E01: Help Wanted [Ø]

THEN

"This is where we say goodbye."

The warm smile on the face of the gray earth pony mare seemed better suited for a greeting than a farewell. A titanic whirlwind of brilliant blue energy towered behind her, swirling its way up from a black abyss far below to an orb of pale white flame in the night sky. The mare's long sable mane whipped back and forth in the gale-force wind, but her deep violet eyes remained calm and centered on her companion. She let out a sigh that was lost to the howling storm.

"Can you at least wish me a safe journey?"

The pegasus filly that stood before her at the cliff's edge stared straight down, her posture sunken and forlorn. At her back were the plains of emerald grass that they'd long called home and the imposing form of the White Spire, a monstrous tower that rose so high into the air that its top could not be clearly seen from below. Stacks upon stacks of leather-bound books that stood all about swayed to and fro, but the only part of the gray filly that moved was her tousled blonde mane.

As it became increasingly clear that the younger pony would not respond, the elder mare leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "That's all right," she said with her gentle voice. "I suppose it's not a real goodbye. Take care, Little Sister." She turned about in an elegant motion and walked toward the whirlwind just beyond the precipice.

Seconds later, the pegasus filly rushed forward and latched onto the mare's front-left leg. The action had enough force behind it to stop the earth pony dead in her tracks.

"Derpy?" asked the mare.

"Don't go!" Derpy shouted, her frail boyish voice barely rising above the wind. "I don't want you to go!"

"I'm glad to see you've found your words," said the mare, "but we talked about this." She gently removed her foreleg from Derpy's grip and once again stood before the downcast filly. "The way to the Land Past the Sky is open. We may never get another chance to see it."

"I don't care about that," said Derpy, her gaze never leaving the ground. "Why do you care so much?" She shut her eyes in frustration, forcing a pair of tears down her cheeks. "Did I do something bad? Am I boring? Why do you want to leave me behind?"

The mare reached out a hoof and wiped the tear away. "Derpy, look at me." When the filly did not respond, she placed the hoof under her chin. "Look at me."

Derpy did as she was told, though one of her golden irises disobeyed the command and drifted to the right.

"You know better than that," the mare admonished. "I love you, and I'm coming back for you. I'd take you with me right now if I could." The blue light from the whirlwind danced in her eyes. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Yeah."

A knowing smile played across the mare's lips. She lowered her hoof and touched the amber jewel of a silver necklace draped around Derpy's neck.

"As long as you have Amber," she said, "our hearts are connected, no matter how far apart we may be."

Derpy Hooves looked to her sister's neck and the necklace that encircled it, identical to her own save for its jewel of white pearl. Her expression calmed and the corners of her mouth turned up just a bit at the reassurance.

The elder mare drew her sister into a soft embrace. "I need you to be brave for me, Derpy. I'll be back before you know it, and all this will become nothing more than a distant memory." She pulled back and looked deep into Derpy's wavering gaze. "Can you be brave for me?"

Derpy gulped and tried to smile, though water welled in her eyes even so. "I'll try, Sis."

"Good girl," said the mare.

The white light of the orb in the sky flashed brightly in response to an unseen command. Tongues of its flame descended from above and wreathed about the earth pony mare. Then, slowly but surely, the mare was borne aloft, ascending into the maelstrom on a cradle of encircling fire.

Derpy's eyes widened in alarm. "Sis?" She trotted forward to within an inch or two of the edge. "Sis!" Her wings unfolded reflexively, but they were still too tiny to carry her weight.

Despite her words, the mare's eyes began to water as well. "Remember me," she said, unable to stop her voice from cracking. "Remember our promise."

"I will!" Derpy shouted from the precipice, her voice barely audible through the wind. "I love you!"

A single tear made its way past the elder mare's defenses. Her body entered the blue energy of the whirlwind and began to disappear from view.

"Most of all," she said, her voice now echoing in the sound of the storm itself. "Never forget your courageous heart."

With a bright flash and one final blast of wind, the cyclone vanished, leaving only silence and stillness in its wake. Derpy Hooves sat back on her haunches and looked up at the last wisps of blue energy making their way into the orb of white flame. Moments later, the orb itself faded from view, leaving its golden-flamed cousin alone in the sky. Derpy's eyes moved back and forth, watching the stars, auroras, and swirling rainbows that drifted about in the darkness for any sign at all, any trace of her dearest sister. Seconds passed, then minutes. She found none.

Her throat tightened and her eyes watered, but Derpy gave a mighty sniff and blinked back the oncoming tears. "Okay, Sis," she whispered. "I won't cry. I'll be brave, just like you said."

Derpy got up slowly and walked back toward the fields of grass. As she passed by the diminutive towers of stacked books, a faint sound permeated the silence. Derpy's eyes widened. She pulled a featureless leather-bound volume from one of the stacks and flipped it open on the ground before her. One eye scanned the pages with intensity as she brought a hoof to the jewel of her necklace, pressing it deep into the gray fur of her chest.

"I'm not afraid," said Derpy. "You're coming back for me, so I'm not afraid."

The sound grew louder and more distinct. It emanated from beyond the cliffside, from the abysmal darkness far below. It was, in fact, not one sound, but many—a choir of voices crying out in pain and anguish. Derpy Hooves began to tremble. She knew that they wouldn't stop. She knew that there was nothing she could do. She simply continued to read, hoping that she could lose herself in the stories all around her. Derpy's heart pounded in her chest and her skin grew hot. Though her teeth began to chatter, she repeated the mantra over and over, hoping that it would become true.

"I'm not afraid . . ."

NOW

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
Episode 01: "Help Wanted"

[Morning of Day 15]

Everything smelled like burnt muffins.

Derpy Hooves's eyes snapped open to stare at the textured patterns on the ceiling of her apartment. A ringing noise filled her ears and hammered on the inside of her skull. Her gray-furred right hoof sought out the source, but Derpy's gaze remained locked upward. The muscles in her face contracted and the cotton-like taste of morning breath bothered her more than it should have. No matter how many times she looked up at that ceiling, it never failed to elicit this particular emotion from her.

Her hoof toppled a nearby stack of books in its ongoing search. Derpy's right eye tore its gaze from the patterns above and found the bouncing alarm clock clattering on top of an unmounted shelf. Her hoof came down like a hammer and, at long last, the loud crack of broken glass gave way to merciful silence.

Derpy sat up in her futon and immediately wondered why. She swept the long locks of her blonde mane aside to stare at the fractured alarm clock. It had stopped at 7:41 AM. That's why, Derpy thought. I saw it before I saw it again. And I'm late. Upon realizing this, she pulled herself up from bedding that smelled faintly of body odor to meet the sickening "ever-so-slightly warmer than it should be" air that pressed in on her from all sides.

Random dust motes distracted Derpy's eyes as she stumbled toward the corner where she remembered depositing her mailbags. Finding them where she'd left them—a stroke of good luck by Derpy's reckoning—she began to slide the leather saddlebags on before stopping halfway and supposing that she probably looked awful. The gray pegasus settled the bags back on the floor and made her way a bit more carefully to the bathroom, sidestepping piles of books and magazines so that she wouldn't have to stack them again later.

She gave her stiff wings a stretch and immediately regretted that decision when her wing joints bumped against the walls to either side of the bathroom door. She winced, now fully awake, and her face turned hot at the mistake. With the now-smarting appendages folded back where they belonged indoors, Derpy stepped gingerly across the threshold and looked to the cracked mirror above the sink. Seeing nothing, she flipped on the lights.

The first thing Derpy observed was a frazzled blonde mane begging for attention. Knowing that a time-consuming shower was out of the question, she cranked the faucet and splashed ice-cold water all over her head and neck. After absorbing the excess water from her mane with a towel that smelled of dandruff and old shampoo, Derpy stared into the mirror and brushed her hair back to render her appearance at least somewhat professional. One of her golden irises stared back at her from the mirror. The other one seemed to be observing her efforts with the brush.

Derpy Hooves smiled at the mirror to see what it would look like when she smiled today. It was a vain practice born of habit. After all, the cracked glass never smiled back.

Derpy smiled at Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle smiled back and floated a stack of letters toward the mailpony with the pink glow of her magic.

"Sorry, Derpy."

Surrounding the two ponies who stood just outside the Ponyville Library was a beautiful spring morning. A few clouds drifted lazily above, birdsong twittered from the living branches of the giant tree that housed the library's interior, and Market Square absolutely bustled with the activities of ponies going about their daily business just out of earshot.

Derpy's ears drooped, but her characteristic smile stayed locked in place. "They're not yours? Are you sure?"

Twilight turned the sealed letters in midair so that Derpy could read them. "Yes, unless my name got changed to 'Hugh Jelly' sometime last night."

Taking the letters back in hoof, Derpy looked over them for a second longer than Twilight thought necessary before her somewhat dopey smile turned down a little. "Gee, I'm sorry, Twilight," she apologized as she tossed the stack back into the saddlebag on her left side and began rummaging through one on her right. "I really worked hard to get everything sorted this morning. I was sure I had it right this time."

Derpy's throat clenched painfully as she nosed through the various parcels. Mistakes like these demanded that she think about their cause, and she never liked to think about her job. She'd meant to sort the letters properly this morning, just as she'd meant to every other morning. Despite her efforts, every day came with more mistakes than the last.

"I wish I could say, 'that's okay,'" Twilight conferred in a gentle tone of voice, "but I really don't appreciate having to come out here every day and double-check your deliveries. Are you—" She paused, her violet eyes glancing left and right. "Are you sure that being a mailpony is a good use of your talents?"

Derpy pulled an encyclopedia-sized box from the saddlebag and turned back to Twilight with a strong and decisive movement. As Derpy allowed the package to leave her grip by way of Twilight's magic, she gave her bold answer in the form of a question. "What does that tell you?"

Twilight inspected the information on the package for a moment before looking up from it with an arched eyebrow. "That Mr. Cake is getting the replacement part for his busted mixer today." She turned the box around as Derpy's mouth dropped open. "It's even got the Sugarcube Corner logo printed right next to the delivery address."

Derpy fumed inwardly and fought to keep her facial expression cordial. "Sorry, Twilight," she sighed, though her mind played host to a mix of potent humiliation and impotent anger. She wanted very much to read about Daring Do's latest adventure and forget about this embarrassment. Even the knowledge that she'd read all those books did nothing to quell the desire. She leaned forward to retrieve her second mistake from midair. The motion was heavy and slow, too slow to stop a bouncing pink pony with a fluffy mane from plucking it away like a piece of low-hanging fruit.

"Ooh! It's finally here!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she twirled the package around like a dance partner. "Now I can start mixing things up again!"

Twilight chuckled at her friend's oddly-timed appearance. "I think you two have that market cornered, with or without the repair kit."

"Derpy's not a baker, Twilight," Pinkie stated matter-of-factly. "Did you go silly in the head from too much bookifying?"

Derpy felt a smile returning to her lips as the lump in her throat subsided. She plunged her muzzle into the depths of the right saddlebag for the third time.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "You're the one who's being silly, Pinkie. Sugarcube Corner has three industrial-grade mixers; all of them would have to break before you stopped mixing."

Pinkie waved a dismissive hoof at her friend and flashed a toothy grin. "Yeah, but Mr. and Mrs. Cake only let me use the one that breaks all the time."

Twilight's brow furrowed. "I'm sure that's a coincidence."

"Speaking of coincidences," Pinkie exclaimed, turning toward Derpy with an even more brilliant smile. "You are—like—the best mailpony ever! How did you know I was gonna walk by just now?"

Derpy nearly lost her grip on a couple of freshly-retrieved letters as she turned to face Pinkie with wide eyes. She'd never been called that before. Come to think of it, she'd never been called anything before . . . at least, not positive.

Pinkie Pie's gaze narrowed. "Do you have a 'Derpy Sense?'"

Twilight gently pushed Pinkie aside and eyeballed the letters. "Actually, I think she's got my mail."

"Oh well," Pinkie Pie remarked, tossing the repair kit onto her back with a carefree motion. "It's a mystery for another day. Thanks, Derpy!"

Twilight watched her friend bound off in the general direction of Sugarcube Corner before turning back to find a grinning Derpy, each of her two eyes looking at something that wasn't Twilight. She leaned forward and took hold of her correspondence.

"Best mailpony ever . . ." Derpy Hooves repeated in genuine awe.

Twilight bit her lower lip, but her words came out strong in the next moment. "We both know that was luck, Derpy. If you had the kind of talent that Pinkie's talking about, you wouldn't be making mistakes in the first place."

This time Derpy couldn't help but look crestfallen. The mailpony lowered her head in shame only to see a lavender-furred hoof reach over and touch her own.

"Listen," Twilight said, her voice growing softer and venturing down an octave. "If you're in love with the idea of delivering Ponyville's mail, then I've got no right to criticize your choices. I'm just worried that you're sinking all your time and effort into something that you're not suited for."

Derpy didn't raise her head.

"Even if there's some other kind of problem behind this," Twilight continued. "You know that you can ask for help anytime you need it, right?"

Derpy's head snapped back up in an alarming fashion, her left eye fixed directly on Twilight. "Uh-oh."

Twilight Sparkle cocked her head to the side. "What's 'uh-oh?'"

Derpy gulped. "I forgot something."

"Sure! I'll help anytime you need me to, Rainbow Dash," shouted Rainbow Dash from the demolished roof of Town Hall. "I distinctly remember somepony—you know, like the one who busted this roof in the first place—promising me that."

Derpy Hooves dug at the dirt near a pair of massive half-inch sheets of plywood. "Sorry, Rainbow Dash."

The cyan pegasus pony and her multi-hued mane poked out over the ledge above. "I asked you to schedule a day off two weeks ago, Derpy. You said you could handle this."

Derpy felt too embarrassed to meet her accuser's gaze. Try as she might, she couldn't find a single good reason for her lack of responsibility. "I just don't know what went wrong," she recited, immediately wincing as the phrase left her mouth.

Rainbow Dash's eyelids dropped halfway. "Yeah, I've heard that one before too." Her wings flew open, carried her aloft from the building's third story, and brought her to a soft landing within a few feet of the downcast mailmare.

Derpy gulped at her tightening throat muscles, ashamed at the number of mistakes she'd been making lately. However, when she looked into the magenta eyes of her superior she saw acceptance, even if only of the inevitable.

Rainbow Dash sighed and gave a toss of her mane as she walked forward. "Well, you're here now at least. The floor frame's already set thanks to some help I got earlier." She nudged at the top slab of plywood. "Here, help me get this on the deck—you'll have to stand on it so I can make a clean cut."

Grateful for the ease with which she'd been forgiven, Derpy took extra care in helping to lift the plywood and set it down on the porch deck of the building. Once it was flat, Rainbow Dash began lining up the guide marks on the sheet with the edge of the deck to ensure a result that matched the measurements of the third story.

"Rainbow," said Derpy, saccharine smile firmly back in place.. "Do you think I should quit being a mailpony?"

Rainbow Dash did not look up from her task. "What do you want to do instead?"

"I dunno. Twilight said I might be wasting my talents."

Rainbow gave a quizzical stare to her assistant before turning about to search through her toolbag. "What are your talents? I mean, besides breaking and forgetting stuff?"

"I dunno."

"Okay . . ." Rainbow drawled as she found the hoofsaw and laid it flat on the plywood. "What about your dreams? What do you want to do with your life anyway?"

Derpy's expression remained oddly transfixed. Her right eye drifted high and to the outside. Rainbow Dash was about to say something to break the awkward silence when Derpy's eyebrows drooped. Every movement of the gray pegasus's face made her unwavering smile look more out-of-place.

"I dunno."

Rainbow leaned forward over the plywood. "It sounds like you've got a lot to think about before you even consider giving up the one thing you've got going for you." She tapped her right hoof on the sheet. "Hop up on the deck and stand on this side, okay? Time to cut this bad boy down to size."

Derpy was about to comply when she felt a brisk tap on her shoulder. She turned about to stare up at a tall pegasus stallion wearing the saddlebags of the Ponyville Post Office. Her eyes came down to see an envelope in his outstretched hoof. Derpy retrieved it as an automatic response, not even having the chance to inquire as to the letter's contents before the lanky pony had already marched off.

Rainbow Dash twirled the hoofsaw recklessly. "What was that about?"

Derpy tore open the envelope with her teeth and unfolded the message inside. When she looked up at Rainbow Dash again, the corners of her mouth had finally turned down. "Looks like I don't have much of a choice anymore."

[Afternoon of Day 15]
"You never thought that you were in danger of being fired?" asked the Postmaster.

Derpy looked up at him with the wide-eyed innocence of a filly half her age. "No."

The Postmaster groaned and leaned forward on his oaken desk while rubbing at his temples. He was a middle-aged earth pony stallion, no longer in the prime of his life but equally far from prospects of retirement. He scratched at the graying stubble on his chin and briefly looked out the windows of his office to see numerous clerks sorting stacks of outgoing mail for shipment later in the day. The soundproofed windows muted the noise of the busy scene, but the sight itself seemed to lend him additional composure. His withering gaze returned to the gray pegasus before him.

"Derpy," the Postmaster began, "do you remember the stallion who summoned you to my office?"

"Yeah!" Derpy replied with the enthusiasm of a proud student.

"His name is Chuck Parcel," the Postmaster continued. "Do you know what his job is?"

"He's a mailpony," Derpy answered, glad that her boss had decided to give her a quiz instead of letting her go.

The Postmaster frowned. "His job is to follow behind you and correct all the mistakes you make."

"Wow," said Derpy. "I bet if he worked with me then I wouldn't screw up any more deliveries."

"Derpy Hooves," the Postmaster stated formally, pushing a pink Notice of Termination across the desk. "He can do your job by himself." There was a pause as he watched the corners of the Derpy's mouth come down a bit. "Flawlessly."

As Derpy took hold of the notice, there was a tapping at the office door. The Postmaster held up a "one moment" hoof to the pony on the other side of the glass.

"Now I want you to know that this isn't personal," said the grizzled earth pony in a more comforting tone. "I'm not doing this because I'm angry at you. I simply can't justify paying two ponies for a job that one pony can do."

Derpy didn't look up from reading the notice.

"This isn't Canterlot," the Postmaster continued, "so I can't refer you to the Department of Labor. However, if you look at the bottom of the form you'll see the names and addresses of Ponyville's volunteer social workers—"

"My apartment," Derpy blurted out as she brought her gaze up to meet the Postmaster's. "It's low rent, but you have to have proof of employment." The corners of her mouth twitched nervously. The usual cheer had departed from her voice. "They're gonna get a copy of this?"

The Postmaster remained stone-faced. "Official notices are sent out at the start of each business day. You know that, Derpy."

"I'll be evicted the same day!" Derpy yelped before shrinking back from her own outburst in the very next instant.

"If that's the case, then you'd best be going," the Postmaster replied while gesturing toward the door. "Not much time to pack before the sun goes down."

For the first time since the Postmaster had known her, Derpy proved capable of taking a hint. She turned to the exit, casting only a single glance back at her former supervisor before opening the door. Standing before her was a well-dressed earth pony mare whose blue eyes stared down at Derpy through a pair of gold-framed reading glasses. The mare said nothing, but Derpy felt her heart sink and her throat swell. Seeing a mare nearly the same age as herself but visually at the height of personal success caused everything about her present situation to become mercilessly clear. Feeling red-hot with shame, Derpy continued past the mare without a word.

"Come in, please," declared the Postmaster.

The fuchsia-hued mare stepped into his office, her brilliant red hair and its single white streak wound tightly into a bun. Her blouse, tie, business jacket, skirt, and the armband worn on the outside of the jacket told the Postmaster that he was looking at a government agent, but this particular combination of white, dark green, and red colors did not belong to any department that he was aware of. He cleared his throat.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss . . ."

"Three Strike," the earth pony answered, her modest golden necklace and earrings dancing about as she walked. "Although you may call me 'Miss Strike.'"

As Derpy closed the front door of her apartment behind her, she realized that the air inside hadn't changed at all. It was just warm enough to make her skin feel sticky and it smelled even more heavily of burnt muffins, despite the fact that the packaged ones on the counter looked just as they had when she'd bought them.

Derpy allowed the Termination Notice from the Post Office and the Immediate Eviction Notice she'd torn from the nail on her door to fall from her grip as she once again maneuvered between stacks of books and magazines, many of which she'd never actually read. The magazines kept showing up in her mailbox no matter what she did to stop the influx. She hadn't even thought about going through the effort to throw them away before the whole mess became too cumbersome to deal with on her own. The books had been recommendations from Rainbow Dash, and Derpy could even remember having once enjoyed them. However, a feeling of tension in her chest had begun to overtake her every time she dove into the fantasy between the pages. That same feeling now gripped her fiercely, and she had no idea now how to make it go away.

In the emptiness created by her lack of knowledge, a gruff and familiar voice began to speak. Life is a battle that we have no choice but to fight each and every day. It's silly to think that you can win. Surviving is the best that anypony who isn't kidding themselves could hope for.

Derpy's mouth dried up as her father's words began to echo in her troubled mind. She reached over to the linoleum counter that bordered the one-pony kitchen and pulled the muffin box toward her. She opened it to find three of the four lemon poppyseed muffins in tantalizing condition. In spite of the fact that her tightening throat felt as if it couldn't handle a single straw of hay, Derpy took a bite from one of the muffins, desperate for the comforting solace that always accompanied the savory sweetness within.

Derpy spat out the bit of muffin on the floor and gagged. She looked hard at the half-chewed mess, and then at the rest of the muffin. It had tasted like dirt, chalky and full of grit. She dropped the muffin and took a step backwards. The muffins aren't bad, Derpy thought. The one I had yesterday was yummy. She remembered having tasted dirt before, when she forgot to close her mouth before getting her face shoved to the ground by a bully. The muffin didn't go bad, she realized, her eyes widening as she stumbled backward through the piles of literature and unassembled furniture components.

I went bad.

Derpy tripped over a stack of "Daring Do" novels and landed heavily on her flank. She wasn't sure whether the crack she heard came from the floor or from somewhere inside her own head. A rushing river of painful memories and genuine hopelessness broke upon her mind with terrible force, as if it had been straining against a dam of self-delusion for years beforehand. Her eyes darted across the walls, looking desperately for anything that could stem the venomous tide. Half-built bookshelves leaning against peeling wallpaper only reminded her of her tendency to leave things unfinished. Purple medals from any number of Young Flyers camps and competitions only emphasized the consistency of her failures.

Derpy's gaze finally came to rest on a tiny, poorly-taken picture sitting on the counter—her only possession when she'd first moved in. She knew what it was, but got up to have a closer look anyway. It was a photograph of her standing beside her father from the end of a "Bring Your Daughter to Work Day" at a Cloudsdale Weather Manufacturing Plant. The glare from a nearby metal silo obscured the form of her younger self, but her father's perpetually unenthusiastic stare presented itself in the finest detail.

Derpy felt the muscles in her face contract. Tears welled in her eyes, and her skin began to alternate between the tingling feeling that one gets after having let a limb fall asleep and flat-out numbness. Her body felt hotter than every single stove-top she'd burned herself on while trying to learn how to cook. Pain lanced through her brain, stronger than that of any bone she'd broken while learning how to fly. Her teeth ground against each other hard enough that she knew one of them would crack any moment now. She raised her front-right hoof in a way that she had only ever seen others do with the intention of violence.

The room smelled like burnt muffins and the ringing noise was everywhere. Derpy's hoof came down like a hammer.

[Evening of Day 15]

Knock, knock, knock.

The half-circle upper portion of the tripartite wooden door opened to reveal a lavender unicorn, her surprised face bathed in the fading crimson light of sunset.

"Derpy?"

"Hi, Twilight," replied the smiling gray pegasus with a shuffle of her muffin-clip saddlebags. Derpy hoped that the light was hiding any remaining redness in her eyes.

A bit of silence followed.

"Did you forget something from earlier?" Twilight asked innocently before giving a sly smile. "Still got some of my mail in those bags?"

The corners of Derpy's mouth ached for some reason. "Can I—" A flood of inexplicable dread washed over her.

Derpy shook it off. "Can I come in for a bit?"

"Sure!" Twilight chirped, pushing open the door's lower halves and extending a hoof into the well-lit library that doubled as her home. "You need to talk about something?"

"Yeah," was all that Derpy could manage as she walked indoors and focused her mind on the movements of her legs to ensure their stability. She lost that focus and nearly tripped when her eyes met with the library's interior. Rows upon rows of massive bookshelves hewn into the fragrant wood of the tree's interior towered in her vision, all of them perfectly organized and dustless. The hardwood floor shone from repeated polishings. Even the lamps looked as if they'd all just had their oil filled.

"I'd put some tea on," Twilight said as she closed the front door, "but that's one of the things that Spike went to get from the general store before they close." She rolled her eyes and made her way toward the round table at the middle of the room. "It doesn't seem to matter how closely I follow the checklists; we always run out of something at just the wrong time." She stopped just before reaching the table. "Do you want to sit down, or . . ."

Derpy did want to sit on the comfortable-looking wooden stool and have some delicious tea. The moment that she realized this, she viciously squashed both desires and forced her scratchy voice into action. "I got fired from the Post Office today."

Twilight lifted a front hoof. "That's awful, Derpy! Why did they—" She stopped the question and bit her lip. "I mean, are you—"

"I got kicked out of my apartment because I don't have a job anymore," Derpy interrupted. "I didn't get the deposit back 'cause the place was a mess. I could only take what would fit into my saddlebags 'cause I didn't have anything else to pack with. I don't have enough bits for a hotel tonight and I—" She paused in apprehension. "Um, I don't have anywhere to go."

Twilight's mouth hung agape. Derpy had expected that. Anypony would be surprised to have somepony who wasn't even their friend lay such a boatload of concerns at their hooves. What Derpy didn't expect was when the librarian's expression began to show indications of what Derpy could only see as frustration. I knew this was stupid, she thought. Ponies offer to help all the time, but it's really just good manners.

"Are you . . . upset?" asked Twilight.

The question snapped Derpy's attention back from her internal feud. "Yeah, why?"

"You just told me about how your life fell apart in a matter of hours like you're reading off of a grocery checklist," Twilight replied, her eyes searching Derpy's features in studious fashion. "And you're grinning like you just won the lottery."

What? Derpy's mind thought even as her mouth listed off the last item on her mental checklist. "You were one of the social workers on the paper that my boss gave me . . ." The sentence trailed off. I'm smiling?

"Oh," Twilight responded, averting her gaze and lifting a hoof to her chin. "So that's what this is."

That's not what this is, Derpy thought, but her mouth did nothing.

Twilight moved back toward the door, talking over her shoulder as she went. "Well, I'm probably not the best choice to handle your case, Derpy. I've never actually managed one on my own before. Still, I can get you into a shelter for the night and put you in contact with—"

"My dad told me to smile," Derpy blurted out.

Twilight stopped and turned around. Derpy remained at the table, the trembling of her forelegs plainly visible even from behind.

"You never think about the burden you put on others," Derpy continued, speaking for the voice behind her ears in an even tone. "Everypony has their own things to take care of, and you'd best believe that nopony wants to see those crocodile tears. Just keep smiling. Don't bother nopony with that sad-sack of a face you've got on. Either handle your own problem or just shut up about it; most problems go away on their own anyhow."

Derpy Hooves turned about slowly. Her eyes had become so bloodshot that nary a hint of white remained in them. Tears streamed down her cheeks in constant rivulets. Her mouth shook and struggled to keep her words coherent between sobs. "I thought I was being a good pony, Twilight. I was taking care of myself, and nopony needed to worry about me. I did everything Dad taught me, but now I can't even take care of myself anymore. I don't think that I ever really could."

Twilight shifted on her hooves for a moment as a strangled sob cut Derpy's explanation short, but stopped when the distraught pony's voice came back louder than before

"He was a stupid pony, wasn't he?" Derpy nearly shouted, the burning pain in her esophagus choking back half of her intended volume. "And I'm a stupid pony for listening to him. I'm not in love with delivering mail. I've spent all this time trying not to be a bother. I never even thought about trying to be something else! I've been getting out of everypony's way for so long that I . . . I don't even have a way for myself anymore."

Derpy hung her head and allowed her tears to drop onto the perfect floor below. "I just . . . I just don't know what to do. What are you supposed to do when everything you know how to do doesn't work? Whatever it is . . . I don't think I can do it on my own."

It took all of Derpy's remaining strength not to break down and sob her eyes out. There had never been any need for reservation in the lonely places where these feelings usually came to the fore. In front of a pony whom she'd just asked the impossible of, she was certain that the act would only serve as the final nail in her coffin.

Silence hung on the air for what must have been minutes. Derpy didn't dare look up after belting out such a humiliating monologue, but her ears worked just fine.

Knock, knock, knock.

Derpy's heart froze with fear as she listened to the metallic click of Twilight unlatching the front door. She felt totally drained from her outburst and lacked even the wherewithal to hide her shameful state. The door creaked open.

"Hello," a mature and unfamiliar voice sounded from the doorway. "Would you happen to be Miss Twilight Sparkle?"

"I am," Twilight answered curtly, "and I'm also very busy at the moment. If you wouldn't mind coming back tomorrow or—"

"I would mind, actually," the older voice interrupted. "You see, the last train for Canterlot will be departing in 45 minutes, and I don't intend on boarding without completing my allotted task. Is a 'Miss Derpy Hooves' currently visiting?"

Curiosity overcame Derpy. She chanced a look only to have her mouth fall open in the same instant. It was the mare from the Post Office! The last rays of the sun gave her red hair the luminescence of an open flame and cast her face in a hue much darker than Derpy remembered. She looked down at Derpy through her gold-framed reading glasses with an almost tangible air of cool professionalism.

"Yes," Twilight answered in an ascending tonal scale. "And you would know this because?"

"Forgive me," the mare said with with dubious sincerity as she pulled out a badge of office. "My name is Three Strike and I am an agent of the Bureau of Social Corrections. We received notice of Miss Hooves's termination early this morning and, as part of a routine check, found that she not only lacks the resources to further sustain herself but also has little chance of finding new employment due to her limited skill set." She straightened her glasses. "In situations that create an indefensible burden for the local community, the Bureau steps in to relocate the offender to a reeducation facility for the benefit of the hardworking citizens of Equestria."

Twilight seemed to process this for a moment before responding. "I've never heard of that Bureau."

Three Strike's eyes narrowed. "With respect, Miss Sparkle, not even the 'number-one student' of Princess Celestia can be expected to have intimate knowledge of all the workings in Equestria's government structure." She raised her head a bit to look down her nose at Twilight. "Because we have no photograph of Miss Hooves on record, I've been one step behind her for most of the day and I have little patience remaining. I do, however, still carry the full power and authority of the Equestrian Diarchy to relocate the offender within your residence. Please move aside unless you wish to stand in defiance of that which I represent."

Twilight's back hooves shifted. "You'll have to give me just a second, Miss Strike. I promise you won't be late for the train!" She quickly shut the door before the agent had a chance to respond.

"Offender?" Twilight thought aloud as she leaned back against the door. "She's talking like she's got an arrest warrant." Her eyes widened. "And what the hay is a 'reeducation facility'? That sounds like code-speak for a prison . . ." Twilight's voice faded as she looked back toward Derpy.

The gray pegasus sat up straight to meet her gaze. She had wiped the tears from her sore, itching eyes and the sobs were gone from her voice. Derpy did her best to smile and said, "You don't have to worry, Twilight. I'll go with Miz Strike. I think I've already caused enough trouble."

Derpy found Twilight's next expression thoroughly unreadable. The unicorn's eyes opened wider and her pupils dilated as if in surprise, but her brow furrowed and her mouth transitioned into a stolid grimace.

"What do you want to do?" asked Twilight.

"Huh?"

"What do you want to do, Derpy?" Twilight repeated with emphasis as Three Strike began to knock at the door. "I can't believe that you'd actually make a decision like this based solely on what's convenient for me. Stop thinking about what's best for other ponies. I need to know what you want."

Taken aback at the request, Derpy slowly looked up toward the ceiling. It rose more than twice as high as the ceiling of her old apartment. In place of the sloppy painted textures, a beautiful hoof-carved pattern rose to a shallow point high above her head. It became crystal-clear to her in that moment, looking up at that open space made by skillful craft. The thoughtless array of scattered paint that hung above her futon was the only mirror in her apartment that reflected how she felt about herself. Her mind cast aside the language of that ceiling and sought out the words belonging to the one above her now.

Derpy’s search yielded only vague hopes where her honest desires should have been. The icy chill of panic coursed through her veins. How could she be expected to give voice to something that she’d suppressed for so long? What did Twilight expect her to say? Her throat dried up and her mind froze with fear. However, in the silence punctuated only by the knocking on the library door, a faint voice that was nothing like her father’s echoed from somewhere deep inside Derpy’s consciousness.

Never forget your courageous heart.

"This," Derpy blurted out with a wave of her hoof. "I want this." When Twilight returned her words with naught but a quizzical stare, Derpy blushed heavily. "I mean, not exactly this but . . . you know, a home." She smiled at the thought. "Family, friends . . . a real life, not another fake one that goes away when I close the book." Her eyes met with Twilight's and, for once, agreed upon where they'd look. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I wanna be like you, Twilight." A moment of silence followed, causing Derpy to wilt. "Is . . . is that bad?"

Twilight gave a heavy sigh, smiled ruefully, and opened the door, nearly getting clobbered by a hastily-halted knock in the process. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Strike, but you'll be going back to Canterlot empty-hooved. I'm taking responsibility for Derpy as my dependent from this moment forward."

Three Strike recoiled and let out a short, high-pitched whinny. "E-excuse me?"

Twilight grinned. "And don't think for a minute that the police are going to help you force the issue. You're sure to get the same answer from any pony in Ponyville; we're pretty serious about taking care of our own."

"Now, be reasonable, Miss Twilight," the agent chided, evening out her tone and straightening her posture. "You're already caring for a baby dragon and your duties to Princess Celestia must be quite tiring. To take on such a burden is—"

"My choice," Twilight interrupted. "Besides, I'm not taking on a burden." She turned back to Derpy for a moment and flashed a genuine smile in the rose-hued light. "Friends don't weigh anything at all, 'cause they lift you right back."

The statement struck Derpy with both intense relief and a vague sense of deja vu, although she was sure that she'd never heard that particular expression before.

Three Strike's brow furrowed deeply, her blue irises staring at Twilight with unbridled ferocity. "I understand that being so close to the princess has a way of inflating one's ego, but you simply don't have the authority to cancel this relocation." She smiled in the same manner that a timber wolf might snarl. "Now get out of my way before I have to take this to a higher authority."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Twilight shot back. "Ready to take a letter, Spike?" she shouted to someone outside of Derpy's line of sight.

"Yo!" a masculine voice replied from some distance away.

Three Strike looked less sure of herself. "A letter?"

"I have this little direct connection to the princess through my 'baby' dragon's Emerald Flame," Twilight stated in jocular fashion. "We'll just send a quick message to her about this and see what she has to say about this 'relocation' of yours." Her tone shifted from joking to mocking.. "Want to place a bet on who she'll side with?"

"Wouldn't bet on the stuffed suit," Spike remarked as he edged past both the doorway's occupants with a cumbersome load of paper grocery bags in tow. "Oh! Hi, Derpy! What're you doin' here this late?"

Derpy felt too overwhelmed to even consider replying.

Three Strike lowered her glasses, all pretense gone from her face. "You think you're terribly clever, don't you?"

Twilight shifted a bit at the look of unrestrained hostility, but her voice betrayed nothing. "It's not a matter of theory, Miss Strike."

The agent's expression began to resemble that of some sort of feral creature. Derpy found herself preparing to leap to Twilight's defense, but the look disappeared from Three Strike's face as quickly as it had first shown itself. Feigning professionalism, the agent turned on her heels and stormed off, calling back over her shoulder, "I wish you good luck in keeping that position of yours, Miss Sparkle. I have a feeling that you'll run out of it before this matter is over and done with."

"Good luck coming up with a decent threat next time," Spike remarked casually as he carried the paper bags into the kitchen.

"Okay," Twilight Sparkle began as she spread a fluffy plaid comforter over the bed. "You can use this guest bedroom for as long as you need to, provided that you keep it just as clean as the rest of the library." She adjusted the cover in an effort to ensure that it was perfectly even. "Spike serves breakfast at seven, lunch at one, and dinner at six. I'll have him cook an extra portion for you, but no snacking allowed, okay? If you want to do that, you'll have to find a way to pay for it on your own."

Twilight sighed and looked about. "You know, this used to be the Librarian's Office before I moved in. I like to keep my studies closer to my bed, so I didn't have much use for it until Applejack and Rarity got trapped here during a storm." She giggled. "They had such a problem sleeping in the same upstairs bed that I swore I'd convert this into a guest room the very next day. What do you think of my efforts?"

Derpy Hooves smiled dreamily back at her from across the bed. "Cool."

Twilight's right eyebrow went up. "Derpy, you've barely said two words in a row ever since I sent Miss Strike packing. Is there something bugging you?"

Derpy's eyes avoided Twilight's gaze in different directions. "Did you mean it when you said we were friends?"

"Of course," Twilight replied cheerily. "Why do you ask?"

Derpy drooped her head forward onto the comforter. "I don't see why you'd want to be."

Twilight rested her own head and forelegs on the opposite side. "Honestly, I hadn't much considered the idea before today. I changed my mind because I saw something that I hadn't taken the time to see before." She smiled warmly. "You're a good pony, Derpy."

The pegasus mare blushed. "I don't think so."

"Really?" Twilight questioned. "What about when you were ready to go to whatever awful place Miss Strike was calling a 'reeducation facility' just so that you wouldn't get me in trouble?"

"That was—" Derpy began to respond without thinking.

"That was you being considerate of me," Twilight interrupted. "Even after you realized that it was a mistake to do that all the time, and even though it was of no benefit to you, you still tried to help me."

Derpy's expression turned to pure wonder. It really had felt different to deliberately risk her own happiness for somepony else's.

"I didn't have any pony friends when I came to this town," Twilight continued in a somewhat somber tone of voice, "and I didn't intend on making any either. I made an effort to sound obstinate, but I was really thinking things like, 'Who would want me for a friend?' and, 'I'd just be butting in on their lives.'" An obvious smile returned to the unicorn's face. "But the ponies who became my best friends saw through my act and decided to bet on the good that they saw underneath. Now, I want to make that same bet on you."

"Thanks, Twilight," Derpy mumbled, her face having turned beet red. She looked up from the comforter. "Was that what you were writing about in your diary earlier?"

"Diary?" Twilight asked, raising her head from her hooves. "Oh! You mean the letter to Princess Celestia?"

"You write her letters?" Derpy wondered aloud.

"Well, to be accurate, I write 'reports' to her," Twilight elaborated as she rose from the bed. "It's part of my continuing studies on the Magic of Friendship." She paused for a moment before beaming enthusiasm overwhelmed her expression. "You want to give it a try?"

Derpy drew back a bit. "I wouldn't know what to say to the princess."

"It's nothing too formal," Twilight coaxed as she moved toward the door to the main library. "You just honestly tell the princess anything that you learned recently about friendship." She poked her head out the bedroom door. "Ready to take another letter, Spike?"

The violet-scaled dragon hung upside down from above the doorway, quill pen and parchment in hand. "As always."

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Were you eavesdropping?"

Spike waved a clawed hand dismissively. "Twilight, when I drop some eaves, you'll know it."

Twilight groaned. "Uh-huh. Do me a favor and look up the word 'eaves' when you're done, okay?" She turned to the room's third occupant. "Don't be shy, Derpy. Just tell Spike anything you learned about friendship today."

Derpy contemplated this for nearly a half-minute before raising her suddenly confident and cheerful gaze to meet Spike's. "Dear Princess Celestia," she began. "Twilight is the best pony."

Silence hung in the air and a powerful blush arose on Twilight's face. She opened her mouth to respond.

"In the whole world." Derpy continued.

A few seconds passed.

"Is . . . is that it?" Twilight ventured cautiously.

"The End," Derpy concluded with pride.

Twilight's mouth hung open as Spike dissolved into chuckles. "Well, it—" she stuttered. "It has to be a bit longer than that, Derpy. We can't send—"

FWOOSH!

The parchment disappeared in a flash of green flame that burst forth from Spike's mouth. He grinned mischievously. "Man, I’m gonna love reading the reply to that one."

When Derpy began to laugh at Spike getting smacked down from his perch by an enraged Twilight, she marveled at how unfamiliar it felt. Had it really been so long since she'd expressed real joy? The introspective thought came to a quick end when yawns interrupted her giggles. Thankfully, Twilight was quick to notice this. She excused herself and the misbehaving Spike from the room while bidding her new friend goodnight.

Derpy gazed about the cozy room and blew out the lantern lights one-by-one, gazing in awe at just how pretty and inviting everything looked compared to the place she'd lived in just hours before. The tired and preoccupied pegasus mare tripped over her saddlebags, spilling a few of the contents across the floor as she fought to regain her balance. A surge of embarrassed anger washed over her mind just before a strange sight extinguished it.

A silver necklace bearing an amber pendant lay on the floor, glittering even in the darkened room. Derpy lifted the beautiful object with a careful hoof and squinted at the flickering glow within the gemstone. Did I own something like this? Her attempt to recall the necklace's origin brought forth only a powerful yawn from a mind too worn-out for curiosity. Derpy deposited the pendant on the nightstand and proceeded to bury herself deep in the bed's incredibly cozy covers, resolving to confront the mystery item at a later date as her mind drifted off into slumber.

Bits and pieces of a muffled conversation could still be heard from the room beyond.

"Letter's here!"

"So quick? I hope Derpy's didn't bump into this one on its way."

"I don't . . . works like that. Anyhow, what's it say?"

" . . ."

"I was right. There is no Bureau of Social Corrections."

"So Miss Strike was a total phony? Why even make up all that stuff? Who would go that far just to get to Derpy?"

"Can't say for sure, Spike. You know what this means though, right?"

"That the one who . . . is still out there?"

"Yep. Get a message ready for the Sheriff's Department. We finally have a suspect."

