Glimmer

by Estee

Static Analysis

The implications didn't shatter across her thoughts immediately.

She was tired. The stress of separation, something which had been with her during every waking hour in the rainforest while insisting upon manifesting during most of the sleeping ones... it had drained Twilight at every opportunity. Simply having everypony back together had removed that particular anxiety, but full recovery wasn't going to be instant. She needed sleep. Also, she needed to figure out what was going on with the 'community', there was a certain need to solve everything, the lockdown probably had to be broken well before that, it would be nice if she could stop feeling shaken every ten minutes, the rest of the emotional turmoil could depart at any time and frankly, as long as Twilight was creating the checklist, it really would have done at least a little to quiet her OCD if she could just find a method of stealthily tilting their assigned residence back the other way.

So the possible connection didn't kick her at the moment Applejack said the words. It sunk past her ears, made its way into her brain, then spent some productive time in rummaging through her subconscious. And while it was doing that, Twilight busied herself with some of the smaller details.

She checked their quarters, made sure none of the more suspect items from their inventory had been touched. And once that was verified, she began to look for better places to hide them.

The copied fragments of notes were easy. The mission still required them to be constantly dressed while in public and when it came to Truedawn, the only thing keeping them from fitting right in was that it was possible to distinguish the group's clothing from roughly-stitched tubes. Securing the little bits of paper within whatever she would wear on any given day... that wasn't a problem. But the intended means of signaling the palace were exponentially larger, and when it came to the translator...

Twilight wasn't exactly happy about concealing one of the rarest devices in the world within the straw ticking of a poorly-built mattress. It just felt undignified, along with being completely disrespectful to the translator's station. But under one of the other hooves, it meant anypony trying to reach it during the night quite literally had to get past her first. And it wasn't as if it could make the bedding any less comfortable.

...she still needed something more secure.

The sketch of what the partial teleportation rod might have looked like when whole... she found a site for that, and did so while making herself work by mouth. It was another kind of practice, although she still found herself annoyed when the upper edge of the paper wound up slightly damp.

Eventually, Twilight dressed for bed. (It was possible that something might happen during the night, and stalling long enough to hide her mark again was going to create issues. For similar reasons, she had to leave the mane bow in, and was starting to worry about having her hair becoming tangled in the knot.) Resolved to sleep on top of the sheets, because it was this hemisphere's summer and the house...

...it didn't feel like pegasus thermal sealing would have been all that much to ask for. Truedawn was effectively surrounded by magic. Surely somepony could have spared a little for the interior. But all they had was a basic clockwork fan, and Twilight was going to leave that unwound. Getting the blades turning seemed to be the best way of having everything fall on them.

It would have been 'them'. Twilight's efforts had taken long enough for Fluttershy's mark-gifted endurance to flag, and the caretaker was already curled up atop her own bed. The tail combs were still in place.

The librarian climbed up to the vacant surface, tried to find the least scratchy position available, and closed her eyes.

Nothing happened.

Sleep.

Just sleep.

...is there an earth pony tool which very, very slightly softens rocks? Because that would go a long way towards explaining this pillow -- no. Wait. This 'pillow' --

-- shut up, brain...

...maybe I should stay up. Keep an eye on the other houses. Except that we all have to be at our best tomorrow and from Rarity said, I can't watch their assigned places from here anyway. Too much separation.

Note to self: spell for viewing multiple locations at once. Add it to the list.

...how would that even work?

...can't create a portal into the between for longer than it takes to enter and exit. No guarantee that I could keep two or more open simultaneously, much less look across the distance between them...

...brain...

...I'll see them at breakfast tomorrow. Believe that. Besides, gathering for breakfast might save us from having the community serve it. (Her stomach twinged. The rest of her digestive system offered moral support.) But we still have to eat. So where do we get food? Could we just ask for something from the crops and prepare it ourselves? I don't think we passed a store, but there has to be something...

...restaurant?

