Partition
The simple act of waking felt as if it had put a crack into reality, and Twilight was almost glad for that.
Part of the problem came from a sort of false temporal disorientation. While her group had been in the rainforest, there had been a constant driving goal: find the others. It had provided some needed moments of focus during the near-constant upheavals. And in terms of dealing with all of the environmental changes... she'd thought about her sibling, friends, the mission, the simple fact that they were in a rainforest, and then looped around to the start.
Now she was waking up in (or on) a bed, with a motionless clockwork fan unable to scatter any portion of summer heat. And with everypony back together in more or less the same place, and her body recognizing that they had reached some form of civilization... her weary form was starting to send up a few postponed questions. Several of them regarded time travel. For starters, it really wanted to know where winter and spring had gone and, if such a thing was possible, when it could reasonably expect to get them back.
There were also certain questions regarding exactly what she was sleeping on. The bed could absolutely be described as a prize, because there were competitions which nosed over consolation items to those who finished last. In this case, the mattress could be thought of as incentive to do better the next time around. Or to sleep less. Or, better yet, to sleep elsewhere.
On the rather dubious bright side, Twilight now felt decidedly more capable of being able to fake a wing injury. All she had to do was pretend the aches were in a slightly different place.
So much of her felt disoriented. The scents were wrong (which included a rather natural one, but she was in no way ready to take responsibility for the emissions), the temperature had changed too quickly, the season wasn't right... and yet she was glad for the myriad disruptions, because every last one was a sign that she was awake.
Her previous reality had been the nightscape. Dreams which were beyond Luna's reach, all of which had featured that alicorn in a prominent, co-starring role.
and the sisters charge towards the shield with their wings unfurled and horns ignited, right up until the instant their marks turn into steam and mist as Sun comes to a halt in the sky, and the first wisps of smoke rise from overheated trees
Trying to instinctively escape from that kind of dream had made her move across the blankets a few times, which was why so much of the cloth was rumpled up beneath her small form. The uneven surface had done a lot to wake her up during one particularly bad nightmare: Twilight filed that under small mercies.
She opened her eyes. Sun did its best to lance through the poor window glass into her pupils, and very nearly made it.
Did I oversleep? Sun shouldn't be raised anywhere near this early --
-- summer. It's summer.
She grumbled to herself. Stayed atop the bed just long enough to spot the first signs of a shift in the sunbeam's angle: the truest proof that reality had reasserted itself. And then she turned her head, glancing across the uneven aisle towards the other bed.
Fluttershy's gone --
Her heartbeat began to accelerate --
-- no. She's up. I can hear hooves moving around on the lower level. I know what her hooves sound like on wood when she's staying with somepony. She doesn't need as much sleep as most ponies and she doesn't want to wake anypony, so she moves like she's apologizing to the floor for being so much trouble.
Twilight forced her legs to straighten. Worked her way down from the mattress, postponed making the bed, stumbled towards the bathroom, went through the open doorway and instinctively glanced towards the edges of the mirror, because that was where most ponies kept the weather schedule --
-- uneven, poorly-smoothed wood.
The mirror wasn't much better. It didn't have the full-scale distortions of a funhouse variety, but possessed just enough imperfections to twist a feature or two at a time. There was a moment when it left her unsure of just who she was truly looking at, and a mare who'd been struggling with her self-image for moons didn't need the extra push. She... still hadn't truly incorporated the wings...
...look around. Make sure I didn't miss anything. I should have checked this yesterday, but I was trying to get cleaned up and...
...nothing.
Maybe nopony tacked it up because the house wasn't occupied. There wasn't any need. I could just ask one of the locals about what's been --
-- none of the pegasi are flying.
If they won't fly, then they can't --
When it came to precipitation, the shield rendered the point somewhat moot. (She was vaguely curious to see what the construct was like in the rain: tiny rivers and tributaries twisting their way down the dome.) But it was air-permeable, which meant truly high winds could have some effort. And when it came to temperature...
But there was nothing near the mirror. There wouldn't be anything in the entire residence. In any residence --
-- the disorientation flared, surged, made her stumble to the point where her left forehoof nearly wound up in the toilet trench.
A pony community without a weather schedule.
Morning in Truedawn.
The continual-flow toilet trench worked exactly as intended and in doing so, distinguished itself for meritorious service.
She tried to be careful about her other toiletries. Then Twilight belatedly remembered that she'd let Fluttershy sleep through all of the night's thinking, recovered all of the associated concepts, accelerated just a little too much, and wound up skidding her way down the inadequately-divoted ramp.
A jungle-green snout poked out of the kitchen doorway.
"...Twilight? Are you okay? It sounded like you almost went into the wall --"
"-- did you eat?" the little mare gasped. "Did you take anything for breakfast?"
"...no," the caretaker's confusion announced. "I thought we'd all have something together once we reached Applejack and Spike. There's still some food from last night which we could carry over. Why?"