Three Strike marched briskly through the streets of Ponyville in the murky twilight that followed the last rays of sunset. Various building tenants stepped outside to light the many lamps that would provide illumination for the town's nightlife. Her brow remained contorted with anger and she bit roughly at her lower lip. Putting a hoof through the gold ring at the end of the hairpin that held her bun in place, she pulled with a fearsome flourish and released her mane. The hair immediately bounced back into its naturally fluffy state, almost frizzy from being pent up for so long. Three Strike felt a mild sense of relief as her hair fell free, but nothing could truly quell her anger at the moment.

"Oh! Hello there, Pinkie Pie," sounded a soft and demure voice from behind. The canary yellow pegasus mare named Fluttershy trotted forward with a bag of goods from the general store balanced carefully on her back. "What're you doing out so late? See, I accidentally ran out of—"

Three Strike whirled on the unfortunate pegasus with a furious glare, her eyes practically aglow in the dim light.

Fluttershy recoiled and nearly dropped her bag. "Oh my," she exclaimed, her voice taking on the quality of a frightened half-whisper. "I'm—um—I'm so sorry. Y-you're not Pinkie." Her voice locked up under the stranger's imposing stare. She gulped loudly. "M-my mistake?" The glare continued unabated. Fluttershy forced a timid smile and rushed headlong through her next words. "Nohardfeelings? That'sgoodokaybyethen."

Three Strike watched the pegasus mare bolt off into the dim light and smirked. "Kindness, huh?" she muttered upon resuming course. She tossed her hair back, feeling just a bit lighter on her hooves than she had a few moments ago. "Maybe those six won't be so hard to deal with after all."

~End E01~

NEXT
Amethyst 1A: "Night Raid"

A1A: Night Raid [Ø]

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Amethyst 1A: "Night Raid"

[Night of Day 15]
The darkness of night had descended like a comforting blanket on the streets of Ponyville, its cool breeze washing away the warmth and mild humidity of the day as the lamps on every building bathed the town in an alluring golden glow. Most of the hardworking citizens were just now settling down to a home-cooked dinner, but plenty of night-owls had already flooded into the pubs. Their carousing echoed across Market Square, adding a good measure of homely cheer to the evening's ambiance.

Twilight Sparkle and Spike stood at the edge of a streetlamp's glow in an alleyway across from the three-story Ponyville Country Inn. The unicorn kept her movements subdued, flinching at any noise whose source she could not see. The juvenile dragon, however, leaned casually against a wall and yawned.

"Are you sure Brass Badge said to meet him here?" Spike asked, his tone halfway between curiosity and complaint.

Twilight turned her gaze from the inn to her assistant, accidentally staring at his midriff before moving up to meet his eyes. "Y-yes, of course I'm sure," she replied, still unused to the dragon's growth spurt that had brought his standing height level with her own. "And don't let Mr. Badge catch you calling him anything but 'Sheriff' unless you've got an appetite for community service."

"Uptight much?" Spike remarked.

"I can't say that he doesn't suffer from a bit of 'blue-uniform-itis,'" responded a husky voice from the darkness, "but Sheriff Badge is a good officer, if Ponyville's crime rate is any indication."

An earth pony stallion of medium build wearing a tan overcoat and fedora stepped into the soft golden light. His fur was a particularly dark brown. His tousled hair bore the same color, only a few shades milder. The shadow of the fedora's brim hid most of his bestubbled face from view, but his honest blue eyes shone through clearly.

The stallion cleared his throat. "Are you Miss Twilight Sparkle?"

Twilight stared at him with a slight tilt of her head. "I am. And you are?"

The stallion opened his overcoat to reveal a gleaming badge of office. "Detective Liner, Canterlot P.D. — Violent Crimes Unit. I've been assigned to take over as this case's head investigator." He offered a friendly hoof that bore an expensive silver watch. "It's an honor, Miss Sparkle."

"It's a relief on my end," Twilight sighed as she shook the stallion's hoof. "For a moment there, I thought we'd picked the wrong alley." She gestured toward a young dragon scaled in equal parts violet and green. "This is my assistant Spike."

Liner gave a warm smile. "A rare pleasure to work with a dragon, Master Spike."

"Yessir, Detective," Spike replied, straightening his pose to match the authority figure's praise.

Liner nodded and walked forward to get a better look at the inn. "The timing of your letter was fortunate; it dropped onto the desk between the sheriff and I just after he got done briefing me on the situation thus far. We were able to act on the information immediately."

"Is the sheriff already inside?" Twilight asked.

Liner looked toward a two-story house on the right side of the inn. "He's in the pub with Deputy Surefire. Deputy Warrant and a pair of my officers have the inn's exits covered. The inn's proprietor confirmed Three Strike's presence in Room 208 just over an hour ago via the cleaning staff." He paused. "It's funny, I didn't expect the perp to slip up like this after leaving Sheriff Badge not a single trail to follow at the first crime scene."

"She did seem a bit out-of-sorts earlier," Twilight commented. "Though I'm not sure how much of that is my fault."

Spike stepped forward. "Why do you keep looking at that other building?"

"Civilian volunteer in the second-story bedroom," Liner replied. "She'll signal us when she spots Miss Strike's shadow in Room 208. At that point, we'll—"

The lights in the bedroom of the two-story house came on.

"Okay, that's our cue," Liner said quickly, a bit more verve making its way into his tone. He turned to the alley's other two occupants. "When I give the word, walk with me to the inn. Be sure to stay casual—208 has a partial view of the entrance." He extended the crook of his front-left leg. "If you'd be so kind, Miss Sparkle."

Twilight looked taken aback. "E-excuse me?"

"Miss Strike's seen you before," said Liner. "If you approach alone, it'll look suspicious. On the other hoof, if she thinks you're on a beeline from the pub . . ."

Twilight's face reddened, though her logical mind agreed with the detective's reasoning. Spike moved both hands to his mouth to suppress a chuckle.

Just a few buildings down from the alley, the pub's doors swung open to reveal Sheriff Brass Badge and Deputy Surefire. The two officers, both decked out in black & white suits with matching black fedoras, bore a large rectangular instrument case between them as they meandered about on a zigzag course toward the inn.

Liner emphasized his leg motion as he watched them advance. "Come on, we're up."

Leaving hesitation behind, Twilight put her front-right leg through the crook of the detective's and leaned on him slightly as they began their approach. Her heart was racing—due to the tension, she hoped—and she made a concerted effort not to react to the strong smell of Liner's aftershave. She chanced a look back to see Spike moving just behind them, improvising as a creepy, leering onlooker. It occurred to Twilight that he looked a bit too natural in the role.

The sheriff and deputy entered the building without so much as a glance at the trio. Twilight and Liner pushed through the oaken doors just a few seconds later and stepped into the warm lighting of the Country Inn's modest lobby. The inn's interior emulated Ponyville's signature rustic charm by giving the appearance that it had all originally been built from a humble ranch house, even though most of the town's residents regarded the approach as a bit on the tacky side.

Detective Liner led Twilight to sit with him on a wooden bench in the waiting area, giving a nod to the inn's owner, a heavy-set mustachioed stallion who had taken the place of the night receptionist at the counter. Sheriff Badge and Deputy Surefire dropped their musician disguises by setting down the oversized instrument case and opening it to reveal a standard-issue battering ram. Spike moved to sit across from the two of them, issuing forth a giddy smile as the ram-carriers ventured calmly up the carpeted staircase to the second story. Brass Badge stood the heavy device up against a hoofrail and leaned on it casually while Surefire moved down the hallway. Twilight heard a sharp knock followed by a soft tenor voice.

"Excuse me, Miss Strike? This is housekeeping. We neglected to leave you some fresh towels for your evening shower. Would you mind opening up for a moment?" There was a pause. "Miss Strike, are you in there?"

After a longer pause, Sheriff Badge gave a broad smile to the occupants of the room below and hefted the ram onto his muscular shoulders.

"Okay gentlemen," Detective Liner said calmly as he rose from his seat and slipped on a pair of black shades. "Batter up."

NEXT
Episode 02: "Tough Crowd"

E02: Tough Crowd [Ø]

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NOW

Near-total darkness eclipsed the guest room of the Ponyville Library, only the faintest hint of the golden light from outside making its way to the room's interior. Derpy Hooves lay face-up and spread-eagled under the covers of her bed. Thunderous snores issued forth from her mouth as it widened and contracted. In the midst of deepest slumber, the pegasus mare remained unaware of the bubble coming from her nose that expanded with every exhale. She also paid no heed to the bright glow of the amber pendant on her bedside table. The jewel shone with a brilliant fire from within, not reflecting any of the light from the window. As it began to cast a pale radiance across the ceiling, another pony appeared in the room.

The door had not opened. The window remained shut. Even so, a gray-furred earth pony mare took hold of the chair from a nearby desk and moved it to the side of the bed. Planting herself onto the cushioned seat, she placed a large leather-bound book on the bed and stared at the sleeping Derpy with wistful violet eyes. She leaned forward and opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound issued forth. The mare looked away, then gave up on the notion entirely, slumping back into the chair and brushing her long black mane out of her eyes. The book flew open, seemingly of its own accord. The light from the amber pendant danced across the pages. The earth pony mare drew in a deep breath.

"The reading is from the Lost History," she said, her voice possessing all the elegance of a finely-tuned pipe organ. "First Book of Kings, Chapter 16, Verse 12." Her lips gave a soft smile. Her violet eyes shone with an ethereal light. "Let us be attentive."

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
Episode 02: "Tough Crowd"

The trees flew by on all sides at a rapid pace, many of them bearing strange, faintly luminescent red sacs that Derpy did not recognize. All around her were the sounds of panting, grunting, and the occasional vicious shout. Earth pony and pegasus stallions of wildly differing builds charged forth into the underbrush to her front and - as she determined by glancing about - they were indeed all around her. The mass of ponies wore varying degrees of leather and metallic armor, the latter type creating a great clanking cacophony as they ran at full speed. The shouts became clearer to her ears as she grew accustomed to the racket.

"Get that scum-suckin' bushwhacker!"

"Lily-livered frog-walloper! Our steel wants your flesh!"

Much to Derpy's surprise, she found her own voice joining in. "Goose-stepping dandy-hooves! Get your flank back here!"

Derpy's mind reeled. That rustic baritone voice could not have been hers, yet she had felt her mouth move and her vocal chords resonate just as if it had been. Other oddities began to hit Derpy all at once. To be in the middle of this crowd, she'd have to be running. She felt her legs moving, but they seemed to do so of their own accord. She attempted to stop and found that her legs paid no heed to the command. She was able to look about, but was doubly alarmed by the lack of any sensation that she had turned her head. Derpy gulped back the fear that was rising from her gut and experimented a bit. With a strangely painless ease, Derpy discovered that she could turn completely backward and look at the battle-scarred, almost savage faces of the stallions to her rear.

What the hay is going on here?!

The ragtag group of armored stallions came to a slow halt as the first orange hues of sunset began to show on the cloudy sky above the treeline. They quickly established a circular formation, brandishing a wide variety of evil-looking weapons outward from the center to oppose incoming threats.

A particular pegasus stallion emerged from the group with a confident, powerful stride. His rust-colored coat seemed to reflect the increasingly orange light of day's end. His leather armor looked more casual than the getups of most of his entourage and was partially hidden by a brown traveler's cloak. He possessed only three distinct markings: his wide-brimmed hat with a white feather plume, his unusually close-shaven blonde mane, and a Cutie Mark that resembled a chain & shackles.

The pegasus snorted. "How in the blazes of Tartarus did you idiots lose him?"

"He's a slippery one, Chief," came a hapless voice from somewhere toward the back. "He was a-divin' 'hind every bush n' branch in this godforsaken patch o' woods."

The chief groaned. "Imagine that, a fugitive taking cover behind trees in a bleeding forest!" His wicked eyes cast about dangerously from underneath the brim of his hat. "Might as well be draggin' along a boatload of foals; at least I could sell that lot!"

"He's over there!" came a shout from the far end of the circle. "I saw 'im duck behind that log!"

The chief immediately spotted the fallen tree in the direction that they'd come from; it was the only one large enough to hide a pony and sure enough, the leaves of a bush behind the tree were rustling with movement.

"Well?!" he shouted angrily. "What are you dolts waiting for, a bucking invitation? Get him!"

The mass of stallions lurched as one before charging off in a storm of thundering hooves and a shower of leaves and loam. One pegasus, however, only moved with the crowd for a few seconds before coming to a halt. He wore the helmet and hastily-attached breastplate of a stolen set of bronze armor, which he now discarded to reveal a simple grass-colored cloth shirt and traveler's harness underneath. His slate-gray fur and straight white mane contrasted with his wiry, muscular build, and the black leather-wrapped handle of a claymore protruded from underneath his unassuming cloak.

The gray pegasus stallion chuckled softly to himself, watching the group that he'd been a part of charging off after the wild pig he'd spied a few moments earlier. As he turned about to leave his pursuers to their fate, he felt the tip of a steel blade prick the back of his neck. A peculiar harness of leather straps held the blade's handle flush against the right wing of the one called "Chief".

"How stupid do you think I am?" the chief menaced.

"I don't know," the gray pegasus remarked offhandedly. "What's one hoof plus one hoof?"

"Two hoo-ooof!" the chief began to answer reflexively just before getting bowled over by a double-hoofed rear kick from the gray pegasus. The rust-hued leader fought for air with his bruised diaphragm as his target raced off into the wilderness. "I-idiots! Morons! He's over this way!"

Ever since it had occurred to her that she was somehow inside the body of another pony, Derpy had been teetering on the edge of panic. Even the revelation that this gray pegasus wasn't a part of that ferocious-looking gang had only been a small relief. However, in the relative silence that followed his departure from the rowdy pursuers, Derpy began to hear his voice. The mouth that the two shared did not move except to smirk, but she could hear his joyous laughter as if he were standing right by her side. Derpy decided to let go of her fears for the moment and listened closely to the comforting baritone as it voiced emotion that never passed his lips.

Do you even know that I'm here? she wondered.

It had taken a minute for the band of armored stallions to rally around their winded leader, but they now charged forward after their target once more. The chief, whose seldom-uttered name was Iron Bound, led his hunting party with even more confidence than before; he had already reasoned out the strategy of his prey. The gray pegasus had bolted off in the direction of a nearby river, doubtlessly intent on using the running water to throw his pursuers off his trail. The tactic seemed an extraordinarily simple one, but the chief knew for certain that his enemy would use it. It had to have been a question running through the minds of his simple-minded compatriots: why hadn't this pegasus used his wings yet? They would probably see the end of the fugitive's tracks as a sign that he'd taken to the air, or even the treetops, but the chief knew better. The open air offered no cover, and the treetops were too obvious a compromise. His prey had proven himself a veteran of the wilderness, and Iron Bound was sure that the gray pegasus would follow the river downstream to continue his escape.

Iron Bound became less sure of that when he spotted the fugitive resting against a tree up ahead, looking for all the world as if he were waiting on a pretty young mare. He slowed at the sight,though his followers overtook his position and lunged for the kill. "Wait!" he shouted. "Wait, you idiots! Its a tr-"

The forest floor exploded in a shower of multicolored lights and deafening thunderclaps. The initial blast lifted half of the stallions off their hooves; the rest began to yelp in surprise and mill about as they fell under the assault of a spectacular ongoing lightshow. The milling-about turned into a full-blown panic when they realized that various articles of clothing had caught fire. Futile attempts to put out the flames that were dancing about the area were only answered by an even stronger wave of sizzling lights and explosive bangs.

Only having been singed a bit on the outer area of the increasingly flashy mess, Iron Bound spotted a familiar glow in the trees above. "Retreat!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "He's got a unicorn! Retreat! Back to camp!"

The gray pegasus couldn't resist laughing at the bumbling heap of stallions as they sabotaged each others' attempts to escape from the spellbinding light shower. It was hard for him to believe that he'd actually been afraid for his own life when this chase started. Even when the last of the undignified retreat before him had run its course, the guffaws just kept coming up from inside.

A similarly gray-furred unicorn mare dropped down from the tree branches above and stared at the pegasus coldly. The last of the dancing flames cast a strobe effect across her delicate features. She tossed her black hair in a show of irritation, the various bird-feather ornaments within her mane clacking together as she did so. "Is this funny to you, Cross?"

"Fireworks?" the pegasus stallion managed between giggles as he wiped away a solitary tear. "You are so very lucky that they didn't have a unicorn of their own." He smiled broadly. "D'you think you could have passed for a Sorceress?"

"I don't depend on luck," the mare replied, drawing the folds of her navy cloak about her. "I'd have left you here if the spell failed to impress."

"Don't put on airs, Feather," said Cross as the hilarity in his voice began to die down. "You'd be bored silly without me."

"And I'll starve with you," the one called Feather continued. "Where are your saddlebags?" She raised an eyebrow. "More importantly, where are the supplies that you were supposed to bring back in them?"

"With that lot," Cross answered, gesturing in the direction of the retreating stallions. The smile left his face. "They're slavers, Feather. You ought to know by now that those blighters trade in death, not groceries." He cleared his throat. "Wish I'd seen through their ruse 'fore they pinched my bags. They'd have had me in shackles too if I wasn't so quick on my hooves."

Feather sighed. "Is it too much to ask that we have just one uneventful supply run?"

"I'd settle for a prosperous one," Cross amended, moving toward the river. "Let's get back to camp, shall we? Make the best of what we've got tonight and strike out in search of better fortune on the 'morrow."

Feather began to follow, her shoulders in a slump and her head held low. "Leftovers with crushed hopes for seasoning . . . my favorite."

Hope you don't mind this state of affairs, Cross thought. Wish I could offer something besides thrice-heated soup for your first meal.

Derpy snapped out of her depressed silence at the voice that had directly addressed her. You can hear me?

That I can, Cross replied. Though I'm not sure whether it's a blessing or a curse at the moment. The voice of his thoughts became openly jovial, despite his words. My name's Silver Cross, little fairy. What's yours?

So, I'm a fairy now? Derpy Hooves questioned, still not quite able to accept the term.

Why is that strange? Have you ever been anything else? Cross replied as he tied a string around a nearby tree branch, a strangely contorted crystal hanging from its length. He tapped the crystal, causing it to swing evenly like a metronome and issue forth a barely audible humming noise.

Night had fallen in the time since Derpy had begun her conversation with Cross, and Derpy had found it very difficult to wrap her head–if she even had a head of her own anymore–around the idea that she now shared a body with this pegasus stallion. According to Cross, a similar thing had happened to his grandmother. She would often speak to voices in her own head and told her grandson that she'd been blessed by the faeries with eternal companionship for a life well-lived. Ancient lore described the faeries as mystical creatures who drifted in and out of the minds of mortals and offered them wisdom in times of need, but Cross had always seen the legends as mythical until today.

Why didn't you answer me in the first place? Derpy had asked him upon hearing that. It sounds like you were surprised.

Either faeries are real, or I'm going crazy, Cross had replied. Whichever is the case, panicking surely wouldn't have helped matters.

Silver Cross and the unicorn mare, whose full name was Feather Quill, had set up camp in only a few minutes' time. The campfire crackled and snapped as it illuminated the clearing they'd found with a warm orange glow. An iron pot sat suspended over the flames, whatever was for dinner gurgling away inside. It couldn't have been too appetizing; Feather Quill's expression remained blank except for a mild scowl as she stirred at the mixture with an enchanted ladle.

Does she ever smile? Derpy asked.

She used to, Cross answered as he strung up another humming crystal. Hasn't really done it much since we left the homeland.

Where are you two from, anyway?

Cross tapped the newly-strung crystal, the last in a ring of them that encircled the campsite. Not a subject I enjoy discussing, little fairy. Having finished his task, he sat down next to the campfire. "Parasprite wards are in place, my lady," Cross announced with more flair than necessary, gesturing to the nearby trees with red sacs that Derpy hadn't recognized. "Though I'm not terribly sure how much we'll need them, what with all the eater trees hanging about."

"There's no sense in taking risks that we can avoid," Feather Quill remarked impassively, her pale lavender eyes fixed on the task in front of her. "Besides, those trees are about as much of a blessing as the rest of this stretch of woods has been." She prodded a nearby water gourd to show how easily it rocked back and forth. "The parasprite eaters have polluted the groundwater; even the river was somewhat rainbow-colored." Her frown grew slightly. "And now our fresh water supply is low. Color me surprised."

Was that a pun? Derpy wondered.

Silver Cross chuckled. "Sure you didn't hit up a bit of the rainbow water while I was away? Almost sounds like you've contracted a mild sense of humor."

Feather's eyes narrowed as she looked up from her task. "If that's the case, then I'll have to shove you into some Poison Joke tomorrow to nurse it. There's bound to be heaps of it growing somewhere around here with a river full of rainbows."

"Sorry I asked," Cross remarked as Feather levitated a wooden bowl from a nearby haversack. "So, what might be the name of this evening's repast?"

"Leek broth," Feather answered as she filled a bowl and passed it to Cross. "For lack of normal seasoning, I've added some essence of 'Doubt in our General Direction' and a pinch of 'Regret for Opportunities Missed'."

Cross received the bowl with a questioning gaze. "Good Lord. Those aren't real flavors, are they?"

Derpy suddenly discovered that she shared Cross's sense of taste when he took his first sip of the tan-colored leafy mixture. The intensely bitter sensation would have wiped out her own taste buds, but Cross seemed to take it in stride. I sure hope that it's full of vitamins, Derpy commented.

"More like genuine concerns," said Feather as she made a bowl for herself. "We only have enough drinking water for another day's travel. I'm fostering a growing distrust for the viability of the local vegetation. We're fresh out of hardtack, and we're more than a week's travel from the last trading post." She took a draught from the bowl. "No offense intended, but I'm seriously considering taking a risk on the trek back to civilization rather than on promises in a book of fairy tales."

You're here 'cause of a book? Derpy asked. You're supposed to read those, not base your life on them. A new thought entered Derpy's mind. Are you going to a convention?

If Cross had an answer for that question, he failed to volunteer it as he looked up from his meal. "I didn't hear you complain when it served us well."

"That was then," Feather replied. "And 'then' was quite some time ago. It seems like we've been living on the edge of starvation for the past few months. Looking back, I can only blame your stubbornness for this state of affairs" Her voice took on the tone of a considerate appeal. "We've passed up plenty of decent towns and villages over the years. For a while, I actually believed that these 'Green Pastures' of yours were just over the horizon. It's different now. We're way beyond the borders of civilization; I don't think anypony's ever journeyed this far. Did those slavers even have any captives?"

Cross shook his head.

"See what I mean?" Feather continued. "They were probably ready to give up and head back the way we came before they ran into you, and I'm starting to think that they've got the right idea."

Cross put down his empty bowl and looked straight into Feather's eyes. "I didn't leave the homeland in search of a 'decent' substitute."

"Did you leave it in search of death?" Feather asked bluntly. "Because that's all that's left in the place that we called home, and that's all we're going to find out here in the wilderness if we keep pushing our luck."

Cross smiled, which caused a bit of surprise to show on his friend's face. "You don't believe in luck, Feather," he said in a measured tone. "And I don't either. I only believe in the words of the Tome, and according to them we are closer than ever to the paradise of Green Pastures." He rose to his hooves and began to retreat to his bedroll. "Faith had in times of plenty has little value. You should try having some now."

"Faith and an empty sack is worth the sack," Feather retorted, reaching for her bowl to finish her largely untouched dinner. "Just wait until we have to burn that book to make a fire; then we'll have a talk about faith."

"Good night, Feather," Cross said with a yawn as he tucked himself in. "'Twill be a better day tomorrow."

"For how many tomorrows?" Feather Quill muttered under her breath before returning to the broth.

Derpy felt a chill run through her. Do you feel that?

Feel what? Cross replied.

It occurred to Derpy that it might simply be her own reaction to the words of the unicorn mare. I don't know if I trust Feather, she began. But what if she's right? What if you starve out here?

Derpy felt Cross smile as his mind began to fade into slumber. It'll come to something worse before it comes to that, my little fairy.

With the dawn came a rolling fog bank from the south. The land-bound cloud consumed the forest in a thick, coiling mist that reduced visibility, made the air feel muggy and stagnant, and even seemed to swallow up all the sounds of the forest's wildlife. The sea of trees took on a haunting, dreamlike quality that didn't seem to affect Silver Cross at all as he trekked along the side of a river that shone faintly with the full spectrum of a rainbow.

You sure you don't want to wake Feather up? Derpy inquired.

Why? said Cross. D'you miss her already?

No way, Derpy replied hastily. But isn't she your friend?

Cross sighed. She's a very depressed friend at the moment. I thought I'd find something to cheer her up before we set off this morning.

Derpy thought for a moment before responding. What if she wakes up while we're gone?

We, huh? thought Cross with a small hint of amusement. I don't know what she'd think about you, Miss Derpy Hooves, but Feather knows that I won't keep her waiting.

The river's pace had been increasing as they walked, and the noise that it produced was beginning to near a roar. Derpy soon saw the reason why; the flowing water dropped off a sudden cliff just a few yards ahead.

What are you looking for, anyway? Derpy wondered.

Silver Cross walked up to the edge of the cliff and gazed down into the narrow valley. Across from their position, Derpy could see a range of steep mountains, their bases obscured by the morning fog. The distance between the cliff and the mountains was so short that it was not hard to imagine a rope bridge of sufficient length connecting the two. The valley itself was less of the expanse that its name implied and more of a gash in the landscape, appearing as if some gargantuan knife had cut it into the surrounding terrain. Patches of trees grew on ledges of varying height, and another waterfall could be spied on the opposite side, suggesting that the resultant river below probably ran out to the ocean. The cascades of falling water combined with the pervasive mist cast multiple tiny rainbows that almost appeared to be the very bridges that the small canyon lacked.

The sight was quite beautiful to look at, but it only added to Derpy's confusion. This will make Feather happy?

Probably not, Cross quipped before pointing directly down. But that will.

Derpy looked in the direction of Cross's hoof to see a substantial ledge just below. In fact, it was wide and consistent enough that it obviously served as a trail down into the valley. Currently traversing that trail at a snail's pace was none other than the band of armored stallions from the previous day. Derpy would have recoiled from the edge if it were possible. Whoa! she exclaimed. I thought you wanted to get away from these guys!

Cross smirked. We're not going after them, Derpy. Can you tell what this means?

Derpy tried to think past her initial reaction. That we should go back?

They're moving south, Cross continued with not the slightest hint of condescension. Further into uncharted territory, at least by our reckoning. I got a good look at them yesterday too. They were gaunt, hungry, tired even. Their supplies are probably in about the same shape that ours are. He smiled. Now why would they head away from known civilization if they're in that state?

There's something down there, Derpy replied quickly.

Aye, Cross affirmed. Probably a small village, or at least a trading post.

No, Derpy corrected. I mean there's something yellow down there.

Cross looked more closely at the band of slavers to see a golden-hued mare on the shackle line being tugged along cruelly and prodded onward by a riding crop. Derpy felt Cross's throat tighten.

"Bleeding vipers," Cross muttered aloud. "They've got themselves a prisoner."

Both observers felt the sharp prick of a blade poking Cross in the backside.

"That they do, matey," said a raspy voice from behind. "That they do."

Derpy yelped inside his head at the sensation, but Cross's voice came out calm and a bit curious. "Rat Fink?"

"Got it in one," came the reply. The thin blade tapped Cross with its flat. "On yer hooves now; no funny business."

Cross rose and turned about slowly, the point of the blade at his throat every step of the way. He found himself staring at a swamp-green earth pony wearing a black eyepatch and a burgundy do-rag that partially covered his filthy graying mane. A brown vest hung off his wiry frame in tatters. His Cutie Mark resembled a wooden stool with a gray bird on top. The rapier against Cross's neck remained aloft by way of a hoof harness.

"Fancy that," Cross mused. "You actually lived through that mess in the catacombs."

"Aye, but not all in one piece," the one called Rat Fink elaborated while flashing his eyepatch. "An' certainly no thanks t' you."

You know this guy? Derpy asked, partially calmed by Cross' mannerisms.

'Know' is a strong word, Cross answered to Derpy's question. More of an unpleasant acquaintance, although even that is a bit flattering. He smirked. He's not much of a problem, really. Watch this.

"What're you grinnin' at?" Fink snarled, the variance in his tone suggesting the presence of a bold front.

"It doesn't seem that you've thought this one out well at all, matey," Cross replied, staring directly into Fink's remaining yellow eye. "D'you really suppose that you can do me in with that tiny thing 'fore my claymore makes your head into a souvenir?" His smile grew wider. "And don't tell me that you've forgotten 'bout my partner."

The tip of a stylized dagger prodded Cross's midsection as a familiar voice said, "He didn't."

Wha?! Derpy exclaimed.

Silver Cross glanced to his left to find Feather Quill using the pinkish glow of her magic to hold the weapon at his side. The same magic began to pull his claymore out of its scabbard and out of his reach. He sighed heavily. "Feather dear, I thought we had a talk about finding the right kind of friends." He raised an eyebrow. "I told you not to bring home anything scruffy."

Feather Quill's expression remained characteristically impassive. "You should have seen this coming, Cross."

"Mayhaps you can call yerself 'Double Cross' from now on," Fink jeered. "That is, if yer called anythin' at all after yer new chums down there are done with ye."

"Wouldn't that be 'Double Crossed'?" Silver Cross shot back, although Derpy could feel actual fear creeping into his mind. "Shame on your teachers, snotnose."

Fink prodded Cross's neck with the rapier and drew blood. "I'll teach you somethin' alright if you don't move that flank."

Whatever it is, Derpy cautioned. I don't wanna learn it.

The path below did in fact lead to the canyon floor, its winding road becoming ever more obscure as the fog grew thicker. By the time that it began to widen out near the bottom, Silver Cross could barely see for three feet in any direction. The sharp blades of the two ponies to either side of him poked and prodded as they moved, both of them wary of any false moves.

Not much of a problem, huh? Derpy commented. What're we gonna do now?

Stay calm, for the moment, Cross replied before turning to the stone-faced Feather. "Y'know, it puzzles me, dear comrade. How on earth can you stomach the thought of teaming up with this miserable blighter?"

Fink pressed his dagger against Cross's neck. "I thought I told you to keep that gob shut."

"Take it easy, Fink," said Feather. "He's no more threat to you."

"I'll take it any way I darn well please," Fink shot back with a wave of his rapier. "We're partners in this, 'member? Equal cuts."

Cross ignored Fink and kept his gaze on Feather. "So, it all comes down to a matter of bits then?"

"A matter of preference, actually," answered Feather, her hair ornaments tossing about as she walked. "I'm done risking my life on the words of dead ponies. Besides, this way we both get what we want. I get enough supplies to make it back to civilization while you get to travel further south with these fine chaps." She gestured ahead.

The three ponies had reached the canyon floor, and the vague outline of slavers' encampment could be seen at the base of the cliff. Even with the limited sight distance, Cross could tell that the flora here was much thicker and more lush than in the forest above. He also spied a faint blue glow coming from thickets of unearthly flowers nearby.

"Oh, fantastic," Cross quipped. "I get to go on a field trip with bunglers who make camp in the middle of Poison Joke gardens."

"They don't got much choice; stuff grows everywhere down here," Fink growled, smiling wickedly. "Watch yer step. Wouldn't want anythin' bad to happen to ye."

A rust-colored pegasus strode forth from the encampment, tipping his wide-brimmed hat to the party. "I don't believe it," he declared. "How did your mangy hide actually manage to deliver where this whole mess of hooligans failed?"

"All in the skill, Mr. Bound," Fink crooned as he brought Cross to a halt. "'Tis all in the skill."

Iron Bound stopped suddenly. "Why haven't you trussed up that unicorn wench?"

"Because I'm the 'skill' he's referring to," Feather answered, cutting off Fink's reply. "We've agreed to equal shares of the bounty, although I'd like to substitute half the bits on my end for five days' water and hardtack."

Iron Bound looked her in the eye for a moment, then said, "Well, 'never let a bit of bad blood sour a good deal' I always say." He made a sharp clicking sound with his teeth. A stallion rose from a nearby cooking fire. "Fetch me 75 bits and five days' trail rations." The stallion dashed off into the mist. Iron Bound walked right up to Silver Cross. "You had a good laugh at my expense yesterday," he seethed. "But I suppose that the joke's on you after all."

"Not sure I get it if that's the case," Cross retorted, a defiant smile on his lips. "Is the funny part where this piece of pond scum somehow outdid you and your whole crew?"

CRACK!

Iron Bound's full-hoofed haymaker smashed into Cross's face and sent him sprawling on the ground. "No," he vented, his voice full of unrestrained anger. "The funny part is where you get the will to live beaten out of you and I sell your soulless husk to the Diamond Dogs as a chew toy." He turned toward the encampment. "Halfnose, Hope Dasher!" A pair of tough-looking stallions approached wordlessly. "Get this flankface on the shackle line."

The muscular henchmen hauled Cross's half-conscious form from the forest loam and roughly dragged him toward the main encampment, passing a stallion carrying the bounty in a pair of haversacks on the way. They dropped him back to the ground next to the yellow earth pony mare he'd seen earlier and tightened a pair of iron shackles around his joints.

Okay, Derpy commented. Do we panic now?

The voice brought Cross back from the inky blackness. He swiveled his eyes back to where he'd stood a few seconds before to witness a minor disagreement unfold.

"One condition," Iron Bound stated as he deliberately withheld Feather's portion of the bounty. "Supplies are worth more to us right now than money." He gestured to the object slung across her back. "I'll be taking his sword too."

Feather's gaze narrowed. It occurred to Cross that this was the most emotion that he'd seen from his traitorous partner all morning. Whatever she considered in that moment though, was quickly dismissed. She levitated the sword & scabbard, laying them to rest at Iron Bound's hooves. "May I leave now?" she asked discourteously. "I've got a lot of ground to cover."

Iron Bound relinquished the haversack to her possession. "I like your professionalism, Miss Unicorn. Perhaps one day we'll do business again."

"I doubt it," Feather stated coldly as she disappeared in a flash of pink light.

Both Fink and Iron Bound recoiled a bit as she did so. Iron Bound spat contemptuously. "Hornmongers. Never did have a taste for their kind."

Fink chuckled darkly as he retrieved his share of the bounty. "Can't argue with they handiwork though."

Another sound much closer to Cross summoned his attention.. The earth pony mare shackled in line next to him was sobbing softly, clearly muting her voice so as not to anger the slavers. Her coat of brilliant yellow complemented her curly but well-kept mane's shade of auburn. She bore a Cutie Mark that resembled a pair of wheat tillers with floret spikes at the tips, and it shook along with the rest of her form as she tried to hide her sorrow from those who might beat her for it.

Seriously, Mister Cross! Derpy lamented. That's gonna be us if you don't do something!

"What's your name, lass?" Cross half-coughed around the swelling of his left cheek.

The earth pony mare looked up at him for the first time. When she spoke, her high-pitched voice sounded much younger than her appearance let on. "What does it matter now?"

"They've taken your freedom," Cross admonished. "They can't take your name; 'tis yours to give."

The mare studied his bruised face with tearful eyes. "Golden Harvest," she whispered.

Cross smiled. "You have a beautiful name, Miss Harvest, but you should try having a bit more faith." He closed his eyes. "That which is beautiful in this world does not suffer needlessly."

Golden Harvest looked away from him as if angered somewhat, but she did not return to sobbing.

You say that a lot, Derpy observed. Does having 'faith' really make a difference?

Certainly not on its own, Cross responded. But knowing in your heart that everything will turn out as it should clears away many stumbling blocks that we set before ourselves.

"What d'you mean yor not gonna kill 'im?" Fink shouted.

Cross turned his attention back to the bottom of the cliff, mildly surprised that Rat Fink had remained.

"Why did you assume that I would?" Iron Bound rebuffed. "I happen to be in the slave trade; I never waste a good set of working muscles."

What does this guy have against you anyway? asked Derpy.

He's got quite a few reasons to dislike me, Cross answered in mental monotone. It's just that most of them are his own bloody fault.

Fink stomped his front hooves. "I thought you was out fer revenge after he made fools outta you n' yor gang."

Iron Bound waved dismissively. "To my mind, a lifetime of slavery is far better vengeance than a quick execution." He stared dangerously at Rat Fink. "I think you'd best be on your way, friend. You've got what you wanted."

Fink's contorted expression made his dissatisfaction plainly apparent. He cast about as if in search of something as Iron Bound began to walk away. Before the rust-hued pegasus had gotten too far out of earshot, he found it. "You're not gonna want to keep him alive, Chief," Fink shouted with a hint of smugness. "He's a stinkin' Topian."

Iron Bound whirled about in an instant. "He's a WHAT?!"

What's a toh-pea-uhn? Derpy wondered.

Cross groaned. "That moron . . ."

Iron Bound marched right back to Fink's position. The green stallion's smugness faded from his face. Open-mouthed dread replaced it as Iron Bound grabbed him by his vest's collar and nearly lifted him bodily. The chief's voice dripped with anger. "You mean to tell me that you brought a bleeding TOPIAN into my camp and didn't think to tell me about it?!"

Fink's pupils had narrowed to pinpricks. "I- Um- I didn't think you'd try to . . . y'know . . ."

Iron Bound hauled Fink by his collar and flung the unlucky wretch through the air. Fink came to a harsh landing several feet away as the chief barked orders. "Halfnose, Hope Dasher! Put this piece of filth on the shackle line! Bring me the Topian!"

"WHAT?!" Fink screeched, all pretense at hiding his naturally high-pitched voice now gone. "You can't do that! We had a deal!"

"We did indeed," said Iron Bound. "One viable slave for 100 bits. Since the one that you brought me is no use, I'll have to take your sorry hide instead."

Rat Fink tried to fight back against the slavers, but a single strong punch to the jaw was all that it took to reduce him to a whimpering invalid. They stripped his gear and dragged him toward the next set of manacles on the iron chain. Cross felt his own shackles released for a moment only to feel a similar, portable pair lock tightly into place. The two goons dragged him roughly before their chief and forced him to kneel.

Iron Bound snorted angrily, but a hint of curiosity shone through in his voice. "So you're one of those rotten plague-carriers as well?"

Cross looked up at him with a half-grin. "Is that what you heard about my people?"

"'Tis all one needs to hear," Iron Bound responded, taking Cross's claymore off his own shoulders to examine it. "I never thought I'd see one for meself. Who knows? Maybe I still haven't." A dark scowl crossed his face. "Not that it matters; I won't take the risk of spreading pestilence this far from civilization proper." He handed the sword and scabbard to one of the two subordinates holding Cross down. "Hope Dasher, take this diseased filth ten minutes' march north to the clearing at the other end of the canyon. Snuff him out with his own pigsticker and burn the corpse."

Hope Dasher received the sword with reverence. "It'd be mah pleasure, Chief."

Silver Cross wound his way between thick patches of poison joke at a slow but steady march. He moved with more care than usual to avoid tripping over the clinking chain between his manacles, but the impatient pair of slavers to his rear took turns prodding him with the point of his own sword in an effort to get him up to a trot. They might have even had the wherewithal to issue some creative threats if they weren't so busy arguing over who would get to hold the beautiful blade and for how long. Cross couldn't understand exactly what they were saying due to their unusually thick accents, and it didn't help that one of them always had the sword handle in his teeth.

The morning's fog drenched the entire world in a haze of white that was only countered by the faint blue glow coming from the Poison Joke flowers all around. The setting looked positively ethereal, as if the three ponies had crossed into a mystic realm between life and death.

Are you crying? Cross asked with his thoughts. The sound of Derpy sobbing within his mind had been growing steadily louder for a while now. It continued unabated in spite of his question. You know you're not in any danger, don't you? he continued. A fairy's life is surely beyond mortal reckoning. You'll likely go back to the place from whence you came, or perhaps to the side of another-

I don't care about that! Derpy cut him off. You're about to die! Why don't you do something?!

What can I do, little fairy? Cross responded. I won't stand much of a chance against these two bounders with my hooves tied, not even counting the fact that they've got my sword.

Derpy considered this for a moment. Well, kick them into the Poison Joke or something!

Cross chuckled inwardly. With the point of a blade betwixt my shoulders? I'd impale myself.

Derpy searched her brain for other possibilities but came up with nothing more reasonable. When she spoke again, her voice had gained greater stability. How can you be so calm? Nopony's okay with something like this happening to them. Derpy stopped to allow Cross to give an answer, but none came forth. For half-minute, the only sounds to be heard were soft hoofsteps, the rustling chain, and Halfnose trying to mumble something around the claymore's handle.

I was once a soldier, Derpy, Cross suddenly began. Spend enough time with death all around you, with the taste of it on the wind every morn, and you become numb to the fear of it. Most ponies in this situation would react exactly the way that you are; I can only feel as if I'm walking into the presence of an old friend.

Derpy felt a twinge of horror at Cross's reasoning but tried to power through it. What about those 'Green Pastures'? I thought you wanted to go there; are you giving up on them?

Cross smiled despite the pain it incurred from the wound on his cheek. The Tome never guarantees that you'll see the Green Pastures in this world. In my long travels, I've become used to the idea that my paradise may indeed lie beyond the boundaries of this life.

The clearing that Iron Bound had mentioned was just up ahead. The sun shone through the fog overhead, casting a pale golden light on the grass therein. The beautiful sight brought a wave of hopelessness over Derpy's mind, causing her to cry again from the stress.

Please—weep no more, little fairy, Cross requested. I do not want it to be the last sound that I hear before passing on. Truth be told, I've enjoyed our time together.

But I wasn't any help," Derpy sobbed.

Nonsense, Cross chided as he crossed the treeline into the clearing. Just having somepony I could talk to in the lonely moments, somepony who I didn't have to watch my tongue with granted me one of the only wishes I've ever had for myself.

"Alright, on yor rump," commanded Hope Dasher, pushing on Cross's backside as he did.

Cross sat calmly in the damp grass as the faint rays of the sun warmed his back. He felt the edge of his own blade against the back of his neck.

"Oi," Halfnose shouted. The feeling of cold metal departed. "Who sed you git t'do it?" Another petty argument began to unfold.

It's not fair, Derpy continued. I don't want you to die. You're a good pony.

Is that so? Cross retorted. Would you still say such a thing if you knew how much blood is on my hooves?

What?

I've taken many lives, Derpy, said Cross as gruesome images flashed through both their minds. As a soldier, it was my duty. After that, it was a necessity. I've probably killed more ponies than this entire band of slavers ever has, and I'm not even sure if all of them truly deserved it.