Which would mean ponies are trying out running a restaurant. Probably with about the same degree of success as they're having at making beds.

Stupid bed.

...well, it can't be worse than Mr. Flankington's. And besides, somepony here must know how to cook.

(Spike usually cooked for both siblings. When it came to her own efforts, Twilight felt that any food which required more time to prepare than consume was keeping her away from something.)

So if we can find a restaurant...

...how do we pay?

They'd been issued some of the local currency for the regional nations: the Princesses had possessed no way of knowing where the teleport would bring the group, and had covered both major options accordingly. There were also Royal Vouchers (now hidden) for an emergency, but that was something else which identified the group as having been sent by the palace -- and besides, there was no guarantee of having them honored. And they had a few bits.

Maybe Truedawn takes bits.
Maybe they're on their own currency system.
...I wonder what the exchange rate is like --
-- oh, come on, brain. I just want to --

-- explorers.

Twilight opened her eyes. It was a prerequisite for blinking.

Slowly, she made her way down from the bed, moving as silently as she could manage: Fluttershy needed rest. The uneven floor fought her every hoofstep of the way.

The false pegasus made her way down to what, for lack of a better term, was probably meant to serve as a living room. It was a path which took her past a motivational poster and for the first time, she truly looked at the wording.

One Voice.

Then she wondered what it truly meant.

When I was a filly...
...no. Focus.
Explorers...

A quick side trip found her riffling through the cabinets, still working by mouth. The majority were empty. A very few held basic tools, likely left behind by those who'd (poorly) put the place together. And two drawers below the oversized hoof-hammer shoes...

Good.

She couldn't use the living room for pacing in a circle. There was a chance that the repetitive sounds would wake Fluttershy. Also, she'd gotten a good look at the wood and knew it would wear away far too quickly. Plus the more she moved, the better her chances of taking a splinter to one of her frogs. But she needed to give her body something to do while the mind operated and as long as Twilight was awake, she was going to smooth something.

The scavenged, underutilized sandpaper was carefully pressed between scrapcloth-shielded hoof and wood: she didn't need to rasp away any of her own keratin.

Twilight began to work.

Explorers...

There were ways in which the manifestation of the mark represented a new beginning for a pony's life. The appearance of an explorer's icon meant the end of a normal one.

How did you get that kind of mark? There were certain personality traits which came into play. Most fillies and colts had that early period of intense curiosity: how does this work, why aren't I allowed to do that --

-- where do alicorns come from --

-- and for the destined, the most important foal question on the list would be What's Over There? They would try to visit every last square hoofwidth of their settled zone. And where others would eventually stop at the edge of the fringe, because everything beyond was supposed to be unnatural -- a very few would keep going. Over and over again. No matter what happened to them during the first few attempts, because the important thing was that there was something out there which just about nopony had seen and therefore, there had to be something special about being among the very few.

Their parents would usually, desperately wish for them to stop. The young would decide that a much better way to assuage adult worries was through going into the wild zone with better equipment. Besides, as long as they survived, then they'd won.

Eventually, being among the few wouldn't be enough any more. The desire magnified, threatened to overflow into obsession. They would choose a new goal: to be the first.

And for those whose flanks blazed...

It was a life mostly spent outside the settled zones. They would come in to report, resupply, take time for wounds to heal, sell a few discoveries, write papers about others. But then they would go back out there, because that was what the mark desired. After all, the planet was hardly going to explore itself.

Sometimes they went off on their own (and when that happened, they rarely told anypony where they were headed), but -- it helped to have somepony paying the bills. Not every discovery led to profit, and being out there for the sheer joy of it created certain issues in replacing supplies.

A few dealt with the issue through mastering the art of the high-speed jaw-snatch-and-gallop, and would practice it in places where they were the first pony anyone had ever met. For the explorer, success gained immediate benefits. Anypony who followed them in would usually have to clear up some truly bad first impressions.