"Don't," Twilight insisted as four knees tried to sort themselves out. "Don't take any more of the food. Use our supplies. Anything we brought, for as long as possible."
Rather naturally, "...why?"
Twilight explained. Fluttershy listened.
"...it's not impossible," their medic conceded. "But it would almost have to be a completely new species, Twilight. One of the reasons we were able to spot so many things to eat in the rainforest was because a few of the local seeds already made it to Equestria." With a faint smile, "Explorers, you know. And earth ponies who'll try to grow anything, just to see how it comes out. I think we'll probably be okay as long as we stay with the familiar, and... we only have so much in our supplies. If we're here long enough, we won't have a choice..."
And there was only that much left because... they'd been interspacing the Equestrian goods with the native plants.
If I could just conjure food...
...can Pinkie create party appetizers?
Possibly. But her current theory with Pinkie's conjurations was that they took energy to maintain -- and there was almost guaranteed to be a mass limit: only so much matter which could be manifested, and then some of it would have to go away. Twilight didn't want to find out what happened when the contents of a perfectly sugar-coated tanghulu skewer vanished from a pony's stomach.
"I understand. And anypony who gets near the crops again can look them over. Carefully. But let's try to stick with our stock. As much as we can. And I want to head over to the other house early, so we can warn Applejack."
And what did that mean for Rarity's group, which had been in Truedawn a little bit longer? She wasn't even sure how long it would take to reach those homes. The designer had created a small, extremely partial map for them, but --
Don't think about it...
...too late...
...explorers...
No. That part could wait until the morning meeting.
"How are you feeling?" Twilight carefully asked.
The green head turned. One eye briefly regarded a fabric-covered hip, then looked back.
"...in general?" the hybrid asked. "Or with my mark?"
Reluctantly, "Both."
It got her a slow exhale. "...generally... sore. It's the bed, mostly. And I had some bad dreams. My mark is okay, Twilight. I... looked when I was in the bathroom this morning. There's no changes. I promise..."
And all she had was "Thank you."
"...we can head over to the other house pretty soon," Fluttershy considered. "We'll need to load up some of the back-mounted trays with our own food first. And..." Two blinks. "...would you help me put the mane combs back in?"
Carefully, "You're sure?"
"...it's easier to do it in here, where you can keep your corona hidden and nopony will see them move. It's good practice for you. And we're still supposed to explore the area after the meeting, right? I might see Starlight. And I could tell her that I'm just... trying them out."
"Okay." It would be practice, and the weight of the mane combs wouldn't come anywhere close to making her field shine through the illusion. "What about your dreams?"
"...my dreams? You were the one who looked like you were having the worse night. I saw you twisting around a few times. I almost woke you up... and I should change the bandage over that wing. I can see the ripple under the nightgown: it got shifted in your sleep..."
"I was dreaming about the Princesses," Twilight made herself admit. "And... their marks -- going away. It... wasn't good." And there's a new level of understatement. "What was in yours?"
The beautiful head dipped. Two slow blinks cut off the view of the floor.
"...just dreams," Fluttershy quietly told her. "I'll go get the combs."
It was a short trot, and a careful one: Twilight wasn't really used to moving with a tray on her back. It was something which briefly made her grateful for the bandaged wing: one less thing which could move and kick the balance off.
She had to be very careful about her body. The same caution didn't seem to apply with her neck.
"...you're looking up a lot." Which emerged in something very close to a whisper, because there were a few commuters moving down the cross-street -- well, in Ponyville, they would have been commuters. For Truedawn, it was probably just the early work shift. "Up and towards the tepui's cliff."
Overalls-clad ponies glanced at them. Stopped, waved a foreleg, smiled, and moved on.
"The cave," Twilight quietly admitted. (Three years of careful practice gave her no issues in picking up on Fluttershy's voice at short range.) "I can just barely make it out, and most of that is Sun going off the quartz. But it was kicking out a light display last night. I need to ask Pinkie about the local rocks. If any of them do that naturally."
It got her a small nod. "...or if it might be unnatural. But it could just be magic we don't know, right?"
The librarian nodded. "And we can't exactly reach it right now."
A few more hoofsteps.
"...you're still moving your head."
Twilight held back the sigh, forced her decibels into the basement and locked the door behind them. "It's the lockdown. I'm trying to get a feel for it. That's the first step to breaking it."
"...can you feel it right now?"
"I know it's there." It wasn't quite the same feel as she'd picked up in Trotter's Falls, and she put that down to the fusion with the shield and -- whatever had been done to create the breaking of the ruby.
Of the stallion.
"But I think I need to get closer," Twilight admitted. "To the border, at the very least. A casting device would be better. That can wait until we all get out into Truedawn today, though. Right now, let's go check on them."
Spike's okay. Applejack's okay.
Believe that.
"...and warn them about the food," Fluttershy reminded her. "Just in case."
"I was thinking about the food!" came with an angry flare of cyan wings.