Derpy remained dumbstruck as image after gory image and the cries of the fallen assaulted her senses.

If I escaped from this retribution, do you understand that not a single slaver would leave this valley alive? Cross elaborated. A warrior stallion can only give death to those who threaten him with it. Could even one so innocent as yourself willfully exchange their lives for mine?

Cross ceased the showcase of his sins, and Derpy said nothing.

"Right then," said Halfnose. "You git to do 'im, an' oi git first dibs on what's in 'is pockets."

"Fine," responded Hope Dasher. "But if you find that weird book those Topians carry 'round, we're still burnin' it."

The argument had ended, and the blade settled back onto Cross's neck once again.

"Now don't you get any funny ideas," Hope Dasher threatened in a low voice. "I'm gonna do this in one stroke, but if you even move a muscle, my friend an' I are gonna make you beg for death 'fore 'tis all said and done." The blade rose. "On three."

Halfnose giggled. "Make it slow, Dashie! Let 'im savor it!"

A moment of silence hung on the misty air.

"One."

You big dummy! Derpy suddenly yelled. I don't care what you say! Life is worth living!

"Two."

I don't care what some dumb book says either, and I don't care what happens next! I just want you to live!

"Three."

Golden Harvest watched a flock of birds rise from the trees to the north and felt tears welling in her eyes at the sight.

One space over from her on the shackle line, Rat Fink sighed as if he'd just finished a large meal. "Well, least somethin' good come out o' all this."

Golden whirled on her fellow captive, her wide eyes ablaze with anger.

"Whoa missy," Fink responded, trying to hold up his chained front hooves. "Don't ye begrudge a man the satisfaction of 'is enemy gettin' 'is due. Ye only knew 'im for but a moment." His gaze became distant. "I knew 'im fer years 'fore now, an' he was a regular villain thru n' thru."

Golden's emerald eyes narrowed. "I know a villain when I see one, Mr. Fink."

Fink smiled. "Seems it didn't help ye much in avoidin' this lot." He edged closer, rattling the shackle line. "But let's not have bad blood come 'twixt us. We're mateys on the line now; 'tis almost like bein' bunkmates." He licked his lips.

Golden shuddered. "You lay one hoof on me and I'll throttle you with your own chains," she seethed.

Fink had wanted to come across as confidently sly, but his true nature showed when the smile on his face vanished amid a round of shivers. "Perish the thought," he muttered quietly. He began to turn away from the hateful mare when he felt a tingling feeling in his front hooves. He looked at them just in time to see his manacles unlatch. Thinking quickly, Fink caught them before they hit the ground and began to snigger. He turned back to Golden. "Looks like it really 'tis my lucky day." His joyous tone died in his throat when he saw the mare lift one unchained hoof to her face in shock. He gulped. "You too?"

Golden Harvest nodded slowly.

"Help!" came a sudden shout from across the fog. "It's the Topian! He's escaped! He's over he-AAUGH!"

Rat Fink dropped his chains and dusted his hooves. "Well, that's that then."

"What do you mean?" Golden Harvest asked unthinkingly, casting about to see the slavers' reactions. She focused on Fink to see him plotting a course. "You're going to try to run through all these hooligans?"

"I mean to say that I'm gettin' while the gettin's good," Fink replied. "And ye'd best do the same." A look of wide-eyed terror arose from his face. "I've seen wot comes next before. Just gets messier from 'ere."

When the shout regarding the Topian rang through the mist, Iron Bound looked up with alarm from a map spread over a makeshift log table.

"That sounds like Yellow Belly," said the tall earth pony sitting across from him in his gruff, no-nonsense voice.

The entire camp listened collectively, not entirely believing what they'd heard and waiting for a continuance. The next sound that came through the fog was the panicked clucking of a chicken.

The earth pony at the table raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think we had any of those along."

"We don't," Iron Bound replied just before another cry sounded, closer this time.

"No! I'm just the bookkeeper! No, don't- AAAAUGH!"

An earth pony suddenly came into view as his body hurtled through the air toward the table and landed squarely in a patch of the glowing blue flowers a few yards away. He picked himself up and immediately doubled over, holding both front legs around his gut. Most who were watching expected to see a grisly wound, but the earth pony instead began vomiting heaps of golden coins.

Iron Bound spread his wings toward the ground, the blades held underneath sliding out as he did so. The weapons clicked as they locked into an extended position. "Rally to me!" he shouted. "Kill the Topian; don't bother taking him alive! And for crying out loud, don't let yourself touch the Poison Joke!"

The chief looked about wildly as fresh screams rang out from multiple directions. At first, it seemed as if the Topian -- who'd somehow survived his execution -- was moving fast, striking quickly and dashing to the next target before he could be pinned down. However, as the panicked cries increased in multitude, Iron Bound realized that there had to be more than one assailant. But how? Iron Bound's wondering ceased when the form of Silver Cross charged through the mist, brandishing the beautiful claymore in his powerful jaws and headed straight for his companion's position.

"Big Melon," Iron Bound signaled to the burly earth pony. "Put an end to this."

The large stallion, whose battle gauntlets showed a preference for hoofticuffs, reared up on two hooves and assumed a fighting stance. "Don't worry; I got him, Chief."

Iron Bound readied his own blades, planning to slice the Topian to ribbons when either of the two combatants fell. However, the second that Melon's hooves hit the charging pegasus, Cross's form exploded into a plume of pinkish smoke. The earth pony stallion overbalanced and toppled into a nearby patch of perilous blue flowers with a resounding thud. Iron Bound watched in awe as Melon's head grew to twice the size of his body. The now impossibly deformed earth pony struggled to get up, but it was no use; his legs could no longer even touch the ground.

"I don't got him, Chief," Big Melon said in his gruff, no-nonsense voice.

"IDIOTS!" Iron Bound howled above the screams from the fog. "Stand right where you are! The Topian is dead! You're seeing illusions! It's a bloody magic trick!"

The shouts and cries did not cease. Another Silver Cross appeared from the fog, this time charging for the chief himself.

"Find the unicorn!" Iron Bound shouted, standing his ground and staring down the illusion that didn't return his gaze. "She's got to be behind this!" The image was almost upon him. From this close, the chief could spot the lack of detail that gave the slightly hazy image away as a fake. He smiled confidently. "It's a trick!" he repeated above the din. "The Topian isn't here!"

The image of the charging pegasus exploded into pink mist just three feet away. A very real Silver Cross emerged from it, the broken chain of his manacles dragging the ground as the point of his gleaming blade moved with lightning speed. Iron Bound didn't even have time to look surprised before the sword buried itself to the hilt in his heart. The slaver fell to the ground in a patch of Poison Joke, a confident smile forever transfixed on his lifeless visage. Even after the claymore had long withdrawn from his chest, the glowing blue flowers changed nothing, apparently satisfied with what had come to them.

From the very moment when Cross had broken his bonds and turned his blade back against his would-be executioners, Derpy had found it a struggle to keep her eyes open. Even though Cross controlled his own eyelids, Derpy found she could still shut out what he saw if she wanted to. Right now, she most certainly wanted to. However, even turning her vision away from the horribly violent scenes playing out around her did not shut out the noise. The blood-curdling screams and desperate cries of the slavers-turned-victims echoed in her ears. The wet slicing and chopping of the claymore at work would have sickened her if her stomach was her own. Derpy kept her eyes shut and tried her best to ignore the sounds, but the more she did this, the more she became aware of something even worse that was rising up from the inside of her currently joined consciousness.

Hearing a lull in the battle and feeling that Cross wasn't currently killing something, she cautiously squinted and hoped that the whole thing was over with. Perhaps Cross had decided to show mercy after all? What she saw immediately informed her that this was not so. Silver Cross dashed headlong at a pair of slavers who had seen enough of the Topian's handiwork to know that running was the only option. Cross used his wings to extend his jumps over the Poison Joke flowers and add bursts of speed to his stride; it was clear that the clumsy pair to his front only had seconds left to live.

One of the two, a lightly armored pegasus stallion panicked and took to the air, perhaps hoping that the grim-faced avenger behind would go for the easier kill. However, his trajectory had made him suddenly predictable. Derpy felt Cross turn his head mightily and fling his spinning claymore skyward. The whirling blade caught the pegasus in the shoulder with enough force to cleave down to his waist. A surprised wail died in his throat with a gurgle just before he dropped like a stone. Cross gave a powerful flap of his wings and rose into the air, tearing his claymore from the plummeting pony in a somersault and coming down hard on the other slaver in the next instant.

Derpy closed her eyes again, but knew from the sound and sensation of the handle in Cross's mouth that the earth pony slaver had just lost his head. In the darkness caused by her avoidance of the merciless violence that continued unabated, Derpy only had Cross's inner consciousness for company. What she felt and heard from it seemed completely unrelated to the pony she'd gotten to know so far. Given the way that Cross had described his past, Derpy had expected him to feel guilt and shame as he fought for his life. However, the mind of the warrior pegasus positively glowed with malevolent glee. His mind spun faster than his blade, constantly evaluating the battlefield and coming up with creative and satisfying ways to bring death to his foes. His lack of fear astounded Derpy; his enjoyment of the situation even more so. As she dared to look closer though, she realized that he was not reveling in the deaths of the slavers. Cross felt delight at the removal of complications. A single task was now before him and he was free from worry or consideration. All that was left was the chance to use his talent to its fullest extent, and Cross could not help but feel the same joy that an artist might feel when painting, or a singer when performing.

All of this Derpy had begun to understand as she effectively put her ear to Cross's heart, but it was not what worried her. Behind the workings of his inner mind, Derpy felt something else stirring. It was hard to identify, and she felt almost instinctively afraid of it. It was a mess, a whirling jumble of discarded thoughts that grew and grew as Cross's mind worked faster and faster. It was a tornado within the tornado, but it reeked of contradiction and a savage emotion that was a far cry even from the joy of combat. Derpy did her best to ignore the byproduct, but it grew ever larger with each passing second. She did her best to hide away in a corner of her mind and not think about the part she'd played in all this.

"You can open your eyes, now," said Cross.

Derpy followed the command and found herself staring directly into the tearful eyes of the yellow-furred mare who'd been on the shackle line.

"Is it over?" asked Golden Harvest, her voice wavering.

A unicorn mare became visible through the fog, using her magic to clear the mists away. "It is for them," Feather Quill responded as she hopped over a dismembered corpse.

Feather? Derpy thought. You mean she . . .

"Why hello, old chum," Cross remarked playfully as he cleaned his crimsoned sword on a patch of grass. "Made the routine a bit obscure this time, didn't you? One normally expects some kind of advance notice, what?"

You're kidding, thought Derpy.

"It was an act?" Golden Harvest said incredulously.

"Most of it was," Feather Quill half-coughed after inhaling a bit of smoke from an extinguished campfire. "Though I didn't count on them taking the sword." She grimaced. "Or on Fink to get you sentenced to death and himself put on the shackle line."

"Why not make a note of that one?" Cross joked as Golden Harvest's mouth hung open. "Next time, count on the idiot to be an idiot." He smiled ruefully. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to let your jolly partner know what's up before he gets beaten n' enslaved either."

If Feather was sorry, she didn't show it. "You can blame your friend Fink for that as well. He surprised me at camp just an hour after you went to sleep, and he wasn't in the mood for any tricks. Fink might be a dunce, but he knows us well enough. If I'd tipped you off to what I had planned, he would have known."

"Fair enough," said Cross as he sheathed the newly polished blade. "I think good old Fink's even been on the receiving end of the 'Number 5' before. Good call on your part, Feather."

Derpy could have sworn that she saw the beginnings of a smile on the gray unicorn's face.

"Mine always are," Feather replied.

"Amazing," Golden Harvest gasped, drawing the attention of her saviors. "The two of you are truly seasoned warriors."

"Campaigners, properly," Cross responded. "Although the greater error in this case is my own, young lass." He gestured with a flourish toward the yellow pony while facing his partner. "Feather, may I present Lady Golden Harvest, the only flower in this valley fit to adorn a bouquet."

"A pleasure," Feather Quill said impassively as Golden Harvest blushed.

Cross made the same gesture toward Feather. "And this, Miss Harvest, is Feather Quill - the stone-faced, stone-colored, stone-hearted-" He winced as something small impacted his side. "Stone-throwing Beauty of the Northerlands, Sorceress Extraordinaire."

"'Tis an honor, truly," Golden Harvest managed while stifling a giggle. "Only a Sorceress could have cast such a spell."

Feather Quill raised an eyebrow for a second before pulling back her cloak. Emblazoned on her flank was a Cutie Mark resembling a quill pen dipped into a red ink well. "Try not to take Cross too seriously," Feather advised. "I'm no Sorceress. Like all unicorns, my most powerful spell stems from my talent. I was a scribe before I became a traveler, and I can use my magic to bring the phantoms of my imagination to life, at least in the eyes of others."

Golden Harvest paid rapt attention as Feather spoke, but she quickly turned to Cross in the same instant that Feather ceased to do so. "And you, sir?"

The pegasus stallion stood a bit slack-jawed. "Didn't I introduce myself before?"

Nope, Derpy answered.

"Oh," said Cross, seemingly to no one. His confident smile returned as he reared up on his hind legs, one hoof resting on the handle of his claymore. As his cloak fell away, it revealed his Cutie Mark to be a whirling cyclone with a cross-like sword of gunmetal gray at its center. "Silver Cross, the upstanding citizen-soldier turned good-for-nothing vagabond at your service."

"Well, good for one thing anyway," Feather corrected as she glanced about at the destruction revealed by the clearing mist.

"Now then," Cross began as he came back down from his pose and walked toward the now-visible supply cart of the slaver band. "With our supplies replenished, we can venture wherever we wish." He paused to look the items over before turning back. "Though right now, I really wish I knew where the nearest town is."

"My hometown is just a day's journey to the southeast," Golden Harvest volunteered enthusiastically.

"Truly?" Feather remarked, her voice suddenly full of obvious curiosity. "Did you tell the slavers this? Was that why they made the trek into this canyon?"

Golden Harvest looked to the side for a moment before responding. "I'm afraid so. They beat it out of me when I was first captured last night." Her gaze fell to the ground. "I'm not as strong as the two of you; I blurted it out without thinking."

"Say," Cross ventured, taking a step toward the yellow earth pony. "This hometown of yours, it isn't overrun with this Poison Joke stuff, is it?"

"Oh no," Golden Harvest replied as a smile returned to her face. "It's a beautiful place, Mr. Cross, and I'm sure that all the townsfolk will be so very grateful when they learn that you took care of these nasty villains."

"Gratitude is good," Feather mused.

"Just wait 'till you see it," Golden Harvest continued, a faraway look in her eyes. "Have you ever been to a place where green pastures just go on and on as far as the eye can see?"

Silver Cross turned slowly to Feather Quill with a massive grin plastered on his face. "Can't say that I have. Sounds like a veritable paradise though, right Feather?."

Feather stared back coldly. "If I hear anything even remotely resembling an 'I told you so' come out of that mouth of yours . . ."

The midday sun shone down from high above as the trio of ponies left the canyon to find a simple wooden bridge that crossed over the wide river flowing from the north. A well-traveled dirt road curved its way across the landscape to either side of the bridge. As they casually took to the southeast, Feather Quill occupied herself with asking pointed questions of Golden Harvest, leaving Silver Cross to tow the supply cart at the rear. All about the three of them were emerald waves of grass that flowed over the hillocks to dark treelines and mountains in the distance.

Are you quite alright, little fairy? he asked. You've been terribly quiet since the battle. There was no answer. Were you frightened?

Yes, came the timid response.

Of the slavers? Cross questioned. Or of me?

Both, I think, Derpy replied.

Cross smiled. 'Tis nothing to be ashamed of. I wish that more ponies had a distaste for violence. The world would be a better place, no doubt.

I'm not ashamed, Derpy corrected, though she hadn't really thought about it before that moment. I just- You could have broken free any time that you wanted to, right?

Of the shackles, you mean? thought Cross. Yes, I suppose.

Why did you wait? Derpy asked. If you planned on- She found the next word hard to utter. If you planned on killing them, why did you wait for me to say something?

Cross's gait became a bit slower. I hadn't planned on it.

You what?

His smile disappeared. I lost faith, little fairy. When Derpy didn't respond, he began to elaborate. When I reassured Feather by the campfire last night, I was going through the motions. As large as Feather's doubts had become, mine were deeper still. As I'm sure you can tell by now, she never puts on faces, so it was up to me to put on the brave one. One of the cart's wooden wheels bumped over a small pebble in the road. I was tired, to be frank. Years of searching for the Green Pastures had turned up nothing even close, and the promise of finding them beyond the grave became more appealing with each passing day. The only reason that I appeared resolute was for Feather's sake. When it looked like she had finally betrayed me, I felt free of the need to pretend any longer. I thought that my time had finally come.

Do you still think that?

The corners of Cross's mouth lifted once more. Not at all. You see, by idealizing my own end I'd overlooked something terribly important.

At that moment, Derpy felt a curious warmth embrace her. It reminded her of a hug, although she felt no physical embrace.

I hadn't found the Green Pastures, Cross continued. But I did find you, Derpy, and you bade me to continue. A fairy entered my mind just as I lost hope and told me to stand once more, regardless of my horrid past or even my despoiled present. I spent a long time looking for the land of miracles, only to nearly ignore the little miracle that practically fell into my lap. He laughed inwardly. I would never pull on your heartstrings for a bit of sympathy, little fairy. Before you spoke those strong words to me, I was ready to accept death. After you spoke them . . .

The feeling of warmth intensified. Derpy felt as if she were surrounded by clean sheets and a fluffy comforter.

Well, thought Cross. What I mean to say is, 'Thank you, little fairy.' Had you not been brave enough to confront me, I would have forgotten the joy of life and died on the doorstep of paradise.

You're welcome, Cross.

Cross raised an eyebrow. You sound sleepy, Miss Hooves.

Derpy yawned. I think I am.

Cross stopped in his tracks. Actually, you're starting to sound as if you're further away than before. There was no response. Are you there, little fairy? He remained still for a few moments, his wings spread lightly as he looked to the open sky.

"Cross?"

Silver Cross brought his gaze back to the path ahead upon hearing the voice of his partner. Feather Quill and Golden Harvest had paused to look back at him.

"Do you hear something?" Feather asked.

Cross smiled disarmingly. "Only the sound of tittering gossip. You don't have to start fighting over me just yet, you know."

Feather's eyes widened considerably. With only a single terrifying scowl shown to Cross she turned about mightily, nearly dragging Golden Harvest in her wake with the apparent intent of leaving her partner in the dust.

Cross resumed his forward pace with a renewed sense of vigor in his heart. See you again, my little fairy.

~E02 End~

NEXT
Amethyst 1B: "Locked Room"

A1B: Locked Room [Ø]

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Amethyst 1B: "Locked Room

Detective Liner stared down at the brutally dented door lying flat in the entryway of Room 208, then turned his gaze to the contents of the dormitory proper. "That's . . . interesting," he muttered in a husky baritone that carried faint traces of deliberate intimidation regardless of circumstance. The room's only occupant was Deputy Surefire, who had already begun turning out the furniture drawers in search of clues. Aside from the broken door, the place was spotlessly clean. Liner turned to Sheriff Badge. "Check with Deputy Warrant and the officers; make sure that the perimeter is still intact." Brass Badge departed without a word, leaving only Twilight and Spike standing next to the Detective.

Twilight cleared her throat. "You'd better get back to the library, Spike."

"Huh? Why?" asked Spike with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"Now we don't know where Three Strike is," Twilight elaborated as she stepped around the fallen door. "If she escaped, she may go after Derpy." The unicorn turned about to make sure that her partner understood her seriousness. "Someone has to make sure that she's okay. I can count on you, right Spike?"

Understanding that this wasn't the time to express his dismay at leaving the police work behind, Spike nodded. "You got it, Twilight."

As the violet-scaled dragon darted off down the hallway, Liner stepped around the fallen door. "Smart move, but can he really handle it? Perhaps I'd better send-"

"No," Twilight interrupted. "Spike's been working hard at learning how to defend himself, and he's certainly not a child anymore." She smiled a bit. "I'd actually feel sorry for Miss Strike if she tried anything with him on guard duty."

"Good enough," Liner remarked as he moved to check the windows. "Locked." He gazed about the room. "And no other exits. Magic?"

"I can check for that," Twilight volunteered, her horn beginning to shimmer. She closed her eyes as a glowing pink haze descended over the room. Deputy Surefire jumped at the sight of it, but Liner had a steady hoof on the officer's shoulder. A few moments later, the haze disappeared and Twilight's eyes snapped open.

"Well?" asked Liner.

"Nothing," Twilight gasped, more than a bit of surprise evident in her tone. "There's not a trace of magic in this room."

"Fan-tastic," Liner groaned, pulling the brim of his fedora low. "At least I can scratch 'teleportation' off the list of possibilities."

Sheriff Badge appeared in the doorway. His large mustache shook with the movements of his lower jaw as he made his report. "Perimeter checks out; nopony left this inn after the sighting of Miss Strike in the room. Even the civvy volunteer swears by it."

Detective Liner sighed and rubbed at the top of a short dresser with his hoof. "Stop wasting your time, Surefire. Look's like this place has been wiped down; I'll probably have to call in a C.S.I. unit just to get anything substantial. Now we just have to noodle out how an earth pony left a locked room."

Deputy Surefire sprang up from underneath the bed, holding a small object in his outstretched hoof. He smiled. "Not such a waste of time after all, eh?"

Liner took the small glass cylinder in hoof. It was clearly an empty bottle for prescription medicine. He read the name of the drug from the side label. "Ventium?"

"What?" exclaimed Twilight. "That can't be right."

Liner offered the bottle to her. "You've heard of it before?"

Twilight Sparkle confirmed the name on the label herself before looking back at Liner. "It's an experimental anti-psychotic that they tested at a few mental hospitals almost a year ago. I read about it in one of the library's medical journals."

Liner raised an eyebrow and scratched at his stubble. "So, what you're telling me is that you can't exactly pick this up at the local pharmacy?"

"Not even close," said Twilight, confusion beginning to dominate her tone. "This was only used on ponies with the most hopeless cases of mental illness in all of Equestria, maybe 20 subjects total and mostly criminals at that. What makes this even weirder is that Ventium was declared largely ineffective as a treatment option and disposed of." She looked hard into Liner's eyes. "As far as I know, nopony in the world should be able to get a hold of this."

Detective Liner walked slowly to the window and looked out at the golden streetlights of Ponyville.

"Even putting all that aside," Twilight continued. "Why would Miss Strike have it? She seemed pretty normal, all things considered."

"Two possibilities that I can think of," Liner replied in his husky baritone. "Either our perp's crazy," He removed his shades to reveal a pair of narrowed eyes. "Or she's crazy like a fox."

Sheriff Badge snorted. "Well, thank Celestia that we've got Detective One Liner on the job. Yeesh."

The wooden door to the Ponyville Library's guest room creaked open, pushed by the dull emerald pommel stone on the end of a sword handle wrapped in black leather. The gem captured only the faintest hint of the moonlight that shone from the chamber's round window. The extended arm of a violet-scaled dragon held the sheathed blade against the door. His emerald eyes and angular face emerged from the darkness as he stepped inside.

"Derpy?" Spike whispered, his slitted pupils scanning back and forth. A few moments of silence passed before he lowered the sword and scabbard to his side. Spike relaxed his tense form and exhaled slowly. The soft snoring of Derpy Hooves gave answer to his question. Everything else about the room appeared to be in order . . . with one possible exception. His eyes narrowed when he stared at the comfortable chair sitting by the bed.

Spike breathed in and shuddered slightly, his eyes widening. He sniffed deeply, hoping for another whiff of that pleasant and familiar smell that he'd caught on the air. When his efforts turned up nothing, he dismissed the event and took a few careful steps toward the sleeping pegasus mare.

Derpy lay on her side underneath the comforter with her back to the doorway. The covers rose and fell in steady rhythm with her peaceful breathing.

A blank and observant gaze had been the first expression on Spike's face when he approached. As he watched Derpy Hooves over the course of the next few seconds, his brow furrowed and his mouth transitioned into a frustrated scowl. Spike turned about and exited the room, careful to shut the door with as little noise from the aging hinges as possible. He leaned back against the wooden surface and gave his sheathed blade a pensive stare.

"Get your mind right, Spike," he whispered to himself. "There's no way that anything in the guest room smells like sulfur."

NEXT
Episode 03: "Cleaning House"

E03: Cleaning House [/]

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NOW

[Morning of Day 16]
Derpy Hooves awoke in the gentle warmth of the sun's rays that shone down from the round window at her bedside. She turned her sensitive eyes away from the bright glow to the conical spiral pattern cut into the wood of the ceiling, then sat bolt upright, sniffing furiously. She'd expected the usual pungent smell of burnt muffins to greet her. Instead, the enticing aroma of cinnamon wafted through the air, beckoning her to leave the peace of slumber behind and become a part of the day's sunlit glory. Derpy happily obliged the impulse, casting the blankets aside and giving a light stretch to her limbs before rolling to the side and promptly falling out of the bed.

THUMP!

"Derpy?" Twilight's voice sounded from the room beyond. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Derpy called back as she picked herself up off the floor. She'd told the truth; only her ego had been bruised. She made a mental note to remember that she wasn't sleeping on the floor anymore before opening the door to the library's spacious atrium. Her eyes scanned the chamber and quickly found the source of the wonderful smell.

Sitting atop the linen-draped table across from the kitchen was the morning's repast. Derpy could not remember the last time that she'd seen such a spread for a simple meal like breakfast. A small tower of oatcakes and cinnamon toast rose from the large plate at the center, accompanied by a wooden bowl filled with sliced apples just to the side. A ceramic sauce-boat filled with honey sat next to the butter dish while a light frost danced across the nearby glass pitcher of milk, indicating the effect of a mild cooling spell. Aside from the food, the table's only occupants were Twilight Sparkle and a stack of file folders to her left. The unicorn sipped at a bowl of milk and brushed back her slightly disheveled hair before turning to Derpy.

"Good morning," Twilight half-yawned. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah!" Derpy replied enthusiastically as she trotted up to the table's side, her eyes positively aglow at the sight. "How 'bout you?"

Twilight rubbed a bit at the dark spots underneath her eyes. "Sure, why wouldn't I?"

Derpy failed to notice the contradiction and stared hungrily at the meal before her. "Can I have some?"

Twilight smiled faintly. "Help yourself; I told you that Spike would make extra."

Derpy gave a small squeal of delight as she set about preparing a plate made exclusively of cinnamon toast drenched in butter and honey. It wasn't until she'd already wolfed down two sugar-laden slices that a further question occurred to her. "Where is Spike anyway?"

Twilight rolled her eyes and pointed to the front door. "Outside with Rarity."

Puzzled by the lavender unicorn's reaction, Derpy got up from the table and took a gander through the wide kitchen window. Her eyes first fell onto Rarity, the white unicorn mare whom Derpy remembered as the owner of the Carousel Boutique. The fashionista tossed her stylized violet hair and batted her eyelashes at the young dragon across from her as she spoke, though Derpy couldn't hear the conversation for herself. Spike rocked back and forth awkwardly as he responded, his face tinged slightly red as he gazed into Rarity's deep blue eyes. It was then that Derpy noticed the small bouquet of roses that Spike held at his back, skillfully hidden from Rarity's view.

"No way," Derpy gasped.

Twilight rose from her seat at the table and looked out the window with Derpy. She giggled. "Yeah, they've been doing this little dance for a while now."

Derpy turned to Twilight in shock. "I had no idea!"

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Really? It's only the worst-kept secret in Ponyville."

The gray pegasus returned her gaze to the window, shaking her head slowly. "It doesn't make any sense, though."

Twilight sighed. "I've been trying to tell him that for years. Spike's never even gotten up the nerve to-"

"Why would Spike want to eat flowers for breakfast?" Derpy interrupted. "I mean, I thought dragons liked gems and stuff." Her voice and expression became indignant. "And there's even a really good breakfast right here! What's wrong with him?"

Twilight placed a calm hoof on the pegasus mare's shoulder. "I think we'd better have a talk, Derpy."

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
Episode 03: "Cleaning House"

[Four Hours Later]
Twilight Sparkle looked up and gave Derpy Hooves a cock-eyed stare. "That's not possible."

Derpy shifted in place next to the round table in the middle of the library. "But it's true."

The unicorn gave Derpy's posterior another cursory glance before turning back. "You can't get a Cutie Mark in your sleep."

Spike stood on a chair behind Twilight and craned his neck for a better view. "Maybe you've just never heard of it happening before."

"I'm a student of history and biology; I'd know," Twilight replied without turning around. "Also, quit staring at Derpy's butt, Spike."

The young dragon pulled a face, his fangs showing as he did so. "What gives? You're doing it."

Twilight turned her gaze to Spike, more to resist Derpy's infectious smile than for effect. "I happen to be a female professional and not a hormonally-imbalanced male dragon. Sit down, Spike."

Spike complied by whirling around and dropping himself onto the wooden seat unceremoniously. "Yeah, professional female student."

Twilight's eyes narrowed. "Last nerve, Spike."

"Roger that," the dragon answered with a wave of his clawed hand. "Shutting up."

Twilight turned briskly back to Derpy only to find that the pegasus mare's smile had widened. She backed off slightly from her position at Derpy's side, unable to keep the corners of her own mouth from turning up in response. "In any case, you're telling me that you don't even know what it means?"

"Nope," Derpy replied cheerfully with a flick of her tail. "I just woke up one morning and there it was - a buncha circles." She raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to know what it is?"

Twilight sighed and began to pace toward the opposite side of the table. "Yes, and you should have learned about this in primary school."

Derpy lifted herself onto the seat next to Spike and smiled apologetically. "I wasn't very good at school."

Twilight sat across from her, laying a hoof upon a large scroll of parchment. "That's okay, Derpy; we'll take this one step at a time if we have to." She cleared her throat. "Getting your Cutie Mark is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It's supposed to happen at the moment that you realize the form of your special talent. Everypony is born with a talent for one thing or another, so having an epiphany about your own is basically the moment that you understand your purpose in life." She tapped a hoof on the table. "It's one of the most important events in any pony's life, and your mind has to be engaged for it to happen. Even if we were to suppose that you had a really intense dream where you came to understand your talent, you'd know it when you woke up. Do you see why there's no way to get a Cutie Mark without understanding what it means? You have to be thinking about its meaning to even get one."

Derpy shuffled back and forth in discomfort. "I'm sorry, Twilight. I don't know what else to say. It was just there one morning."

Twilight put a hoof to her chin. "Okay, let's try it this way. What does your mark look like to you?"

Derpy's eyes drifted for a moment before she responded. "Circles?"

"That's too indistinct," Twilight muttered, mostly to herself. "What would that even mean?"

"Looks like bubbles to me," Spike offered as he put his legs up on the table.

Twilight frowned when she caught sight of the young dragon's feet. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, but her eyes darted to the side in the next instant. She froze in place for a moment, then returned to a normal sitting position and refocused her gaze on Derpy with a bright smile. "Spike might be onto something, Derpy. What do you think? Have you ever tried anything with bubbles?"

One of Derpy's eyes turned upward in thought. "No, I don't think so."

"Not even a bubble bath?" Spike queried with a sideways glance. "You could be really good at them."

Twilight lowered her eyelids halfway and placed a hoof on the scroll once again. "Puerile fantasies aside, I think I've got just the thing to help you find out what your talent is, Derpy." She unrolled the parchment in a single sweeping flourish. The intricate diagram inked into the white paper nearly glowed in the light from a window above.

"Plan?" asked Spike in a slightly insecure tone. "When did you-"

"Wow," Derpy gasped, placing both hooves on the table and leaning forward over Twilight's handiwork. "You did all this for me?"

"Well," said Twilight, "a lot of the details still need to be worked out, but I came up with this plan so that you'd have a chance to try different jobs and find out what you're good at." She smiled broadly. "It works out pretty well, huh? If we focus on things that resemble your Cutie Mark, we're bound to find out what it means sooner or later."

Derpy's smile drooped as she examined the parchment. "There's a lot of ponies on here. Do they all want to help?"

"Of course!" Twilight chirped. "Once they realize that one of Ponyville's own is in trouble, I'm sure that anypony would lend a hoof."

Spike eyeballed an entry about halfway down the chart. "Fluttershy? Really?" He looked up at Twilight. "Good luck with that."

Twilight returned his statement with a mischievous grin. "I might have to twist an arm here and there, but I've built up plenty of favors over the years. Speaking of . . ." She touched a hoof to the top entry. "We're starting with the one who owes me the most. You're up, Spike."

"EH?!" Spike gasped, nearly falling out of his seat. "Why me?!"

"Bubbles, remember?" Twilight answered in a mockingly soothing voice. "What if they're soap bubbles?"

"Oh," Spike groaned, sitting as far back as the wooden chair would allow. "Oh no . . ."

"Oh yes," Twilight remarked as she began to roll up the parchment. "For the next week, Derpy will take on the role of Number Two Assistant with a focus on cleaning duties." She turned to the mare in question. "That okay with you, Derpy?"

"Yeah, boss!" Derpy barked, throwing what she hoped was a smart salute. The noise of her hoof smacking into her forehead resembled that of a wooden plank striking a hollow jug. "I'll do my best!"

"Boss?" Twilight repeated with a peculiar fascination.

"You're not supposed to brain yourself when you do that," said Spike.

[Morning of Day 17]
Derpy pulled open the flaps of the cardboard box before her and squinted at the contents. Her pupils slowly dilated as they adjusted to the darkness inside the closet. Piles of magazines lay within the box. She cocked her head to the side and tried to wrap her perception around the words and images on the covers.

"Sexy servants," she whispered as one eye scanned to the right. "A short skirt goes a long wa-"

"Derpy!" Spike shouted from the main library. "Are you upstairs?"

"Yeah!" Derpy called back in her chipper voice. She closed the box and shut the closet before trotting over to the second story interior balcony and poking her head over the edge. "What's up, boss?"

Spike stood in the center of the library with his toned and sinewy arms held akimbo. "'What's up?' she says." He sighed. "You're up, Derpy." His eyes narrowed. "As in 'upstairs'—you know—where the work isn't." He held out a clawed finger and made a beckoning motion. "Get down here already. We've only got an hour left 'till we're open for business."

"Roger!" Derpy replied with a bob of her head. She rushed for the nearby staircase and tripped on the very first step. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she tumbled forward head over hooves. Her wings expanded reflexively to stop her descent but they only managed a moment's glide off the stairs before giving out letting her plummet to the floor.

Spike stepped forward casually and caught the pegasus mare in his outstretched arms.

"Wow," Derpy exclaimed, her hooves held tight against her body and her face very close to Spike's. "Thanks again, Spike!" Her smile persisted under the dragon's withering gaze. "You're getting pretty good at this!"

"It only happens every time you use the stairs," Spike intoned with heavy sarcasm. He deposited Derpy onto her own four legs and snorted. "Who's training who around here anyway?" He pulled a checklist and quill from the nearby table. "Okay, please tell me that you at least cleared the used candles out of the study."

"Yep!" said Derpy as she opened her wings and began testing the joints.

Spike raised an eyebrow and lowered the list. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

Spike waved the quill a bit. "And nothing caught on fire?"

Derpy stopped surveying her wings and returned her gaze to the young dragon. "Nope." She smiled. "Aren't you proud of me?"

"I am," Spike replied with genuine awe. "I really and truly am." He brought the checklist back up and scratched on it with the quill. "Still, this wouldn't even be on the list if Twilight would pick up after herself once in a while." He turned about and walked toward the towering bookshelves.

Derpy Hooves followed after with a spring in her step. "Hey, Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does Twilight leave in the morning and not come back 'till the afternoon?" Derpy's cheerful voice contained only the barest hint of actual curiosity. "I thought she was the librarian."

Spike froze in his tracks. "Well, she . . ." There was a long pause. Spike cleared his throat and turned about to face Derpy, his long tail swishing about on the floor behind him. "She's got a lot of work to do on this job training project, you know?" He gave a half-hearted smile. "I mean, you saw all the ponies on that list, right? That's pretty hard to organize."

"It is?"

Spike gulped. "Y-yeah. Plus, she's still working with the Sheriff's Department on"—he winced and gave a false cough—"you know, something or other."

Derpy's expression went blank for a moment before returning to a bright smile. "Oh, okay! That's pretty cool." She gave a slight tilt of her head. "So, what's next on the list?"

Spike let out a quick sigh before looking back at the parchment. "Let's see, there's only a couple of things left to do. First of which is . . ." The corners of his mouth turned down in a grimace of despair. "Upper shelf dusting."

"Ooh," said Derpy. "That sounds fun."

Spike set the checklist down and grabbed a feather duster from the nearby rolling ladder. His eyes darted back and forth for a moment between Derpy and the object in hand. "Look, I really don't need anything falling down and knocking me out right now. You wanna just hold the ladder steady?"

Derpy's ears drooped. "Okay."

Spike clambered up the wooden ladder, his movements becoming more careful as he neared the top of its three-story height. Derpy latched her hooves around the third step and stared upward with a carefree grin. Her stray eye glanced instead at the roses in a vase on the library's center table. She twitched visibly.

"Hey, Spike?"

The dragon leaned forward to extend the duster into the depths of the bookshelf. "Yeah?"

"Why do you buy flowers sometimes but not give them to Rarity?"

The duster hit a deep pocket of dust bunnies, sending a grey plume of particulate into Spike's face. He shut his eyes just in time, but he still had to cough his way around the offending mess to reply. "I know. Pretty silly, right?"

"It is?" asked Derpy with a tilt of her head.

"Totally," Spike replied. "It's so easy for me to get pumped up, buy some flowers, and make all kinds of plans." His shoulders slumped. "Still, when it comes time to actually do something I'm always wussing out."

"Why? Don't you want Rarity to know that you have a crush on her?"

Spike leaned back and cast a sideways glance at Derpy. "Does anypony not know about that at this point?"

Derpy blinked and beamed a smile back at him. "Twilight said I was the last one."

Spike groaned and returned to dusting. "Then there's your answer. Rarity's got to know what's up by now. Heck, I practically blurted it out myself about a year-and-a-half ago." He slid the duster about with greater force. "If she was interested, you think she'd bring it up at some point. You know, drop a hint?" Spike stopped his movements and stared at the books. "Saying it out loud like this makes it all sound so stupid. I've gotta stop kidding myself." He took a step down on the ladder. "A guy like me doesn't even have a chance."

Derpy's nose caught a whiff of burning pastries. Her brow furrowed. Her smile vanished. "Why not?!" she barked, giving the ladder a sharp knock with her hooves.

Spike yelped and gripped the ladder tightly. "Derpy! Watch what you're doing!"

Derpy blinked hard, the muscles in her face relaxing as she did so. "Oh. Sorry, Spike."

Spike sighed and motioned with the duster. "It's not a big deal. Could you move the ladder to the right a bit? I'm done here."

Derpy slowly walked the ladder to the side on its squeaking wheels. "What I mean is, why don't you just tell her how you really feel?" She put a hoof to her chest. "If somepony gave me flowers and said that they liked me . . ." She blushed and stopped short of her destination.

Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

Derpy glanced up at Spike and began waving her outstretched hoof wildly. "Well, I'd be surprised, but I'd be really happy too! You shouldn't give up before you try!"

Spike gave a dry chuckle and turned back to the shelves. "That's just it—I've been trying for a long time now. And I'm getting tired of not seeing anything change."

A sudden image of Silver Cross with his own sword held against his neck flashed through Derpy's mind. "Then try something new!" she half-shouted, giving the ladder a mighty shove.

The force of the direct impact caused the climbing implement to bounce outward with a clattering jolt, throwing Spike from the top and out into open air. Derpy watched in horror for the brief moment that passed before the young dragon's tail reflexively wrapped around the top step. He swung back, reaching behind with his forearms to prevent himself from hitting the ladder bodily.

Spike's palms hit the sides with a thud. He looked at Derpy scornfully from his upside-down position. "Okay, we're finishing this another day."

Derpy turned her gaze downward and pawed a hoof at the wooden floor. "Sorry, Spike. I just don't know what went-" She winced. "I'm sorry."

The dragon slid to the ground and sighed. "Apology accepted. Just try to think about what you're doing a little more and—you know—about what I'm doing a little less."

Derpy brought her head up swiftly, flipping her mane to the other side of her face in the process. "Seriously though, if you want something to change, then you should do something new." She smiled. "That's what I'm doing."

Spike looked upward. "Huh, I guess that telling Twilight about your problems was something new for you."

Derpy shook her head. "No, I did something new just 15 minutes ago."

Spike looked hard into Derpy's eyes. "What? You were here 15 minutes ago."

Derpy nodded. "Yep! I was upstairs."

Spike's eyes widened. "In the study . . . cleaning out the used candles." His irises had narrowed to pinpricks. "What did you do?"

Derpy rolled one of her eyes. "Well, I figured that she could still use those candles since they aren't melted all the way yet and I wondered why you'd want me to throw them away anyhow." She began to prance in place. "Then I remembered that Twilight wants everything in the library to be really clean. The candles were kinda dirty, so I'm cleaning them."

Spike shivered. "How?"

Derpy brought her hooves to a standstill and leaned closer, her voice descending in volume to a half-whisper. "I was kinda confused about that at first, but the candles are about the same color white that the toilet is, right?"

Spike's mouth fell open. "Oh no."

Derpy nodded proudly. "So, I'm letting them soak in some toilet cleaner for a while. They should come out good as new!"

Spike grabbed Derpy's shoulders and shook her. "Where? Where did you-"

BAM!

Spike looked around Derpy to see a plume of white gas erupt from the kitchen sink. Bits of wax bounced to the floor. Two seconds later, the decorative curtain on the window above the sink caught fire. Calm and cool, Spike took his hands from Derpy and walked across the room to the fire extinguisher.

Derpy turned about. "Something went wrong, didn't it?" she asked in a sullen voice.

Spike's voice sounded in a carefully measured tone as he unlatched the safety device from the wall. "Take a break for an hour or two, Derpy." He cast a baleful look back at the downcast mare. "Take it somewhere that isn't here."

[High Noon of Day 18]
Rainbow Dash whistled loudly. "Wow. Twilight gets you out of one mess and two days later you're stepping right into the middle of another one." She flashed a toothy grin underneath her work goggles. "Smooth, Derpy."