Others sought sponsors: coming back to civilization after a success granted the chance to find new ones. Governments hired a few, and there were always private businesses hoping to learn the location of fresh resources. It was possible for an explorer to make a good living, especially if they did come across something which could be sold. They also had a deep-seating loathing of exchange rates, and occasionally grumbled about having to periodically return just so they could use a proper bank.

They could be compared to weather surveyors, only with very little ability to work within established borders. Some surveyors could content themselves for a time in charting the patterns of a settled zone, seeing what had to be shored up and where. An explorer could enter a new city, trot down every street, check out the interesting shops, and be satisfied -- for, at best, about three days. The need to see, discover, and be the first to the new had become the focal point of their lives. And for the rest of Equestria, which largely consisted of ponies who hardly ever ventured outside their own settled zones, had a few who were reluctant to even board a train, and who generally preferred tomorrow to be very much like today... it made them strange.

Almost... alien.

Their most frequent associations were with each other -- and that was in spite of a rather significant, inherent obstacle. Explorers tended to perceive anypony else with an appropriate icon as a rival. They all shared that drive to be first and if somepony was going to be first, then whoever came after them would be no better than second. Competitions could become fierce. A touch of delay-inducing sabotage was perceived as a side sport and besides, a truly skilled explorer would have been on the lookout. Explorers didn't necessarily like one another, especially on first meeting. The most common reaction to coming across one of their fellows, if given a minor emotional muting, could be described as Frustration At First Sight. It frequently got worse from there.

They hardly ever liked one another, at least during those initial encounters. But for those who kept galloping into each other, somehow finding ways to repeatedly intersect across the non-trails of a planet -- there was the chance for the emotions to deepen. Change. Invert. And a very few would turn 'I need to be first' into 'We'.

Explorers, when they fell in love, most typically did so with other explorers. They might develop feelings for those in other professions, but -- it was understood that asking another pony to come on the endless journey with them represented an almost impossible level of commitment. And for those who had come to love the explorer, who felt they could stay behind and still make it work -- any such mate might spend a lot of time waiting for their partner to come home.

Moons.
Years.
-- Scootaloo's been waiting for years --
And some of them never came back at all.

(The first patch of floor had been smoothed. Twilight turned her attention towards a stake trap writ in miniature.)

So they tended to pair up. Who else would come on the road with them? As much to the point: how many would be willing to stay at their side once the roads vanished?

Imagine a married couple...

It was basic math. Two could face the dangers of the wild more readily than one. Guard each other's tails during the day, stay warm at night.

Enough of those nights, and the total just might move to three.

Scootaloo came into the library and asked me to help her find a place. Somewhere I'd barely heard of. It took an hour just to locate it on a map.

Akhal-Tekes.

I still don't know much of anything about it.

I asked her why she'd wanted to find it.

And she told me it was where she'd been born.

There were herbs which helped to prevent pregnancy. Potions. But nothing was completely reliable and for those who constantly traveled, supplies could run low.

Then they ran out.

Could it be said that pregnancy for an explorer was... irresponsible? Because they were still out in the wild, and now they would be risking two lives. Perhaps Mane Allgood had pushed herself into returning to civilization, and Akhal-Tekes had simply been the nearest beacon of safety. Staying there until her gravid state ended in the best possible way, and a new life was brought into the world.

Born in Akhal-Tekes. Had Gentle Arrival ever gone that far outside the borders?

Applejack said Scootaloo's created dust devils, almost by accident.

No hybrid is strong in the magic of their birth race.

Staying in a foreign land, trying to provide an unborn foal with their best chance -- that was one option. Or perhaps her parents had remained in the wild from the first day until the last, with the mysterious city as the nearest place available for washing off birth muck.

And what happened after she was born?

Because trying to push through a wild zone's undergrowth with a foal in one saddlebag and monsters close behind was, put mildly, ill-advised.

