of an iron band around my stomach because there is NO author who instills in me a tangible sense of dread more than you do.

[Purple Seacow]

So I guess this is Applejack getting the chance to get some use out of her new branch of study, very practical.

[UrsaMajor]

The players are in their places. Now the horror can begin.