"It's not a mess," said Derpy with a frustrated hooftap. "Spike wants Rarity to be his 'very special somepony.' Rarity might like that—no, she should like that." She pushed out her bottom lip in a furious pout. "I think it's simple. He should tell her how he feels."

The hot sun beat down on the two ponies from high overhead as they worked to repair the damaged third story of the Ponyville Town Hall. Two of the ten exterior walls stood in raised positions, held fast to the structure by temporary support beams. Two more lay finished on the plywood floor along with various pieces of lumber and the assorted contents of Rainbow's toolbag. Both ponies wore safety goggles and had towels draped about their necks.

Rainbow Dash giggled. "Very special what? It's pronounced 'marefriend', Derpy." She waved a hoof and began digging through a pile of tools on her left. "You're talking like a foal again . . . and you're thinking like one."

"Am not!" Derpy exclaimed with a forward lean. The motion caused a trickle of sweat to run down her face. She used her towel to dab the offending rivulet away as she continued. "Spike is a great guy. Anypony would be happy to have him for a very special-" She stopped and looked to the side. "Um, marefriend."

Rainbow Dash pulled a hammer from the pile with her teeth and fitted it into a tool harness on her right hoof. "Okay, let's roll with that for a minute." She leveled the hammer at Derpy with a cocky grin. "Let's say that Snips confessed to you. Would you be really happy and want to be his marefriend?"

Derpy laughed at the sudden thought of the chubby colt offering her a valentine.. "Snips wouldn't do that."

Rainbow groaned and waved the hammer. "This is pretend, Derpy. I'm trying to teach you something; just play along."

Derpy considered this for a moment with a hoof to her chin before voicing her thoughts as they came. "I'd be really happy that he felt that way, but . . ." She gave a light shake of her head. "I wouldn't want to be his marefriend."

Rainbow Dash brought the hammer's head close to one of the nails on the support beam base in front of her. "Now why is that? Is it 'cause he's fat?"

Derpy's eyes narrowed at the question. "No."

Rainbow raised the hammer, not looking up from the nail. "Is it 'cause you think that you're a better pony than he is?"

"No way."

Rainbow Dash brought the hammer down on the nail with a resounding thump. She looked up at Derpy. "Is it because you have nothing in common with him?"

"No," Derpy answered with only half-confidence before slumping her shoulders in the next moment. "Well, kinda."

"Now isn't that interesting?" Rainbow intoned with a raised eyebrow. She selected another nail from the pile and began to work it into the base with a sure hoof. "Keep that in mind while I tell you a little bit about Spike." She tapped the nail lightly to set its position. "He hasn't just been fawning over Rarity for the past year—he's been working himself to the bone. He pulls long shifts at the library so that he can save up bits to take Rarity on dates. He does all of Carousel Boutique's landscaping by himself. He practically works there part-time with all the labor he puts in on Rarity's gem hunts. That's free labor, in case you didn't know."

Derpy's eyes widened a bit more with each addition.

"He's Twilight's live-in maid and personal chef," Rainbow continued. "And ever since that . . . whatever it was happened five months ago, he's gotten even busier. He does physical training with Iron Will on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. He trains with a freaking sword on every other day. Last but not least, he's got something like a social life to manage on top of all that."

Derpy Hooves took a slow breath. "Holy cow. What happened five months ago?"

"Weirdness, that's what," Rainbow Dash muttered dismissively as she hammered down another nail. "The short version is this: everything went pear-shaped, Rarity got hurt, and Spike blamed himself." She put the hammer down and removed her goggles. She toweled the sweat away from her face and looked directly into Derpy's eyes. "That's not the important part though. What's important is, out of all of those things that Spike does, which ones have anything in common with Rarity or her plans for the future?"

"I dunno . . . all of them?" Derpy replied hopefully.

"Try 'none,'" Rainbow deadpanned. "Rarity designs dresses. She's in love with high society. She wants to have a picture-perfect life in Canterlot with a dashing Prince Charming where she doesn't have to worry about all the little things like sales and marketing anymore." She leaned forward. "That 'prince' has a name too. He's called 'Fancypants.'"

Derpy lifted one of her forelegs in apprehension. "What're you trying to say?"

Rainbow leaned back with a sly grin. "I'm saying that all those 'consulting' visits that Fancypants makes to Ponyville ain't got nothin' to do with business, at least not the way you and I understand it." She reveled in the blush that arose on Derpy's face for a moment before continuing. "I'm also saying that Spike missed the boat a long time ago and he's missing the point even now. If you're rooting for him, then you're missing it too. Spike may want to be Rarity's man, but he's just a confused kid at heart and he hasn't got a prayer. It's sad for sure, and I'm positive that Twilight's been trying to help him get over it." She pointed an accusing hoof. "What you're doing is trying to get Spike back on track for some heartbreak, and that's only gonna make a big mess in the end." Rainbow gave a shrug. "I rest my case."

Rainbow Dash's words landed heavily on Derpy's heart. She'd come to work on the town hall today with vigor and verve. She'd imagined herself a fixer of buildings and perhaps a helping hoof in a budding relationship. Tears welled up in her eyes. Was she still the same hopeless pony who'd let her entire life fall apart around her?

"Derpy?" asked Rainbow Dash. "You okay?"

The multi-hued mare's voice sounded distant to Derpy's ears. Another voice, familiar and masculine, sounded much closer.

I lost faith, Ms. Hooves.

Derpy's expression went blank.

As large as Feather's doubts had become, mine were deeper still.

Derpy sniffed and blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

I'd overlooked something terribly important.

Derpy Hooves stood straight up and frowned at her companion. "You're a jerk, Rainbow Dash."

The pegasus mare in question face-faulted. "What?"

Derpy removed her goggles. "Isn't Spike your friend?"

Rainbow Dash glanced to the side. "Yeah, but-"

"But nothing!" Derpy interrupted. She stamped a hoof down on the plywood. "Spike is working hard on something, and all you can talk about is how he doesn't have a chance. If you're his friend, then you should help him instead!"

"Derpy," Rainbow groaned. "Sometimes 'helping' really doesn't help."

The voice in Derpy's head spoke once more.

I spent a long time looking for the land of miracles, only to nearly ignore the little miracle that practically fell into my lap.

The wall-eyed pegasus mare smiled. "It helped Cross." Her smile grew wider. "I think I know what to do now."

Rainbow Dash tilted her head. "Who's Cross?"

Derpy backed up a bit and spread her wings. "Sorry, Rainbow Dash. I've gotta run an errand." A powerful flap lifted her hooves from the plywood. "I'll help out some more tomorrow, okay?"

"Wait a minute," said Rainbow. She rose from her sitting position and nearly tripped over a piece of lumber. "What're you gonna do?"

Derpy bolted off across the rooftops of Market Square, faltering a bit and knocking a few bricks loose from a chimney as she did so. The white towel trailed behind her neck like a scarf in the wind.

Rainbow Dash stood at the edge of the third story and put a hoof to the side of her mouth as she shouted after the departing mare. "You're just gonna screw things up again, Derpy! Don't say I didn't warn you!"

The violet door of the Carousel Boutique received the full brunt of Derpy's momentum, bursting open and jangling the bell above with fierce clamor. The pegasus mare skidded to a halt on the polished floor and flashed a brilliant cockeyed grin. "Hi!" she barked enthusiastically.

Rarity whirled about from the center of the storefront. Her curled bangs fell over one eye, but the other went wide to match her hanging lower jaw. The look of surprise only lasted for the briefest of moments before a practiced smile took its place. "Welcome to Carousel Boutique, darling." She squinted a bit. "You're . . . Miss Derpy Hooves, isn't that right?"

"Yeah," Derpy replied, her gaze dancing across the racks of clothing. "Except for the 'Miss' part." She turned one eye back to Rarity. "I can see how you'd make that mistake, though. It's a really popular first name."

"I-indeed," Rarity stuttered as Derpy trotted forward. The fashionista brought a hoof to her nose when the sweat towel-bedecked mare passed by. "Good gracious, dear. Do be sure to have a shower before you come in next time. I can't have the boutique smelling like a . . ." Her voice trailed off as Derpy neared the back of the store. "Like a . . ." Her eyebrows went up as Derpy passed behind a black curtain. "Now wait just a minute, Miss Hooves!"

"'Derpy Hooves,'" the pegasus mare corrected as Rarity rounded the corner.

Rarity's smile faded. "Derpy, this part of the store is sectioned off for a reason. I think you'd be much more interested in-"

Derpy pointed strongly at an article of clothing just past Rarity's face. "I want that one. How much is it?"

Rarity's uncertain eyes darted back and forth between the outstretched hoof and the item in question. "How old did you say you were again?"

"I didn't."

Rarity's eyelids fell halfway. "I know, dear. How old are you?"

"Nineteen*," said Derpy. "Why?"

Rarity looked at the dress and swallowed. "No reason."

[Afternoon of Day 19]
Spike strode briskly from the treeline at Ponyville's eastern border, sword and scabbard clattering lightly against his green dorsal spines with every step. He drew the strap across his chest a bit tighter and took in a deep breath of the crisp pine-scented air. The muscles in his arms burned slightly from the exertion he'd put them through over the past hour, but the rest of his body felt loose and limber. Perhaps most importantly, the daily training regimen had cleared his mind of the stress that the library's newest resident now caused him on a daily basis.

Even so, Spike gave a sigh as he left the soft grass for the dirt road of Stirrup Street. He'd imagined that dealing with Derpy Hooves would be no trouble at all compared to his experience in raising Peewee, the phoenix chick that he'd rescued from his own kin over a year ago. The first few weeks of rearing the adorable feathery bundle had quickly soured Spike's initial optimism. His cleaning duties had become split between things defecated on and things burned to a crisp. Every squeaky cry just a few notes off-key had torn Spike away from his comfort zone and had him worrying for hours. The bird's cute face and soft feathers had been little recompense for all the trouble he caused.

A pair of lanky unicorn stallions traveling toward the outskirts of town drifted close to Spike on the roadway. "Can you believe that Books & Branches carries stuff like this?" one of the two marveled as he waved a magazine about with his magic.

Still, Spike mused to himself. Things got better. Peewee benefited from the rapid maturation rate shared by all phoenixes, and within just three months' time, he'd become a glorious and regal bird fit to rival even Celestia's pride and joy. The weeks that followed had been a time of great elation and fulfillment for the young dragon. He smiled broadly at the memories that even his pet's tearful departure back to the wilderness could not dim.

Spike passed by an outdoor cafe on the corner of Stirrup and Bale as he turned toward the library. Among the various patrons, an overweight earth pony stallion gesticulated wildly to his friends across the table. "I'm telling you guys; it's all about the absolute territory! That hallowed ground between the skirt and the thigh-highs . . . it's too much!"

"Too much to be an accident, you mean," commented one of the others. "Best to keep it in your fantasies, man. Girls who dress like that are massive teases; I don't care how innocent they . . ."

Spike frowned as he drifted out of earshot. His thoughts returned to Derpy Hooves—impossibly innocent, hopelessly naive, tremendously clumsy . . . and a full-grown mare. Spike leaned back as he walked and stared at the open sky. Peewee was different, he thought. Between Fluttershy and Princess Celestia, I had all the help and advice I could ever need. When it comes to Derpy . . . The unyielding brightness of the blue sky began to hurt his eyes. I might be the first guy to ever deal with something like this. He squinted. Well, at least she didn't blow anything up yesterday. That's progress.

Spike brought his gaze back down to see the library directly ahead. He came to a complete standstill one second later. A crowd of stallions had gathered around the door and at every ground-floor window. They seemed to be intently observing the interior and making awestruck observations that were hard to make out at this distance. Spike frowned hard enough to expose his fangs. Jinxed it, didn't I?

The young dragon ventured forward with a confident stride. He cleared his throat loudly. "Okay, guys. Comin' through." Spike put his hands out to part the crowd and found himself immediately bounced back by the tightly-pressed bodies. "Hey!" he exclaimed. A whooping cheer from beyond the open doorway drowned out the sound of his indignant voice. Spike snarled and pantomimed the action of rolling up a pair of shirt sleeves. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" The stallions failed to notice him.

Spike gathered his resolve, hunkered down on his hands and knees, and began his journey down the low road into the library. The tight spaces between the stallions' shuffling hooves made navigation difficult. The overpowering scent of body odor threatened to obliterate his senses. He held his breath as much as possible and continued onward. He lost that breath when a familiar sight passed before his eyes. "MILFy Maids #39?" he gasped. The magazine exchanged hooves in front of him and was soon lost to view. Still, there were others. Spike's eyes darted back and forth as he saw the covers of his prized collection—his stash—drifting through the crowd. His blood ran cold. His throat dried up. His muscles surged with power and propelled him through the last of the ever-shifting cavern. Spike exited the last set of legs with a pop and came to a rolling halt near the library's center table.

A cheery voice that carried just a hint of boyishness rang out over the din. "Oh! Hey there, Spike!"

The stallions began to laugh. Spike looked up from his prone position. Derpy Hooves waved the feather duster at him from the top of the three-story rolling ladder. Spike's gaze drifted from the duster to the mare herself. What he saw caused the most peculiar physical sensation—he felt as if he'd started to fall through the floor and into a cold, dank abyss. White lace. Black satin. White apron. Black thigh-highs. A heavenly headband. A buxom bustier. And ribbons . . . ribbons everywhere. Spike gulped in stupefied horror only to be rewarded with a feeling akin to his Adam's Apple getting lodged in his windpipe. He coughed mightily and lost control of his facial muscles. The sudden absence of tension left behind something resembling a lopsided grin.

Derpy squealed with delight and spread her wings wide. "He likes it!" she cried.

"HE LIKES IT!" the crowd shouted in response before dissolving into chuckles.

Spike clambered to his feet and stared at the impossible sight above. His mouth moved as if to form words but sound refused to issue forth.

Derpy turned herself back toward the ladder, the folds of her short skirt swaying with every movement. "Hang on," she called out above the racket. "I'm coming down!" With the utterance of the word "down", she slipped and lurched forward to maintain balance. The back hem of her skirt flew up in dramatic fashion.

A chorus of "oohs" and "aahs" arose from the crowd. A pair of flashbulbs went off outside the windows.

"Derpy!" Spike shouted with a mixture of anger and concern.

"Whoa," said Derpy as she swung back again with a bit too much force. Her hooves left the ladder entirely and she plummeted earthward with a startled yelp.

Spike stepped forward with automatic ease and caught the frilly bundle, straining a bit this time with his tired arms.

A thunderous round of applause blasted forth from the crowd along with a few encouraging whoops.

"Thanks, Spike!" cheered Derpy with a clap of her stockinged hooves. "You're just awesome at this!"

The dazed dragon prepared to vent his rage and confusion only to have the words die in his throat. Derpy's eyes had centered for the first time since he'd met her. Unable to meet her focused gaze, Spike glanced instead at the next thing that caught his attention . . . her ponytail. His eyes widened. Derpy had tied her normally unkempt blond mane into a well-groomed ponytail with a black velvet ribbon. The gorgeous amber eyes and enticing ensemble hit Spike with their full effect. He dropped the pegasus mare like a hot potato, his face burning red with emotions that he dared not evaluate.

"Woohoo!" cried Derpy as she landed awkwardly on her hooves. She turned to the crowd with a toss of her mane. "Isn't Spike the best, you guys?"

"YEAH!" came the deafening answer.

"Derpy!" shouted Spike as he pointed an accusing claw. "Where did you get that dress?" His left eyelid twitched. Stupid question, he thought. Why did I focus on the maid outfit?

"This?" Derpy replied with a shake of her rump. The satin skirt billowed in response. "Well, I didn't have enough bits to buy it, so I just rented it for this afternoon."

Sympathetic "awws" rang out from the stallions. Charitable golden bits began to rain down on the center table.

"Cut that out!" Spike bellowed. He waved his hand in a great sweeping motion. "Never mind about the dress." His eyes narrowed. "Where did these . . . these magazines come from? Why do they have them?"

Derpy cocked her head to the side. "You told me to put any books that I found lying around back on the shelves. Can't anypony borrow the library books?"

"They were in my closet!"

"Yeah, I know," said Derpy with a nod. "I figured that you must really like them, so I thought I'd dress up like the mares in the magazines." She presented Spike with a demure smile. "How about it? Do you feel more sure of yourself yet?"

Spike stood slack-jawed. "W-what? I don't even . . ."

Derpy turned to the crowd in a whirl of lace and ribbons. "Hey, guys! Spike's not sure if he should ask Rarity out on a date or not!" She raised a hoof high in the air. "Who thinks he should give it a try?!"

Spike nearly choked in surprise. He fought for air and looked about wildly as a powerful chant began to build all around him.

"Ask her out. Ask her out."

Spike drew in a deep breath. Derpy began pumping her hoof up and down.

"Ask her out! Ask her out!"

Spike noticed an alarmingly familiar and feminine voice join in from just behind.

"Ask her out! Ask her out!"

Spike turned about and found himself staring into the grinning visage of Twilight Sparkle.

"ASK HER OUT! ASK HER OUT!"

"AAH!" Spike screeched at a higher volume than the chanters. He recoiled several feet from the librarian's position.

Silence fell over about half of the stallions present at the sound of Spike's panicked cry. The rest became increasingly quiet as they began to notice Twilight's presence. Within less than a half-minute, the room was devoid of any sound save for a light shuffling of awkward hooves.

Twilight Sparkle's grin continued in spite of the change in atmosphere.

Spike held up a shaky open palm. "Twilight, I know you're mad; but before you say anything, I just want you to know that this is not my fault."

A copy of Homegrown Hotties #42 slipped out from the crowd and landed at Twilight's hooves.

Twilight smiled wider. "Why would I be mad?" she mused in a singsong voice. "This kind of thing is great publicity for a library managed by an apprentice to the crown."

Spike dropped his arm. "You mean that?" he asked, his voice full of cautious hope.

Twilight's left eye twitched ferociously. "Not so much." She gave a fearsome scowl to the crowd and her voice rose to thunderous bellow. "EVERYPONY CLEAR OUT! WE'RE CLOSED!"

The grumbling mass of stallions pushed toward the doorway like mildly perverse molasses sliding through a wooden funnel. Spike's entire body slumped in embarrassment and defeat. Derpy Hooves cast worried glances back and forth between the room's occupants.

Twilight Sparkle frowned and looked down her nose at the young dragon, floating the magazine before her into the air with a pinkish magic aura. She waited until the last stallion had closed the door behind him before speaking. "First of all, I am very disappointed in you, Spike. I've expressly forbidden the presence of this sort of . . ."—she gave the magazine a look of utter disgust—"inappropriate literature in my library." An ethereal light burst forth from her glowing horn and reduced Homegrown Hotties to a smoking pile of ash. Twilight turned her disapproving grimace back to the downcast Spike. "I want every one of these that's still on the shelves disposed of. We won't be accepting any that are brought back, and you will write a personal letter of apology to every single parent who complains that their children got a hold of one of these today. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Spike replied with utter resignation.

"Wait, Twilight," Derpy exclaimed. She trotted between the two, taking a wide stance suggestive of protecting a vulnerable target from dire threat. "Spike's telling the truth; this is all my fault." Her throat tightened up and took her volume down a notch. "I'm the one who put those weird books on the shelves. You should punish me instead."

Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth to speak but left it hanging open instead. Her eyes widened as she took in the full effect of Derpy's ensemble. She shook her head and continued in a confused tone. "Derpy, I don't even know where to begin. I can sort of understand the part where you decided to stock the shelves with Spike's 'secret stash,' but . . ." She reached out and tossed the end of the lace ribbon on Derpy's armband. "What is this about?"

Derpy bit at her lower lip before responding. "I wanted to give Spike some confidence."

Spike raised his head and gave a quizzical stare. "What?"

Derpy backed up to her right so that she could face the room's other two occupants at the same time. "Spike, you sounded so sure that Rarity wouldn't go out with you, but you can't know that. You said that you were tired of nothing changing too, but I don't think that's right either." She tapped a hoof down, her voice growing more confident with each statement. "I think that you've worked really long and really hard to be a great guy for Rarity. It's just that you've been working so long for such a far-off dream that you forgot what it's like to get something back." She gave the satin folds of the dress a demonstrative shake. "I know that it's not really me you want to see dress like this."

Spike's face turned stark crimson. He suddenly found it difficult to meet Derpy's gaze.

The pegasus mare gave a warm smile. "But I figured that if you got a bit of something that you really like, then you'd start to believe that your dreams can come true again."

Twilight nodded sagely. "I think Derpy's actually got a really good point here, Spike. You've come a long way in the last year or so, too long of a way to indulge in"—she grinned awkwardly—"juvenile fantasies while you moan and groan about your chances with the mare who got you this far." She crossed one arm in front of the other and gave her head a tilt. "Just hearing you complain about your feelings moved Derpy so much that she went out and did something crazy for your benefit."

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble, Spike," Derpy added in a sheepish tone. "But you really do have a chance. Don't say you know how it's gonna turn out. You never really know until you try."

The emotional roller-coaster ride of the last hour had rendered Spike's expression thoroughly blank. His gaze drifted uncertainly between the two mares.

"Well," said Twilight in the soothing manner of a big sister. "Clumsy expression aside, what do you think, Spike? Are you going to waste Derpy's sentiments?"

Spike's attention focused squarely on the satin-clad pegasus mare. Gone were the initial shock at Derpy's appearance and the uncomfortable arousal that had followed. In place of both now stood a deep sense of gratitude and obligation. He dropped his gaze to the floor, swallowed hard at the knot in his throat, and brought his head back up with a confident smile emblazoned upon his reptilian visage. "No," he answered. "No, I'm not."

[Evening of Day 20]
The trimmed blades of grass outside Carousel Boutique stirred and swayed in the cool breeze, their verdant green painted indigo in the fading light. The stark silence of the time between the workday's end and the nightlife's dawn drained all sense of reality and presence from the world; neither the birds fluttering back to their nests nor the golden light from the ornate building's windows could stave off the dream-like pall that had descended over Ponyville. A young violet-scaled dragon stood at the door that shared his primary hue. With his left hand he held a bouquet of a dozen roses, their ardent red undimmed by the sun's departure. With his right, he gave a gentleman's knock to the varnished wood. He took in and released a deep breath at the sound of trotting hooves within the boutique. Here we go.

The door swung open to reveal Rarity's stylish countenance. She greeted the sight before her with a brilliant smile and a coquettish bat of her long eyelashes. "Spike, dear!" she exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! Whatever brings you over to the boutique at this hour?" Her azure eyes drifted down and rose up again to meet Spike's in the breadth of a half-second. Her smile widened. "Are those for me?"

A sarcastic response came to the forefront of Spike's mind. He gave it a vicious mental kick and reached instead for the simple truth. "Absolutely," he intoned, bringing the crimson flowers forward and up.

A magic aura of cornflower blue issued forth from Rarity's horn and lifted the bouquet underneath her muzzle. She sniffed deeply. "Oh my goodness, they're wonderful." She moved the flowers to the side to give the young dragon a view of her best sultry gaze. "Thank you, Spike. I hope you'll forgive me for asking, but what's the occasion?"

Spike locked his hands behind his back to keep them from fidgeting. He did his level best to return Rarity's playful expression in kind. "I didn't think I needed an occasion to see you smile, Rarity."

The barest hint of pink arose on the unicorn mare's white cheeks. Rarity recovered with a wave of her hoof and a toss of her violet mane. "Someone's working on a silver tongue to go with all that scaly muscle I see." She leaned forward and gave her companion a quick peck on the cheek. "Careful, Spike," she chided. "You'll turn a young filly's head with talk like that."

The brief physical contact threw Spike's train of thought about ten feet off the rails. He managed to keep his physical composure, but found himself wrestling with the potent mental stimulus. This has happened before, he thought. Don't go googly-eyed. You came here to do something new, didn't you? Is this really as far as you want to go?

Rarity turned about with a flourish of the coil in her tail. She floated the bouquet ahead of her as she stepped back through the open door. "You're in luck, you know," she said over her shoulder. "I've got just the perfect vase for these. Why don't you come inside and visit for a while?"

Spike remained standing in the doorway and drew a pair of colorful paper slips from his dorsal spines. "Actually, I came here to give you an invitation."

"Truly?" Rarity remarked as she lowered the thick stems of the flowers into a hoof-blown glass receptacle. She shook her head reprovingly and trotted back toward Spike. "Whatever has Ponyville's mail service come to that you should have to deliver an invitation by . . . hand . . ." Her voice trailed off. She blinked hard and stared at the shiny slips of paper in Spike's outstretched claws. "Spike," she gasped. "Where did you get these?"

The pair of tickets reflected the store's lamplight and cast glittery golden sparkles in Rarity's eyes. The dragon's heart skipped a beat, but he flashed a toothy grin anyhow. "I've got my connections."

"Two reservations for La Bouchée Désir," Rarity observed, all pretense gone from her expression. "One of the most scenic and expensive restaurants in Canterlot." Her gaze met with Spike's. "One of the most exclusive as well. It caters only to the nobility, and even they have to make reservations weeks in advance."

Spike flushed with pride. "I thought you'd be familiar with this place."

"I've never been," Rarity whispered with a hoof over her mouth. Her eyes darted to the side. "I've always wanted to . . ."

The powerful chill of adrenaline began to course through Spike's veins. He'd done it; he'd never seen Rarity this unguarded before. When he next spoke, he did so in a suave and masculine tone that—for the first time in his life—he felt comfortable using. "The reservation is for next Saturday, a table for two on the River Terrace." One last bit of icy hesitation clawed at his resolve. Spike proceeded to put that feeling in its place. "Rarity, will you go there with me as my date?"

The question that had been on Spike's mind for the last year came out more even-toned than the young dragon had thought possible. His heart fluttered with anticipation in the few seconds that he waited for Rarity's answer. The unicorn mare's slight blush turned redder than the rose bouquet. Her eyes grew moist; the corners of her mouth turned up in a warm smile. Spike's heart soared.

"I'm sorry," said Rarity with a crack in her tone. "I'm so sorry, Spike. I can't."

Spike's confidence shrugged off the blow. "Oh, are you already doing something next Saturday?"

Rarity shook her head slowly. "No. No, I'm not. It's just . . ." She brought her hoof back to the floor. "If we go there together, there'll be no walking it back. Everypony in Equestria will think that we're a couple."

Spike still felt as if he were on the verge of success. He decided to go for broke. "I don't mind that, Rarity. Ever since the first day I came to Ponyville, I've only had my eyes on you." Thoughts of his long struggle to attain masculinity for her sake entered his mind. I'm not here to put a burden on her. He pushed them aside and continued. "You probably know that already, but you knowing it isn't the same as me saying it." Spike clenched a fist to boost his resolve. He stared directly into Rarity's wavering eyes. "I know that I'm a dragon, but the only thing I've wanted to be for the past three years is your stallion."

Silence followed. Spike had imagined many potential responses to that statement ever since he'd first thought of it; the soundless bewilderment that had overtaken his chosen mare was one of the worst. After a time that felt far too long, Rarity sat back on her haunches with a heavy sigh. Spike waited patiently with a knot in his throat so large and painful that it threatened to choke him.

"Spike," Rarity began at last. "I don't want you to misunderstand me. You have grown up to be a wonderful young gentleman." She tapped a hoof. "You are the kindest, bravest, strongest, and most under-appreciated bachelor I know. You are going to make some young lady so happy someday that she won't know what to do without you, and you deserve every bit of the love that she'll have for you." Rarity hung her head low. "It's just that . . . I'm not that mare, Spike. I can't give you what you want . . . what you deserve."

A terrifying numbness eclipsed Spike's sense of touch. He felt completely disconnected from the physical world. "You already have a stallion," he guessed in monotone.

"No," said Rarity as she looked into Spike's unnervingly dry eyes. "No, I don't. You'll think I'm terrible, but I've known how you felt about me ever since you gave that fire ruby to me on your first birthday in Ponyville." Her own eyes teared up. "I should have spoken with you about it before now. I shouldn't have let you try so hard for my sake, but every time I gathered the nerve to say something . . ." She paused and bit at her soft lower lip. "I was scared, Spike. I am scared of losing one of my best friends." Rarity made a visible effort to read the young dragon's expression. "The longer I delayed, the harder it became. In the end, all I can say is that I'm sorry." A single tear streamed down her right cheek. "I've failed you, Spike. It's all right if you hate me for it."

In the void left behind by Spike's hopes and dreams, a consummate professionalism rose to the fore. Swallowing back every last emotion, he put on a practiced smile and opened his palms wide. "Rarity, you're being silly. I could never hate you." He bumped a fist to his chest scales and winked. "As long as you want this weirdo dragon for a friend, you'll have him."

Rarity wiped her tear away and gave a small smile. "You really mean that, don't you, dear?"

"Absolutely," said Spike with the very same inflection that he'd used when he first arrived. He gazed up at the sky to see that night had finally arrived. The golden streetlamps were coming to life in the distance. He looked back at Rarity and smiled in a manner that hurt his face. "And I think I've absolutely wasted enough of your time this evening."

"You've done nothing of the sort," Rarity corrected. She walked slowly forward and—after a moment's hesitation—put a single arm around Spike's neck in a brief, stilted hug. "I know how much this meant to you," she said as she backed away. "If there's anything that I can do to make it up to you, anything at all . . ." Her volume drained to zero as she realized that the smile on the young dragon's face hadn't moved. Worry entered her tone. "Will you be all right, Spike?"

"Yeah," Spike's voice said for him. "I'm sure I will be."

A pair of eavesdropping ponies watched Spike turn to leave from their hiding place behind a building across the street. Twilight Sparkle's horn glowed faintly with the last of a hearing augmentation spell. She frowned and whimpered sympathetically. "It's not like I didn't see this coming, but all the same it's . . ." She struggled to find the end to her thought before giving up with a sigh. The young dragon has disappeared from view. "Poor Spike. Even I didn't know how serious he really was."

Derpy Hooves stood just behind Twilight, her hair still held in a ponytail by the black velvet ribbon. Her eyes itched terribly, only becoming worse if she rubbed at them. Her throat had dried up and swelled painfully. She breathed through her nose to avoid antagonizing the sensation and nearly wretched. The oppressive and acrid smell of burning muffins hung thick on the night air. A faint ringing noise like that of an alarm clock began to sound in the far corners of her mind. An impulse burst out from that strange place and caused her hooves to move.

Twilight's expression widened in alarm as she watched Derpy launch into a brisk trot toward the boutique. "Derpy?!" she barely managed to avoid yelling. "What are you doing?! Don't!"

"Rarity!" Derpy barked at a volume that shattered the silence all around her.

The unicorn mare in question looked out from her open doorway with wide eyes and a lifted hoof. Her expression normalized as Derpy came into view. "Oh my. Miss Hooves, was it?" she called out in polite greeting. "I'm terribly sorry, dear, but we're closed. You'll have to-"

"My name is 'Derpy,'" the gray pegasus corrected as she slowed to a halt just a few feet from the entryway. "Why do you keep getting it wrong?"

Rarity sighed. "It's an honorific, Derpy. You put it before someone's name when you're trying to be polite."

Derpy's brow tightened. "Was what you just did to Spike polite too?"

Rarity's mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before her eyes narrowed. "W-were you eavesdropping?"

"I didn't drop anything," said Derpy with a shake of her head. "But I saw what happened." The light from inside the boutique danced in her eyes. "Why did you hurt Spike?"

"Hurt him?" asked Rarity, her voice indignant. She waved a hoof at the distraught pegasus. "Spike is not a child anymore, Derpy. It's better that he knows the truth now. All he needs is some time."

"What about the time he lost already?!" Derpy snapped. A hazy image of books falling from a white tower flashed through her mind. She bit her lip and looked away from Rarity. "He gave you all kinds of presents. He even spent a really long time making himself into a really nice present for you." Her gaze turned back and once again captured the flickering golden light. "You didn't even give him a chance."

Rarity raised an eyebrow and turned her nose up at the pegasus mare. "Not that it's any of your business, but a chance to what? I admit that my own procrastination made this worse than it had to be, Derpy. However, I've known for quite some time now that things between Spike and I simply wouldn't work out in the end."

"You don't know that!" Derpy shouted. "And you never did!"

Rarity recoiled in the doorway. "What are you-"

Tears of frustration welled in Derpy's eyes. "I keep hearing everypony say that they know what's gonna happen. It's so stupid. Even if you could know, who'd want a world where you'd never be wrong?" The lights in her pupils resembled flickering candle flames. "It's just a lot easier to say that what went wrong was gonna happen anyway, isn't it? That way, it's not your fault, and you don't have to do anything about it." Several images whirled about behind her eyes. Derpy frowned deeply. "I didn't want to admit that my life sucked because I made it that way. Cross didn't want to say that the real reason he wasn't going to see the Green Pastures was because he was giving up. Rainbow made fun of Spike's chances because Spike having a chance would have made her a bad friend for not doing anything." Derpy spread her wings out and touched the grass with the tips. "You just don't want to have to explain anything to Fancypants. Spike's not so important when he gets in the way of what you want, is he?"

The pause that came afterward lasted nearly a minute. Ponies leaving work began to file into the streets on their way to their homes or the pubs. A blue magic aura wrapped around the door of the Carousel Boutique. Rarity positively glowered at the pegasus mare on her doorstep. Her words came out in a deep and deliberate tone.

"I think it would be best if we didn't speak to each other for a while, Miss Hooves."

"That's fine by me," Derpy barely managed to get out before the oaken door slammed shut just inches from her face. She blinked as the breeze from its impact tousled her hair. "And quit screwing up my name!" she shouted at the wood. In the relative silence following her outburst, the nervous energy drained from Derpy's body. She trotted back to Twilight's position at a slower pace.

The unicorn's mouth hung agape. Derpy lowered her head in response. "I messed up again, didn't I?"

Twilight Sparkle's expression slowly transitioned into a knowing grin. "That's . . . debatable." She pawed at the dirt. "I mean, don't get me wrong. That was way over the top but . . . well, who knows?" She touched her front-right hoof to one of Derpy's. "Maybe Rarity really needed to hear something like that."

A breeze took hold of Derpy's ponytail and tossed it to the other side of her body. Her head came up swiftly. "Where did Spike go?" she blurted out with an odd degree of urgency.

Twilight retracted her hoof. "What? Why is that-"

"I've gotta find him!" Derpy interrupted, her hooves moving up and down.

Twilight sighed. "I wouldn't push your luck on the whole 'barging in headfirst' thing anymore than you already have, Derpy. We'll be there for Spike, but he probably wants some time to himself right now."

Derpy's face scrunched up in frustration. Her dancing about grew frantic.

Twilight stepped back, suddenly aware of the emotional bomb about to go off right in front of her. "On the other hoof," she added with a nervous cough. "I might know where he is . . ."

In a forest clearing just beyond the eastern border of Ponyville, a tranquil pool of water reflected the moonlight across its verdant surroundings. Enchanting patterns of faint turquoise wound their way across the rustling leaves of the trees and over the smooth faces of granite boulders that bore the scars of blade strikes. Small wooden logs hung from the branches of the trees by thick ropes and drifted lazily about in the gentle wind. The tiny stream that fed the pool gurgled peacefully, its impact on the water's surface casting barely a ripple.

Derpy Hooves took in a deep breath of the crisp air, the mischievous light playing about on her delicate features. "Spike?"

The dragon whose name she'd invoked sat with his back to her on a short cliff overlooking the pool. His dorsal spines shifted visibly at the sound of her voice. "Derpy?" He rubbed at his face with a tired forearm, but did not turn to face her. "How did you find this place?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Derpy moved slowly from the edge of the clearing. "Twilight told me where to go."

Spike shook a bit as he gave a forced laugh. "Secrets are for chumps, I guess." He paused. "Derpy, I really want to be alone right now."

"I'm sorry, Spike," said Derpy as she shuffled through the grass. "I thought I was helping you out, but you got hurt instead."

The dragon's form remained still. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't have known." He sniffed. "It was my decision to make, so don't beat yourself up or anything." He raised his head to look at the trees. "I'll be fine. You should head on back to the library."

For a long moment, the only sound was that of the gently flowing water.

Derpy Hooves reached over Spike's shoulders and draped her forearms across the front of his sullen form. Before the young dragon could react, she sat with her legs on either side of his and pulled him back. His spines folded instinctively as he met with the soft fur of Derpy's chest. The warmth of her body flooded into his own and silenced all protest therein. Her neck and muzzle rested alongside his own. The sound of her breathing filled his right ear. The embrace continued in silence as the two closed their eyes and felt the pulse of each others' rapid heartbeats.

It was Derpy who spoke after more than a minute had passed. "I said that a lot when I was little. I told other ponies that I wanted to be alone, but it was never true."

Spike rested against her wordlessly, neither resisting nor returning her gesture.

"What I really wanted was for somepony to just be with me, you know?" she half-whispered in a low voice. "Somepony who wouldn't laugh or tell me to get over it." She hugged the young dragon a bit tighter. "I wanted somepony to hold me like this and just stay with me, even when I was sad and no fun at all."

The light chirping of crickets sounded from the trees. The stream continued to gurgle in peaceful cadence.

Derpy's eyelids rose just enough to allow her to see. "Is it weird?" she asked in total innocence. "Do you want me to let go?"

A pair of wet teardrops fell against her arms. A clawed hand rose to hold them in place.

"Maybe in a little bit, okay?" Spike whispered, his voice and body shaking with repressed sobs.

Derpy said nothing. She closed her eyes once more and nuzzled the forlorn dragon, determined to stay by his side and—in a small way—happy that he needed her.

[Morning of Day 21]
"Ugh," Twilight groaned, her forehead resting on the edge of the wooden table. "This is killing me."

Derpy Hooves finished sipping down a bowl of goatsmilk and looked up at the librarian with a brand new cream mustache. "You're gonna die?"

Twilight cuffed the giant stack of file folders to her left with an irritated hoof. She brought her head up, sweeping her long mane back in the same motion. "If I have to read through the inventory records of one more hospital, then it's a very distinct possibility."

Derpy smiled and wiped the whiteness from her upper lip. She pushed the large bowl of sliced fruit at the table's center toward Twilight. "Sounds bad. You should just have some apples instead."

Thick clouds obscured the sun outside in preparation for the scheduled rainstorm later that day. The light that filtered through the library's windows cast the interior in various shades of pale blue. Twilight Sparkle and Derpy Hooves sat at the table across from the kitchen where Spike labored away on the morning's repast. Sliced apples and a pitcher of goatsmilk had been laid out to tide the hungry ponies over in the meantime.

Twilight absentmindedly floated an apple to her lips and opened another folder from the stack. "Thanks, Derpy. All this work for the police on top of organizing your training program is getting to me a bit."

Derpy fidgeted nervously. "So, how am I doing on that?"

"Training?" Twilight asked around a mouthful of fruit. "Well, you've put five days in as Spike's apprentice so far." She flipped open a large scroll on her right, scanning the information within. "And he reports that whatever your talent is, it has nothing to do with cleaning."

Derpy's ears drooped. "That bad, huh?"

Twilight swallowed and looked at Derpy over her red-rimmed reading glasses. "Not bad, actually." She tapped a hoof on the parchment. "Spike reports that you're a very hard worker and that you have a penchant for what he calls 'creative problem solving.'" She tipped her glasses down. "Sounds about right to me. Besides, we shouldn't have expected the very first thing we tried to work out." Twilight took a sip from her own milk bowl. "I think you'll like what I've got lined up next, and you'll especially like the pony that you're . . ." She looked up from the bowl to find Derpy observing the contents of one of the file folders. Her eyes darted to the now-lopsided stack on her left and back again to the curious mare. "Derpy!" she exclaimed, lifting the documents from the pegasus mare's hooves with her magic. "I had all of this very neatly organized."

Derpy Hooves shuffled in her seat. "Sorry, Twilight."

The folder opened in midair to allow the unicorn to examine its contents. "Where did you pull this one from?"

Derpy shrugged. "Somewhere in the middle."

Twilight set the folder down in front of her. She'd looked over the pages for only a second or two when her mouth fell open. She stayed like that for some time.

Spike walked up beside Derpy, cleaning flour from his hands on his pink apron. He gave the mare's ponytail a playful toss. "So, you're keeping it?"

Derpy pulled the length of hair and its black velvet ribbon and gave it the same hug that a filly might give a stuffed animal. "Yeah, I think it's pretty. Don't you?"

The young dragon only smiled in response. He nodded toward the flabbergasted unicorn. "What's up with Twilight?"

Derpy looked back toward Twilight's frozen expression and cocked her head. "I think the inventory just killed her."

"Not good," Spike replied lazily before shaking his head and turning back to Derpy. "Wait, what?"

"Dear Sweet Celestia," Twilight exclaimed. "She found it, Spike."

Spike placed a hand on his hip. "Found what?"

Twilight pushed a thumb-sized cylinder of brown glass across the table. "This is the bottle of Ventium that the police found in Room 208. I've been trying to match the inventory number on the label with the records from all the hospitals that received it, but none of the filing systems matched." She took off her glasses and looked at the two across the table with wide eyes. "It's Ponyville Memorial's system. They never received the drug, but the numbering system matches perfectly." Twilight put a hoof to her forehead. "It's such an obvious place to check, the nearest hospital to the scene of the crime. Why didn't I think of this earlier?"

Spike grinned and began to walk back toward the kitchen.

Derpy sheepishly drew a circle on the table with her hoof. "Did I help?"

Twilight tossed the folder on top of the stack and flashed a brilliant smile. "Of course you did, Derpy! Now we're one step closer to finding out how this bottle ended up at the inn!"

"Hooray!" Derpy cheered with a clap of her hooves. "That's good, right?"

"Absolutely," Spike called out from the kitchen. "And I've got just the thing to celebrate." Both ponies at the table looked back to see the young dragon nearing the table with a steaming tray bearing some sort of baked goods. The savory smell of wheat wafted through the air. Spike placed the tray at the edge of the table.

Derpy's mouth fell open. "Is that . . .? Are those . . .?"

"Blueberry bran muffins," said Spike. "I heard from Pinkie Pie that you were really into muffins, so I've been learning how to make them." He took one of the steaming treats from the tray and set it on Derpy's plate. "How do they look?"