The last notes of a closing outdoor concert forced their way through the walls. Her ears didn't come up again until the final echoes departed.

I talked to Applejack.

At one point, Scootaloo was saying she had aunts. Lofty is the blood relative: Holiday is her spouse. And they supposedly live gallops and gallops away. She claimed they visited a few times. But the police are still trying to find them.

Maybe they don't exist. One more lie to keep ponies from thinking she was alone.
Maybe they don't live in Equestria.

...who raised Scootaloo in the first few years of her life?

Where?

Had the parents forced themselves to settle down for a time? A newborn foal took over all the priorities. They would have needed a place to stay. Access to regular pediatrician services. Schools.

A house...

...at some point, they managed to get that mortgage. And I don't think real estate agencies have a lot of range. Their own settled zone, or maybe one over. So they were at least in Canterlot at some point, for more than mailing a voucher. More likely in Ponyville.

But if the aunts existed, then they might have been Scootaloo's first custodians. Because you couldn't bring somepony that young out into the unknown --

-- could you?

If pregnancy itself could be seen as irresponsible for an explorer, then how did you describe the act of trying to raise a foal in the wild?

...I don't know.
I can't know.
Not yet.
Keep thinking.

(The tiny stakes were gone. She came within a split-second of igniting her horn to check under the furniture, then sighed and got her shoulders into the shove. It wasn't doing much. The base of the rough couch failed to squeal against the wood and, for the most part, also failed to shift.)

They might have tried to raise her themselves, in civilization. But in doing so...

The same views every day. The same streets. The same everything.

They could try to settle down. But the mark could not be denied.

Destiny.
Or what we tell ourselves is destiny.
When I was a filly...

To keep somepony from practicing their talent for extended periods of time... there was a price for that. Even prisons were generally reluctant to see their charges pay it -- at least for those talents which were considered safe. An incarcerated weaver would be given some weekly time with a loom, generally under the comforting knowledge that not only were the window bars far too close together for squeezing a pony body through, but it was rather hard to bite your way down an escape rope.

It's a balancing act, isn't it?
Practice your talent too much, and you could become one of the fallen.
If you're prevented from practicing it at all... the urges can build. Threaten to take over. Turn into obsession, until you need to act. Until you can barely think about anything else.
And if you somehow turn away from your own mark, force yourself off the path...

...Gentle Arrival. Whose mark had been for protecting, guiding, and loving his offspring -- and found himself unable to truly love an earth pony daughter. Not unless he could render her into something else. And even then, it could be argued that he hadn't been able to completely escape himself.

What did Pinkie say to me?

"Can you imagine how much love he should have had for her, for all of us to get some? I was his experiment, Twilight, I know that... but I still feel like he loved me."

Maybe he did.

I don't think it was pure love. More like a first-time pet owner. A pretty bad one, who doesn't understand that training is required and you can't just yell at them when they do something you don't like. You need to be patient. To teach. To forgive. And I saw what he did at the end. How he broke. If you don't do exactly what he wants, every time...

But he still looked for Pinkie after she ran away. Stayed with her for days once he found her, accompanying her through the wild zone until they reached Ponyville. Making sure she was safe. And then he brought her to the Cakes.

It could be protecting the most unique of the 'experiments'. The one he never repeated.

Or maybe... there was some kind of love.

She wanted to believe the worst of him. It was what he deserved.

But without him, Pinkie wouldn't be alive --

-- focus.
...if I tried to tap into Applejack's aspect, would I get any physical strength to come with it? Because that might help with shoving this furniture. But I haven't exactly picked up any mass during any of the other times. Maybe earth pony muscles are just constructed differently. More efficient.
...focus...

Snap Shutter and Mane Allgood, with a daughter to raise...

They could have gone into the settled zones. Forced themselves to stay for a time. But if that time had to be for the full duration of Scootaloo's youth, until she became an adult and truly took over her own life --

-- no.