Twilight just barely managed a smile: a thin, strained, worried specimen -- but it probably counted. "You might have a point," she told Rainbow. "Has anypony noticed any effects?" This to Rarity's group. "You've been here longer..."
The designer shook her head -- then paused, and white fur creased across the wince.
"Rarity?" Instant concern, with thin folded legs starting to push against the floor --
"-- no, Twilight," the designer sighed. "Nothing related to my mark. However, in the strictest sense of 'effects', there has been a portion of -- digestive aftermath."
Every mare's face instantly did its best to match the wince. Spike, who consumed gems, briefly looked amused.
"I heard the 'aftermath'," her little brother giggled. "All night long --"
"-- and when it was you, most of Ponyville wanted to take out a restraining order," Applejack immediately grumbled. "Twenty body lengths between a dragon and any amount of anthracite, for the rest of your life. You didn't clear out a room after you tried 'coal with an attitude', Spike. You nearly cleared out the library. And most of Barnyard Bargains -- oh, good. So it's not as funny now." The blonde head slowly shook. "What is it with boys and farts?"
"Dear," Rarity immediately said as her gaze went left, "some of us were attempting to retain a portion of dignity --"
" --and I said 'boys' because I don't think there's a sapient species which doesn't have male kids who'd think it's hilarious," the farmer grumbled. "Okay, Twi: if I can get out there again, I'll take a closer look at the crops. See if there's anything completely new, or stuff which changed in a way it shouldn't. Anything else?"
Twilight looked around the room again. They were all present -- although when compared to the previous night, there had been some shuffling of the order. Applejack, who had been the last to sit down, was now firmly positioned between Rarity and Trixie.
Not that they were exactly on top of each other before. About as far apart as they could be while still staying in the same room. But that's an intercept position.
"Yes," she admitted. "There's something else I thought of last night. It might be important."
"Let's hear it," Trixie suggested.
"In her own time --" Rarity immediately began.
"-- now," Twilight forced in. "I've got to tell everypony now. It's about Scootaloo's parents..."
And after she finished, she looked around again. Checking everypony in the crowded room not just for reactions, but for thoughts and opinions and the words which might make it somehow come out right.
Applejack seemed to be cascading between emotions: anger, frustration, concern -- and the only commonality was that none of them did anything to slow the lashing of the tail. Pinkie... in just about any situation where she talked about her parents, it would be the Cakes, and it was that relationship which made the baker look so anxious. Fluttershy was, quite naturally, silent. Spike, who'd sent off the scroll which had arguably started everything, was clenching his handling claws, over and over. Rarity's lips had pulled back from her teeth, very slightly. Trixie --
-- sympathy?
-- and then it was gone. Replaced with forward-arced ears and what very much felt like forced neutrality.
Her mark doesn't make her travel. Becoming a performer was her choice.
She could have become a researcher. Just about any major project would have hired --
-- why didn't she...?
...she could settle down at any time. Find something to work on. And if she really wanted to... live-in house act for -- somewhere in Las Pegasus? She'd need a cloudwalking spell every few days, but ...
Rainbow's initial reaction had been a near-mirror of Applejack: the main difference was that the farmer had to hold back kicks, and an angry weather coordinator tended to generate the scent of ozone. But now she looked -- thoughtful.
And tired. She's not sleeping well. The fur isn't sitting right under her eyes. But she's thinking.
Rainbow thought about things more than most ponies believed. She often preferred instinct, especially in a fight -- but as with her stunts, she could come at problems from angles nopony else was even capable of imagining.
Which was why it was extremely important to find out what was going through her head. Because Twilight needed to learn if it would save them from the crash -- or create it.
"Rainbow?"
The sleek head shifted. Bleary eyes slowly focused.
"What are you thinking?" Twilight asked.
With far less volume than usual, "Thinking..." And that was all.
Carefully, "Rainbow?" As multiple mares looked at the pegasus, Spike's hands clutched at each other, and even Trixie seemed to be leaning in that direction...
"How do you stop having thoughts?" the weather coordinator asked. And waited.
Everyone stared at her.
If I could work that out, my life would be a lot easier.
Which wasn't what Twilight had wanted to think. Possibly proving the point.
"Sleep," she said.
"That just gets you dreams," Rainbow wearily noted as her wing joints loosened, with feathers drooping away from her sides. "It's not an improvement."
Very, very carefully, "Rainbow?"
"...bad night," the pegasus said. "That's all. Akhal-Tekes?"
"I pretty much just know the name," the librarian confessed. "And that it's a long way off." With a faint smile, "I was sort of worried when she came in. Because it was Scootaloo, and just about the only times she wound up in the library were when she was setting up for a big Crusade. But she just wanted to see where she was born. And you're changing the subject, Rainbow."
"Yeah." The pegasus took a slow breath, and her wings returned to the rest position. "Okay. Let's say that the stallion in Canterlot changed his mark. The one which -- went away isn't the one he got during manifest. Start there."