Derpy raised a hoof to her mouth and looked at the muffin with uncertain eyes. "They look great, Spike. It's just that . . . well, the last time I had a muffin was pretty awful."

Spike folded his arms. "You're a pro at this, so I'd really like to hear your opinion on these." He glanced to the side. "But really, this is more my way of saying 'thank you' for last night."

Derpy swallowed hard. Would this muffin taste like the one she'd had back at the apartment? Her gaze drifted to the smiling faces of her friends. No, she thought. This is their present to me, and I don't know what it will taste like. Derpy put her hoof down on the table, leaned forward, and bit decisively.

"So, any good?" Spike asked as Derpy began to chew. His voice sounded flippant on the surface, but it carried a strong and dedicated undertone. If it isn't, I'll keep trying until I get it right, it seemed to say.

Derpy gulped down the savory morsel. Her eyes sparkled. A giddy smile exploded on her face. It had tasted wonderful. She really hoped that her unintelligible squeal had gotten that across.

NEXT
Amethyst 2A: "The Ward"

*See Appendix.

Amethyst 2A: The Ward

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[Night of Day 21]
Twilight Sparkle's hooves clicked and clacked on the white linoleum as she entered the waiting area of Ponyville Memorial Hospital's Neurological Treatment Ward. She squinted a bit, her eyes making the transition from the harsh white light of the hospital proper to the warm amber glow of the atrium's ornate chandelier. The plush, expensive rug at the area's center silenced the noise of her hooves. Twilight suppressed a chuckle at the sight before her. "Detective?"

Detective One Liner rested on an ottoman that matched the tan of his tousled mane, trusty fedora at his side. His head dipped low; his eyelids dipped lower. The wait and ottoman's comfortable cushion had taken their toll.

Twilight cleared her throat and repeated in a louder voice, "Detective?"

Liner's head snapped to attention, his blue-eyed gaze meeting hers. "Miss Sparkle." He quickly lifted himself off the cushion and proffered a hoof in greeting. "Thank you for meeting me here at this late hour."

Twilight gave the hoof a polite shake. "It's not a problem." She observed the reception desk at the far end of the room. The nondescript unicorn stallion manning the station seemed to pay no heed to her arrival, or anything else for that matter.

Liner motioned to the ottoman across from his own. "Please, have a seat. The director should be out to meet with us any minute now."

Twilight hopped onto the cushion and folded her legs underneath her body. Not a bit had been spared in decorating this room, and the ottomans were no exception. Twilight pressed her limbs against the velvety softness and gave a little hum of satisfaction. No wonder Liner had dozed off.

An orderly exited one of the two double-doors on either side of the reception desk and made his way to the oaken doors that Twilight had entered through. The lavender-hued mare watched Liner, who had remained standing, stare at the brown plaster walls behind her. She coughed nervously.

"So, why are we here this late? Did you have some work that you needed to finish first?" Twilight raised an eyebrow. "For that matter, why bring me along? I can't imagine that the Sheriff's Department didn't have anypony to spare."

"The director insisted that I come back after dark," Liner responded impassively, "and that I bring a unicorn with me. The P.S.D. doesn't have a unicorn under its employ."

"What about those two officers from the raid on the inn?"

Liner grimaced ever-so-slightly. "They returned to Canterlot the day after. Besides, neither of them were unicorns. The Canterlot P.D. won't field a unicorn agent outside the city without proof of criminal magic usage."

Twilight sighed. "So the C.S.I. team that you called in didn't find anything in Room 208?"

"Nothing outside of trace amounts of sulfur, which could have a lot of potential explanations this close to the frontier."

Twilight shook her head. "I can't believe that you're having to deal with red tape in a case like this."

"Actually," Liner replied with a hooftap on his shining badge. "The special dispensation I received from the princess has given me a lot more leeway than I usually have to work with. She even has the Royal Guard patrolling the countryside around Ponyville to keep the suspect boxed in tight, and if I were to press the issue, I'm sure that I could requisition a unicorn assistant." He bowed his head lightly. "Whose skills would be naturally inferior to your own."

Twilight stared at the floor. "Not that I'm much use when there's an earth pony who can disappear and not leave behind any magic residue."

It was Liner's turn to shake his head reprovingly. "Not so, Miss Sparkle. Intelligence is always an asset. After all, 'the fool's crime is the crime that is found out and the wise one's crime is the crime that is not found out.'" He smiled. "If Three Strike happens to be wise, I'd be in trouble without your assistance."

Twilight's mouth fell open. "The Mare in Mauve?"

Liner shifted his front hooves. "A personal favorite."

"Mine too," Twilight gasped, unfolding one of her front cannons and letting it hang over the ottoman's edge. A winning smile crept over her face. "How about Perry Neighson?"

Liner looked away, his voice reduced to an embarrassed mutter. "Childhood hero."

Twilight's grin grew wider. "I'm impressed, Detective. I never would have figured you for the literary type."

"It's just mystery novels," Liner remarked with a straightening of his coat. "I had a lot of time on my hooves as a kid."

Twilight brought her other foreleg over the edge and leaned closer. "Say, is that why you became a-"

"Detective Liner, Miss Sparkle," a stern voice interrupted.

Both the addressees turned to see a white earth pony mare clad in an equally white lab coat. At first, Twilight didn't recognize who she was looking at, but the pink mane wound tightly in a bun soon gave it away. "Nurse Redheart?" she asked.

The mare in question adjusted a set of black-rimmed glasses on her face and smiled. "Director Redheart now. Thank you both for coming." She sighed. "So, I assume that you're here to ask about the Ventium. Better late than never, I suppose."

"Late?" Liner asked as he turned to dig something out of his coat pockets.

Director Redheart nodded. "We gave notice to the Department of Health four months ago to send a team and clear out our excess inventory after the administrative shakeup." She snorted. "They sent the team straightaway, but left behind five bottles of this useless stuff. Legally, we're not even allowed to throw it away. It's just taking up space."

Liner fished the bottle from Room 208 out of his coat and placed it on a nearby table. "Has it been taking up a little less space lately?"

Redheart bent down and gave the labeling a studious glance. "This is one of ours all right. Hello, Number Six."

Detective Liner frowned. "No patient name and no hospital logo. This is sloppy, even for in-hospital use."

Redheart narrowed her eyes. "Why do you think the previous director is out of a job? I assure you, this isn't the only error resulting from his policies."

"You called it 'Number Six,'" Twilight interjected. "So this isn't part of your inventory?"

The director pulled a record sheet from her coat and laid it on the table. "Ten bottles in the initial shipment. One administered to patient. Five remaining in stock." She gave the table a hooftap. "Four unaccounted for. I reported this and the botched pickup to the Department of Health multiple times. I'm still waiting on a response."

"I'm not surprised," Liner muttered as he scanned the record sheet. "The D.O.H. didn't handle all of Ventium's distribution."

"They didn't?" Redheart responded with a quizzical stare. "The records say otherwise."

Liner looked up from the paper. "Yours do. I been doing some digging ever since Miss Sparkle notified me of her difficulty in tracking down this bottle's point of origin." He turned to Twilight. "Remember how the primary test subjects for Ventium were the criminally insane?"

"Yeah," said Twilight with a nod.

Detective Liner gave the barest hint of a grin. "Your medical journals had it right; the shipping records didn't. The Health Department only handled the distribution for normal patient testing. The distribution to criminal patients was handled by the Department of Corrections, presumably to avoid the controversy that goes with using experimental drugs on those with no right to refuse treatment. They had agents identify themselves as representatives of the D.O.H. on delivery."

"What a mess," Redheart groaned. "So that pickup team didn't even know that the Ventium was theirs to begin with, and the D.O.H. won't admit to any record of it being shipped here." She rolled her eyes. "When did politics become a part of my job description?"

"Back to the question of the four missing bottles," said Liner. "The most obvious answer is theft. Why wasn't this reported to the police?"

Director Redheart gave Liner a moment's stare before picking up the Ventium bottle and tossing it at the entrance to the ward. The glass cylinder bounced off of a sheet of green energy with a loud crackle, sending ripples along the surface of the magic barrier. The stallion at the reception desk looked up from his magazine with a smile. "Sweet," he mouthed before returning his bored gaze downward.

Redheart flashed a cocky grin. "They check in; they don't check out. Every incoming shipment of experimental medicine is enchanted with a repulsion spell. You can't get it past the field without removing the enchantment, and even a unicorn would need a magic device that's kept locked up in my office to do that." She shrugged. "As you just saw, the enchantment wasn't removed. The police know that the field has been in place ever since the ward was constructed; you can't shut it down without turning off the entire building's magic generator, and that hasn't been done in three years. Sheriff Badge couldn't get his mustache to figure out how the bottles escaped, so he had the case dismissed and told us to double-check our records." The corners of Redheart's mouth turned down in a disgusted scowl. "Looking back, he actually had a point."

Liner's expression soured considerably. "Our culprit must have a Cutie Mark in creating 'locked room' mysteries."

Director Redheart raised an eyebrow. "Funny you should mention that." She turned about and began to walk toward the double-doors on the right of the reception desk, the folds of her lab coat billowing behind her. "Follow me, please."

Liner grabbed his hat and motioned to Twilight, who promptly hopped down from the ottoman and trotted alongside the detective. As they passed through the doors and into a long hallway, her ears pricked up. "What about that patient who was taking Ventium? You said that one bottle had been used."

Redheart continued forward, answering Twilight's question as they walked. "We received a massive influx of patients after the Discord Incident a couple of years back. Half the rooms in this place had never even been used before that; suddenly we were overwhelmed. Ponies who'd been discorded, ponies who'd been driven nuts by discorded ponies, we had all sorts of fun patients to deal with after that brouhaha." Her gait slowed. "But none of them had anything on Screw Loose."

"Odd name," Liner remarked.

"It was the staff's idea to call her that," said Redheart. "She was brought in as a complete Jane Doe: nonresponsive to all questions, no form of physical I.D. and no resemblance to any pony reported missing at the time. We actually reported her to the police for a different reason. She was covered in blood, and it wasn't hers."

Twilight blanched. "She . . . she murdered somepony?"

"It sure looked that way," Redheart responded as she began to glance up at the room numbers. "But the violent crimes that resulted from Discord's rampage were actually pretty few in number, and none of them matched the severity of what Screw Loose seemed to have been a part of. She was never officially charged with anything, but the Sheriff's Department had her labeled as Criminally Insane just so that we could keep her under lock and key if she ever became lucid."

"Did she?" asked Twilight with more than a hint of trepidation.

"No," Redheart answered flatly. "She worsened every single day. The doctors initially diagnosed her as a violent schizophrenic with symptoms of severe schizophrasia. They were understating the matter. Screw Loose tossed words around like salad and vacillated between moods the way most ponies change conversation topics. Most of those moods came with her kicking, biting, and generally lashing about. Even after the straightjacket became her clothing of choice, she made a regular habit of writhing about on the floor as if in severe pain."

"What if she was really hurt?" said Twilight.

Redheart stopped for a moment and turned to give Twilight a withering glare. "What kind of facility do you think this is? We examined every square inch of that pony's body for what could be causing that kind of suffering. The only answer that the physicians could come up with was that it had to be psychosomatic—'phantom pains', in other words." She shook her head and continued walking. "There's no way to tell how much of it was real to Screw Loose either. At times, she seemed to be aware of her own symptoms. She even had an unnervingly common habit of picking apart the doctors' analyses before going right back to making animal noises or other such nonsense."

Liner coughed. "Sounds like the name fits, at least."

Director Redheart stopped in front of Room 401 and turned about-face. Any and all levity had departed from her expression. "She didn't get that name from her behavior, Detective. It came from her Cutie Mark; well, one of her Cutie Marks anyhow."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Cutie pox?"

"Nothing that easy," said Redheart, her eyes drifting across the three types of lock on 401's door. "Her mark changed on a near-daily basis. The only commonality between all the ones we documented was the image of a metal screw. Her coat and mane colors shifted back and forth too, though that was more gradual. We tested for changeling blood and had unicorn specialists screen her for every known form of curse." She sighed heavily. "Everything came up negative."

"This sounds crazy, even for an N.T. Ward," Twilight mused with a hoof to her chin. "Did you ever send word of it to Canterlot?"

"We did," Redheart responded. "They sent us the Ventium; we began treatment, and after one week of no measurable improvement . . ." She waved a hoof at Room 401. "Screw Loose disappeared from this very room. The windows were barred, all the locks were in place, and wherever she went she took the straightjacket with her." Redheart gave a wry grin. "We reported it, as always, but the sheriff and her doctors were so glad to be rid of her that nopony made too much of a fuss about it. She hasn't been seen since."

Liner gritted his teeth. "I'm beginning to think that my time would be better spent grilling Brass Badge for everything else he thinks isn't relevant enough to put in the case file."

"One more thing before you go," said Redheart as she fished a keyring out of her lab coat. "I want you two to have a look at this room; Screw Loose did a bit of . . . creative decorating in the week before she disappeared. Good ole 'Brass 'Stache' said he'd get a research team from Canterlot to have a look, but I'm sure you can guess that we're still waiting on that." She slid a long key into the first padlock.

"All right, Director," Liner acknowledged, slipping on his black shades as he did so. "I'll take what's behind door number one."

Redheart paused, turned to give Liner a confused glance, and sighed as she returned to working on the locks.

Detective Liner raised an eyebrow over his shades and looked to Twilight. "Too much?"

Twilight's jaw hung slightly ajar. "What kind of detective stories were you into again?

NEXT
Episode 04: "What You Wish For"

Episode 04: What You Wish For

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NOW

Motes of amber light danced across the ceiling of the Ponyville Library's guest room, cast by the pendant that still sat untouched on the table. Derpy Hooves lay on her back with the covers pulled up to her chest, snoring softly with a happy smile on her face. The gray mare with violet eyes stood on two legs at the bedside. Her giant leather-bound book rested in the chair just behind. Her expression remained completely impassive, even as she brushed a forelock of blond hair off of Derpy's face. She pressed her hoof lightly against the snoring mare's forehead. One corner of her mouth began to rise.

"The partition held for the most part," she whispered. "Minor outbursts notwithstanding."

The gray earth pony mare froze when Derpy's left forearm reached up to her hoof and pulled it down. The still-sleeping pegasus hugged the captured limb to her chest and snuggled it tightly. One second passed, then two. The mystery mare dared to exhale. She smiled a bit at Derpy's reaction, but the moment quickly soured. Her mouth returned to the form of a straight line. Her eyes watered and began to glow faintly.

"Just how much of you is still you, little sister?" With naught but a simple tug, the mare's outstretched forearm passed right through Derpy's, only a brief plume of pale white energy marking its ethereal passage.

Derpy brought her limbs close to her body to make up for the sudden emptiness, but her smile did not fade. The great leather book floated from the chair and settled onto the covers between the two mares. It opened without impetus, its pages giving off just the barest shimmer of white light.

The gray mare pulled her black mane behind her shoulders and sat in the familiar chair that she'd brought over from the desk. Her violet irises flickered as if a pair of candle flames burned just behind them. She drew in a deep breath.

"The reading is from the Lost History," she said as the energy within the book began to wreath itself about Derpy's head. "First Book of Kings, Chapter 18, Verse 17." The tone of her half-whispered voice became terribly somber. "Let us be attentive."

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
"What You Wish For"

To the south and east of Poison Joke Gorge lies an alpine valley nestled betwixt a pair of mountain ranges. The Summer of Snow Glories has draped the depression in a cloth of verdant green, its hills and meadows uninterrupted by trees even up to the foot of the granite guardians encircling them. Small stone roundhouses and tracts of farmland dot the northern end of the valley, growing more numerous as they near the great sandstone building at the base of the tallest mountain. What resides above is wreathed in eternal mist. The flowers and fields below drift lazily in the morning wind that blows from the South Road.

In an unassuming thatch-roofed house overlooking golden fields of wheat, a hero's welcome is soon to begin . . .

Do it, said Derpy Hooves.

Silver Cross stood at the edge of an oaken four-poster bed. He'd already donned his shirt, leather harness, and claymore, but his cloak still hung from the post of a nearby hammock. Feather Quill lay asleep on the reddish-brown cotton duvets in front of him, her gray-furred body rising and falling with every slow breath. Her calm face had been engulfed by her long black mane in slumber. The rose-hued rays of daylight's first hour filtered in through the burlap-covered entryway. The savory aroma of wood smoke drifted from the fire pit and tantalized Cross's nostrils. An early morning chill still hung on the air.

Cross moved one of his partner's feather hair ornaments about in his teeth. You're sure about this, eh?

Positive, Derpy replied from somewhere within the warrior pegasus. She's so stuffy. It's like she's asking for it.

Cross rolled the ornament's bead back and forth with his lower jaw. Somepony stuffy get on your bad side lately?

Derpy couldn't stop the image of a white unicorn mare and her violet mane from flashing through both their minds. No, she lied.

It's a terrible idea in the first place, thought Cross. I'm surprised that a clever fairy like yourself can't figure out why.

Just go for it, Derpy goaded, unsure of what irritated her so much about the sight of the peaceful pony asleep on the bed. Harvest will be back any second.

Cross's partially open mouth turned up at the corners. If the lady insists . . . He rolled the feathered jewelry to the front of his muzzle and leaned forward, tickling the inside of Feather Quill's nose with the improvised tool. The sleeping mare drew in one quick breath, then two. She might have even sneezed if Cross had been able to suppress his sudden chortle. Feather's horn flared brilliantly. Her stylized dagger spun out from under the pillows and dove straight for Cross's throat.

CLANG!

Feather's violet eyes snapped open. She looked first into Cross's crimson irises, then to her blade grinding in midair against the hilt of his claymore, and finally to his foolish grin. "Cross," she began in an uncertain tone. "What are you doing?"

Cross let the hair ornament fall to the floor rug below, his shoulder pushing the sword handle back against the enchanted assailant. "Playing around," he answered simply. "How 'bout you?"

Feather's magic continued pressing on the dagger. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Not playing around."

"Good morning, everypony!" came a cheery voice from the entryway. Golden Harvest emerged from behind the burlap with eyes closed in familiarity, a few dandelions sticking out of her saddlebags. "They're serving breakfast over at the Estate, and you two are more than wel-" She opened her green eyes and stared in slack-jawed silence at the two ponies locking blades over her bed. They both turned to look at her, Feather with an embarrassed blush and Cross with a sly grin. Harvest flashed a nervous smile and broke out in a light sweat. "Y-you two obviously n-need a minute to yourselves. H-how silly of me." She slowly backed out of the door with a forced and awkward laugh.

Cross looked back at Feather, unable to tell if the redness in her face was from shame, anger, or some lopsided mixture of the two. "Well, now that you're awake," he said over the sound of scraping metal. "Care to grab a bite?"

The Estate that Harvest had referred to was a walled-off building at the far north end of the village. Forged out of red sandstone and rising three stories into the air, it dwarfed the humble houses and farms around it. Only the watchtower at the southeastern corner rivaled the prominence of the primary architecture. The refectory, a cross-shaped vaulted chamber meant for communal meals, sat on the eastern side of the main building, its doors open wide to accommodate those in need of morning sustenance. A trio of ponies—two gray following one yellow—passed through the entryway.

I'm sorry about earlier, said Derpy as a series of clicks and clacks signaled their transition from the dirt path to ceramic tile. That didn't turn out like I thought it would.

Cross smiled, causing Feather Quill to throw him a curious glance. I thought it a good bit of fun, he replied, but I do hope you learned something. Just think if you'd been the one to wake Feather instead.

Golden Harvest pranced forward, the sound of talkative banter from around the corner muting the impact of her hooves. She turned about with a flourish in the creamy rays of light cast by the high arched windows. "Well, what do you think?"

Silver Cross's mouth opened to respond, but words failed him at the sight of the mare who rounded the corner from the main dining room just behind Harvest. The white pegasus cantered toward them on delicate hooves as if she weighed nothing at all, barely making a sound even on the stone flooring. A voluminous mane of deepest crimson flowed all about her, partially covering a Cutie Mark of two foreign-looking trees and an orange crescent moon. The matronly curves of her generous figure contrasted sharply with her height; she stood nearly a head taller than Cross himself.

She's- Derpy began.

"Gorgeous," Cross finished.

Harvest smiled broadly. "You mean to say, 'The room is gorgeous.' Right, Mister Cross?" A white-furred hoof came to rest on her shoulder, causing the yellow mare to flinch in surprise. Harvest turned her gaze upward. "My lady?"

The beautiful pegasus mare at Harvest's side gave a warm smile to all present before speaking with the clarity and precise sound of a finely-crafted instrument. "He said unto Abner, the captain of the host, whose son is this youth?" Her emerald eyes focused on Silver Cross. "And Abner said, as thy soul liveth, O king, I cannot tell."

What? was all that Derpy could manage.

Cross's own expression of shock lasted only a moment longer. He stepped forward in confident stride. "'Twas no giant that I slew in the wilderness, fair lady, and 'twas not a stone from a sling that felled he and his band." Cross took hold of the hoof on Harvest's shoulder and kissed it respectfully. "Your ladyship ought to save the Tome's praise for the deserving."

Feather Quill let out a barely audible groan.

The white pegasus mare withdrew her hoof. "Well met, Silver Cross," she intoned with a glance to the yellow earth pony at her side. "And to think that I doubted young Harvest's tale of a warrior-scholar and his mystic companion; after years of immersion in the Grand History, I should have known better." She bowed her head and curtsied. "I am Paradise, headmistress of the Estate and ranking member of the village council." Her wings flared open in grandiose fashion. Golden Harvest ducked reflexively under the spread. Paradise looked each of the two ponies before her in the eyes as she said, "Sir Silver Cross, Lady Feather Quill, welcome to the town of Sunny Stables--a haven for all ponies who wish to live in peace and harmony."

Cross and Feather both bowed briefly in return. The former couldn't have looked more pleased, and even the latter's mouth opened just a bit in awe.

Derpy Hooves felt her own heart flutter a bit in the presence of the majestic authority figure, but she found her attention drawn to the actions of another pony some distance away. Hey, Cross, she attempted to whisper, forgetting that no one else could hear her. Somepony's giving us a funny look.

I'd imagine so, Cross thought dismissively. We are strangers here, after all.

"I do not mean to be forward," said Paradise, "but it has reached my ears that the two of you have journeyed far in search of a place to settle down and start a family."

Harvest's eyes widened. "Wait, that's not-"

Feather Quill shuddered. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

Cross, Derpy prodded. That yellow pony way in the back is staring a hole in us.

Not now, Derpy.

"Oh dear," said Paradise as she looked to Golden Harvest. "Did I read a bit much into it?"

Harvest nodded vigorously.

"I hope you can forgive me, Miss Quill," Paradise implored with an expression of genuine worry. "I have a terrible habit of playing matchmaker even when it is perfectly uncalled for."

"No offense taken," Feather remarked impassively. "You're certainly not the first to get that idea."

Oh crap, Derpy exclaimed. She tried to recoil, but Cross's idle hooves budged not an inch. Um, Cross? She's charging.

Charging what? Cross replied, his attention divided. He flashed his most debonair grin. "Or the last, if Lady Feather continues to cling to me like an unnervingly sarcastic limpet." Cross glanced back at Feather to see a furious scowl. Satisfied, he turned back to a mildly bewildered Paradise. "All misunderstanding aside though, you do have a nugget of the truth there, Lady Paradise. We set out from the Northerlands in search of the Green Pastures, or someplace spiffin' enough to bear the name at the very least."

Paradise sat back on her haunches, a curious delight sparkling in her eyes. "I am familiar with the Tome's promised land. While I would never be presumptuous enough to declare your journey to be at an end, I would say that you are unlikely to find any place on this Earth so close to that ideal as Sunny Stables has become."

Heads up, said Derpy.

"Indeed," said Cross with an emphatic flick of his tail. "From the very moment that I entered this valley I-"

WHAM!

Cross had seen the yellow mare with a blue mane just a second too late. His attempt to sidestep the oncoming bull rush sent them both to the floor in a sprawling heap. The blue-eyed mare with a white blaze on her muzzle came out on top.

"Hi, Mister Cross!" she barked with a heaping helping of enthusiasm. "I'm Bubbles!"

Her face was too close, even for such a compromising position. Pinned to his backside by the uncomfortable prospect of wriggling his way out, Cross leaned his head back and gave Feather Quill an upside-down glare. "And here I thought you had my back, old chum."

"She got you from the front," quipped Feather with a fake yawn. "Besides, I'm not worth much as a lookout when I get woken up on the wrong side of the bed."

Cross looked back to the pony on top of him to find a pair of sultry half-lidded eyes studying his well-built form, a lust-ridden smile leaving no question about the mare's intentions. Struck by a sudden chill, he struggled against Bubbles's surprisingly wiry muscles only to confirm that there was no easy way out of this predicament. He gulped and did his level best to present a nonchalant attitude.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bubbles," Cross ventured in a less-than-composed tone of voice. He gestured down then up with his muzzle. "Would you mind?"

"Oh, I'm more than pleased to make yours," Bubbles responded, her face and body drawing even closer. "And I don't mind at all."

She smells nice, Derpy commented.

"Bubbles!" Harvest exclaimed, her entire face glowing bright red. "Y-you get off of him t-this instant, you s-shameless hussy!"

Bubbles looked back over her shoulder at Harvest and swished her tail from side to side. "I'm shameless? I'm not the one who didn't tell anypony else what a stud she had staying at her house all night long."

Harvest's mouth fell wide open. "Wha?" she babbled as she attempted to get her facial muscles under control. "W-what are you implying?"

Bubbles turned back to Silver Cross, her voice and expression much calmer than a few moments before. "Don't worry, Mister Cross. I know you two weren't up to anything naughty last night."

"Oh good," said Cross as he continued to inch out from under Bubbles with his shoulder blades. "That's good to hear."

"Harvy's too much of a cold fish anyhow," Bubbles elaborated. "She wouldn't know what to do with a good time if it bit her on the rump."

The high-pitched whine of a boiling tea kettle began to emanate from Golden Harvest.

Do ponies explode? Derpy wondered.

Paradise cleared her throat. "Bubbles, would you be a dear and release our poor guest?"

"Yes, ma'am!" the mare in question chirped, bounding off of her prey and hopping to Paradise's side.

Silver Cross bolted upright with a nervous cough. "Well, that's an interesting way to go about introducing oneself."

Paradise stepped forward, her face the very picture of concern. "I do hope that our . . . eccentricities shall not cause you to reject the thought of remaining with us."

"This little trifle?" Cross replied with a confident grin. "'Tis nothing but a regular occurrence in the life of a ladies' stallion such as yours truly."

"Don't let him kid you," Feather remarked as she began to walk toward the dining area. "That's the most action he's gotten in years."

Golden Harvest stood slack-jawed as she watched Feather move past.

Bubbles grinned. "We're gonna have to do something about that."

Paradise cleared her throat loudly. "Why not try a simple chat over breakfast first?" She waved a hoof toward the dining room and smiled with a slight twitch. "Shall we?"

The discussion at breakfast, oft interrupted by heartfelt thanks and praise from passing villagers, had indeed been simple. Paradise had been quick to offer Cross and Feather citizenship and land as a reward for extinguishing the threat of Iron Bound from the countryside, but she would not hear an answer at the table. Instead, she had insisted on the two travelers experiencing the highlights of Sunny Stables while the residents of the Estate prepared a feast in honor of their great deed. Golden Harvest and Bubbles had been excused from their normal duties to serve as guides.

"With Bubbles?" said Harvest, one hoof lifted in confusion. "Surely you can't be serious, Lady Paradise."

"Touring the village 'Harvy-style?'" Bubbles pulled a face. "You do want these two to like this place, right?"

Paradise laughed knowingly. "And you wonder why I'm giving the responsibility to you both?"

One hour later, the group of four ponies ascended a long series of stone staircases set into the contours of the hills and cliffs at the village's northeastern edge.

What did Feather mean about you not getting any action? Derpy commented from the back of Cross's mind. There was plenty of action going on back at that Poison Joke canyon.

A powerful gust of wind whipped Cross's snow-white mane to the other side of his neck. There are many different kinds of action to be had in this world, little fairy. We should have a chat one day about the magic of context.

But I'm not a unicorn, said Derpy.

Cross sighed out loud. That's exactly what I'm talking about.

Bubbles had taken the lead in this guided tour at the outset. She turned about from her position in front and began to walk backwards up the stairs with a smile on her face and no visible increase in effort. "Don't get tired yet, Mister Cross. You've gotta have endurance to keep up with me!" She turned again, nearly swishing Cross in the face with her azure tail. "Besides, isn't the view great from up here?"

Silver Cross coughed nervously and averted his eyes. "Yes, quite."

Derpy turned her gaze out from the stairs to look at the village below. From this height, the dirt paths and cobblestone walls of Sunny Stables caused the fields and meadows below to resemble a green patchwork quilt of grand proportions. It really is a pretty sight, she observed.

Golden Harvest turned her nose up from her position at Cross's side. "Try to keep the entendres to a minimum, Bubbles. These are seasoned warriors and honored guests that you're escorting."

Bubbles giggled heartily as she continued her bouncy ascent. "Sounds like two ponies who could use some fun, especially my kind of fun!"

"Your kind of fun. . ." Harvest muttered. The words left her mouth as if she were spitting out rotten food.

"What sort of 'highlight' are you trying to show us?" Feather questioned with more than an undercurrent of irritation. "I can see the waterfall at the summit, and there were plenty of mills and flumes on the way. I'm guessing that you've got an embankment dam up here to manipulate the water flow, and it wouldn't be the first time that either of us has seen one. Wouldn't the product of this system be of greater interest than the system itself?"

The quartet reached another square landing, and it became immediately apparent that the next set of stairs was indeed the last. Bubbles gave out another cheery laugh as she bounded right along. "You're a silly filly, Miss Feather! Just follow me—we're almost there anyhow!"

Bubbles disappeared from sight over the top step. As Cross and Feather crested the final landing, their eyes met with a spectacle that stole their breath away.

"Oh," said Harvest as she arrived at their side. "I can't believe that I forgot about Bubbles's job." She turned to study the faces of her two charges, her own eyes wide in expectation. "So, what do you think?"

The waterfall that Feather had seen indeed emptied into a reservoir held back by a dam of compacted earth and stone that was a good distance away and still about ten feet above where the ponies now stood. Auxiliary spillways had been cut into the hillsides and funneled the flowing water into basins of varying size and depth, each resting on its own terrace with one or more wooden floodgates controlling the output. A complex series of wooden chutes sat above the spillways and relayed water directly from the reservoir down to the mills and fields below. Though an impressive feat of pony engineering, it was not this system that drew the attention of Cross and Feather.

The basin on the current terrace level possessed a starkly different appearance. Its' shape was that of a perfect rectangle cut into the solid rock, perhaps 80 by 40 feet. A deck of smooth stone and varnished lumber surrounded it and housed several ponies either sunning themselves on straw mats or just relaxing in general. A few even swam about in the astonishingly clear water, their movements indicating frivolous intent rather than anything relating to hygiene. The warm sun shone down on the whole affair from high overhead. The only sources of shade to be found rested with a set of cloth overhangs on wooden posts or what could only have been a thatch-roofed drink bar at the northern edge.

Oh. My. Gosh, Derpy exclaimed. They've got a swimming pool.

Feather struggled to keep her jaw from dropping all the way. She turned slowly to Golden Harvest. "You forgot about this?"

Harvest waved a hoof. "Not the pool, Miss Feather. I just forgot that Bubbles maintains it." She sighed and gave the glittering body of water a wistful look. "Still, it does sort of blend into the background after a while."

Feather looked at Harvest as if the mare had turned into a tomato. "You're kidding."

Both Cross and Feather felt the soft impact of red-and-white flower necklaces descending across their shoulders. Bubbles revealed herself as the adornments' point of origin by swinging around in front of two in a blur of motion.

"Isn't it awesome?" Bubbles exclaimed, her enthusiastic tone leaving no doubt as to her own opinion. "And it's all me too! Well, keeping it pretty, that is." She brought her smiling face uncomfortably close to Cross's. "Are ya impressed?"

"Rather," Cross replied in genuine fascination. He ignored the perky mare's proximity and moved close to the edge, his hooves thumping across the wooden deck and coming to a rest on the russet ceramic coping. He stared intently at the shimmering surface and straight through to the smooth stone at the bottom some five feet below. "How d'you manage this? It's barely even flowing."

Bubbles giggled. "It doesn't have to if you know what you're doing," she said with a sway of her hips that emphasized her Cutie Mark of nine bubbles, five green and four blue. She pranced over to a small three-sided wooden shed at the corner and pointed proudly at the devices arranged within. "Gravity pushes the water through the sand filtration. I can feed the water anything else it needs to stay clean from right here." Her eyes glazed over a bit. "Green-Out Flakes, Rust-B-Gone, Rock Food . . ."

As the list continued, Derpy's gaze wandered to a pair of foals on the far side. One of the two leaned over the edge only to find herself pushed in by her companion, who laughed heartily until he got splashed in return. That looks fun, she mused. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud gasp from Bubbles.

"Buff Powder!" the poolgirl pony proclaimed. Her expression seemed to have been shaped by a head-on collision with a startling epiphany. "I wonder if it needs Buff Powder?" She lowered her head to the water's surface and gave a curious sniff before rocketing back upright with a giddy smile. "It does need Buff Powder!" Bubbles disappeared behind the walls of the shed in a flash. Her excited visage poked back around the wooden panel just long enough to declare, "I love Buff Powder." As she whipped back around the barricade, her voice continued in a slightly muffled echo, "And other buff things."

Feather and Harvest had both walked forward to stand by the water's edge. "We noticed," they deadpanned in the same instant.

Derpy huffed inside Cross's mind. What's Feather's problem? Bubbles is a nice pony.

Silver Cross raised an eyebrow. Terribly so. The eyebrow arched further. Why just Feather?

Derpy took notice of how close Feather Quill was to the edge of the coping. She gasped. I've got the best idea.

A wooden trough that sat between the walls of the shed and the thatch roof tipped forward, dumping a copious amount of white powder into the pool. It cascaded down the shell wall and expanded across the bottom like a reverse mushroom cloud. A few seconds later, the entire pool began to bubble and fizz in the same manner as a shaken carbonated beverage. The foals squealed in excitement and swam toward the curious reaction. Even the adults who'd been caught in the cloudy bubbling tide looked about with momentary wonder.

Bubbles bounced out from behind the shed to admire her handiwork, pure delight writ large on her face. "I love this part!"

"Buff Powder?" asked Feather as she turned about from observing the additive's effects. "That's baking soda, not a sanitizer." Her voice dripped with a curious mixture of haughtiness and disappointment. "What does that even do besides make bubbles?"

Push her in, said Derpy.

Not this again, Cross groaned inwardly. What's got you on this kick, little fairy?

She's being such a know-it-all, Derpy complained. Just dunk her.

"It makes the water buff 'n tough!" Bubbles responded cheerfully with a flex of her muscles. "So buff that even bad stuff falling in does nothin' to it!"

That line is so perfect, Derpy began to plead. You can't not push her now!

Cross rolled his eyes. I'm not playing along this time, Derpy. If you want it done, go do it yourself.

"I remember hearing about this," Harvest chimed in. "The powder keeps the water from making your eyes itchy." She cast the doubtful unicorn mare a sideways glance. "Even simple things like leaves and bird feathers can foul up the chemistry if they just keep falling in."

No way, Derpy thought. She pushed with all her might against Cross's idle legs. You can't let that go; you just can't! It's like lightning striking twice!

The bait's got a hook behind it, Cross admonished. Best to leave it be. He walked forward to join the conversation. "Do feathers get dropped in that often?" he remarked.

Oh, come on! Derpy pushed with manic force.

Cross's right arm shot out at Feather's midsection. The unicorn mare toppled over the edge of the coping. As the next second seemed to extend into infinity, both the pushed and the pusher looked at each other in utter surprise.

"You son of a-" Feather shouted before disappearing beneath the foamy surface in a thunderous splash.

Golden Harvest stared at Cross with wide eyes. Bubbles trotted over to the edge as Feather broke the surface and began to flounder about.

"Why didn't you say you wanted to get wet?" asked Bubbles in an earnest voice. "All you had to do was ask."

"Screw off!" Feather managed before she went back under, her meager swimming skills barely keeping her afloat even in the relatively shallow water.

Harvest burst out laughing.

All right, Cross! Derpy cheered. You wanted to play along after all! Why didn't you just push her to begin with?

Cross joined Harvest with an intensely fake monotone guffaw as he backed away from the sputtering Feather. "Oh yes, it's gosh-darn hilarious until you realize that she's probably going to kill us all when she gets out!"

Harvest's merrymaking stopped abruptly. "Wait, what?"

I didn't do a thing, Cross thought with a strong emphasis. You failed to mention that you could move my limbs without my consent, Derpy. I don't appreciate being misled, and I like being used as a plaything even less.

Derpy's delight at the situation faded instantly. I . . . I didn't know that I could . . .

It was then that another pony walked in on the situation. The violet-furred newcomer bumped Bubbles aside and reached a hoof down to the flailing Feather.

"Galaxy!" Bubbles gasped. "I didn't know you were here today!"

"It's a good thing that I am," the pony named Galaxy replied in a sardonic alto, pulling Feather Quill over the coping by her arms. "Seems that nopony else around here knows any common courtesy."

"Thank you," Feather muttered. She turned her soaking wet face up to get a proper look at her savior and gawked at the orange, red, pink, and white of Galaxy's multicolored mane.

Cross whistled, both glad for the distraction and stunned at this new pony's appearance. He sauntered forward and gave a toss of his mane. Galaxy lifted a hoof in apprehension.

"Begging your pardon, fair lady," Cross implored, his eyes wandering from the blue bow on Galaxy's tail to the long set of eyelashes that blinked over the pony's rose-hued eyes. "If it's courtesy that such a beauty desires," he said as he took the lifted hoof and gave it a light ceremonious kiss. "Let it begin here."

An awkward pause followed. Only the fizzing of the pool water and the shouts of playing foals interrupted the silence.

Harvest tapped Cross's shoulder from behind. "Um, Mister Cross?"

Galaxy turned to Feather with his eyelids at half-mast. "Is your friend blind?"

Feather stared daggers at the confused Silver Cross. "Friend?" she seethed. "Where? I don't see any."

"Mister Cross," Harvest hissed with an aggressive shoulder tap. "Look down."

Cross's ignorant eyes descended to Galaxy's nether regions. They came back up to meet the violet stallion's own angry gaze very quickly. "Oh," he said, his face scrunching up as if he'd suddenly been struck ill.

Feather and Galaxy's angry stares persisted in silence.

"Well," Cross announced as he turned about and began to walk away at an uneven gait. "I'll be donating my breakfast to one of those bushes over yonder for the next couple of minutes. Everypony keep calm and carry on."

Galaxy's horn glowed with a faint orange light, the aura it produced adjusting knobs on a brass telescope at his side. "Almost there," he muttered.

By the time that Silver Cross had returned to the group, the tour through Sunny Stables had suffered a second hijacking. The four--now, five--participants sat at a short wooden table placed underneath a freestanding cloth awning near the edge of the pool deck. Bubbles sipped at a flagon of curious blue liquid that she'd obtained from the drink bar, her senses fully absorbed by the flavorful experience. Feather stared in rapt attention at Galaxy's activities, and as for Harvest . . .

Cross turned to look at the yellow earth pony mare just in time to see a quick blur of auburn. Harvest's gaze was locked on Galaxy and his telescope, but movement of her mane indicated that she'd just turned her head. Cross raised an eyebrow. Had she been looking at him?

Cross? asked Derpy. I'm really sorry about before.

"No offense, Mister Galaxy," said Feather, "But did you really call us over so that we could watch you stargaze? In broad daylight, no less?"

"Not stargazing," corrected Galaxy, his right eye firmly ensconced in the device's eyepiece. "Weather prediction. I'm checking on tomorrow's rainfall chances." A black knob higher up on the cylinder twisted in a magic aura. "Just a few more moments, Miss Feather. These windows in the clouds wait for nopony."

Cross? Can you hear me?

Silver Cross tilted his head to the side. "You really expect us to believe that you can bally well predict the rain 'fore there's even a dark cloud in the sky?"

Galaxy sighed and snapped the eyepiece shut. "I hadn't figured you for a backwater rube, Silver Cross." He posed in a manner that emphasized his Cutie Mark, a constellation of red stars. "As it is above, so it is below. In all of your journeys, you expect me to believe that you've never heard of astrology?"

"We have," Feather interjected. "Though it's always fallen into the 'believe it when we see it actually work for somepony' category."

Cross?

Galaxy stood up on his two hind legs, stretching a forearm out toward the valley below. "Then see, proud warriors," he intoned with a confident smile. "And believe."

"Oh boy," said Bubbles, her expression halfway between amusement and dismay. "Now you've got him all excited."

Galaxy pointed a bold hoof to the eastern edge of the valley, which sported a pine forest and several quarries cut into the ground. "Resources!" he exclaimed. "Both lumber and mineral." He swiveled about, his hoof now pointing to the crop fields betwixt cobblestone walls along the western side of Sunny Stables. "Agriculture with a diverse and bountiful yield." He pointed again at the mills along the river south of their present position. "The means of production for a wide variety of goods." His arm turned to the Estate and the houses that encircled it. "Culture, and a strong community." He extended both hooves upwards. "All of it is made possible by the magic of understanding. The past, present, and future are in the Grand History, the people, and the signs of the stars above." Galaxy turned his hoof to Cross and Feather, his mane billowing dramatically in a sudden gust of wind. "Sunny Stables should leave not a doubt in your minds as to the quality of its people and practices. After all, by their fruits, you shall know them." He smiled. "Isn't that what you believe?"

Bubbles leaned toward Feather and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Gal-Gal's kinda insecure about how pretty he is. When he tries to act all manly like this,you should just nod and-" Her mouth stopped suddenly, its muscles frozen by an orange magic aura.

"Gal-Gal?" Galaxy growled, his horn aglow. "Whose stupid mouth came up with that nickname?" His angry gaze turned to Bubbles. The aura he projected began stretching the mare's cheeks back and forth. "Was it this one? Was it this stupid mouth?"