They could have tried to sublimate. Hiring a foalsitter while they took a few hours in the Everfree, or the local equivalent. Maybe that would have helped for a while. But I don't think it would have held up for several years. The mark wants what it wants --

-- so what had their choices truly been?

Turn fully against themselves, with all of the horrors which could result.

Find somepony else who could take custody. Just about permanently. Visit every so often, but -- that would be it. Drop-in parents. They might see their daughter for a day, week, moon, or perhaps even a summer. But eventually, they would have to get back out there. Because a marked explorer would pay a price for staying in one place forever, and the first collection would be taken from their sanity.

Or bring a filly into the wild. Over and over. Surely their luck would hold, right up until the moment when it didn't.

-- the mark wants --

(She needed a fresh sheet of sandpaper. Then she needed another one. Some time was taken for wondering why they'd even brought in sandpaper if they were so bad about actually using it.)

I need a timeline.

Not without irony, I need Scootaloo. (It wasn't the most common of thoughts.) She could tell me when the first voucher came in. That's potentially the most crucial point, isn't it? It shows when her parents... weren't coming back. Applejack may not have the exact date.

Just about every theory began with observation and free thinking...

...Starlight said she was the first one in. Let's say she's telling the truth. It makes her into the community's founder.

According to Pinkie, Truedawn has been here for at least a few years. If I had a timeline, I could try to match that to whenever Scootaloo's parents went missing.

(How old was Starlight?)

We don't know why the place was founded. It could be as a haven. Somewhere to research and treat a disease, or -- to explore a... different way of life. And if it's the first... where are the doctors? It can't just be Starlight. Unless she's the first one who learned of it, and she's that frightened of how everypony else would respond --

-- she could be a doctor.

Her mark is so abstract. She could be anything.

Learn the talent, and maybe the mark would make sense.

As a physician, it still leaves her operating alone as the lone researcher and hope for a sick colony. And if you assume a group of ponies who found a way to truly swap marks...
...create new ones?
...take them away?
...then is she still the founder? The one who discovered the means, wanted to try it, and convinced others to do the same? Because she's the only local going around with a normal, visible mark. And maybe that's because she's the designated point of contact for new arrivals. Something familiar.
Or maybe she was just the first one here.

Let's say... that the explorers she met were Scootaloo's parents.

"The outcome was mutually favorable."

Whether it's a disease or -- community... there's one need which would have been the same.

Was that how it started? She meets them. They start talking, because -- it's an opportunity for education. And maybe more. They start to see her as a friend...

She could have hired them directly. Or asked a favor: that they keep an eye out during their normal travels, and just let her know if they come across what she needs.

And what does she need?

If she's trying to work in relative isolation, then she needs a place to work.

Think about the requirements for a settled zone. Ideally, you need a defensible position. Vanhoover has the ocean on one side and mountains on the other three. Canterlot's got sheer altitude and a hard approach path on hoof. With a faint smile, Ponyville's main defense would be 'The capital's right over there.' I don't think the Princess would have given Granny Smith the first grant of land without that. But in terms of physical defenses, we're the exception.

The tepui blocks off one approach vector. Thoughtfully, And maybe that sort-of trail up to the cave is meant as an emergency evacuation path? But there's more requirements than that. You need a clean water supply. Soil isn't much of a factor, because the Cornucopia Effect --

-- okay: this time, getting the right soil is important. But we know they've managed to make the land produce. And normally, even when you were opening a brand-new settled zone, you would need some reliable means of reaching the old ones. Because that's how you bring in supplies -- but when the teleportation rods are factored in...

Something isolated. Somewhere ponies, and the other sapient species, are unlikely to stumble across.

But there's been someone out here before. If no one had ever looked at this area, then the tepui wouldn't be on a map. This is a place where almost no one goes, and she might have been worried about having exceptions trot in.

So add the shield. That keeps the wild zone out, and the illusion factor means they can't be spotted by anything in the air.