Everypony nodded.
"So if this place is about changing marks," Rainbow continued, "and her parents swapped theirs, or just -- got new ones from somewhere... then they still couldn't come back to Equestria, right? Not to anywhere they'd already been, if somepony would know them with the old ones."
Twilight blinked.
"...they couldn't," Fluttershy softly recognized. "Not when you can't even put makeup over a mark without having it evaporate."
Twilight instantly felt her gaze trying to burrow below the caretaker's dress --
-- with a slow head shake, "...no. I saw it happen to me a few years ago, when Photo Finish's crew was getting me ready for a session. One of the brushes spread the powder a little too close."
Please don't say 'evaporate' and 'mark' in the same sentence.
"They could try to say they were somepony's twin," Pinkie considered. "Or -- did anypony ever hear the one about ponies who were 'separated at the hips'?"
This smile felt weary. "Recently," Twilight admitted. "But -- Applejack, does either of them have a twin?"
"I don't know," the farmer admitted. "Scootaloo's never said. But I'd bet against it. She pulled out those aunts, remember? Parents with twins, one or both -- that's somepony else who could have visited her."
"Rainbow?" Because the relationship between Crusader and weather coordinator was somewhat less contentious.
"Same," Rainbow told them. "Not a word. And I know -- they could just stay dressed. Say they turned into clothists or something. But even if they just came in to get Scootaloo, then took her somewhere new... she'd know."
"It is," Rarity dryly admitted, "rather difficult to remain clothed full-time -- no, that is not heresy dropping from my lips: it is fact. Weather conditions, social pressure. Even clothists need to disrobe at some point. And in one's own household, with a child about..."
Twilight slowly nodded. "They'd have to be careful. One slip..."
"Simply exiting a shower might do the trick," the designer agreed. "There is no realistic way to expect that they could hide such a change for the rest of their lives -- Twilight?"
Who had just barely registered the sudden pained sensation of having her dock jammed into the wall, and was distantly surprised that it had gotten through at all. "What?"
"You practically jumped backwards! From a sitting start. And given that, I feel we truly need to know what is in your head."
She sighed. "I thought -- 'unless they can change their marks at will' --"
There was a pause. Several pieces of furniture were uprighted again. Applejack tried not to look at the fresh set of hoof-shaped wall dents.
"-- yeah," the librarian reluctantly continued, and followed it with the understatement of a lifetime. "It's... a really big thought. And I'm going to need proof on that one." When it came to impossible changes, Tish had been bad enough. "Pinkie?" Because with the initial shock faded, the thoughtful expression had sought out a new home.
"It's what you said about them raising her," the baker carefully informed them. "How it might have been -- hard for them to stay in one place. Couldn't they turn their talents off? Because I remember that from school, that anypony can do that. Not that most of them ever do and I haven't, but --"
Twilight shook her head. "It works for a while. But it's like not getting to practice a talent. The urges are still going to build."
"...I've done it," Fluttershy quietly admitted. "On trots through the forest. When I just want to hear birds sing, and -- not understand what they're singing about. You can't keep it up forever, Pinkie."
"How long could somepony --" was as far as Pinkie got.
"About two weeks."
Multiple sets of eyes immediately focused on Trixie.
"Maybe it's longer for somepony else," the performer steadily said. "Or shorter. For me, it's about two weeks. That's as far as I got. You'd need a new version of the Severance. Long-term, completely controlled. The mark would still be there, but it wouldn't mean anything. Not until you wanted it to. And when it comes to changing that spell, or creating a variant --"
She stopped. The streaked tail twitched. Eyelids scrunched half-shut, opened again. And that was all.
Silence. No birds could be heard chirping outside. Not in Truedawn. Ponies breathing, a little dragon waiting, and what sounded like a repetitive series of small impacts coming down the street.
What do I say?
What can I --
Applejack carefully cleared her throat. "For safety? They'd need their original marks back in order to see anypony who knew them --" and green eyes widened. "Drop the volume, everypony. Spike, kitchen."
"What?" the little dragon immediately asked. "What did I --"
"-- I hear somepony coming up to the door," the farmer hissed. "Give it a few seconds --"
-- a hoof rapped against the exterior wood.
Spike scrambled and in doing so, managed to get out of sight just before the door opened.
Nopony said --
It didn't matter. Houses in Truedawn existed without locks. You knocked to let the occupants know you were there, and then you came in.
"Pardon me," said the smiling dull red pegasus stallion as he poked his head into the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting too much of anything."
Seven mares, acting with the strongest degree of unity they might ever find, managed to repress the collective glare.
"But the community was hoping we could borrow you," he continued, and nodded at the subject of his quest. The smile widened.
Applejack blinked.
"Me?"
"You're the -- agronomist?" With open worry, "Did I pronounce that --"
"-- yeah," she reassured him. "I know it's not a word you hear a lot. Why me?"