"Galaxy~" Bubbles whined, helpless before the unicorn stallion's magic. "Cut it out~ That huuurts~"

"Should I be counting Iron Bound among those fruits?" Feather questioned, ignoring Bubbles's plight. "If he was such a problem for this town, why were we left to deal with him? Doesn't Sunny Stables have a militia?"

Galaxy's expression calmed somewhat. "I'm sorry to report that we do not." He relinquished his hold on Bubbles's cheeks. "Consider it a casualty of a century's dedication to pacifism. We've no shortage of young able-bodied stallions, but not a single warrior capable of training them resides among us."

"And thus the red carpet," Cross quipped.

Galaxy raised an eyebrow. "Now that's the sort of thinking I expected from the mind of a swordfighter." He crossed his arms. "Paradise might believe that goose-stepping around the issue of your skillsets is prudent, but I beg to differ." He smiled ruefully. "Gratitude is temporary, after all. I doubt that you'd trust anything less than a genuine desire for your abilities."

Cross! Derpy shouted. I said that I'm sorry! Why won't you answer me?

"I appreciate the honesty," Feather sighed, "but it's not your intentions that have me curious." She leaned forward. "What is this 'Grand History' that I keep hearing about? Is it like our Tome, some sort of sacred book?"

Cross!

Galaxy's smile grew wider. "Much more than that, Miss Quill. You see . . ."

Seeing that the conversation had drifted away from his interests for the moment, Silver Cross leaned back against one of the wooden posts and closed his eyes. You can stop yelling, Derpy. Whatever hearing I've got betwixt my ears remains intact.

Then why didn't you answer me before? Derpy meekly inquired.

You haven't said anything worth responding to.

Derpy paused. You mean that you're not mad at me?

Of course I am, Cross replied. You've had nothing but disrespect for my best friend all morning and you took control of my body for the sole purpose of trying to humiliate her. How would you feel if I'd done the same?

But I said that I'm sorry! Derpy pleaded.

You did say that, Cross confirmed, but that's not how you feel.

What?

Cross shifted against the post. You do not believe your actions to have been wrong, Miss Hooves. You're simply afraid that you've angered me.

What's the difference? Derpy asked in frustration. I'm sorry either way!

Not so, Cross corrected sternly, and I won't accept an apology from any creature too scared or stupid to know the difference between regret and fear.

Derpy's temper flared. I am not stupid! she exclaimed.

Is that so? Cross raised an eyelid to observe Feather and Galaxy still conversing intently. Then you have the capacity to learn, Miss Hooves. Stop treating your time with me like a game that you can't lose. Observe yourself and others with care. Do that, and you're sure to understand. When you understand, you'll no longer be too afraid to see what you've done wrong here.

THUNK!

Cross's eyes snapped open at the sound of Bubbles's forehead hitting the table.

"Ugh," Bubbles groaned. "You two are so boring. When are we gonna actually do something?"

"Mister Cross?" asked Golden Harvest.

Cross turned to find the mare standing on his left. When had she gotten there?

Harvest's hooves shuffled a bit as she spoke with a nervous smile. "I was wondering: if you don't have any interest in what they're talking about, do you want to go swimming instead?"

Bubbles's head snapped up from the table, her right eyebrow raised. "With you?"

"Yes," Harvest answered, her green eyes not leaving Cross's gaze.

Bubbles cocked her head to the side. "But you hate swimming."

This time, Harvest looked around Cross to give Bubbles an angry stare. "I do not!"

Bubbles's eyes darted from the pool to Harvest. "You do when there's other ponies in the pool."

Golden Harvest blushed. "Well, I was bound to get comfortable with the idea sooner or later." She turned back to give Cross a sheepish grin. "So, do you want to?"

All eyes were on Silver Cross. Despite her intense frustration, Derpy felt Cross's surprise at the circumstance give way to the same warm feeling that had encompassed her at the end of their first adventure. It was impossible to ignore, and Derpy's confusion over her rejected apology began to fade in its presence.

Cross smiled at Harvest. "Last one in is a filthy parasprite." He whirled to his hooves with a flare of his wings and bolted into the water, pulling a stylish backflip as he did so.

It's so easy for him to set aside bad feelings, Derpy thought to herself. Flashes of her lashing out at Rarity entered her mind. She shivered inwardly. Why can't I do that? Is it really because I'm scared? As a happy Golden Harvest splashed into the water beside her with an excited whoop, Derpy swallowed her bewilderment and decided not to say another word until she knew precisely what to say. Besides, the cool water felt amazing after spending such a long time in the sun.

"Ah, the joys of simpletons," Galaxy sighed. "Well, Miss Quill. Perhaps you'd enjoy a more detailed look at-"

"Uh-oh," Bubbles interrupted. "Looks like I'm gonna be the last one in." She gave a sultry look to Galaxy and swished her tail about on the deck. "That means I'm filthy. Wanna help clean me up?"

Feather stood up from the table with a jolt. "Why yes, Sir Galaxy. I'd be delighted to take a look at . . . whatever it is you're talking about. It's got nothing to do with Bubbles, right?"

Galaxy ignored the salacious request from his fellow resident and rose to walk alongside Feather. "Not one thing, as far as I know. Shall we?"

Bubbles stuck out her lower lip at the two retreating ponies. "Party poopers."

In a drainage basin several feet below Bubbles, a dead sparrow floated toward the overflow line, its carcass bloated and eyes bleached white by the powerful chemicals. Nopony in the swimming pool realized that it had died there just hours earlier. Nopony observed it now as it disappeared into darkness.

Silver Cross spent the rest of the day in the company of Bubbles and Golden Harvest, though the poolgirl pony was eventually forced to leave their side and apply her expertise to a complaint of mold in the baths at the Estate. Though they feigned disappointment, both Cross and Harvest were glad to be separated from the source of constant innuendo. The pair got along famously as they cut a slow and meandering path on their way back to the Estate at dusk.

Derpy Hooves, for her part, used the time to think of an apology that Cross would accept. However, her mind strayed constantly from the task at hoof. Even when she managed to set aside the stimuli from Cross's experiences, Derpy ended up fighting a losing battle between frustration at her failure to be mindful of her actions and fear of not being able to regain her companion's friendship. After a time of drifting between these depressing avenues of thought, it occurred to Derpy that this sensation was terribly familiar.

This feels like when I lost my job, she realized. Like I can't do anything right. Derpy's proximity to that miserable state caused her sense of panic to escalate. How did I do this to myself again? I thought I was changing. She wanted to cry, but she had no tear ducts to call her own. She wanted to call out to Cross for help, but the contrast between her depression and his happiness couldn't have been any sharper. I can't ruin this for him, she thought. He'll just hate me more.

Just as Paradise had promised, a tremendous feast awaited Cross and Feather upon their return to the Estate. Nearly the entire village of some 200 ponies turned out for the festivities, and the cooks and kitchens of the Estate were ready for them. Twelve varieties of salad containing all manner of freshly cut greens moved about the wooden tables of the refectory like ships on the open sea. Savory harvest loaves and slices of sweet spicebread disappeared into the gullets of hungry ponies almost faster than the servers could fill the baskets. Cheese wedges adorned the spread in red, yellow and white, each of them studded with all manner of nuts, herbs, and apple bits. Pitchers of cold beverage drifted back and forth in a veritable rainbow of unicorn auras. Milk, tea and juice floated right past flagons of ale, wine and cider, nopony caring quite enough to see that a few of the stronger drinks made their way into younger hooves.

Feather did her level best to shrink away from the merrymaking and simply focus on having a nice dinner with Galaxy, who she'd apparently become good pals with in their time exploring the Estate's massive library. Cross, on the other hoof, could barely be restrained from crowd-surfing as he reveled wholeheartedly in the gratitude of the masses. Many of those attending even offered to personally help him start a homestead if he should choose to stay. Some of the ponies were so generous and warm-hearted that even the normally glib Cross found himself at a loss for words.

Derpy's mood improved considerably once Cross began to wolf down the various assortments of tantalizing food, and she became doubly thankful when she noticed that Cross was deliberately avoiding the alcoholic beverages. Was it for her sake? She doubted that, but it made her feel relieved all the same. When she had a chance to take a mental step back from the party, Derpy felt terribly glad for Cross. After all that he'd gone through, he seemed to have finally earned his just reward.

This is how ponies should act when you do great things for them, Derpy thought. Not like what Rarity did to poor Spike. She looked over at Feather Quill to see the gray unicorn mare impassively sipping at a bowl of mint tea before wiping her chin with an enchanted napkin. Stuffy sourpuss, Derpy huffed. Even at a party in the middle of paradise you won't crack a smile.

A new thought stopped Derpy's rising temper dead in its tracks. This party's for Feather too, she realized, because Feather helped Cross get rid of those slavers. A cold chill enveloped her ethereal senses. Feather did something great. She deserves this just as much, right? An epiphany washed over her mind like a salty oral rinse. Why am I getting angry over a little thing like her attitude? That question made Derpy feel small and petty. All the wonderful food and drink in the Estate did nothing to erase that sudden and terrible sensation of emptiness.

She deserves to be here more than I do.

After a few hours of joyous celebration, the party at last began to die down. Ponies with full stomachs, inebriated senses, or both began to file out of the refectory one by one. Eventually, only about 50 of the original participants remained on the cushions and couches arranged all about in the flickering torchlights that adorned the dining hall.

"Everypony quiet down now," an elderly stallion eventually announced in a calm and clear tone. "We'll soon begin the Nightly Reading. Find a place and settle in if you wish to stay."

Golden Harvest had lost Silver Cross in the crowd earlier on, but had pulled up a cushion to sit beside him as soon as the number of ponies began to dwindle. She'd been inching closer with every passing minute, but she now found her efforts foiled by a curious fluffy bundle that snuggled in between her and Cross.

"Miss Harvest, Mister Cross," squeaked the white earth pony filly with a royal blue mane. "Can I sit with you?"

Harvest's momentary disappointment melted into a warm smile. "Of course you can, Sleepy Pie," she said with a reassuring nuzzle. "You don't mind, do you Mister Cross?"

Cross grinned. "The more the merrier, little one." His voice brimmed with confidence, but Derpy could tell by the shifting of his back hooves that Cross wasn't quite used to the presence of children. Even so, all four of them were soon distracted by the activities of Paradise at the far end of the tables.

The regal pegasus mare opened a large leather book on the wooden surface and spoke in a strong yet gentle voice. "I bid you good evening, proud ponies of Sunny Stables and honored guests." The pages in the book glowed with a faint white light and began to turn on their own. The torches in the room dimmed as trails of faint energy began to spill outward from the volume and wreath about the entire chamber.

Silver Cross looked to Harvest as a coil of smoke-like light trailed past him. "What is this?"

"Don't worry," Harvest whispered. "This is how it always goes. Trust me, you'll love it."

Paradise smiled warmly at those gathered before her. "I believe it fitting on this night of celebration that we look back to the origins of our fine community, for it was not so very long ago that such a feast would have been stolen from under our hooves before we had a chance to partake of our efforts. Join me, dear friends, as I pull back the curtain so that we might peer into the mists of time."

The white energy that had enveloped the room suddenly caused all light and detail to drop out of sight. In the perfect darkness that resulted, the only two sources of light came from the book itself, and a strangely identical glow in the eyes of Lady Paradise. "The reading is from the Grand History," she proclaimed in a tone of utter reverence. "First Book of Kings, Chapter 10, Verse 24. Let us be attentive."

From this point onward, Paradise's voice began to echo through the minds of all present, her mouth not moving in the slightest.

10:24 For a time in the Era of Chaos, the land of Southsward fell under the scourge of a great warlord. "Bring me the treasures of all the world," was his command, and his vast army raped and pillaged with total abandon.
10:25 A certain Black Stallion rose through the ranks, his ways more cruel and brutal than his master's, his mind desiring not a single treasure. "Who is this monster in the shape of a pony?" even those who served under him began to ask. "How can he have no Heart and yet walk the earth?"

As the story unfolded, an orange light like that of a roaring flame overtook the darkened chamber. The shadows of a great pony army moved across the stone walls, ransacking villages and killing innocents just as the Grand History proclaimed. In this way, history itself began to play out all around the awestruck listeners.

10:26 The warlord's reign seemed invincible in the eyes of his victims, but a great horde rose in the west and marched upon the land. Evil bred from evil, too numerous and insatiable for any one pony to command, they broke upon the warlord's army as a merciless storm.
10:27 Thousands upon thousands were slain in the great battle, and even the warlord himself fell by the sword. At the head of the surviving Hundred, with the treasures of his master his for the taking, the Black Stallion looked out over the land of Death and said, "Come, my brothers. Leave this place with me, and we shall find for ourselves the way of Life."

Derpy Hooves felt smaller than she ever had in the presence of a story so grand in scope and dark in nature. Was this the shape of the world beyond Ponyville, beyond Equestria? If not, had it been at one time long ago? Her mind reeled at the possibility. She'd become so engrossed in the tale that she nearly yelped in surprise when Feather Quill quietly pressed herself against Cross's left side in the darkness. The two ponies' faces were so close that the barest whisper became perfectly audible. Golden Harvest and Sleepy Pie remained oblivious to Feather's presence.

"Hello there, chum," said Cross, his gaze not wandering, his mouth barely moving. "Galaxy still with you?"

"He left," Feather responded in monotone. "Said something about having heard it all one too many times."

10:28 And the Hundred journeyed north, far from the borders of Southsward and deep into mountains and valleys untouched by war. It was there that they came upon the place called Sunny Stables, and a people besieged by a host of villainy.
10:29 "Let us take what remains of these farmers and their town," the Hundred said. "Let us kill them so that we may live a bit longer." The Black Stallion answered them, "Stay your hooves, foolish ones, lest we walk the path of the dead."

"So," Cross began. "What's your take? Can they be trusted?"

This surprised Derpy. Hadn't Cross been enjoying his time here?

"For once, I want to say 'yes,'" Feather replied. "None of the usual flags came up. If they're hiding something, then they're experts at hiding the fact that they're hiding something."

Feather's manner of speaking struck Derpy with deja vu. Hadn't a conversation like this happened before?

10:30 Then he spoke with the farmers of the valley. "We shall do what you cannot. We shall kill your enemies and free you from the grip of endless fear. In return, do for us what we cannot. Make a place for us to rest our heads, and free us from the curse of our barbarity."
10:31 And so it was that they reached an accord. From that day forward, Sunny Stables flourished, and its enemies wept bitterly. Those who stood against the Hundred were cut down. Those who fled were hunted, their fate sealed by the honest word of those who'd once been their prey.

Cross smiled. "If there's somepony that can train a town of 200 to pull the wool over your eyes, I'd like to shake his hoof." He nudged his companion. "Is this the Green Pastures or isn't it? I'll trust your judgement, Feather. I always have."

Feather sighed. "It doesn't match the Tome's description, not by a long shot. Even so . . ." She paused before returning Cross's nudge. "The land is rich, and there are good ponies here. If you're asking what I'd choose between a dusty fairy tale and Sunny Stables . . ." Her eyes looked into Cross's with an intense earnestness in the flickering light. "I'd choose this wonderful place in a heartbeat, old friend." With that, Feather pulled away to a comfortable distance.

It's another act,Derpy realized. Just as Feather had played the part of an unfeeling traitor to free Cross from captivity, she'd donned the role of a disinterested and jaded traveling companion to draw out any deception in the friendliness of Sunny Stables. In the room of dancing lights and shadows, Derpy Hooves came to an understanding. Cross? she said. I think I know what went wrong.

10:32 When a year had passed and the killing was done, those of the Hundred who'd survived returned to the promised land. There, in a place of plenty that they had fought and died to protect, the barbarians from the south were welcomed as conquerors and heroes.
10:33 "Do you see now?" the Black Stallion said to his loyal followers. "We had but to turn from the path of Death to win for ourselves the treasure of Life that the dead can never know." The Hundred answered him, "Evil is evil's reward. The good belongs to the good."

I'm listening, thought Cross.

Just a little while ago, Derpy began. A friend of mine named Spike worked really hard for months on end just to make this mare called Rarity happy. He really put everything he had into becoming the perfect stallion for her, but it was all for nothing. She just said 'no,' and that was the end of it. Spike was sad, and that didn't seem to bother her at all. Derpy fought with her temper to keep an even tone. I got so frustrated when that happened. I even yelled at her, but I couldn't do anything to make it right.

10:34 It was in this way that the heartless Black Stallion and his heartless followers found their Hearts in the town of Sunny Stables. Turning aside the blood-drenched blades of the past, they took up the tools of farmers and lived amongst their newfound family, their hooves firmly set upon the path of everlasting Life.

Then I came here again, Derpy continued, and even though you went through so much to find a nice place to live, Feather didn't seem to care at all. I mean, this place is as awesome as can be and she wouldn't even smile. She just stared at everything and complained. I thought she was acting just like Rarity, and I got mad all over again. I was so frustrated that I didn't think twice about using you to upset her, Cross. Derpy paused as the shadows on the walls began to fade into darkness. I was a big dummy though. Feather's your friend, and she really does like this place after all. I wasn't even mad at Feather; I was just frustrated because I wanted her to be happy too.

At the end of the reading, the normal torchlight of the room flickered back into view. The white energy from the book dissipated, and Paradise's eyes returned to normal. "Over time," she said, "the lineage of those warriors has faded, and we are once again beset on all sides with no real means of protection." She looked directly and Cross and Feather with a warm smile. "I believe that the arrival of these two heroes is no coincidence. If Silver Cross and Feather Quill should choose to leave behind the way of the wanderer and remain with us, let us welcome them in the same manner as our ancestors once did." She nodded sagely. "May the two of you find your true hearts in this land of plenty."

I'm so sorry, Cross, thought Derpy. Even though I want to be a good friend, I just keep messing up. I promise I'll try harder from now on. Can you forgive me?

As a round of approving applause coursed through the tile floor of the refectory, Cross smiled. Apology accepted, Derpy, though I fear I may have been a bit harsh with you. You were never in danger of losing a friend.

But I-

You weren't acting like yourself, Cross interrupted. I just wanted you to stop and think for a while. You can relax now, little fairy. Thoughtlessness is thoughtlessness, but it doesn't ruin anything if you put a stop to it. You have, and that's that.

If words were to attempt to describe Derpy's sense of utter relief at that response, they would fail miserably.

Even so, said Cross. You shouldn't get so worked up about what happened to your friend.

Huh?

Everypony's on a journey to the place where they can truly smile, thought Cross. Mister Spike and Miss Rarity simply aren't on the same road. As long as Spike doesn't give up on his journey, he's sure to meet a companion who'll joyfully walk by his side.

Derpy couldn't think of a proper response, but even considering the question made her feel a bit better about the whole ordeal.

Sensing this, Cross added, Besides, I think you misunderstand the way things are between Feather and I.

She's your best friend, right?

She is, thought Cross as his mouth creased into a frown, but her attitude has merit. You see, even though I've journeyed far and wide to find a place where we can both be happy . . . The pause was long and felt quite unnatural. I'm the one who stole Feather's smile from her in the first place.

A soft snore and a snuggling warmth at his side brought Cross back from his internal conversation.

"Oh dear," said Golden Harvest, looking at Sleepy Pie. "Well, now you know where she gets her name."

As Golden Harvest eventually explained, Paradise's primary job was to care for and educate the orphan foals of Sunny Stables. For that purpose, the Estate doubled as the town's orphanage, though its positively beautiful architecture and loving caretaker flew in the face of the title's depressing implications.

Quiet reigned in the Estate's dormitory. Moonlight filtered in through the narrow windows of the long chamber and cast slants of pale blueish-white across the clean well-made beds. Silver Cross used a hoof and a wing to guide the slumbering form of the filly named Sleepy Pie from his back to the soft mattress.

"Thank you so much for the help, Mister Cross," Golden Harvest whispered. "She just seems to get heavier every time. They grow so fast at that age." She moved forward to tuck the snoring filly in.

"It's my pleasure," Cross whispered back. "Though I wish you'd stop with the 'mister' business. Makes a chap feel older than dirt to have pretty young mares calling him 'mister.'"

Harvest pulled a soft cotton sheet up to Sleepy Pie's shoulders. "I didn't mean anything by it." A smile crept across her face as she watched the cover rise and fall with Sleepy Pie's every breath. "Do you really think that, or is it just another turn of phrase?"

Cross tilted his head to the side. "Think what now?"

Harvest looked at Cross with a completely open and questioning gaze. "That I'm pretty."

Cross grinned. "I seem to recall saying that you were downright beautiful when we first met. Opinions don't get any more genuine than what comes out of a poor bloke on the slave line."

"It's hard to tell with you," Harvest whispered as she rounded the foot of the bed to stand in front of the pegasus stallion. "How much of the way you act is . . . well, an act?"

Cross stared directly into her emerald eyes. "None of it when I'm in the company of ponies I care about."

Harvest blushed and fidgeted with her front hooves. "I hope that you enjoyed yourself today,Mist-" She winced. "I mean, Silver Cross. I probably wasn't the best tour guide."

Derpy sensed a curious intent rising in her shared mind. Um, Cross?

Cross didn't miss a beat. "Don't be silly, Harvest. A day with a new friend beats getting hauled around by a hired guide any day of the week."

Harvest's nervous smile faded just a bit. "Right, a new friend."

I knew it, Cross thought.

Derpy suddenly caught an unguarded glimpse of Cross's feelings. Whoa! she exclaimed. Wait a minute! I'm still here!

Cross used a gray-feathered wingtip to bring Harvest's gaze back to him. "Is that not enough for you?"

Harvest's delicate face flared with redness. "I . . . I don't . . . I mean-"

Cross's eyelids fell halfway. "Me neither." He leaned in.

Cross! Derpy yelled. I don't wanna kiss a girl! Cut it out!!

Harvest yelped and pulled away, a hoof over her lips in shock, her eyes wide with fear. Sleepy Pie shifted under the covers at the noise, but her snores continued uninterrupted. Cross, careful not to increase Harvest's sense of alarm, slowly resumed his normal stance, his smile locked in place.

Whew, Derpy sighed, her heart pounding right along with Cross's. Close one.

"I'm sorry," Harvest said from behind her raised hoof, her voice filled with undisguised fear. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to . . ."

"It's nothing you should apologize for, Miss Harvest," Cross reassured. "I was too forward. "

"'Miss?'" Harvest gasped, lowering her hoof. "No, I didn't mean it that way. I mean, I'd love to--really! It's just . . . I have this thing about . . . you know . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Cross bowed gracefully. "Far be it from me to push you into anything you're not comfortable with, Miss Harvest. It seems as if I'm taking advantage of simple gratitude." He shook his head slowly. "'Twas not my intent; I hope you'll forgive me."

Water began to well in Harvest's emerald eyes.

"Good night, dear Harvest," said Cross. " I'll see you on the 'morrow."

Cross turned toward the torchlight beyond the open doorway and managed only a few steps before a rush of air at his side gave him pause. Both he and Derpy felt a soft pair of lips press against his cheek. He turned to see Harvest's newly resolute face just inches from his own.

"Bubbles is right," she whispered. "I'm not good at things like this, but . . . I like you, Cross. I am grateful, but what I'm feeling right now is . . . different." The lights from the hallway danced in the moistness of her eyes. "You're different. I hate to ask anything of you, but . . . can you be patient with me?"

Cross answered by leaning forward and kissing the soft yellow fur of Harvest's right cheek. He pulled back to see what was quite possibly the brightest smile he'd ever witnessed.

"See you tomorrow," Harvest squeaked. She hesitated for a moment before walking off down the hallway. Cross fought back a chuckle. He could tell by the mare's gait that it was all she could do to prevent herself from skipping down the upstairs corridor.

Warn me before you do that next time, Derpy huffed. I'll try to go hide in a corner or something.

Cross smiled broadly. I'm terribly sorry, Derpy, but I'm sure you understand. A stallion has to answer when opportunity knocks.

Cross was trying to play it cool, but Derpy could feel the giddy elation behind his words. You really do like her, don't you?

A strong cough sounded from behind. Both Cross an Derpy turned about to find a bemused Feather Quill.

"Well," she said with an eyebrow arched high. "Glad to see that somepony's already making himself at home." She motioned with her head, causing her hair ornaments to clack together. "I told Paradise that we'd be staying for now. She's had a couple of guest quarters prepared on the third floor." Her impassive stare became razor-sharp. "Should I make sure that you've got a double?"

Cross flashed a deliberately foolish grin. "Not just yet. Good looking out though." He attempted to walk past his partner but found his hooves blocked by one of Feather's own.

"Cross," she said, her voice more serious than it had been just moments before. "I've still got my doubts, but either way, thanks for all those years of not letting me give up. For the first time I feel like . . . Like it all might have been worth it."

Cross exchanged his false and dopey visage for a genuine replacement. "Think nothing of it, dear friend. 'Twas for my benefit as well."

She didn't smile, thought Derpy as Feather turned to walk upstairs.

Cross stood in place. Sorry?

She was grateful, Derpy elaborated, and she sounded honest, but she still wouldn't smile. What's wrong with her? One possible answer suddenly jumped back into Derpy's mind. Did you really steal her smile? How? She felt a sickening sensation from Cross's body in response to the question.

I'd rather not discuss it in detail, Cross replied. It was a very long time ago, and it seems it will take a long time yet to make things right.

The rising contradiction became so apparent that even Derpy could no longer ignore it. How in the world are you two friends in the first place?

That's simple, thought Cross as he began to ascend the sandstone steps. I may have hurt Feather, but I've never lied to her. We trust each other, Derpy. When I said that I'd find the Green Pastures for her, she believed in me. I've done my best to live up to that trust every day since.

It looks like you kept your promise, Derpy replied, though she suddenly found it hard to focus on the sound of Cross's thoughts.

Cross smiled broadly. With a little help from a certain fairy, that is.

Derpy yawned as a warm and familiar darkness overtook her senses. Think nothing of it, Mister Cross.

The next thing that Derpy Hooves felt was the biting prick of a spearpoint prodding her thigh. Her eyes snapped open only to be greeted by darkness. She attempted to thrash about, but her limbs would not obey. A few moments later, it dawned on Derpy that her limbs were not yet her own.

Cross! she shouted. Cross, are you there?

Derpy, Cross responded. She felt him wince. I'd been hoping that you returned home.

What's going on? Why can't we see anything?

They surprised us before we left the bedchambers this morning, Cross replied. We're outnumbered.

"Gentlemen, please," a confident male voice exclaimed from not too far away. "I don't see why those blindfolds are necessary. Remove them at once."

With the departure of the offending black cloth, Cross's eyes met with the gray ocean of clouds above. He brought his gaze down to see the entire population of Sunny Stables crowded into the walled-in yard of the Estate, each of them wearing nearly identical expressions of worry and dread. There were many among them who had not been at the feast last night. These ponies wore matching sets of burnished bronze armor and the stolid gazes of career soldiers. Their spearpoints reached high into the air over the crowd; Cross counted at least fifty within the walls. He turned to his right to see Feather Quill blinking after having her blindfold removed, apparently none the worse for wear. For the moment, all of the spears had been turned away from the two of them.

Whatever happens, Cross thought, don't panic.

Derpy, on the verge of that very behavior, sought out a bit of relief. Because everything's going to be all right?

No, Cross answered with dead seriousness. Because that's only going to make what's coming worse.

"Sir Silver Cross, Lady Feather Quill," sounded the same baritone voice that had asked for the removal of the blindfolds. "I feel that I owe the two of you an apology."

Cross's gaze found the source of the voice to be a unicorn stallion sitting in an ornate wooden chair with a red cushion that had been placed just outside the entrance to the Estate. His close-cropped mane and well-brushed coat bore the same shade of deepest black. All that he wore had been made to match his dominant color; everything from his finely-crafted leather armor to his long billowing cloak blended in with his physical from so perfectly that Cross had difficulty telling where the clothing ended and the stallion began. He wore no jewelry, but the gold trim of his cloak and the intricate silver designs winding their way across his armor indicated that this was a pony of no small stature.

The black stallion smiled warmly. "This was not how I intended to welcome you to our fine community."

Cross found it difficult to look the stallion directly in the eyes. The irises were as gray as the sky above, bearing not a hint of actual color. "You seem to have us at a disadvantage," he stated in calm and careful fashion. "Mister . . ."

"Deeds," the stallion replied, his thick-bearded chin resting upon a booted hoof. "I am Fell Deeds, Lord and Master of Sunny Stables."

Feather Quill gave a light bow. "We were not aware."

"Of course you weren't," said Deeds. "I'm sorry to say that the two of you have become lawbreakers by means of a terrible fraud."

Derpy Hooves used her 360-degree vision to scan about for familiar faces. She only found Paradise just a few ponies to the right of Fell Deeds, her head lowered and her face full of terror. To see the once smiling visage of regal beauty in this state caused Derpy's heart to sink further than anything else she'd seen thus far.

"Lawbreakers?" Cross inquired.

Lord Deeds pointed a hoof at the two travelers. "Those weapons of yours, have you seen the like carried by anypony in this valley with the exception of my soldiers?"

Feather brought her gaze up to meet that of Fell Deeds. "We were told that this land follows the ideal of pacifism."

Deeds's smile grew wider. "Not quite." He cleared his throat loudly and closed his eyes. "Dearest subjects," he bellowed. "I shall start and you shall finish."

There was an audible shuffling of hooves, but nopony in the crowd dared speak out of turn.

"In our Sovereign Contract there is the Law Regarding Armaments," said Deeds. "It says therein that within the borders of Sunny Stables . . ." He paused, awaiting the passage's completion.

When it became clear that Deeds had finished, the crowd chanted the rest in perfect unison. "Nopony shall bear arms with the exception of the Hundred under pain of death."

"You see?" said Deeds, opening his eyes once more. "They know the law. Why do you suppose that they wouldn't bother to inform the two of you?"

What's he going on about? Derpy wondered. Are we in trouble? Why didn't anypony tell us that this place had a . . . a king or whatever?

I don't yet know, thought Cross, but I think his question was rhetorical.

Fell Deeds sighed heavily. "They want you and Miss Feather to kill me, Mister Cross. These ponies hoped that my guards would attack you for breaking the law and that the ensuing conflict would escalate to the point where neither of the two of us could rightly leave the other alive." Seeing his statement met with only a pair of quizzical stares, Deeds gave a light chuckle. "I know what you're thinking. These townsponies outnumber my stallions more than three to one. If they wanted a revolution, why not simply grab the torches and pitchforks and be done with it? Am I right?"

Cross raised an eyebrow. "'Twould seem the simplest course of action, if that is indeed what they want." He looked about at the ponies who met his gaze with naught but pleading eyes. "I suppose that there's something stopping them from doing that."

Fell Deeds leaned forward in his chair. "In the most literal sense, Mister Cross. Here, let me show you." The Lord of Sunny Stables stepped down from his seat and raised his head high. The horn at its peak shone with a deep violet aura and the mists that covered the mountaintops above the town began to part. Slowly but surely, the shape of another tall building on the mountainside high above became visible through the fog, this one more than thrice the height of the Estate. It was a tower in the shape of a perfect obelisk, the edges of its form so sharp and color so impossibly black that it appeared as if the mountain itself had been impaled upon it.

Feather's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. "That's impossible," she gasped. "We're too far from Equitopia. That can't be here."

Cross's brow furrowed at the familiar and most unpleasant sight. "There's no mistaking it, Feather. Sure as I live and breathe, that's an Arcane Spire."

When Derpy looked to the tower, she only saw the ominous structure for the briefest of moments before a sudden and terrible pain overtook her, not unlike the sensation of being stabbed with a blade of ice. She shut her eyes reflexively and cried out within Cross's mind.

Derpy? Cross asked as a strange brownish-yellow whirlwind left the top the tower.

It's the wrong color, Derpy gasped, her mind's eye darting between a myriad of distorted images. A white tower of the same design, endless grassy fields, and books falling from a sky of swirling rainbows appeared and disappeared within her shared consciousness like cresting waves on a turbulent sea.

Cross struggled to keep his own perspective straight as the strange cyclone drew closer. You've seen one of these before?

It's supposed to be white, Derpy answered, though her tone suggested that she was talking to herself.

Where? asked Cross. Have you been to Equitopia?

Derpy wanted to know the answer to that question as well, but her attempt to recall only made the pain stronger. I . . . I don't remember.

The whirlwind from the top of the Arcane Spire flew overhead and came to rest above Fell Deeds. It spun slower and slower, revealing itself as a magically suspended storm of yellowed parchments and falling into a neat pattern of concentric circles. When the array of papers came to a halt, they formed a series of odd halos two feet above the head of the smiling black unicorn. He was alone in his mirth—the townsponies greeted the sight of the parchments with wide-eyed dread.

"These are the Sovereign Contracts," Fell Deeds began to explain. "One for every pony in Sunny Stables, each bearing the sum of our laws and each bound to the life of the pony who signed it." He swept aside his cloak to expose his Cutie Mark, a paper much like those over his head stained with a crimson splotch at its center. "My specialty, if you couldn't guess." Deeds let the gold-trimmed cloak fall and strode to the middle of the clearing in the crowd. The Contracts followed above his head in their perfect circles.

Cross looked about. "They fear these things?"

Deeds raised an eyebrow. "Not so much as the one who enforces them. If everypony abides by the laws on the Contract, then they are nothing more than silly pieces of paper. However, once those laws are broken . . ." The parchments began to glow with a faint red aura. The crimson light reflected clearly in Deeds's colorless eyes. "They become something more."

The perilous comment hung on the still air for a moment before the Lord of Sunny Stables cleared his throat and continued. "Now, these ponies still have some hope left for conflict between you and I, Sir Cross. It is my duty to enforce the laws of the Sovereign Contract, and in all the long years of my gracious rule I've dealt punishment to lawbreakers with neither mercy nor consideration." He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, clearly meant for show. "However, while ignorance of the law is no excuse for lawlessness, a pair of offenders who've been purposely kept in the dark are a different story altogether." Deeds made a sweeping gesture with a front hoof toward the two ponies before him. "Silver Cross, Feather Quill, I hereby pardon the two of you of any behavior not in accordance with our laws. Provided that you follow them from here on out, you are welcome guests within the land of Sunny Stables."

Derpy could not make sense of the images dredged up by the sight of the Arcane Spire without incurring the same biting pain as before. She pushed the offending mess to the back of her mind just in time to experience a curious sensation from Cross. He watched Feather—who'd been staring at the Spire and Contracts in silent horror—bow her head and utter the appropriate response in an unsteady voice.

"W-we thank you for y-your understanding, Lord Deeds."

She sounds like she's about to cry, thought Derpy. Why? Isn't everything okay now?

Cross stared with cold unblinking eyes at the smiling ruler. We're not the only lawbreakers. He glanced momentarily at Feather's still-shaken expression. The Green Pastures are about to disappear.

Deeds nodded in satisfaction before turning to the crowd. "Now, as for my beloved subjects," he declared in a loud trumpeting voice so that all could hear. "In our Sovereign Contract there is the Law Regarding the Unsigned. It states that non-citizens are to be . . . what?"

A few seconds passed before the gathering of ponies responded. "Informed of the laws in that govern Sunny Stables at the first viable opportunity."

Fell Deeds touched a booted hoof to his chestplate. "I'm hurt, dear friends. You know the law that holds this community together by heart and yet you break it so heedlessly." He stretched the hoof out to the crowd. "For what? For the slim chance that a stranger could be tricked into attacking a ruler you begrudge for carrying out his duties?" Deeds shook his head dramatically. "How terrible. I truly thought better of the ponies who wrought this wonderful town from what just two centuries ago was naught but an untamed wilderness." His smile faded at last. "What's worse is that this crime is also punishable only by death." Deeds stood up on his hind legs and threw his arms open wide. "What would you have me do? Should I put this town full of criminals to the sword as the law commands?"

The townsponies drew back a step from Lord Deeds, uncertain whether or not he desired a response but certain that their ruler was becoming more dangerous by the second.

Fell Deeds dropped back to a casual four-legged stance. "Of course not," he assuaged, his voice practically dripping with undue reassurance. "The law exists for the people. I could never allow it to destroy the community that it protects." He let a bit of relief sweep through all present before continuing with an arched eyebrow. "But the letter of the law must be kept, and the guilty must be punished. One law was broken. Therefore . . . one life shall be taken from you."

"Cross!" Feather whispered urgently, her eyes still locked on the Spire. "This whole village has been press-ganged into an Experiment. We can't let this happen."

"Agreed," Silver Cross whispered back. "He'll target Harvest. She's the most directly responsible. Help me find her."

Feather gave the barest of nods.

You too, little fairy, thought Cross. We've a stand to make.

Derpy resumed her earlier search with renewed vigor. Cross, he's not really gonna hurt Harvest, is he? She laughed nervously. Why would he do that? I'm sure that they're sorry.

Cross's eyes scanned the faces around him at dizzying speed. Derpy, if you'd like to keep believing that we're not staring evil dead in the face then I suggest you focus on helping me stop this.

Fell Deeds failed to notice the activities of the two travelers, largely due to the fact that he was engaged in the same behavior. "All of you are equally at fault. How am I to determine the one who will receive judgement?" He ceased his casting about and closed his eyes. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way. If all are at fault, then all should be punished, even if the sentence is carried out on one individual." Deed's horn began to glow with its dark violet aura, and the contracts above his head rotated in response, their myriad circles resembling a crude roulette wheel. "Which pony would you hate to see judged the most?"

The crowd gasped in unison.

One corner of Deeds's mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward. "Let's have the Contracts show us the answer. They see with eyes better than my own."

Feather's roving gaze came to rest on the spinning Contracts. "I don't think he's going for Harvest."

Cross's eyes continued to dart back and forth. "Watch the guards. They'll have to grab whoever he picks."

The Contracts stopped spinning, and a single parchment floated down from the circles. Fell Deeds read the name signed at the bottom. His expression lost all character. His voice sounded in monotone. "So be it."

Feather's horn crackled unexpectedly. Her eyes went wide. "Cross, those contracts are—"

The aura around Deeds's horn flared brilliantly. The Contract before him erupted into a sudden gout of violet flame before vanishing altogether. All eyes were on the Lord and Master of Sunny Stables.

Derpy Hooves felt the icy chill of dread. What did he do?

There was no ceremony in what happened next. The fluffy filly named Sleepy Pie stumbled forward from the edge of the crowd. Cross watched in stupefied horror as her wide tearful eyes gave him one last pleading look before glazing over. Her small body toppled forward into the grass, never to rise again. A nightcap-wearing teddy bear, her stuffed defender against bad dreams in the dark of night, lay at the hooves of the dumbstruck townsponies where it had fallen from her back. In the stunned silence that followed, a light drizzle began to fall from the sunless sky.

This isn't happening, Derpy whispered. Oh Celestia, this isn't happening . . .

Fell Deeds, for his part, looked equally disturbed. "Paradise," he said in a calm voice. "I believe she's one of yours. You may approach."

Lady Paradise, tears streaming down her despair-ridden face, walked forward in a slow and stilted gait. She splayed her wings and collapsed at the side of Sleepy Pie's fallen form, cradling the sad bundle against her cheek and heaving with quiet sobs.

"I endeavor to maintain this society," Fell Deeds announced in a slow and careful fashion. "A society in which only the hooves of myself and my Hundred must be stained with blood." He gestured toward the crying Paradise and the body that had just moments ago been an awestruck little filly. "When you imagine that a better society by rebelling against those who dirty their hooves for your sake, I want you all to remember this." His expression had become hard and cold. "This filly's blood is on all of yours."

Feather Quill turned slowly to Silver Cross. "Those contracts are soul-bound. H-he could kill them all with a thought." Her fear-stricken face held no pretension. "W-we have to go. There's nothing we can do now. This . . ." She swallowed hard. "This isn't the place we were looking for."

Cross turned to look at her as well. He was smiling.

Derpy felt it approach from below. She looked into Cross's mind and saw plainly the dreaded presence that she'd only gotten a glimpse of before. Its disgusting form defied all description. It was a writhing contradiction, at once a seething hatred, a repulsive glee, and an all-consuming despair. It clawed desperately at the border of their shared consciousness, sensing that its time was near. It was all Derpy could do to keep herself away from the festering mass. Fear and sadness washed over everything within her and strangled even the tiniest cry for help.

By the look on her face, it seemed as if Feather were seeing the very same thing. "Cross?" She shook her head very slowly. "Cross, no."

Silver Cross's bitter smile stayed locked in place. "I'm sorry, Feather," his mouth said quietly. "You know what to do." With that, he stepped forward to face the Lord of Sunny Stables.

"Well," said Deeds as he turned back to the two travelers, "now that we've got that unpleasant business out of the way, I'll be needing the both of you to hand over your weapons on a temporary basis at the very least. Otherwise--"

Fell Deeds stopped and stared, interrupted by the sound of sliding metal. Cross had drawn his claymore. Deeds coughed and offered a winning smile. "Of course, you're free to hold on to the scabbard, but . . . " He arched an eyebrow. "That's not what you have in mind, is it?"

Silver Cross planted the blade point-first in the lawn and wordlessly undid the clasp on his cloak.

Deeds's colorless eyes scanned the crowd. "You're really going to follow through with their half-baked desire? Even though they deceived you?"

"They never had to," Cross replied as he shrugged off the cumbersome cloak. "All they had to say was that they had a child murderer on their hooves."

"I see," said Deeds, his tone one of admiration. "He motioned to the crowd with a single hoof. "Leave him be, my Hundred. Let nopony interfere."

The armored soldiers backed away from the center and stood at ease.

Fell Deeds simply stood in place, drawing no weapon of his own even as his opponent assumed a ready stance. "I won't tell you that this is foolishness," he said, "and I cannot say that you're wrong."

"Good," Cross answered curtly. "Saves us an argument."

"However," said Deeds with a tilt of his head. "I will say that your idea of 'justice' is but one of many, just like my own." He made a great show of stretching his arms and neck. "In this world, power stands at the top of every ideological food chain. The strong, therefore, determine what is righteous." Deeds shook his head with a whicker. "Let us see then whose justice is correct. You may even benefit from the help of Lady Feather, if you like." He sneered. "But do not imagine that your adherence to the Tome of the Forefathers will aid you. There is no power in the law but for the everlasting victory of its enforcers."

Cross, thought Derpy even as she continued to reel from the horrid shape hammering away at the walls of their common mind. Stop it, okay? Y-you can't make this better. You can't . . . She shuddered. You can't help Sleepy Pie.