It's not a perfect defense, especially if you get somepony who can feel or counter the magic. And someone else might recognize that their feelings were being imposed from the outside: once you've got that, it's not always impossible to will your way forward. A non-pony usually couldn't get through the shield, but they might be able to come right up to the edge. And then they'd be able to report back.

How would the local nations feel about ponies setting up a... community -- in their territory?

Starlight has a way to know when somepony gets close. A working which serves for proximity detection.

...almost out of sandpaper...

...so what would happen if a local approached? She goes out with a group to meet them? Redirects? But with ponies, she brings them in. (It hadn't exactly been an invitation.) But it's a big rainforest, and I don't know what the radius is on the detection. What happens if someone gets close without coming near one of the stones?

She didn't know.

I'm guessing on all of this. A theory can be guesswork waiting to meet the first piece of evidence which proves it wrong. But it's at least possible. She meets explorers, and... they're the ones who found this site.

"Any such circumstance should be exploited for reciprocal benefit."

Or maybe there's another factor.

Explorers find the new. Species, magic, locations, and -- disease. If it's an illness, then maybe they were the first ones to get sick. And they just happen to meet Starlight, who's willing to do everything she can to help them. So that's the reciprocal part. They gain the hope for a cure, and she can be the one who creates it.

...which really brings up the question of how this thing spreads. An explorer could stumble into something nopony's ever seen before. But if it's a disease -- then we've pretty much proven it can't spread by breath. Blood contact is possible, but -- look at how many ponies are here. If it started with Scootaloo's parents, then they'd almost have to go around bleeding on ponies intentionally.

...food? They ate something new, and...

The little mare stopped moving.

Somepony brought us dinner.

Her ribs began to heave. Wings attempted to flare, with the bandaged one testing the strength of the wrapping --

-- breathe...
...breathe...

Her right foreleg came up. Touched the sternum, gestured outwards, repeated the movement.

...most of it was recognizable. There were some unfamiliar things, but it was all fruits and vegetables which we've seen growing in the area. Variations on what we know, along with a few species which earth ponies raise for specialty stores. And some new things. Maybe there's something edible here which does it, but...

...on purpose?
Would anypony just infect --

The movement accelerated. Her right foreknee was starting to hurt --

-- breathe --
-- breathe...
...breathe...
...don't faint...
...just... be very careful about what we eat.

(Maybe it was already too late.)

...and warn the others.
Oh, Sun and Moon...
Discord's swaying tail, what if we're --

Her head automatically turned, and frantic eyes sought out her left hip --

-- the fur of the mark was placid. Steady. None of the colors were currently sending up tendrils of false steam. She was almost sure that nothing had already evaporated, but her vision seemed to be going grey at the edges while her heartbeat fluttered and she needed to see --

She curled her body, trying to get a better look, and did so while the right foreleg was still gesturing.

Three braced legs, on a quadruped, was generally enough to provide stability.

Generally.

Eventually, Twilight picked herself back up. Glanced towards the ramp, verified that the little crash hadn't woken Fluttershy, and briefly congratulated herself on having smoothed the floor in advance. Not that she'd been planning to nearly faint, but at least she hadn't picked up any splinters along the way.

...well, the librarian forced herself to think, that would almost guarantee the Princesses are safe. We just have to guard the royal kitchens. Darkly, And if they somehow wind up coming here? No snacks.

She was presuming. Choosing to believe that somepony had both found the vector and was willing to use it as a weapon -- or to create additional research subjects.

Twilight had already met one pony who'd seen no problems with experimenting on others without consent. The experience had left something of an impression.

Don't automatically assume the worst. Think of it, stay on guard against it -- but look for a little proof before believing it.

It was sensible. A fully reasonable approach. It just wasn't doing much to make her heartbeat steady itself.