"The crops," he promptly said. "We were all talking about it. How you were looking things over. You found that clubroot problem. It's a big help, it really is. You caught it in time, and we're grateful. But we were hoping that you could -- check some other things? While it's early, before we bring anything in for the community?"
The farmer looked around. Checking with the others.
We don't have a reason for her not to go...
Twilight subtly nodded. Applejack stood up.
"I wanted to see some more of your production chain and crops anyway," she admitted. "Keep going without me, everypony. You can catch me up on the rest of the exploring when I get back."
The stallion smiled, turned and headed out. Applejack followed. A few seconds later, they all heard the door swing shut, and Spike came back into the room.
"We're just going to allow that?" Rarity checked. "When we don't know what their true intentions might be?"
"We're trying to maintain our cover," Twilight sighed. "That's hers." A subset of the truth. "And it's like she said: we did want to look at the food. Once we all go out to explore Truedawn, we can check on her. And if anypony tries to take her on, we'll probably --"
Six sets of ears perked. Two groups of scaly side projections twitched.
The hoof knocked. Spike dove into the kitchen.
"Oh, good! So they did see you come in here!" the middle-aged washed-out green earth pony mare beamed, just before the left foreleg gestured towards Rainbow. "Miss?"
"Yeah?" the pegasus cautiously said.
"I understand you were offering to do a few things the other day?" Rather happily, "Because I can't seem to find a platform lift this morning --"
"-- a what?" Rainbow asked.
"Oh, I know you saw them! One of our crank-powered ascenders. Aren't they marvelous?"
"I was sort of wondering about the design," Rainbow admitted. "I've got a friend who likes to look at blueprints --"
"-- and as you did want to help the community," the older mare smiled. "would it be all right to ask for a little assistance now?"
Several mares exchanged glances. Rarity stopped just before hers reached Trixie.
"I... guess," Rainbow said, and forced herself upright. "This won't take too long, right?"
"Oh, you know work," the local breezily said as Rainbow followed her out. "Always expanding to fill any amount of time allotted..."
"I know, right! That's why you've got to fight back! Show work that it can't just do whatever it wants! You know what really delivers a good solid kick to work? Making some of it wait until you finish up with a nap...!"
The door closed. Spike emerged from the kitchen.
"Well, you were all going out today anyway," the youngest grumpily declared. "Maybe this is just saving time --"
Ears went up. A triangularly-pointed tail hit the left side of the door frame just before vanishing again.
"Sorry for my timing," a new stallion smiled. "But is she available?"
"I --" said the targeted mare.
"It's important," the stallion apologized. "And I'm sure an explorer would love to see the new!"
Trixie left. Rarity's features suffused with dark satisfaction.
"Small favors," the unicorn decided. "Oh, hello, Spike. Now where were --"
Another knock. Another evacuation. Another mare.
"-- well, I suppose I did say something about wanting to see --"
The purple tail lashed somewhat on the way out.
"I'm starting to feel like there's a pattern," Spike grumbled as he made his way towards a patch of what was now a much emptier floor. "Anypony want to see if I manage to sit this time? ...okay. I got my butt all the way down --"
"Language," a slightly-stunned Twilight automatically chided.
"I said 'butt'! And we keep losing ponies! It took so much to get everypony back together, and now we just keep losing ponies --"
"-- we'll check on her too, Spike," his big sister tried to reassure him. "Pinkie, there's something I wanted to ask you."
"Oh?" the baker perked. "What is it?"
"Types of quartz. Do you know of any which could magically create --"
Hoofsteps.
Knock.
Door.
"-- I'll tell you when I get back!"
Fluttershy sighed. Slowly, carefully stood up.
"Is something wrong?" Twilight asked as Spike, who was coming back the other way, completely failed to bother clearing the door frame.
"...it's a coin flip now," the caretaker said. "This probably just saves a little time..."
Dyed ears rotated.
The siblings looked at each other across the open space.
"A pattern," Twilight eventually said.
"...yeah," Spike irritably declared from his position in the doorway. "I'll be in the kitchen. Until somepony comes to get you, which is probably going to be as soon as I try to sit down. And then I'll stay in the house until somepony gets back. Or unless I decide it's been too many hours. And then Truedawn is going to be dealing with a really mobile box. Which breathes fire."
"Spike, I'm worried too and I know somepony's probably coming to fetch me for -- something -- but you need to stay out of sight unless we give up on our cover completely, or -- something happens." Reluctantly, "I know you might have to come for us --" and with a small smile " because you've done it before. But... please, try to stay calm. We're new here, and we don't know --"
Two scaly legs treated a minor I'm About To Sit Down bending as an act of pure defiance against the universe.
A hoof knocked on the door.
Well, I wanted everypony to explore, Twilight crossly considered as she moved through a new Truedawn day. And I didn't want us doing it alone. Pairs. Maybe with somepony staying behind to keep Spike company, and make sure nopony tried to go through our stuff. Or worse. Goes through our stuff, touches it, and finds out some of it has scales.