You're right about that, little fairy, Cross replied. He glanced at the ghastly form of the unnervingly black Spire high above. But I've just journeyed for over a decade only to come full circle. This was never a fight that I could run from. He stretched out his left wing in a manner that caused three pinion feathers to stand out from the rest. He did not look back to see if the distraught Feather noticed the signal. If there's even one tiny chance that I can salvage Feather's smile from this godforsaken place . . . The creature at the edge of Cross's mind recoiled a bit. I'll take it.

High above the town, a ray of sunlight parted the clouds. Silver Cross smiled, pulled his claymore from the earth and launched himself skyward with a mighty flap of his powerful wings. Up and up he went, his aim for the bright sliver of sunshine proving straight and true.

Derpy felt dizzy as Sunny Stables grew smaller and smaller below; she'd never flown this high without hitting something. How are you gonna do this? she tried to shout, forgetting that the wind couldn't muffle her voice. He's got magic--you don't.

Not a problem, Cross shot back as he entered the beam of light. Unicorns distract just as easily as any other pony.

You mean he can't look right at the sun?

There's that, thought Cross as he hung in the air for a moment, his blade poised for the dive. But there's also the fact that Feather's making her horn glow down there. The way Deeds talks, I'd bet any money that he and his crew got wind of us from Fink. He knows how I fight. A powerful gust of wind nearly pulled Cross out of position, but he righted himself quickly. Even if that rotten bastard sees me coming, he'll think that the first 'me' he sees is a fake.

With one last beat of his wings, Cross rocketed downward, swordpoint first. He gave a few more flaps to put on speed before folding his wings in and letting gravity do the rest. The wind whipped fiercely around the living projectile. The patchwork fields below grew in size at an alarming rate. Fell Deeds came into view, ballooning from a black pinprick to a full stallion in the breadth of a second. He saw Cross coming, but looked away into the crowd in the next instant.

Got you, thought Cross. The gleaming sword dove for its target with the force of a meteor strike. Both it and Silver Cross froze just three inches from the black unicorn's face.

Fell Deeds turned to look at his assailant slowly, his horn aglow and face expressionless. Feather Quill put a stop to the glow of her own horn, her mouth wide open in shock. A dark violet aura held Cross firmly in midair--he couldn't even move a muscle.

Deeds's eyes looked like those of a dead thing. "Got you."

CRACK!

An unseen force split the blade of the claymore from tip to hilt. A magic fireball spawned at its center for no more than an instant before exploding with terrible force. Cross's sword shattered into pea-sized fragments. The detonation hit Cross like a battering ram, throwing him several feet back into the air. He landed on the far end of the clearing in a crumpled heap.

Derpy had felt Cross's body fold like paper against the initial impact. Now, even though the unfortunate pegasus's mind had gone silent, she felt gashes open up all over his body with a brutal series of burning stings. The pains caused by Deeds's magic were more than Derpy had imagined possible. Even as they hit her one after another, she still cried out to her friend.

Cross!

No answer.

Cross! Can you hear me?!

Again, no answer. Furthermore, her senses were beginning to dull. This time, Derpy was sure of it--she was about to leave.

Cross, answer me please! Please don't die!

The pain of Silver Cross's broken body faded, and Derpy's ability to form cohesive thoughts soon faded with it. Even as darkness began to close in, she heard the voices of those who stood over Cross's fallen form.

"Where's Feather Quill? I told you to keep an eye on his unicorn."

"Sorry, sir. She blinked out right when you blew up this fellow's sword. Probably teleported."

"You idiot. Light the anti-magic barrier."

"Sir?"

"She's an illusionist, not a damned Sorceress. It's just a fancy invisibility spell, and she can't outrun the barrier."

"That still leaves us with a lot of area to cover, sir."

"Not to worry. She'll come to us--I'm counting on it."

"What about this guy?"

There was a pause.

"Throw him in the Spire."

Tears streamed down the sides of Derpy's upturned face in the amber light, making wet spots on the pillow beneath. Her body shook with sobs, but her eyes remained shut, her mind imprisoned in the pain of a happy dream that had turned into a nightmare.

The gray earth pony mare with violet eyes stared down at her, one hoof resting on the closed leather book. "There was a time," she whispered, "when I would have given anything to keep a smile on your face." Her impassive face tightened perceptively. "It seems the only thing I truly have a talent for is making you cry."

The room's amber light brightened to full illumination for a moment before fading back to motes on the ceiling. The mystery mare cast a curious glance at the pendant on the bedside table. A barely noticeable smile appeared on her face. "Whatever the case may be, this is working," she said as she sidled toward the curious object. "You've passed the threshold." She picked up the necklace by its silver chain and gazed at the dancing lights within. "Pearl?"

Another necklace, identical to the one she held but for a creamy white jewel at its center shimmered into existence around her delicate neck. "READY," it said in a quiet feminine monotone, the word appearing as letters of white light in midair just above the jewel's domed surface.

The mystery mare looked pensively at the object dangling from her raised hoof and took a deep breath. "Access Amber's basic functions array."

"WORKING," the pearl pendant said and displayed at the same time. A few quiet seconds passed. "ACCESS GRANTED."

"Change the default mode to Bonding State."

Three small slots opened up on the back of the amber pendant, a tiny wisp of golden light escaping from each.

"COMPLETE."

"Set activation parameters to 'Auto-Guard' and 'Manual.'"

"COMPLETE."

The gray earth pony mare leaned forward onto the bed and set the amber pendant on Derpy's heaving chest. She pushed down lightly, and the pendant disappeared into the body of the crying pegasus mare as it would into the surface of a pond. The mystery mare nodded her approval. "Reset the partition to match the new settings."

Derpy's tears suddenly ceased. Her breathing became slow and normal.

"COMPLETE."

The earth pony placed a hoof on Derpy's forehead. "I don't need you carrying around something like what happened to Cross right now. Bonding State makes the partition stronger, it should hold better this time." She glanced to the side. "Pearl, retrieve Icon."

The leather volume dissolved into a cloud of white energy that quickly disappeared into the gem of the same color. The mystery mare began to dissipate in much the same fashion.

"I'll fix this, little sister," she whispered. "That much I can promise."

NEXT
Amethyst 2B: "Room 401"

Amethyst 2B: Room 401

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The interior of Room 401 was a barren cube of white walls and linoleum flooring. It had not a single defining feature save for one barred window of textured glass.

One Liner looked about the empty chamber with a skeptical glare. "Creative decorating? Am I missing something, Director?"

Director Redheart fished a thick black cylinder out of her coat and set it on the linoleum. "Twilight, I believe you know how to light one of these."

"A blackflame candle?" Twilight asked with a tilt of her head. "Sure, but that would only reveal . . ." Her voice trailed off as the realization dawned on her. She looked at Redheart with wide eyes.

The director shut the door, drowning the room in total darkness. "Go ahead."

Twilight Sparkle gulped and did as she'd been instructed, summoning forth her magic and its pinkish aura. A flame of deepest violet flickered to life on the candle's wick. One second later, the walls of the room erupted in swatches of neon blue.

One Liner let out a loud whistle.

Twilight stared at the myriad strokes and symbols that now coated the walls in open-mouthed horror. "Is that . . . Was this all . . ."

"Blood," answered Director Redheart. "Screw Loose left us a room painted red the night she disappeared. It was cleaned after the investigation, of course, but we'd have to repaint the walls to get out the stains that blackflame can see." She gave the chamber's other two occupants a sideways glance. "Do I need to remind you that she was wearing a straightjacket in a bare room with no sharp objects?"

Twilight swallowed audibly. "What if she bit her tongue?"

"Seems unlikely," Liner responded. "Look down."

Twilight did just that. "It's clean."

Liner began to pace about. "Just imagine trying to keep a mouthful of water from dripping while sticking out your tongue. All you'd do is make a mess." He sighed. "One scenario after another of earth ponies doing things that earth ponies can't . . ." Liner noticed Twilight move closer to one of the walls. "Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight looked up and down at the rows of symbols before her. "I know this," she said quietly before turning about and repeating herself in a louder voice. "I know this!"

Redheart squinted. "Know what?"

Twilight tapped a hoof to the wall. "This is Ancient Equestrian."

"Ancient?" asked Liner. "As in the way Princess Luna talks?"

"No, that's just an old dialect," Twilight corrected as she returned her attention to the symbols. "This is the earliest known form of written language in Equestria—it hasn't been seen outside of historical documents in over two millennia." Her voice had taken on the tone of an enraptured scholar as she continued to examine the markings. "Director, do you have something I could copy this down with?"

Redheart nodded. "I'll go get my clipboard."

Liner scratched at his stubble as the director left the dimly-lit room. "What sort of pony would write in a dead language?"

Twilight turned back to the wall. "To the best of my knowledge, only three or four of Equestria's top linguists can write in Ancient Equestrian. It's not as hard to read it, though. There's at least ten scholars I know of who could manage that."

"Can you read it?"

"That depends." Twilight walked over to the left wall and stared hard at a large section that seemed to be little more than random smudges. "Normally I'd just need to get a copy home to the library and dust off my old reference books, but the exordium is missing."

Liner raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

Twilight sighed. "Ancient Equestrian is written in characters, not letters. It stems from a logographic system of writing that was developed as a means of communication between disparate pony tribes, primarily for trading purposes. The image-based characters were easier to understand for ponies who spoke different native tongues, but that lead to the use of thousands of unique characters instead of a simple alphabet of 26 letters." She tapped a hoof to the smudges. "Because it was such a pain to remember and write out all these characters, every piece of writing had an introductory portion called the 'exordium.' It contained all of the nouns referenced in the rest of the piece so that they didn't have to be written over and over again." She shook her head. "I'm sure it made things quicker back in the olden days, but it also means that if you don't have the exordium, the rest of the text just reads as gibberish." She giggled a bit. "This language died out for a reason, you know?"

Twilight's mild chuckle stopped abruptly. She looked down at the floor.

"Miss Sparkle?" asked Liner.

"Sorry, it's just that I—" Twilight sniffed heavily and gave Liner an uncertain smile. "I'm looking at blood-covered walls in a psych ward so that we can track down a criminal who wants to hurt my friend, but the minute I see something that piques my interest I just start rambling on like a zoned-out university professor." She averted her eyes. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Not at all," answered Liner. "The ability to bypass one's emotions and focus on the task at hoof is an advantage in any line of work. Besides, what you call 'rambling' has impressed upon me just how unusual the appearance of this language really is. I think I'm starting to put some of the pieces together."

Liner's mild praise seemed to clear the doubt away from Twilight's expression. "Really?"

"Let's start with a question of quantity," Liner said as he began to pace about. "Putting aside the fact that an earth pony seems to be waving around feats of magic that would flummox even Princess Celestia's brightest student, which is more likely, that one pony has this capability, or two?"

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "One, of course."

"Screw Loose disappears from a locked room after one week of treatment with the experimental anti-psychotic Ventium," Liner continued. "About one-and-a-half years later, a pony calling herself Three Strike disappears from a locked hotel room and leaves behind an empty bottle of the same drug. At some point between these two events, several bottles of Ventium disappear from the inside of a magic barrier in the hospital where Screw Loose was kept." He stopped and dusted off his fedora. "I believe that we're dealing with one pony here, not two. The color-shifting that Director Redheart described could easily explain any differences in appearance." He tucked the hat underneath his arm again and narrowed his eyes. "If Three Strike hadn't been wearing that uniform, we might have seen the unchanging screw of Screw Loose's Cutie Mark." He scratched at the stubble on his chin once more. "If I'm right, then that was deliberate on her part."

"Whoa, hold on a second," Twilight interrupted. "Three Strike may have had some anger issues when she came by the library but she seemed pretty composed otherwise. How could the Screw Loose that Director Redheart told us about manage that kind of self-control, especially over the year-and-a-half since she escaped?"

"Good question," said Liner. "I think that's where Ventium fits into the equation."

"The failed anti-psychotic?"

One Liner shook his head. "No drug makes it through to the testing phase without some expectation of success. Ventium was made to work."

Twilight sat back on her haunches. "Okay, then why would it only work on one pony? Isn't that kind of a stretch with only one event to base it on?"

"Not one event—four events."

Twilight cocked her head to the side. "Huh?"

Both of Liner's eyebrows went up. "I thought you'd pick up on that one, Miss Sparkle. Tell me, why is there no such thing as a Teleport Potion?"

Twilight's mind automatically reached back to the appropriate magic text in her memory. "Teleportation is one of the most mentally strenuous forms of magic, to the point that unicorns without a matching Cutie Mark are incapable of teleporting anything other than inanimate objects. A high degree of active control is needed to move every molecule of a living creature from one place to another in the same arrangement and with the same starting inertia. Even a small mistake could . . ."

"Exactly," said Liner. "Neither invisibility nor incorporeality could explain these disappearances, so this pony is teleporting by some method. Do you think that Screw Loose could be capable of such a feat in her original mental state?"

Twilight blinked hard and let out a loud groan. "Oh, this is so confusing! How would she be doing this anyway? An earth pony can't cast magic! Even if she had help, there still would have been magic residue!"

Liner walked over and placed a sure hoof on her shoulder. "Calm down, Miss Sparkle. Did you notice that I haven't mentioned anything about Ancient Equestrian yet?" Seeing Twilight look up at him with open questioning eyes, Liner coughed and lowered his hoof. "I was simply introducing the quandary that I had no answer for before your lecture. Now it seems fairly clear to me that there is one unsavory hypothesis that fits all the facts gathered thus far."

A grave silence hung on the air for a few moments afterward. Twilight felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Something about Liner's ominous tone and the ethereal image of a room swirling with dark violet light and neon blue symbols unsettled her deeply.

"Consider the following," said Liner. "One, Screw Loose has made use of abilities that resemble the effects of magic but conform to none of the limitations that we know to bind magic."

Twilight nodded.

"Two, Screw Loose appears to be fluent in Ancient Equestrian, a dead language that has served no functional purpose in over 2000 years."

Twilight nodded once more, though she felt a chill run through her body. Some part of her knew exactly where Liner was going with this.

"Three," said Liner, his face more serious than Twilight had thought possible. "Screw Loose was brought in to the Ponyville Memorial Neurological Treatment Ward mere days after Discord, a tyrant from ancient history, turned the country upside-down with magic that seemed to have no limitations whatsoever."

Twilight's expression transitioned from alarm to skepticism in the breadth of a few seconds. "You think that Discord is behind this? You think that he . . . I don't know, empowered Screw Loose? That he gave her the ability to write Ancient Equestrian?"

Liner gave a grim smile. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Can you think of another line of reasoning that connects all the available facts?"

Twilight's mouth opened as if to respond, but she halted the motion and shook her head slowly.

"Well, it still leaves a lot of unanswered questions," said Liner. "Why would Discord bother with such an indirect strategy when he appeared to be victorious? Why just one pony and not all the ones he discorded? Could such a transfer of power and information have been accidental?" He sighed. "And let's not forget the most important question: what would a pony empowered by Discord want with your friend Derpy Hooves? The theory fits, but it's full of holes."

Twilight smiled softly in the dim light. "Even so, that's a pretty amazing theory to come up with in such a short time."

Liner looked taken aback by the compliment. "That's kind of you to say, Miss Sparkle, but everypony has their special talent." He pulled back the folds of his trenchcoat to reveal the Cutie Mark emblazoned on his brown-furred flank, a single vertical line of deepest black. "The surest line from question to answer is the one that requires the least deviation. Finding that one straight line among infinite possibilities is my particular gift."

"Really?" said an older feminine voice. "That's why you're called One Liner?"

Both ponies in the room turned to see Director Redheart standing in the open doorway.

"Yes," Liner replied. "Why would you think my name meant something else?"

Redheart shrugged and put on a disarming smile. "No reason. Here you go, Twilight." She pulled a paper-laden clipboard and quill pen from the folds of her lab coat and released it to the unicorn's magic. "Sorry that took so long. I ran into a minor emergency on the way. So, have you two managed to make any sense of all this?"

"Quite a bit actually," said Liner as he straightened his coat, "but nothing conclusive just yet. I hope you don't mind if the information stays with my team for the time being—this isn't the kind of thing we want spreading around until we have all the facts."

"Fine by me," quipped Director Redheart. "I wasn't exactly burning with curiosity in the first place. I just thought this might help with your case somehow."

Liner gave a courteous bow. "And it has. Thank you, Director." He began to rummage through in the pockets of his trenchcoat. "I'd also like to have my forensics expert give the room one last examination, just in case."

Redheart shrugged once more. "Not a problem. This whole section hasn't been used in months. It'll be waiting for you."

One Liner found the object of his search: a notebook overflowing with multicolored documentation. He flipped it open on the floor. "Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight looked up from the floating clipboard and turned back to the detective.

"I'm terribly sorry about this," said Liner, "but I need to get in contact with the V.C.U. and start following up on these new leads right away. I don't think I can trust in Sheriff Badge's competency any longer." He reached down and pulled a yellow notice from the book that read "Crime Scene — Do Not Enter" before speaking around the piece of paper now held between his teeth. "It's a lot to ask and I know the exordium is missing, but could you take a stab at translating this once you're done?"

"Of course," Twilight replied amicably. "I'm the best you've got, right? I'll let you know as soon as I have something."

Liner flipped the notebook back into his trenchcoat. "I can't thank you enough, Miss Sparkle." He nodded to Redheart. "Director."

As he made to leave the room, Twilight called after him. "Detective Liner?"

Liner stood still in the doorway.

Twilight smiled. "You can call me 'Twilight' if you want. Nopony calls me 'Miss Sparkle.'"

Liner nodded. "Very well, Miss Twilight." He leaned forward and pressed the adhesive yellow notice to the door with a sure hoof. "Keep me posted."

Director Redheart watched Liner leave before shaking her head. "That guy's a real piece of work, huh?"

Twilight gave a light chuckle and turned back to her work. "You'll get no argument there."

As Redheart watched the unicorn mare copy down symbols for a few moments, her expression grew increasingly pensive. Eventually, she retrieved her composure and spoke in an officious tone of voice. "Twilight?"

"Yeah?"

"I know this isn't exactly the time, but I've been meaning to pull you aside for a while now."

Twilight gave Redheart a momentary glance. "I can multitask. What's going on?"

Redheart's blue eyes narrowed. "We need to have a talk about Rainbow Dash."

NEXT
Episode 05: "The Buck Stops Here"

Episode 05: The Buck Stops Here

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THEN

[Night of the Harmony Storm - Five Months Ago]
Twilight Sparkle screamed. It was a howling wail, frustrated and desperate. It was unlike any sound she'd made in her life, and she continued to make it until her breath failed her at last.

Twilight's mane was frayed and unkempt. Her coat had been singed black in a dozen places Those by her side—Applejack, Fluttershy, and Iron Will—had fared no better. Iron Will in particular had gotten the worst of it. Fluttershy looked up from wrapping bandages around his charred hands, her eyes wide with alarm.

Applejack was the first to speak when the unicorn's voice gave out. "Twi?"

Twilight put a hoof between her mane and the Element of Magic resting atop her head. "This thing is worthless!" She tore the golden coronet from her scalp and threw it to the ground. The Element twanged as it hit the dirt but remained unbent and unblemished. The amethyst jewel at its apex reflected a sight that did not belong in this world or any other.

Just a few yards away, a dome made of raging fire burned with all the colors of the rainbow. It rose over ten stories into the night sky, a sky that flickered back and forth between its natural star-laden darkness and a transparent hexagon pattern of pale green. The dome might have resembled an earthbound sun if not for its prismatic hue. Its center resided somewhere in the depths of the Everfree Forest. The edge now stretched across the border of Ponyville and consumed the horizon, tongues of its iridescent flame licking and leaping across a deep trench that just moments ago had been the town's last line of defense. Ponyville's residents had been evacuated as far away from the fire dome as the magic barrier that encapsulated the surrounding countryside would allow. The nearby buildings stood empty. Only Twilight, four of her friends, and their respective Elements remained.

Iron Will looked at the patterns seared into his open palms by the Elements of Generosity, Laughter, and Loyalty. "Rainbow Dash and the others will see the Elements," he said with a voice that exuded rugged calmness. "You have to keep tryin', Twilight. We know they're in there."

"I can't reach them!" Twilight shouted. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving bright lavender streaks in her soot-stained fur. "I can't feel any connection at all! They're . . ." She shuddered visibly. "They're already . . ."

"Don't say it, Twilight," Fluttershy pleaded in a quiet voice. "Please don't . . ."

Twilight dared not face her loved ones at that moment. Instead, she turned her angry gaze on the Element of Magic. "This fire sphere is a storm of harmonic energy. The only weapon in Equestria that can cancel it out is the Arc Prism from the Elements of Harmony."

Applejack walked up beside her. "But we cain't use it if we're all divvied up like this. We gotta think of somethin' else, and fast."

Twilight whirled on her friend, the light of the fire dancing in her eyes. "There is nothing else! What do you think I was looking for while you were out here digging the trench?!" She shut her eyes and turned away, unable to continue looking into Applejack's honest emerald orbs. "Why is this happening?! Why are there six Elements? Why do they have no power when they're not together?" Twilight drew in a sharp breath only to cough and sputter on the smoke in the air. When she looked to Applejack once more, the anger in her expression had been replaced by utter hopelessness. "What good are the Elements of Harmony if they do nothing when my friends are in danger?"

Applejack looked down at the apple-shaped citrine gem of her own Element. She had no answer and, in truth, feared that there might not be one.

It was then that a familiar voice sounded loud and clear above the roaring blaze. "Do not despair, Twilight Sparkle!"

Twilight's ears pricked up and cast about. Her eyes went wide. "Princess?" She turned left and right. "Princess Celestia? Where are you? I thought you couldn't get past the barrier in time!"

Celestia's regal voice rang forth once more. "I haven't, Twilight. Look to your discarded hope."

In this situation, the princess could only have meant one thing. Twilight turned back to the Element of Magic. The amethyst gem shone with brilliant inner light, a light that pulsed brighter with Celestia's every word.

"Do you see it, Twilight Sparkle?"

Applejack removed her singed Stetson. "Whoa Nelly."

Twilight approached the fallen Element, her eyes full of questions. "I see it, Princess. Why didn't you tell me that the Elements could be used like this?"

"The Elements of Harmony hold many secrets," said Celestia's voice. "Secrets that I have kept from you for your own good." She paused. "There is a greater power within the Elements, power enough to deliver your friends and all of Ponyville from this crisis, power that can be used even when the Elements stand apart."

"Tell me!" Twilight blurted out as the flames drew closer. "Tell me how to use it!"

The princess's voice came back sterner than before. "This is not a decision to be made in fear, my student."

Twilight winced at the criticism and did her level best to attain some sort of composure.

"To release this power is to become one with the Elements," said Celestia. "You will never be able to discard them as you did moments ago. Their destiny will become yours and they will be with you wherever you tread. This is an oath that cannot be undone."

Struck with sudden uncertainty, Twilight looked to her friends. Although their eyes wavered for a moment, each of them returned a nod of acceptance.

"Will you accept this burden, the weight of friendship's true power?"

Twilight did not hesitate. "I understand the consequences, Princess, but I've got a promise to keep. My friends are waiting for me, and I won't fail them!"

Silence followed, backed only by the dull roar of the Harmony Storm. Twilight wondered for a moment if she'd said the wrong thing when, to her surprise, Celestia began speaking to the Element.

"Magic, enable audio input, authorization Prime Aspect."

Everypony present recoiled a bit when the Element replied in a flat masculine tone, its words appearing in midair just above the surface of the gem as it spoke.

"PRIME ASPECT CONFIRMED. AUDIO INPUT ENABLED."

"Release limiter. Open all related function arrays to First Aspect and display activation key." With that, Celestia's voice regained its characteristic warmth. "You have proven many times over that you believe in the bonds of friendship, Twilight. Now, take that belief and turn it into power."

The Element of Magic's core gem receded slightly into its golden crest, exposing a tiny sliver of shining circuitry beneath. "LIMITER RELEASE," it said and displayed at the same time. However, the next words to appear had no voice to accompany them.

ACTIVATION KEY READY
SHOUT NOW

The key the words referred to appeared not in midair, but in the midst of Twilight's swirling thoughts. Her heartbeat quickened and her voice threatened to seize up with fear of the unknown. However, the thought of her friends still in danger erased all doubt. She took hold of the Element of Magic and set it once more atop her head.

The Harmony Storm drew closer. The searing wind from its rapid rotation buffeted and battered at everything in its path. Twilight Sparkle stood her ground. With one deep breath, she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"All Crests Open!"

The gems of Honesty, Kindness, and Magic flashed and spoke in unison.

"OPEN UP."

NOW

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
"The Buck Stops Here"

[Morning of Day 23]
Derpy quickened her already brisk trot as she rounded the stretch turn of the Sweet Apple Acres racetrack. The dull, steady thumping of her hooves on the dry dirt formed a strange rhythmic beat with the clattering of the wagon that she had in tow. The sun shone down from a clear blue sky, warm but not overbearing. In fact, to Derpy's great surprise, she'd barely broken a sweat during the entire exercise.

Her initial reaction to the news that she'd be working for the esteemed Applejack on Ponyville's original farmstead had been one of optimistic curiosity. That had transitioned to apprehension earlier this morning when she realized that everypony who wanted to work at the farm, even those hired for temp jobs, had to pass a physical test. Sports had never been her forte, but this particular form of evaluation had turned out to be nothing short of enjoyable.

A cool breeze whipped through Derpy's mane as the finish line came into view. Even strapped to the breast collar and harness needed to pull the apple cart, she still felt nearly weightless as she charged forward. Her heart was clear of worry and doubt. A carefree smile adorned her face. Had the simple act of running always been this fun? Derpy thought on that for a moment as she entered the final stretch. Actually, she couldn't recall the last time she'd tried something like this. Had she ever?

The question left Derpy's mind when her hooves crossed the white chalk line. She came to an easy stop and tossed her mane back with a short chuckle. "How's that, Applejack?"

The orange-hued earth pony mare in question stood on her hind legs, leaning against a nearby fence post. She tipped her signature Stetson back over her blonde mane and lifted up a stopwatch strung about her neck. Her green eyes looked first down then up at Derpy A cocksure grin formed around the hayseed that she held between her teeth. "Better than some."

Derpy raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of the comment before she became aware of the sound of ragged breathing. She turned to her right to see Twilight Sparkle, similarly bound to an apple cart, trudge painfully across the finish line. The normally composed unicorn mare collapsed into a sweaty, exhausted heap, an action that tilted the cart forward and sent a few wax apples tumbling down on top of her.

"There," Twilight gasped. "I did it."

Applejack's grin grew wider. "That you did, Twi." She put all four hooves back on the ground and sauntered toward the two cart-pulling candidates. "One solid lap 'round the track to Derpy's, uh . . ." Applejack counted out the number with hooftaps, but it was clear from the look on her face that she knew the answer already. "Fourteen." She nodded briskly. "That's actually pretty good for you."

Twilight cast a withering glare at her friend as she used her magic to undo the harness. "Bite me, AJ."

Applejack shook her head. "No thanks, Twi. You're lookin' a mite overcooked there." She tapped the stopwatch and turned to a concerned-looking pegasus. "Derpy, on the other hoof, did mighty fine. Even managed to break one o' my old apple cart'n records."

The smile returned to Derpy's face. "Really?"

Applejack looked back over the course to see Big Macintosh, Snips, and Snails collecting wax apples in bushels. "Or ya would have if you'd actually kept the apples in the cart."

Derpy looked back into her empty cart and then back to Applejack, her face the very picture of shocked innocence. "I was supposed to keep them in the cart?"

The good-natured Applejack shook a bit with silent mirth. "Well, we'll have to work on your list'nin skills but you've definitely got the speed 'n endurance we're lookin' for." She gave Derpy a playful shoulder punch. "'Course, that's no surprise given your line of work."

Derpy tilted her head in confusion. She didn't see the wide-eyed alarm that crossed Twilight Sparkle's face behind her.

Applejack coughed. "Oh, ah mean, you havin' been a mailpony 'n all."

A haggard-looking Twilight stepped between Derpy and Applejack and laughed nervously. "Could you give us a moment, Derpy?"

"Sure."

As Twilight pulled her new employer for the week aside, Derpy fiddled with and eventually started to loosen her harness straps. She was glad that Twilight had chosen to accompany her to Sweet Apple Acres and even gladder that her unicorn friend had gone out of her way to share the experience. Still, Derpy thought as she slid out from under the loosened harness, I wonder what she's been so worried about all morning. Did she think I was gonna screw up? Derpy looked down at the dirt. I guess that wouldn't have been a big surprise. Her ears pricked up as the two mares' conversation increased in volume.

"Maybe I should stay after all," said Twilight in an earnest tone. "You know what will happen if—"

Applejack interrupted her friend with a hoof across the shoulder. "Twilight, ah got this."

Twilight continued as if she hadn't heard. "And the best idea for her Cutie Mark that you could come up with was some half-rumped thing about morning dew—"

"Twi!"

Twilight stopped mid sentence.

Applejack looked her dead in the eye and flashed a confident grin. "Ah. Got. This." The firm statement resulted in a moment of honest reassurance made evident by the calm that descended over Twilight's expression. However, Applejack ruined it one moment later as she turned back to Derpy and gave a swish of her tail. "Now why don't you get yourself back to the ol' book fort before you strain somethin'? Derpy, you good to go?"

"Yeah!" Derpy replied in chipper fashion, letting the collar, harness, and shafts fall to the ground.

At the moment of impact, the entire apple cart fell to pieces. Every single bolt, plank, spoke and wheel came apart from one another, leaving naught but a pile of unassembled cart components and a cloud of dust where the final product had once stood.

Derpy's jaw simply dropped open at the sight.

Applejack struggled to keep her composure. "T-that's okay, Derpy." She shook her head, eyes wide open. "Impossible, but okay." A somewhat bashful tone entered her voice. "Uh, Twi? Wanna give us a magic helping hoof here?"

Twilight smiled and backed away from the scene in the direction of the library. "Oh, I don't see why. You've clearly got this handled, A.J." She turned about and walked off in confident stride. "Good luck, you two!"

"Thanks, Twilight!" Derpy Hooves shouted after her. "See you later!"

Applejack pulled her Stetson low and grinned ruefully. "Me 'n mah big mouth." When she raised the hat once more, her smile had never looked brighter. "Well, Derpy, it's like Granny always says—ain't no use cryin' o'er spilled milk."

The torrential rain fell in sheets on the roadside ditch, visibly only where it reflected the flickering torchlight in the dead of night. The crumpled body of a brown-and-white border collie lay still in a shallow mud puddle. Its red collar matched the shade of the blood that flowed from its broken jaw and fatal wounds. That same blood adorned the hooves of the orange farmpony Applejack. She stood quivering in the downpour over the dog's fallen form, her face a mask of terrible anger.
A massive red stallion stood by her side, his face solemn and unyielding. "Are you all right, A.J.?"
The hatred in Applejack's eyes was only rivaled by the murderous intent in her low, rasping voice. "I will be."

"Derpy?"

Derpy Hooves blinked hard and flinched at the sight of Applejack's honest green gaze.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Derpy replied with a smile on her face.

"Well, come on then," said Applejack as she turned toward the orchards. "We got plenty o' work to get done 'fore sundown."

Derpy followed after the farmpony, doing her best to ignore the pounding of her rapid heartbeat.

What the hay was that?

[Night of Day 24]
Twilight Sparkle pushed the book in front of her down from its vertical position and peered over the brim with a suspicious glare. "What the hay was what?"

Derpy thumped a hoof lightly on the dining room table and returned Twilight's expression with an air of utter seriousness. "You know, what they did with the weird barrels." She paused before cocking her head to the side. "Are you listening, Twilight?"

The unicorn in question nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm listening. You're trying to tell me that Applejack . . ."

Derpy nodded.

Twilight's right eyebrow began to arch. " . . . the living Element of Honesty . . ."

Derpy nodded again.

Twilight's eyebrow climbed higher. " . . . and her whole family are lying to us about what they do at the farm?"

Derpy nodded vigorously enough to shake her mane about.

Twilight's eyes narrowed. "This sounds like Spike's department."

Spike the dragon approached the table at that very moment, carrying a tray with three steaming bowls of a vegetable stew commonly known as Hoofton Hotpot. "My department?"

The aroma of choice vegetables and savory herbs was so delicious that even the marginally perturbed Twilight couldn't deny herself a few whiffs. "Yep, this theory sounds just right for File 13."

Spike shook his head and began setting the bowls on the table, careful to slide them around the towering stacks of books and parchments. "I don't know about any 13th file."

Twilight reached out a hoof rendered dexterous by years of intense study and maneuvered one bowl through her literary defenses. "Sure you do, Spike. You'll find it in several tin buckets throughout the library, including the one next to my desk."

Spike brought a thoughtful claw to his chin as the implication sailed just over his head. "Huh, never thought to look there."

Twilight propped her book back up against its stacked counterparts with a swift thump. "Get to it, department head."

"Right!" said Spike. He puffed his chest out proudly and withdrew the tray behind his back. "So, Derpy, what's this 'theory' that you were telling Twilight about?"

Derpy drew in a breath, unintentionally sampling the powerful fragrance of the Hoofton Hotpot and the apple fritters in the oven an the same time. Her eyes glazed over and her jaw went slack.

Spike fidgeted in the awkward silence. "Uh . . ."

Derpy's eyes suddenly refocused. She leaned forward over the table. "It's not a theory! There's some seriously creepy stuff going on at Sweet Apple Acres."

"Uh-huh," Spike responded with more than a little doubt evident in his tone. A possibility dawned on him. "Derpy, are you causing— I mean, having problems with working for A.J.?"

Derpy's eyes searched the ceiling for a moment. "I don't think so. She says I'm 'doin' a mighty fine job.'"

Spike's eyes went wide. "She does?"

Derpy thumped her hoof down once more. "Yeah, but I think she's saying that just so I won't get suspicious."

Spike looked away. "I dunno. That kinda makes me suspicious."

Derpy pointed the hoof at him. "See what I'm talking about? And from what I've seen, you should be."

Spike gulped. "Should I?"

A low groan emanated from behind the stacks of books.

Spike coughed nervously. "Um, maybe you should tell me what you saw. I bet it's nothing too crazy—this is A.J. we're talking about here."

"That's what I thought at first," Derpy replied in the same manner that Rainbow Dash would impart a ghost story. "But then I realized that being the Element of Honesty is a perfect cover." She paused for effect, though a slowly straying iris thwarted her effort. "For evil."

Spike's voice exuded genuine wonder. "What kind of evil?"

"Well," said Derpy. "For one thing, there's these funny barrels with letters I can't read on them. They're stacked by the barn when I leave at sundown, but they're always gone when I go to work in the morning."

"Barrels with strange markings leaving under the cover of night," Spike paraphrased. His eyes widened. "You're thinking some kind of contraband?"

Derpy smiled confidently. "I'm thinking alien cow milk."

A sputtering noise came from behind the book fort.

Spike raised a single claw and opened his mouth to respond but found himself quite speechless.

Derpy nodded. "I checked one of the barrels—they're full of milk from the cows in the barn. There's no way that they can move that many barrels with just the ponies who work there, and the Apples won't give away stuff they make for free. It was confusing at first, but then I remembered this one book that Rainbow Dash gave me. Farm stuff with weird letters that disappear in the night? It's gotta be aliens with a flying saucer—they could move those barrels, and they probably need it to survive or something."

Spike found his voice and a smidgen of skepticism along with it. "And they pay in bits?"

Derpy shook her head. "When they invade, the Apple family lives."

"I—" Spike began to say before falling silent. He scratched absently at his dorsal spines. "I've got no idea what to say."

"Oh, it gets worse," Derpy continued. "I talked to Snips and Snails about it. They say that sometimes, when they have to work past sunset, they hear loud noises and see lights coming from the barn."

"Wow," Spike said in a small voice.

Derpy sat up straight on her stool, her head held aloof. "I'm not saying it was aliens . . ."

Spike swallowed audibly. "But it was aliens?"

Derpy nodded with great severity.

"Holy cow, Twilight," Spike exclaimed. "I think she's onto something. I mean, what if—"

"Spiiiike," came a singsong version of the dragon's name from behind the mountain of manuscripts.

"Yeah?" he answered.

The front book fell forward to reveal Twilight Sparkle smiling dangerously from behind her reading glasses. "You're demoted."

"Oh," Spike groaned sheepishly.

Twilight tipped over a book on top of the stack to her left. It fell open to reveal a symbology chart.

"Hey!" Derpy shouted in astonishment. "These are the letters on the barrels."

"That is Ancient Equestrian," said Twilight. "It's common for farming families that have their roots in Equestrian pre-history to use the old icons for marking produce—it uses less ink. As for how the barrels leave the farm, the milkstallion and his crew pick up the milk before dawn so they have time to package and deliver it during the day."

"Well, what about the—"

Twilight tipped another book over the edge to reveal the contents of a Farmer's Almanac & Planting Guide. "Winter wheat is harvested in the spring, and I heard from Big Macintosh that the crop yield is nearly double what they expected. The Apple family grinds their own flour for homemade bread products that they use in a lot of different ways, like those apple fritters in the oven. With that kind of overabundance, they're probably having to work into the night to get it all processed. The grinder is noisy, and as for the lights . . ." She waved a hoof at the oil lanterns around the room. "It's nice to have light when you're working."

Spike pointed at the almanac. "Why did you even have that at the table?"

Twilight cast him a withering glare. "The point is that nothing strange is going on. Especially not aliens."

Derpy shuffled her hooves and looked at the table. "Well, that does sound a lot simpler than what I came up with."

Twilight nodded sagely. "The truth usually is."

Derpy raised her head and looked Twilight in the eye. "But what about her dog?"

Twilight's mouth fell open in shock.

Even Spike hesitated before speaking. "You mean Winona?"

"Yeah," said Derpy. "Something bad happened to her, and I'm pretty sure that Applejack had something to do with it."

A rattle from the other side of the table caught Derpy's attention. Twilight's body began to shake ever so slightly. Her teeth were gritted. Her eyes were alight with anger. Derpy felt her own body recoil as an instinctive response, even though she was sure that her unicorn friend wouldn't harm her. She was proven right a moment later, but when Twilight spoke, her voice was nearly a full octave lower than Derpy had ever heard it.

"Why do you know about that? You weren't even there."

Derpy felt a lump forming in her throat. She hadn't thought about a way to explain what she'd seen. Twilight's question was one that she hadn't found an answer for either. "I . . . uh . . ."

Twilight closed her eyes and focused on calming herself down. It was several seconds before she spoke again. "If you'd asked anypony in Ponyville you would have known better than to say something like that. Let me make this clear: what happened to Winona was not Applejack's fault, and if you say that it was, or if you even say that you think it was to anypony again I . . ." The statement had been leading to some sort of threat, but the powerful anger behind it had already left Twilight. She slumped back on her stool and shook her head, seeming almost ashamed of her outburst. "I just don't know what I'd do."

Derpy was uncertain whether or not to voice a question considering Twilight's mood, but she chose to risk it anyway. "Then, what did happen?"

Twilight began to reorganize the books. "Ask Applejack."

That idea caused a chill to run through Derpy's form. "But what if—"

"It's what you should have done to begin with," Twilight interrupted in a measured tone. "You cooked up these hare-brained alien theories because you're scared of the truth and you want us to ask her for you."

Derpy chafed at the criticism. "I'm not scared."

Twilight poked her head over the reborn book fort. "Then do us all a favor and ask the Element of Honesty for the truth, okay?"

[Night of Day 25]
The next day brought a sheet of gray clouds that covered the sky from end to end. They lent a depressing air to working outdoors, but provided near-total darkness with the fall of night. Derpy couldn't have asked for better. It was the perfect night for reconnaissance.

She pressed her back against a line of shrubbery that provided ample cover and touched a nervous hoof to the borrowed camera at her side. True to her suspicions, flickering lights shone through the windows of the Sweet Apple Acres barn and the clanking of machinery clashed against the chirping of crickets in an unnatural cacophony. Derpy swallowed hard. The cool night air and perfect cover did nothing to calm her pounding heart nor stem the flow of adrenaline through her veins.

"I'm not scared," she whispered. "I'm right is what I am. There is something fishy going on here." She kept her hoof on the camera so as not to lose it in the darkness. "All I need is a picture. Just one. Then Twilight'll understand and help me put a stop to it." The self-reassurance wasn't working, but Derpy pressed on regardless. "Why be scared? What's the worst they could do?"

An image flashed through Derpy's mind. She saw a little filly fall dead in the midst of a crowd with not a single wound on her body. Her heart skipped a beat. She drew in a sharp breath as it resumed. "W-what's the worst that they could be hiding?"

Another image placed itself over Derpy's vision. A black stallion clad in regal finery stared down at her as floating papers filled the air. The troubled pegasus began to have difficulty breathing. What is this? she thought. What's wrong with me?

"Who goes there?!"

Derpy froze. She recognized the voice as Granny Smith's, and it was close. She dared not look and she wanted to flee, but her body simply wouldn't obey. Her apprehension had turned to ice-cold terror.

"Come on out! I's seen ya already. It ain't no use tryin' t' hide."

Derpy's mind considered doing so, but her terrified form remained rooted to the spot. Seconds passed that seemed like minutes. If they were minutes, they might as well have been hours. Derpy began to lose herself to the hollow feeling in her chest. She wondered if this was what it felt like to pass out.

Finally, Granny Smith spoke once more, though her voice had changed direction. "Well, I guess it was nothin'. Good night, you two. Make sure y'all git to bed in'n hour or so, y'hear?"

Somepony gave a muffled response from inside the barn, but Derpy couldn't identify the speaker. The heavy barn door creaked shut, followed soon after by the receding sound of uneven hoofsteps and a wooden cane on the hard-packed dirt. Blessed relief washed over Derpy's senses as she let out a long exhale.

Maybe I really am sca-

"Wow. That was close, huh?" whispered a voice right next to her.

Derpy tried to scream but found herself pushed back against the bush by a hoof jammed against her muzzle.

A melodic giggle emanated from the assailant. "Don't do that, silly. Granny Smith'll hear you."

Derpy's left eye spied the curly silhouette of the other pony's mane against the dark gray sky. "Ponky Puh?" she managed to mumble around the hoof.