If I see one sign that we were deliberately --
-- and that's how we find out what would happen if Rainbow shook off all the reins and just went after --
-- that's one way to break our cover, isn't it? 'Do you need any extra researchers?'
Or maybe we'd just --
-- smile...
...something else.
Think of something else.
Anything else --

"They continued the association, of their own will. And the community would be lessened without them."

Oh, good. Her brain was temporarily cooperating.

The little mare carefully lowered herself to the safe patch of floor. Closed her eyes, took three deep breaths before opening them again.

Keep going along the previous line.

If the explorers were Scootaloo's parents -- then they're still associating with Starlight. They see her as a friend. And they're part of the community.

Which means they're in Truedawn.

We can find them.

Her heartbeat steadied, and something deep within began to warm.

We... could give Scootaloo her parents back --

-- slow down. That's the best case. But if it's a disease, and they don't want to come back until it's cured -- then we can at least tell her what happened to them. If it isn't contagious, it might even be possible to bring her here to see them. Either way, she'd know.

Or maybe we could convince the community that we're trying to help. That the palace would send assistance. Extra researchers. They don't have to be afraid of what happens when the truth comes out.

I'm not a biologist or a doctor. But my talent -- my... mark -- is for magic. It doesn't necessarily mean I can help. Unicorn workings: that's where I can try to figure things out. Magical effects created by anything else... that's a lot harder. With some of the things some of the other species do, all I can manage is to watch. And a disease with magical effects, where all of the victims are innocent and that poor stallion... if there's a stage where the mind just says to run and he...

...maybe I could help.
Maybe I can't.
But I could try.

She could.
She wanted to.
But there was a presumption built in.

Except that I'm thinking about a disease.

There's the possibility of conjunction. An illness which does something to the mark. But while it's in effect, those who are sick -- try to live normal lives. Try to explore a new way of life. But if it's something which ponies do to themselves, or have done to them...

...then if all of the previous assumptions about Scootaloo's parents having been the ones who met Starlight held up -- they were still here.

Why?

They had a daughter. Somepony who was waiting for them to come home, who'd spent years in believing that her parents could trot through an open door at any minute. Who'd had... faith. And if they were simply here to explore the idea of life with a different mark, or -- even life without a mark at all --

-- they didn't completely abandon her.
If they'd done that, there wouldn't be vouchers.
...they love her.
They have to love her.
Somepony please tell me they...

But she was alone, and her eyelids slowly drooped. Closed, fought to open again...

...wake-up juice. I should drink some --

The little mare forced herself upright. Went into the kitchen, explored the contents --

-- stupid refrigerator.

Which was unfair. It was functioning, if more unsteadily than Twilight would have liked. It just didn't happen to contain any wake-up juice. And she was tired, worn out from turmoil and reunion and thought, plus the near-faint hadn't exactly helped. She'd planned to start working on getting through the lockdown that night, but her vision was blurred at the edges, she was starting to yawn, and magical experimentation when exhausted was a really bad idea. Especially because trying to go ahead with it in that state could make any further bad ideas feel like good ones.

In the morning.

As soon as I get up.

The little mare slowly turned. Made sure her wings were in a proper rest position, and made her way towards the imperfect ramp.

Try to sleep.

I'll talk to the others. Tell them what I thought of. We'll be careful about what we eat. And we'll try to explore. Look for research facilities. Medical areas. Workshops. Anything which could show us what they're doing here.

We're together.
We're all together again.
As long as we stay together, we'll be okay.

Comments

[TheGJ90]

A lengthy and detailed glimpse into the mind of the overthinking purple pone. Very well written!

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

There were herbs which helped to prevent pregnancy. Potions. But nothing was completely reliable and for those who constantly traveled, supplies could run low.

Christians say even virginity isn't 100% certain

[sockmonkey]

Hmm. Possible benign reason for Scoot's parents to participate would be if they wanted to suppress their marks for long enough to raise her, but then it begs the question of why they didn't come home afterwards.