So we're getting to explore.
"So what do you think?" her guide asked.
In pairs.
"It's very --"
She looked around. The building styles did their best to inflict pain, and that was without touching them. Physical contact with a few of the surfaces would risk splinters, and she constantly had to restrain herself from just snapping the projections off. Entire structures looked as if they were waiting for their chance to snag something as their near-final act of revenge: the actual closing act would be the subsequent total collapse.
We're in the southern hemisphere.
My body thinks it's supposed to be winter. My snout doesn't know where we are.
My eyes are trying to tell me that we're in a random cross-section of at least a dozen Equestrian settled zones. All jumbled together. And waiting for demolition. Something violates the building codes and it gets knocked down. That's fair.
I could take that one huge splinter off right now --
-- no hidden corona. They'll still see the wood snap.
"-- eclectic," Twilight finished.
Magic.
I am Magic.
Not Honesty.
I carry Applejack's essence with me, but I am not Honesty.
I'm still sort of sure Honesty might get away with that.
...also that if I was Honesty...
...speed of sound, roughly estimated distance between here and Ponyville...
...I would be hearing the last echoes of the necklace exploding in about --
Her company smiled. So did the three delighted ponies who were trailing behind them.
Pairs.
On up.
Explore. Talk to ponies. Things I wanted us to do.
"We try everything," the pale blue stallion with the utterly disorganized tail told her. "Just because one style is appealing doesn't mean a different one won't look good next to it!"
We just can't do it unsupervised.
There was something about Truedawn which tilted just about every effort towards mediocrity -- or worse, just below. Still, when it came to overenthusiastic tour guides, Twilight could truthfully say that Tikr wasn't the worst she'd ever met. Braeburn existed.
"I suppose," Twilight told him. He kept smiling.
'Tikr'. She'd asked him to spell it. There had been a faint sense of relief in learning that the name still used the Equestrian alphabet.
"You're taking a lot of time out of your day to show me around," she noted. "So are your friends."
"It's like Seti said the other day," Tikr grinned. "And she was right. I thought you needed the night to recover from the wild. I know I did, when I came in. But just about nothing is as important as meeting new arrivals. So I talked it over with her. I convinced her that we all had to wait for one night. And now I'm here, meeting you. Making sure you feel welcome."
So why haven't you asked for my name?
"And giving you the tour," he proudly added. "Because you can only really show off to a new arrival once each. And I've always wanted to be the guide!" Happily, "So is there anything you really wanted to see?"
Shield-generating device, please.
If the portion I touch to turn it off isn't clearly labeled, please indicate it for me.
But it was the Tour. And she was learning a few things about Truedawn. The basic layout, where some of the residents lived, the location of a cafe -- she'd scented the cafe before seeing it, and was still regretting every breath taken in that vicinity -- and the fact that her friends were likely okay.
She was still worried about Spike, and there was nothing she would be able to do about it until she got back to that house. But she kept spotting the others. Rainbow had been the first sighting: the pegasus was found hovering next to a streetlight, examining some clouded glass prior to swapping it out for a fresh cover piece.
(Twilight had been using the tour to check for magic where she could, and found that there were lingering enchantments centered near the metal post -- but none of them were currently active. She didn't expect them to be. It was day.)
Rarity had located -- or been brought to -- the clothing store. The white unicorn had been reared up with her forehooves pressed against the front window and the locals, mistaking the too-wide eyes of horror for interest, had been eagerly asking her if she wanted to go inside and try something on. Twilight was desperately hoping that the designer would be capable of postponing the near-inevitable explosion until she returned to privacy or, at the very least, could manage to temporarily suspend Generosity and not give the audience a piece of her mind.
Pinkie was merrily chatting with her group, but... if you knew the baker, it was possible to spot the signs of discomfort. Pressed into attendance at a party she wanted to leave.
Trixie was having an easier time of it -- in several senses. Just for starters, she was the only one of the group who got to be nude. In summer. (Twilight was patiently waiting for the moment when she personally sweated all the way through her dress, and knowing that nearly all of Truedawn's residents had to deal with the overalls brought her no comfort.) And Trixie had very little trouble in speaking with anypony. Traveling constantly, needing to find ways of luring an audience to her shows -- there was a certain requirement for Trixie to establish herself quickly. Trixie's skills in making friends were something of a mystery, but she created acquaintances rather easily. For up to ten minutes, or until they truly came to know her: whichever came first --
-- and is that you in there, Rarity?
I still can't find your essence. But maybe this is what makes it rise. Insults provided for me, free. Whether I want them or not.
She'd caught one mare looking at Trixie's mark. Only for a second. And then that pegasus had immediately flinched away, doing so with an expression of --
-- pity?
Nausea?
Both?
Fluttershy and Starlight had been spotted at the same time. Based on the sheer proximity of the discussion, Twilight was assuming the subject was combs.
There had been no sign of Scootaloo's parents.