[Ninjuto]

It's so fascinating reading Twilights POV, especially since we as readers know it's NOT a disease. However that's part of what makes the writing feel so compelling. The characters don't know everything. They're working on their assumptions and limited knowledge and simply acting accordingly. They think it HAS to be a disease because living without a mark runs afoul of their whole existence. It's gonna make the horror when they eventually find out all the more terrifying.

Also, explorer parents abandoning their child because of their mark and talks of a disease? We've come full circle to Mark of Appeal all these years later. Man, now that I think about it, Scootaloo and Joyous would probably be able to have some good talks.

[badninja]

Ouch as a fan of the series I think we all know what they are going to find and it makes you wonder just what Starlight’s end game plan was? Or was this just it she was happy with the town.

[Kiue Jin]

11884768
If I had to guess: Starlight started off questioning what the Mark actually was, why ponies got it and what was the driving force behind its 'will'. At some point, she started to believe the Mark was some kind of parasite and that removing it was for the best.

[wolfstorm56]

11884747
Thought the same thing about Mark of Appeal. Joyous and Scootaloo would have a great conversation.
--
Really dark thoughts here with thinking on Scootaloo's parents and how/why they could have essentially abandoned her. Sad and ironic if they tried to get rid of their talents in order to be able to properly raise their daughter only to get sucked into a cult.

Thank you for the update! 😊

[DreadedCandiru2]

Thinking things through leads to the realization that maybe an end with horror is better than a horror without end.

[Gazer]

I'm guessing the food bit was the idea Twilight inserted? The one Estee didn't plan on?

[Dorath]

We're all together again.
As long as we stay together, we'll be okay.

You'll definitely do better as long as you stay together ... but between Rarity's issues with Trixie, and Trixie and Twilight's own issues, that could be very hard to pull off ....

[Estee]

11884880

Yes, and good call.

...was it that obvious...?

(For those wondering what's going on: in the Patreon post for this chapter, I said that I had a list of things for Twilight to think about -- and she then added one on her own. As has been discussed, give a character a voice and you're that much closer to giving them a mind...)

[Raistlin]

11884730

They likely joined Starlight's experiment for that purpose, but I guess she got her hooks too deeply on them.

Abandoning a cult, specially after years of being indoctrinated, is never easy.

[Gazer]

11885052
Not obvious. It comes across as a random wild thought, which is exactly what you'd get during a late night, sleep deprived, stress out. The fainting bit was spot on, I have done that to myself before. Thanks for answering my question.

[Lionpaw315]

Haven’t read it yet but I just wanna say that every time I see an update for this story, my day gets exponentially better. I check every day; it’s one of the things that I look forward to most

Edit:
I can’t believe you made me go from really wanting to believe the best in scoot’s parents to absolutely hating them to wanting to believe the best (and even kicking a little pity in too) again

[Vinylshadow]

We're together.
We're all together again.
As long as we stay together, we'll be okay.

Wonder when we start the betting pool on who's not going to be staying together by the end of this

Pinkie to teach ponies how to feel again, Rarity to test her burlap ensembles on a reluctant audience, Applejack to tend the land and Fluttershy to integrate the animals
Then Discord shows up because his waifu's missing...

[Actua]

11886044
You've got me wondering what the... Magical Mess this version of Starlight has going on with shields and enchantments might due to Khaos himself.

It's not usually his bag to even acknowledge Cutie Marks but in this particular case I think he'd be rather perturbed. Starlight seems all about imposing "Order" so that "True" freedom can be achieved. And for him this would be a rather strange insult to his statis-quo where he would PREFER it remain untouched. Imagine having to eat your least favorite dish on a near daily basis full well in the knowledge that your supplier, Grimcess et al., is at least competent in its creation...

And now you have to contend with the tortured rejects of a rather psychopathically dedicated amateur who has no nose and half a tongue. It's the sort of dish that has you wishing rather fondly for the culinary endeavors of Mr. Flankington on a BAD night.

[Aotrs Commander]

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