"Because I can show you just about anything," Tikr delightedly declared. "Although you shouldn't expect us to have everything. We're still advancing, of course. Making progress. And if you have any suggestions..."
"Is there a bathhouse?" Because some ponies did enjoy washing up as a communal activity -- and it was a place where you couldn't remain clothed.
The stallion shook his head: the smile failed to fade. "Oh, no... I'm sorry, but that's one we just haven't gotten around to yet." Thoughtfully, "You might be the first one to propose it, actually! I'll make sure it gets added to the list."
"Could you get the supplies for one?" Careful...
He casually shrugged. "If the community collectively agreed that it was needed? Of course! Or somepony could decide they wanted to try it themselves, and that they could make everything they needed here. We make a lot of things here."
The Poorly was automatic.
"But they'd probably still need a design. And for something the size of a bathhouse -- well, it all goes faster when we work together. The community knows that."
"You could get a design, though." And who brings that in? Who teleports the supplies?
"Naturally! But since I'm almost sure you're the first..." With a grin, "No bathhouse just yet. But maybe soon, if somepony likes the idea. Anything else?"
Well, at least he's not shoving me around with the top of his head...
She was trying to think of a subtle means to ask about a research facility, device design and creation area, anything related to why they'd come --
-- the high-pitched squeak from the overladen wheels hit her ears, and they slammed against her skull.
Tikr winced. (It almost reached the smile. Almost.) "Oh, right," he said. "It's one of those days..."
He turned his head, looked left towards the source of the sound. Twilight's gaze followed --
-- right. (She wanted to smile. She didn't. There were enough smiles around her already.) It's hard to keep Applejack from working for very long.
There were three carts moving down the nearest cross-street, being hauled by a total of nine ponies: Applejack had one of the hitches for what appeared to be the heaviest. The design was the same for all of them: flat bottoms, fence slats around the edges of the platform, and wheels. The wheels needed some work. Looking at the wheels went a long way towards explaining why Trixie hated them, while questioning why the performer hadn't upgraded to 'loathe'. They were wheels which felt that working with a basic circle indicated a lack of imagination coupled with a strange desire to actually get somewhere and as poorly-traveling travesties went, the axles outclassed them.
Each cart was laden with multiple barrels, and those stood out to Twilight as the sturdiest thing she'd seen in Truedawn. The barrels could have easily been the work of a marked cooper. None of them were bulging at the sides, there weren't any cracks, and she didn't see a single leak -- although she was close enough to hear some of the sloshing.
"Water?" she asked. Nopony in her group had spotted native apples -- Applejack had said there might be Dorset Goldens about, but none had actually appeared -- and at any rate, when you weren't racing against a poorly-constructed device, it took a fair amount of time to make cider.
"Yep!" Tikr enthused "And I see your friend is fitting right in! We do appreciate the help."
...wait...
"Why so much water?" Twilight carefully asked. "Is there some sort of special project going on? Because your plumbing seems fine."
"You noticed?" Openly pleased. "What was your favorite part?"
"...working toilet trench," had the benefit of being the absolute truth and, as a further recommendation, didn't have to cover the total failure of the water heating system, the lack of pressure in the nozzles, or go into any of Twilight's worries about the local sewer system: that last started with 'Do you have one?'
"I know," he sighed (and still continued to smile). "Surest sign of civilization, right?"
"But that's a lot of water," she cautiously pressed. "Is there a house which isn't hooked up yet?"
He shook his head. "They're bringing the barrels to Starlight's workshop."
Her workshop.
"Her plumbing broke down?"
"No. It was just a cave night."
Don't blink.
...don't blink too much. Blinking is natural. Not blinking at all is suspicious.
Just look interested...
"Sorry?" Twilight curiously asked. And did her best not to hold her breath.
"The cave went off last night," Tikr casually told her. "And if there's light, then Starlight needs water."
...let him talk.
Just let him...
She did her best to look even more curious. Politely interested. As if all she wanted in the world was to hear his next words. And he smiled.
"It's hard to make water flow up," Tikr pointed out. "And catching it directly from the waterfall, channeling it from altitude -- even that high up, there's too much force. So we get the barrels. She takes it from there."
"Can I see the workshop?"
It had felt like a natural question. And yet, he -- hesitated, as the three trailing locals went silent.
"We can look at it from the outside," he finally said. "But you shouldn't trot in."
Another pause, and Twilight forced herself to wait. To make him fill the silence with words.
"We... try to give her privacy," said the stallion who lived in a community without locks and had apparently never learned the meaning of 'Come in.' "As much as we can. Her burden..."
One deep, slow breath. A trio of ponies matched every shift of the ribs.
"It's horrible for her," Tikr told that portion of the world which rested immediately in front of his forehooves. "When all she might ever be is --"
He stopped. Raised his head.
"You'll understand," he simply said. "Just... be nice to her. Be gentle. She has it so much worse than any of us, and... all we can try to do is help."
And then he smiled.
"We can see it from the outside," he told Twilight. "Let's just follow the barrels."
He led the way. Twilight followed closely, making sure she could track him the whole way and watch his face at the same time. And he just kept smiling.
Everypony was smiling.
Everypony.
"If they're innocent, or at least believe they are... they would let us leave."
The shield kept the wild zone out. It wasn't necessarily keeping everypony in. But one stallion had left --
-- escaped?
...died...
Perhaps he had been the mad one. When they all seemed so happy...
...no.
She remembered the dead stallion's final expression. That thin, vicious smile. The frozen remnants of a dark delight. And with the residents of Truedawn...
"She doesn't smile right."
Words Pinkie had spoken regarding Starlight.
But with the others...
It was hard for her to tap into Pinkie's essence, but -- it had happened a few times. Generally by accident. It was something which didn't seem to require centering so much as a degree of tilt, and Twilight was at least somewhat tilted now. She had to be, because it was almost impossible for her to believe she was capable of accessing this much empathy on her own. But she could feel something now.
The locals looked -- happy. Constantly. But it almost felt as if there was something else present or rather, as if there wasn't.
Fall into the mark, until only the talent remains.
Fall into -- the absence?
The lack?
They all seemed so happy. They smiled all the time.
'void, hollowed'
As if the only thing which truly existed about each pony was... the smile.
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Come on everypony smile smile smile
Fill my heart up with sunshine sunshine
All I really need's a smile smile smile
From these empty husks of mine
What this one chapter eludes to at the end is a thousand times darker than the FiM episode that inspired this whole story.
This month feels like Christmas with all of the updates. I'm highly enjoying the Patreon notices, I like getting to read a chapter soon after it goes live!
Great job of making this whole plot just... unsettling. Where Triptych felt like an adventure/mystery with some thriller and horror elements, Glimmer feels like a slow-burn horror along the lines of The Wicker Man or Midsommar. I'm not sure if this is what you're going for but I'm certainly enjoying it!
oh, this reminds me of a book, "if i pay thee not in gold", by Piers Anthony and Mercedes Lackey, were the women, and ONLY the women, in a small country, could conjure up ANYTHING, but it would fade away in one day.
they couldn't live on conjured food, but they could get drunk on conjured beer.
Even if the = Cutie Mark interferes with hearing the earth's Song (does it? Only Estee knows), they surely remenber it, plus The Conspiracy.
But the poor construction seems to argue that it not only Zaps your talent but interferes with learned skills as well
11887391
Yeah, Starlight does give the impression of someone with good intentions... or at least they started with good intentions... but they have gone completely off the rail a long time ago.
She's trying to avoid the horror that surrounds her.
11887449
I think its more that nopony is allowed to do things they trained for/learned in their previous life, so they aren't tempted by what they left behind.
If the "=" is actually interfering with learned abilities, things that are just training and practice ... that is very disturbing.
11887547
Well, thinking about it, they've got working toilet trenches, so she's willing to bend at least that far.
.
But, the very first instance when the Zebra charcoal burner lost control of their fire it hints that taking someone's mark interferes with at least Cutie Mark related learned skills.
This is turning more and more into the pony equivalent of The Twilight Zone. All the ponies are going to need all the therapy. I just hope that none of the hybrids are here because Discord will not be happy I think.
11887547
11887627
I’ve always viewed Starlight’s cutie mark removal spell as a two-part spell. The first part removes the cutie mark, which itself grants abilities and insight to the one it belongs to. Then, with the cutie mark gone and with it that talent-boosting ability, it is replaced by that fake cutie mark which brings talents both physical and mental down to a certain level to ensure all have the same baseline level of ability.
Man the fact that they all got seperated again is giving me major anxiety. It's so crazy, Starlight is such a dangerous enemy in this verse that I really just want them to be together all the time
want -> wanted
Tension building wonderfully. What will break first?
👍
Well, that’s a very specific pattern and knowing (or not knowing) this Starlight, somewhat ominous sounding, but so far my mind is drawing a blank as to what she could be doing that requires the water.
11887982
Yes, I assume shades of “Harrison Bergeron”s Handicapper General at work in the spell… everyone reduced to the lowest common denominator.
11887371
"And when everyone's happy, no one will be." Or something to that effect.
11887449
I think the problem with the construction is that one of the implied rules is “you can be anything but what you were”.
Which is to say, anyone with actual carpentry skills probably isn’t practicing them, because they would have likely been a marked carpenter. Therefore, any construction is being done by people who have no idea how to actually do construction. It’s possible someone might learn eventually, but we have no idea how long people tend to stick around, or stick to any one project.
It does make a kind of sense. People who come here willingly likely were close to or recovering from falling into the mark, so anything to keep them from relapsing would be ideal. I imagine it might also cause interference with whatever overwrites the mark.
I hope Twilight picks up on this. "Tikr" practically told her to her face that none of them are leaving.
A guest wouldn't need to fit in, after all.