It withdrew, and its owner giggled once more. "Nope. It's just regular old Pinkie Pie. Whatcha doin' here so late?"

Derpy wiped a forearm across her lips to rid them of the grassy taste left by the pink pony's appendage. "Boy am I glad it's you, Pinkie. I'm just trying to get a picture of what's going on inside the barn."

"Ooh," Pinkie exclaimed quietly with a subdued bounce. "Is it for the Apple Family photo album?"

"No, not exactly."

Pinkie's head tilted to the side. "Aw, that's too bad. I'm pretty sure they don't have one of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle with their Cutie Marks."

Derpy's ears pricked up. "It's just those two in there?"

"Yep," said Pinkie Pie before leaning in. "Can I help?"

Derpy gave the idea a moment of thought. She actually felt a bit foolish for being afraid of two ponies younger than herself. "No. I'll probably be fine. Thanks though."

"Okie-dokie-lokie," Pinkie whispered in response. She'd already started to bound off down the line of shrubbery when Derpy called after her.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?"

Pinkie Pie glanced back. "Picking some special mushrooms for Gummi. I have to come get 'em at night 'cause A.J.'s being stingy. She thinks they're no good for him, but what does she know? Gummi's gotten a lot bigger since he started eating them."

The thought of a ten-foot perpetually-tweaked alligator gave Derpy mixed feelings. "Are you sure that's a good thing, Pinkie?"

"I don't see the harm," whispered Pinkie. "He'll probably just shrink back to normal if he gets hit."

Derpy's follow-up question was cut off by a sudden silence from the barn.

"Gotta go," said Pinkie Pie as she turned about to leave. "See ya later, Derpy."

The interruption caused Derpy's mind to return to the task at hand. She couldn't think of any reason for the noises to stop unless the two ponies inside were finishing up.

Ponies? thought Derpy. Truthfully, it hadn't been long at all since Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had come of age. No matter how Derpy looked at them, they still seemed like foals to her. That line of thought came with the smell of burning muffins. Could that smell be coming from the barn?

Which pony would you hate to see judged the most?

Derpy's eyes narrowed. Whatever the smell's origin, she didn't like it any more than the thought of the Apple family involving children in their schemes. Brimming with newfound confidence, she draped the camera's strap around her neck and marched swiftly toward the barn.

[Morning of Day 26]
The dawn of the following day revealed a clear sky of royal blue and lavender hues that made the memory of the cloudy night seem more distant than it really was. The first hints of red and yellow on the horizon irritated Derpy's eyes. She hadn't gotten much sleep after her encounter in the barn, but aside from slightly bloodshot eyes her body showed not a hint of lethargy. She turned her gaze to the farmhouse in an effort to spare her vision. The movement felt insubstantial—almost weightless. Derpy was filled with a nervous energy and her feelings about what she'd learned the night before had coalesced into an unreadable mess. She didn't know how to feel about something like this, but she did know exactly what to do about it. And so she wore a practiced smile. After all, having a sense of direction was something to be happy about, wasn't it?

At long last, her target emerged. Applejack closed the front door of the red farmhouse with a stifled yawn and turned to walk down the porch steps. She froze in place when she saw the pony waiting for her on the lawn. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment before a warm smile lit up her homely face. "Well good mornin' to ya, Derpy."

"Morning, Applejack." Derpy responded cheerily.

Applejack yawned once more as she walked forward. "You're here pretty early, y'know? The part-time shift don't start for another couple o' hours."

Derpy continued smiling. "I know what's going on."

"Do ya now?" said Applejack as she gave Derpy a playful nudge. "Okay, lay it on me. What's goin' on?"

Derpy decided that it was time for her smile to go away. "You're lying to me, Applejack."

Alarm crossed Applejack's features but was soon replaced by a questioning stare. "Now who told you somethin' like that? Did Apple Bloom—"

"Sweetie Belle told me everything when I went to the barn last night."

This time the look of alarm stayed. Applejack pulled the brim of her Stetson down and grimaced. "Oh."

As Derpy continued, her tone never once ventured into anger—only disappointment. "Apple Bloom was gonna keep lying because you told her to, but Sweetie Belle was mad at me. She said it was all my fault that they were having to work so late. They were making flour, just like Twilight said, but not 'cause they have too much wheat." Derpy's throat started to tense up. "You said I was doing a good job here, even though I make a lot of mistakes. But Sweetie Belle says that your family doesn't have time to do all the work you need to get done during the day because you're too busy cleaning up after me."

Applejack pulled her Stetson lower.

"And that's not all. Sweetie Belle had to come help out because you can't stay up that late—you need a good night's sleep to work the way you do. And even with her help, my screw-ups are still cutting into your . . . you know, the money your family makes."

"Profits," mumbled Applejack.

"Right, prophets," said Derpy with an affirmative nod. "Everypony's having to pay for my mistakes, you're losing money on me, and you even had me thinking that y'all were makin' deals with aliens or something. Why would you tell me that I'm doing fine?"

Applejack raised her hat a bit. "Aliens?"

Derpy stared back unblinkingly.

Applejack sighed heavily and pulled her hat back to its normal position. "Okay, okay. Ya got me. I'm sorry I told ya a fib, Derpy. I just . . ." She paused, uncertain of how to say exactly what she wanted to. "Well, I heard about the hard time you had workin' for Spike n' the Post Office and I didn't want ya t' feel like ya couldn't do nothin' right." She waved a hoof out at the rest of the farm. "Everypony else who's got a job here works hard, but they have a pretty fun time doin' it too. That's just the way we do things the way it's supposed t' be on Sweet Apple Acres and . . . I just didn't want you to feel bad, Derpy. It didn't seem fair, especially since you're just lookin' for what your talent is."

At that moment, Derpy was glad she'd given the issue a lot of consideration last night. "And what if I ended up thinking that this was my talent? Would you hire me or would that force you to tell the truth?"

Applejack looked at the dirt. "Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

Derpy read the farmpony's body language incorrectly and nearly turned her head upside down as she attempted to look her temporary boss in the eye. "Applejack?"

"Yeah?"

Derpy held the position, no matter how uncomfortable. "What Sweetie Belle said last night really hurt. Part of that was 'cause I felt silly for thinking you and your family were up to no good, but it mostly hurt because I had to hear it from her. Finding out what I'm good at is really important to me, and I'll never find out if other ponies don't tell me the truth about how I'm doing." She drooped her own head low. "I've been causing problems around here, I get that now." Derpy angled her head so that only one eye and a slight grin was showing. "But if you're up for it, I've got an idea."

Applejack grinned in return and straightened up. "All right, let's hear it."

Derpy snapped to attention. Her grin transformed into a bright smile. "Give me a real shot at this. If I'm doing the work wrong, then teach me how to do it right. If I do my best, and I still mess up too much, then I'll know this farmin' stuff's not for me. Deal?"

Applejack snorted and began to snicker.

Derpy tilted her head to the side. "Did I say something funny?"

Applejack waved a hoof. "Nah, it's just that you said you had an 'idea.'" She recovered from her mirth but still had a wide smile on her face. "That's not an 'idea', Derpy. That's what ah shoulda done in the first place!"

"Hm," replied Derpy. She didn't understand what Applejack meant by that, but she didn't see any reason to worry about it. She put her right hoof forward. "So, deal?"

Applejack pressed one of her own front hooves to it. "You got it, sugarcube."

[High Noon of Day 28]
"Rainbow Dash!"

The pegasus pony in question lowered her hammer and pricked her ears up. She stood on a ladder inside the eight raised walls of the town hall's newly-built third story, just under a half-affixed "M" truss that would soon support the currently-missing roof. Rainbow Dash groaned and wiped her face with the towel around her neck. She knew that voice. She let the seconds pass in silence.

"Rainbow Dash! Look outside!"

Seeing no way out of the encounter, Rainbow Dash slid down the ladder and trotted to the closest window space. "Derpy, if you're gonna— AAH!" She recoiled and fell on her rump. Derpy Hooves was hovering right outside the open window. If Rainbow Dash had taken one more step she would have knocked heads with her.

"Hi!" Derpy managed around the basket handle in her mouth.

Rainbow Dash coughed and got back on her hooves. "You could try using the stairs next time." She fully intended to carry the criticism further but was distracted by the contents of the basket. "Wait a minute. Are those . . ." The tangy yet savory odor of the fluffy treats inside was unmistakable. "Are those redcurrant pancakes?"

"Uh-huh," said Derpy as she set the basket on the floor. "I helped Spike make them. He said they were your favorite."

"He was right," Rainbow Dash said in awe. She approached and laid a grave hoof on Derpy's shoulder. "You have no idea how much I need a good lunch right now. You're a frikkin' lifesaver!"

"You're welcome, Rainbow." Derpy smiled and reached back to pull a thermos and picnic blanket out of her saddlebags. She paused with the thermos handle in her mouth. "I don't have any syrup, but you like them plain, right?"

"You bet your rump I do!" Rainbow Dash reached forward and gave the top pancake a mighty flip. She watched it as it soared into the air, tilted her head back, opened her mouth wide, and made a perfect catch. A noisy, almost herculean chewing effort followed and ended with an audible swallow. A look of intense satisfaction played havoc with Rainbow's face before transforming into her usual cocky grin. "Syrup's no good for the feathers of a true athlete, you know?"

Derpy fixed the last corner of the blanket and smiled. "Nope, but now I do."

Rainbow Dash did her part by lifting the basket onto the blanket, but looked up from the task with a puzzled expression. "Uh, I really appreciate this, Derpy. It's just that . . . uh . . ." She scratched at her mane nervously. "Is there a special occasion that I'm forgetting or something?"

Derpy shook her head and lowered it a bit. "No, I'm just trying to say that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you a jerk before."

Rainbow's face flushed red. "I-it's not that big of a deal."

"Yeah it is," Derpy responded as she twisted open the thermos cap, "'cause you're not a jerk. You're a good pony—I was just mad." She poured a cup of ice-cold water and pushed it toward her companion. "Will you forgive me?"

Rainbow's face was beet red. She laughed and waved a hoof. "C'mon, Derpy! You're killing me here! Of course I forgive you—quit bein' so mushy!"

"Oh, that's a relief," sighed Derpy, clearly happy not to have the deed tugging on her conscience any longer.

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash uttered awkwardly. She very much wanted to snag another pancake, but decided to keep her hooves where they were for what she needed to say. "Actually, I kinda owe you an apology too."

"Huh?" asked a wide-eyed Derpy. "For what?"

Rainbow avoided Derpy's gaze. "Well . . . You see, I . . ." She let out a frustrated groan, stood up, and pointed a hoof at the gray pegasus. "Okay, look. I don't do this . . . 'feelings' stuff, so open up your ears 'cause I'm only sayin' this once!"

Derpy sat up straight with a smile. "Okay."

Rainbow's hoof wavered. "Y-you were right. I was being a jerk. I mean, don't get me wrong—I was pretty steamed at you when you left, but . . ." She lowered the hoof and looked away. "The more I thought about it . . . you were just standing up for Spike. I mean, a year ago that might've been me yelling at Rarity or something. Anyway, I totally get where you were coming from and . . . I kinda respect you for it. Heck, I intimidate most ponies around here, so standing up to me is pretty . . . I dunno, heroic or something." The hoof came up once more, accompanied by a welcoming smile. "So, we cool?"

Derpy giggled and gave her the high-one she may or may not have been looking for. "Yeah, we're cool, Rainbow Dash."

"Okay, good," Rainbow declared as she flopped back to a sitting position. "Touchy-feely time is over. Pancake time starts now!" She reached over to her cup and paused, looking at the object inquisitively. "Say, that's actually pretty impressive."

"What is?"

Rainbow pointed at the thermos. "Half the ponies I know ask me to get those caps off for them. You did it on your own and poured two cups."

Derpy nodded. "Uh-huh."

Rainbow smiled brazenly. "No offense, but you're usually a walking disaster, especially with delicate stuff."

"I was just being careful," said Derpy as she reached for a pancake. "Applejack thinks that the reason I make so many mistakes is 'cause I don't think enough when I do things. So, I'm practicing being extra-careful all the time."

"Sounds like everything's workin' out over there."

"Mostly," Derpy replied with a half-yawn. "I just get really tired toward the end of the day. I'm working twice as long now."

Rainbow waved a hoof at the wooden trusses. "You still got energy for this, right?"

Derpy wolfed down half a pancake and imitated Rainbow's grin. "I won't know until I try."

Rainbow's grin got noticeably wider. "That's what I like to hear."

[Afternoon of Day 30]
Applejack leaned against one of the many trees of her orchard and stared off into the bright oranges and pinks of the sunset. It was a sight that she'd never tired of—not once since her youth—but she couldn't stop her eyes from drifting to the lonely stone edifice on the far-off hillside. She took a sip of cider from a nearby mug and frowned a bit. Her thoughts didn't get far before they were interrupted by the sounds of heavy trotting and gasping breaths.

A sweaty Derpy Hooves approached from the side, swaying back and forth with an unsteady enthusiasm. "H-hi, Applejack!" she blurted out around ragged breaths. "T-they told me come meet you here." Uncertainty arose in her expression. "After work. To meet you here after work, that-that's what they told me."

Applejack smiled and held up a front hoof. "Hold up a minute, Derpy. Sit down and catch yer breath—nopony told ya t' bust a lung gettin' over here." She cocked her head toward the mugs of cider at her side. "You're not on the clock right now. It's just you n' me relaxin' after a hard day's work."

Derpy followed Applejack's instructions to the letter, plopping herself down under the apple tree and pulling over a mug of liquid refreshment.

"Slowly now," cautioned Applejack. "Don't want t' make yerself sick."

Derpy took a few moments to calm down from her headlong sprint across the farm before asking, "Am I really just here to hang out?"

"Eh, not exactly," replied Applejack. She pulled a small stack of papers from the grass and let them fall to her lap. "Yer results are in."

Derpy's face lit up with excitement. "Oh my gosh. How'd I do?"

Applejack sifted the papers with a cursory hoof. "Huh."

Derpy leaned forward. "What's 'huh?'"

Applejack raised an eyebrow, her gaze locked on the papers. "It's funny. If you'd told me a year ago that we'd have official Sweet Apple Acres Stationary ah woulda looked at you like ya had three heads. This was all Apple Bloom's idea, of course—"

"Applejack!" Derpy whined.

Applejack turned to Derpy with a wise-guy grin. "Just kiddin'." She tossed the top paper over to Derpy.

The pegasus mare looked down at the report, but the various charts and graphs meant little to her. "So, is this good?"

"I'd say so," replied Applejack. "You broke even, sunshine. Maybe even made a little on top."

The words were as indecipherable to Derpy as the paper before her. "Um . . ."

Applejack leaned toward her, making her tone bright so that her companion was sure to understand. "You were costin' us money before, remember? Well, now we're back up to just a tiny bit o' profit for this week. There ain't nopony else around here changin' work habits anymore, so that's all you." Seeing an ever-widening smile on Derpy's face, Applejack decided to temper the good news. "Now don't misunderstand—that don't make ya a farmpony all-star. Still, with that kinda improvement over just a few days of good solid effort, it really is somethin' to be proud of." She leaned back against the tree once more. "Heck, if ya want to stay on, I wouldn't mind hirin' ya."

Derpy's mouth fell open. "Really?"

Applejack tipped the brim of her Stetson up. "Is that what you'd like to do?"

The inquiry reminded Derpy of a similar question that Twilight had once asked of her. She thought hard for a moment or two, but it didn't take very long. "Thanks, Applejack, but I don't think this is my talent. I'd really like to find that out while I've got the time."

Applejack smiled at that answer. "Well, you're welcome anytime." She took a sip of frothy beverage from her mug. "And remember, that's an Apple family rule—friends are always welcome."

If the smile that appeared on Derpy's face had been made of sugar, Applejack would have contracted a case of diabetes on the spot.

Applejack cast her earnest companion a sideways glance. "I know ah said t' take it slow, but that cider ain't gonna drink itself."

"You're serious?" asked Derpy as her train of thought careened right past her new friend's advice. "You and me are . .."

"Well why not, sugar? I've taken a likin' to ya—don't need t' be more complicated than that." Applejack looked Derpy right in the eye. "Less'n that don't meet with your approval."

Derpy looked genuinely shocked. "Of course it does. I just don't really get it. All I did was work hard and be careful."

Applejack's smile took on a wistful quality. "See that headstone on the hill over yonder?"

Derpy looked in the direction of Applejack's gaze to find a single stone monument silhouetted against the setting sun. "Yeah."

"That's where I laid my first friend t' rest."

Derpy felt a sudden knot form in her throat. "You mean . . ."

"Winona," said Applejack. "That dog was right by my side ever since I was no bigger than a watermelon, and I loved her just for that. It was only when ah went t' get my schoolin' done that I understood somethin' about that love. The other fillies and foals didn't know any better, but they could be as two-faced n' cruel as a starvin' hydra. Winona was different. From the tip of her ears to the tip of her tail there wasn't a single lie t' be found." Applejack gave a light chuckle. "Now that's not too unusual as far as dogs go. Still, she was the one who taught me that bein' honest is worth a whole lot more than just doin' what your granny tells you." She turned her gaze back to the intently listening Derpy. "It's been two months since I had t' say goodbye, but I didn't realize just how much I missed that kind of unfailin' honesty comin' from somepony besides me."

Derpy's face flushed at the compliment, but the knot in her throat stayed and wouldn't allow one question to go unasked. "How did it happen?"

Applejack's smile faded away. She turned back toward the grave in the distance. "I lost sight of Winona when we were out herdin' cattle one evening. Didn't worry me too much at first—happens sometimes when there's a wild stray. It was already dark and pourin' down rain by the time I realized she was gone. I went lookin' for her even so, and when I found her . . ." She bit at her lower lip. "She wasn't my dog anymore."

Derpy whickered in response. "What?"

The fading red of the setting sun reflected in Applejack's eyes. "Timber wolves carry somethin' that acts like rabies at first—turns a perfectly good dog into a bloodthirsty monster. Give it a few more days and there won't be any difference left between your little pal and a real timber wolf." Applejack sniffed and pulled the brim of her hat low. "Once I saw Winona like that . . . There ain't no cure, y'know?" She paused before saying, "Ah did the only thing I could."

Derpy bowed her head, ashamed for her earlier suspicions. "I'm sorry."

Noticing her friend's somber mood, Applejack quickly restored a smile to her features. "Ain't nothin' for you t'be sorry for, sunshine. It's just hard for me to let go, 'specially when what happened don't make no sense."

Derpy looked up. "It doesn't?"

Applejack took another swig from her mug. "Y'know that stuff that got to Winona? The wolves carry it in their blood--well, sap really. Now how would Winona get that in her? They don't bleed out their snouts, and their skin's made o' wood. She'd have to chew on one of those wolves for a good half-hour to get down t' the veins." She shook her head. "Winona knew better than that anyhow. I lost count o' the number of wolves we'd tangled with over the years." A moment of silence followed, but Applejack soon dispelled it with a dismissive sigh. "Well, I didn't figure it out then and I aint' gonna figure it out now sippin' cider under the apple trees." She cast a playful glance at Derpy. "Would you take a sip o' that mug I saved for ya before I have to force it down your gullet?"

The enraptured Derpy had completely forgotten her thirst. She wordlessly lifted the cider off the ground and began to drink. Several seconds later, she was still going.

Applejack's eyes grew wider with every gulp. "Are you really gonna--"

Derpy planted the empty mug on the ground and wiped the froth mustache from her face.

"--finish the whole thing?"

Derpy beamed a smile back at the now-redundant question.

Applejack exhaled sharply through her nose. "Good, ain't it?" She quickly finished off the last of her own cider and stared at the Sweet Apple Acres logo on the mug. "We found a way to serve it year-round after Apple Bloom got her Mark. The farm's been goin' through a lot of changes thanks to her."

Derpy suppressed a small burp. "Good ones, right?"

Applejack looked surprised by the question. "Course they are—came from my little sister, didn't they? She's always been a brighter bulb than most ponies gave her credit for." Her eyes drifted downward. "Still, the way it's all happening so fast . . ." She looked back at Derpy. "Do ya ever feel like you're waitin' for the other horseshoe to drop?"

"Applejack!" came a masculine voice from some distance away.

"Oops," said Applejack as she jumped up from her sitting position. "Looks like they sent out a search party."

"A party?" Derpy asked with obvious confusion.

Applejack chuckled. "Nah, it's just Big Mac."

The well-built red stallion named Big Macintosh closed the distance quickly, coming to a skidding halt just short of the two mares' position.

"Hey, Mac," Applejack offered in greeting. "I'm not due back already, am I?"

"Timbersign," Macintosh grunted out between breaths. "South orchard."

All traces of joviality disappeared from Applejack's face. "Same pack?"

Macintosh nodded gravely.

Derpy rose to her hooves as well. "What's going on?"

Applejack turned to her and explained the situation in a calm voice. "We got a pack of timber wolves in the south orchard, Derpy. I think me and Mac can handle 'em, but this could be dangerous." Her eyes moved back and forth in thought for a moment. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Derpy nodded.

"Apple Bloom is inspectin' an old wheat field just north o' here that we're gonna burn down in a couple o' days. I need you to go there, find her, and get yourselves back to the farmhouse." Applejack laid a solemn hoof on Derpy's shoulder. "I'd go myself, but Mac's gonna need some help with a whole pack down there. Can you handle this, Derpy?"

Derpy's heartbeat began to quicken. The sense of danger was palpable, but she was familiar with the layout of the farm by now. "I can do it," she responded.

"All right," said Applejack. "I'm trustin' you. When y'all get back to the house, lock all the doors and windows. Don't open 'em for anythin' till me n' Mac come for you, got it?"

"Got it."

Applejack pulled her Stetson tight on her head and flashed a grim smile. "Okay, Mac. Lead the way."

Minutes later, Derpy Hooves charged across the dirt paths between towering fields of wheat that blocked her vision. A chill wind whipped about in the dim twilight, filling the air with the sound of rustling leaves.

"Apple Bloom!" Derpy shouted above the noise. "Apple Bloom, where are you?!"

She arrived at a four-way crossroads and suddenly realized that she'd lost her sense of direction. Each of the paths through the near-solid walls of wheat looked identical under the sky of pale lavender. Derpy spun about in place, unsure of where to go next or how to stop her slowly rising sense of panic.

"Apple Bloom!" she shouted even louder than before.

"Hey! Is that you, Derpy?"

Derpy Hooves swiveled about to see Apple Bloom emerge from one of the walls of wheat, her cream-colored coat and fire-red mane easily visible even in the low light. She stood about six inches shorter than Derpy, but very nearly had the proportions of a full-bodied mare.

"Whatcha doin' up here?" asked Apple Bloom in her countrified cadence. "I thought you were meetin' A.J. after work."

"Apple Bloom!" Derpy exclaimed as she rushed to the earth pony's side. "There's timber wolves on the farm!"

The younger mare looked a bit skeptical. "Seriously?"

"Come on," said Derpy, prancing in place. "She said to go back to the farmhouse and lock the doors."

Apple Bloom giggled. "Aw, calm down, Derpy." She gave a powerful kick with a rear hoof. "Just show me where A.J. and Big Mac went. I'll help 'em give those doggies a good clobberin'."

Derpy's mouth fell open. "No, Apple Bloom. Applejack's trusting me to get you to a safe place. If something happens to you then . . ."

Apple Bloom looked a bit disappointed, but a tiny smile crept across her face. "You forgot the way back, didn't ya?"

Derpy looked away. "T-that too."

Apple Bloom gave a light chuckle. "Well don't you worry. I'll get ya t' the farmhouse in one piece." She strode confidently past Derpy for a few steps before stopping in place and looking about. "Wait, what the hay is this?"

"What's what?"

Apple Bloom continued casting about, her expression growing more frustrated by the moment. "I know this field like the back o' my hoof but . . ." She turned to Derpy. "The paths are all pointed in weird directions, like somepony jumbled them up." She squinted. "Hey, is it getting dark a lot quicker than usual or is it just me?"

It was true—the sky had transitioned from lavender to dark gray in a matter of minutes. Derpy was about to agree verbally when another voice interrupted her.

"We meet again, Ms. Hooves."

An earth pony mare materialized out of the wheat fields. She seemed unfamiliar at a glance, but recognition began to dawn on Derpy when she imagined the mare in uniform. Her magenta coat, crimson mane, and stern blue eyes brought her name to the forefront of Derpy's mind. "Ms. Strike?"

"Strike?" asked Apple Bloom. "You mean Three Strike?"

Three Strike ignored the inquiry and sauntered forward in haughty fashion. "You're a hard pony to reach, Ms. Hooves, but I told you that this wasn't over. No matter what these ponies have told you, you're nothing more than a burden on each and every one of them."

"That ain't true!" shouted Apple Bloom.

Three Strike frowned. "It would be wonderful if it weren't, but we both know the truth. Don't we, Derpy?" Her eyes narrowed, bright blue even in the dim light. "You can either continue to bother them and be reviled behind your back, or you can come with me."

Derpy had never expected to see the unpleasant mare again. The words hurt more than Derpy thought they would, and she could only stammer in response. "I . . . I uh . . ."

Apple Bloom leaped between the two mares. "Don't you listen to her, Derpy! She ain't no agent o' the crown—she's a fraud! Twilight told me so!" She glared daggers at Three Strike. "You ain't nothin' but a common crook. Now git off my farm before I have to buck you off it!"

Three Strike sighed heavily. "Well, Derpy? What will it be?"

Derpy's words were failing her. She began to move behind Apple Bloom to indicate her decision, but stopped as something caught her eye. "What's wrong with your mane?"

Three Strike pulled her red mane into view. Deep orange streaks were starting to run through it like water pouring down a rock face. Her eyes closed and a smile played across her lips. "Had to run out sooner or later, I guess." Then she began to laugh.

Derpy and Apple Bloom backed away slowly as Three Strike's laughter vacillated between sniggering fits and maniacal cackling. When the strange pony's eyes opened once more, the laughter ceased. The round pupils had narrowed to reptilian slits, and her blue irises gave off an intense ethereal light. A black cloak swirled through the air above and descended like a cascading wave over Three Strike's form. In the next moment, it pulled tight around her neck and covered everything but the tips of her hooves, muzzle, and a few wisps of her now-gray mane. Her coat had changed to a shade of royal blue, and the light of her eyes shone from under the cowl over her head.

A droplet of yellowish discharge escaped from her lips as she smiled. "Hi there."

Derpy had gone slack-jawed at the surreal sight but quickly clamped it shut and covered her nose. "What is that smell? It's awful!"

Apple Bloom coughed and covered her snout as well. "That smells like sulfur." She coughed once more and stared at the pony that looked more like a living shadow than anything else. "What the heck are you?"

The cloaked pony's voice had changed completely from the stern authority of Three Strike's pronouncements. Her next words had a guttural, uneven tone. "Sissy says I'm an Emissary." She giggled and blew at the brim of her cowl. "But you half-lifes like to call me Screw Loose. Take your pick."

Derpy felt a pressure growing in her head and chest. A primal fear rose within her, unlike anything she'd felt before. There was no suspicion this time--she knew that Screw Loose was dangerous. She wanted to warn Apple Bloom, but the words stuck in her throat.

Apple Bloom kicked at the dirt. "I don't much care for either one. Now I warned ya once, I won't do it again. Git off my farm!"

Screw Loose advanced on the pair with a malicious grin. "Or what?"

Apple Bloom wasted not a second. She turned and lashed out with a powerful hind leg in one swift motion. No creature standing where Screw Loose did could have avoided the blow. However, Apple Bloom's hoof caught nothing but thin air. Screw Loose's form dissipated into black smoke on impact, causing the young farmpony to overbalance. Within the breadth of a second, Screw Loose's cloaked form reappeared at Apple Bloom's vulnerable flank and punched hard. The attack caught Apple Bloom full across the face with enough force to send her skidding across the dirt in a cloud of dust.

Derpy looked to where the dust cloud stopped in shock. Apple Bloom was splayed out on all fours, clearly knocked out of consciousness. She turned back to Screw Loose to find the unearthly pony leaning into her face.

"Gosh, I've been wanting to do that for two whole months."

Derpy recoiled with a yelp, but Screw Loose stayed right with her.

"Playtime is over, Derpy Hooves. You're coming with me, one way or the other." She stopped moving forward and looked around Derpy at the fallen protector. Screw Loose grinned wickedly. "In a minute, anyway." With that, she moved toward Apple Bloom.

Derpy felt as if sirens were blaring inside her head. She turned about and forced her vocal chords to cooperate. "W-what are you doing?"

Screw Loose let out a harsh laugh. "Just a little fun before we go. I'm gonna leave dear old Applejack a present." She looked back at Derpy. "I can make monsters y'know. I can make 'em out of anyone or anything." She tilted her head up. "That's why I have so many friends."

It was then that Derpy noticed them. Red eyes situated on snarling wooden faces littered the walls of wheat--they were completely surrounded by timber wolves, or at least, what had once been timber wolves. A black sludge oozed from their joints and odd antler-like growths stuck out from their otherwise smooth skin at crazy angles. The creatures waited patiently, apparently at their master's beck and call. Conscious thought began to fade from Derpy's mind. Every fiber in her being was screaming at her to run like the wind.

Screw Loose cackled madly, her voice dripping with mirth. "Oh Applejack was so broken up over what happened to that stupid dog! Just imagine how she'll feel when she has to kill her own little sister!" She let out a squeal of delight. "I can't wait to see the look on that bumpkin half-life's face!"

Screw Loose's words came together in Derpy's terrified thoughts. She gasped. "You did it. You made Winona sick."

"Duh," remarked Screw Loose as she neared Apple Bloom's fallen form. "It was either that or let her lead the Apples right to me. But that was sloppy improv. This . . ." She giggled. "This is gonna be a work of art!"

The fluffy filly named Sleepy Pie stumbled forward from the edge of the crowd. Cross watched in stupefied horror as her wide tearful eyes gave him one last pleading look before glazing over. Her small body toppled forward into the grass, never to rise again.

The vision caused Derpy's body to move. She threw herself between Screw Loose and Apple Bloom, standing her ground in silence.

Screw Loose smiled. "What's this?"

"I'll make you a deal," said Derpy. "I'll go with you, and I won't cause trouble." She withered a bit under Screw Loose's glowing half-gaze but steeled herself for whatever was to come. "Just don't hurt Apple Bloom."

"Aww," cooed Screw Loose. "That is so sweet of you." She gave a tilt of her head. "But it's really no trouble for me to knock you out and do what I want."

WHACK!

Screw Loose's hoof hit Derpy's cheek so hard that she felt her jaw loosen. Pain seared through her head and her body lurched to the right, but Derpy forced herself to remain standing. When the taste of copper filled her mouth, she simply swallowed and stared back at her assailant.

"Wow," said Screw Loose. "You're tougher than you look." The glow from her eyes shifted from blue to a nearly black shade of violet. She raised her hoof once more. "Lucky for you, I love doing things the hard way."

A familiar voice rang out over the wheat field. "I'd put that hoof back where it belongs if I was you."

Both Derpy and Screw Loose turned to see Applejack trotting her way along the dirt path past growling rows of timber wolves waiting for instruction.

"A.J.!" exclaimed Screw Loose as she lowered her hoof, her eyes returning to their previous blue coloration. "I left you at the south orchard. Now how'd you get here fast? I was sure that I had at least a few minutes to play."

Applejack smiled as she neared their position, looking for all the world as if she'd happened upon a Sunday picnic. "I gotta give ya credit, Screwy. Magic'n yourself up as Big Mac and teleportin' away after gettin' me surrounded was pretty clever." Her smile arched up to show her teeth. "For a scumbag."

Derpy Hooves could only give a teary-eyed smile at her friend's arrival. She felt sure that she would vomit if she dared to open her mouth.

Applejack laid a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. "Thanks, Derpy. Now stand back, y'hear?"

Derpy nodded and stuck close to Apple Bloom as Applejack stepped forward.

"This is touching," quipped Screw Loose. "You're like a hillbilly knight in shining armor, or at least you would be if you could actually do anything." She waved at the canine faces in the wheat fields. "Why don't you get out of my way before I let my friends turn you into a chew toy?"

Applejack looked left, then right, and whistled. "So, lemme guess. Your plan's to get me tangled up with more timber wolves while you run over to Derpy, grab her, and then teleport outta here while I'm occupied." She swished her tail mockingly. "Right?"

Screw Loose snorted. "And if it is?"

Applejack's expression took on a malicious quality. "Too late."

Flickering lights began to appear at all points on the dark horizon. The wheat fields were completely surrounded by distant flames with an odd tinge of crimson.

"Well, go on," said Applejack. "Try to 'port outside of it. You could always just come right back."

Screw Loose sighed. "Only for you, A.J." Her blue eyes flashed brightly, but nothing happened. The flashed once more, producing nothing at all. She gave Applejack a sideways glance. "How did you—"

"Anti-magic barrier," answered Applejack with obvious pride. "The recipe's been in our family since before anypony cares to remember, and when Twilight warned me about you havin' weird magic, I figured it might be nice to set the table in case you came by t' visit." She made a counting motion with a front hoof. "Works on ponies, works on monsters," She pointed the hoof at her adversary. "And I guess it works on you, stinkbreath. You'll never get outta here before the royal guard shows up."

The timber wolves began to move onto the dirt paths. Screw Loose threw a forearm to her brow in mock despair. "Oh no, I suppose you're going to put me in hoofcuffs now."

"Depends," Applejack replied, letting the smile fade from her face. "What you said you did to Winona, is it true?"

"It sure is," Screw Loose shot back. "And the same's gonna happen to—"

"Now that's a problem for me," Applejack interrupted. She stepped forward slowly, ignoring the danger all around. "See, Twilight wants ya alive, but you got a lot to answer for. On top of all the stuff the police are after ya for, ya bring a pack o' timber wolves on my farm, threaten my whole family, and ya even try to cast some crazy voodoo on my sister." At this point, she was inches from Screw Loose's face. "I mighta been able to swallow all that, but you took my dog from me too." Cold light danced in her emerald eyes. "I don't care if I have to bust through ev'ry timber wolf in the Everfree Forest--you are not leavin' this field in one piece."

Screw Loose stared right back at her in unrepentant mirth. "You and what army?"

"Who needs one?" Applejack whispered. She took one step back and shouted at the top of her lungs. "HONESTY!"

Derpy had no idea what her friend was thinking. One pony against all this? She trusted Applejack, but all she could think about were the innumerable timber wolves moving all about and their unfathomable mistress. It was in the midst of this hopelessness that she saw it. The ground beneath their hooves rumbled and split open, revealing a night sky beneath filled with stars, auroras, and swirling rainbows. At its center of the abyss that could not possibly exist where it was, there stood a single ivory monument that shone forth in stunning radiance.

Derpy's lips moved of their own accord. "The White Spire . . ."

The wondrous crevice closed as quickly as it had opened, but not before a single object rocketed up from the depths. It flew through the air and latched itself around Applejack's neck, revealing itself by the golden crest and citrine gem as the Element of Honesty.

The gem blinked twice with an inner light and spoke in a flat, masculine tone. "READY."

"Really?" Screw Loose laughed. "What good will that do?"

Applejack ignored her and shouted once more. "Crest Open!"

The gem blinked three times. "OPEN UP."

As Derpy watched, the apple-shaped core gem receded slightly into its crest. Swirling orange lights escaped from within and surrounded Applejack in a glowing whirlwind, followed by two pieces of the crest that broke off and sailed behind her head. The two fragments of golden alloy realigned themselves into a pair of apple-shaped ornaments that dove into the midst of Applejack's floating mane and began to restyle her hair. Aided by the glowing lights, they fashioned a pair of braided ponytails and snapped themselves to the tufts at the ends in the breadth of a second. And, as the orange lights began to fade, an inner light shone forth from Applejack's green irises, an unmistakable sign of the magic power that now coursed through her body.

Screw Loose recoiled from the spectacular display and moved into the walls of wheat, flashing a devilish grin as she did so. The timber wolves closed in from the rear only to raise their heads in alarm at the sound of thundering hoofbeats. The heroic form of the real Big Macintosh barreled across the dirt path from one wheat field to another, busting some of the wolves to pieces with the force of his impact and scattering the rest like ninepins.

Applejack turned her glowing gaze to Derpy Hooves. "No matter what happens, stay right there, sugarcube."

Awestruck and feeling completely out of her depth, Derpy could only nod briskly in return.

Applejack moved back toward their position as smoke from the spreading fires at the edge of the wheat fields drifted in all around them. Nearly half of the timber wolves raced off to deal with Macintosh while the others filed in to get at what looked like the easier targets. Upon seeing the pony with the glowing eyes look away, the most courageous of the group leapt at Derpy and Apple Bloom, who were both to Applejack's rear. The farmpony struck out and scored a clean hit on the assailant without looking in his direction.

Normally, Derpy would have expected this kind of blow to send the wolf reeling. Instead, the wolf exploded into chunks and splinters on impact, as if he'd swallowed a lit stick of dynamite.

Several more wolves rushed forward at the vulnerable Derpy only to meet grisly ends. Applejack's movements were almost too quick for the eye to follow--she was effectively defending their position from all angles with only two back legs. Stranger still, Applejack wasn't looking at the attackers when she struck. Her radiant eyes seemed to be searching for something else, even in the midst of battle.

When another wave of vicious canines advanced on the three ponies, there was an explosion of black smoke overhead. It was Screw Loose, whose teleportation ability within the barrier seemed to work just fine. There was no delay at all between the appearance of the smoke and Screw Loose dropping down for the kill. Even so, Applejack proved faster. She dropped onto her back and lashed out with both hind legs at a timber wolf aiming for her flank. The wolf's limbs shattered with a resounding snap as the body shot up and hit Screw Loose like a cannonball, knocking the wind out of her. She vanished into another puff of smoke as the two timber wolves coming from the front raced forward to take advantage of the prone Applejack. The farmpony used the momentum from her kicks to stand up on her two front legs, striking out at the would-be killers and hitting them both in faces that turned to sawdust before their bodies hit the dirt.

Derpy could barely keep up as Applejack whirled about like a pony gone mad, attacking and defending in all directions with lightning speed and flawless accuracy. Screw Loose continued to teleport into the battle from odd angles only to be smacked back into a cloud of smoke as quickly as she'd appeared. Throughout the lunatic dance of death, not a single wooden claw touched the crouching Derpy or the unconscious Apple Bloom.

It wasn't long before Screw Loose began to run out of "friends." When she observed that only a few timber wolves remained, she reappeared on the edge of combat with the dark violet glow once again present in her eyes. Five flames of the same color sprouted in the air around her. "Burn pretty for me, A.J.!" she screamed as the flames shot out in different directions before lancing toward Applejack.

As with the other attacks, Applejack saw them coming. She thrust out mightily with both front hooves at the last two timber wolves, impaling them both. She then swung the unfortunate creatures at the oncoming flames and rolled into a nearby wheat field. What was left of the wolves collided in midair with three of the violet flames in a thunderous explosion and brilliant fireworks. The other two splashed upon the near-solid carpet of wheat, only embers reaching the ground below.

One second later, a bright-eyed Applejack emerged from the field and advanced on Screw Loose. "I'm as good as my word, Screwy!" she yelled. "Let's see if you go 'crunch' the same way yer pets do!"

A confidently-smiling Screw Loose, battered though she was, thrust her right arm out to the side. "Sorry that I won't be here for the beating, A.J., but I know when I've overstayed my welcome." A ball of violet flame appeared at her side, growing larger by the moment.

Applejack halted her charge and prepared to dodge the projectile. "How's that gonna help?!" she shouted. "You can't bust through the barrier with magic!"

Screw Loose sneered through her bruises. "I know." The ball of flame had grown to the size of an apple cart. She lifted her right hoof high in the air and brought it down, pointing at the now-exposed Derpy Hooves and Apple Bloom.

As the orb of fire shot through the air, Applejack realized that she'd made a fatal mistake. There was no way to get to her charges in time. "Apple Bloom!" she shouted in desperation. "Derpy!"

Derpy saw it coming, and as the flaming violet projectile began to fill her vision, everything seemed to slow down. If I jump to the side now, she thought, I'll probably live. But Apple Bloom will . . . With the time for only one swift action left, Derpy threw herself bodily over Applejack's sister. Applejack trusted me to keep you safe. She felt the heat of the descending spell, and yet felt sure of herself and at peace. I don't care what happens to me, I won't break my promise!

At the moment of impact, Derpy did not feel pain. Instead, she felt a curious sensation. Something left her body, something that was both part of her and not part of her at the same time. Everything else began to fade away.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the roar of a lion . . .

[Night of Day 30]
When Derpy regained consciousness, she found herself on a cot surrounded by doctors, police officers, and even a few royal knights in full armor. From the pungent smell of burning wheat and the night sky above, it seemed that she wasn't too far from where she'd been. Twilight Sparkle and Spike were nearby, both looking very worried. Twilight was talking to one of the doctors while Spike fidgeted nervously with his sword.

The doctor nearest to her noticed her open eyes and immediately called over his colleagues. The next few minutes were filled with medical instruments moving back and forth and a battery of questions from the physicians. Derpy nodded and shook her head in response, but her vocal chords felt like they were caught in a vice. Not painful, just not working either. When the ponies in white coats were at last convinced that she was in no danger, they allowed her to sit up. Twilight and Spike rushed to her side, each expressing concern and regret that they hadn't been there, but that seemed silly to Derpy. After all, they couldn't have known that something like this would happen.

Those around her kept talking and gesturing, but Derpy started to tune them out. Her thoughts about what had happened were a jumbled mess. She wondered whether the place that was burning was called Sweet Apple Acres or Sunny Stables. She saw Applejack and Apple Bloom in the care of other doctors, both apparently none the worse for wear. It made her glad to see that they'd both made it, but she couldn't stop worrying about Silver Cross. Had he escaped his brush with death as well? The more she thought, the more it hurt to think.

How did I live? That thought survived her confusion. She focused on it and found no answer. She felt fine. The doctors said that there was nothing wrong with her aside from bruises and a dislocated jaw. Then what happened to the ball of fire? What happened to Screw Loose? A chilling fear crept back into her senses. I almost died. She felt cold and hollow at the thought and drew her limbs about her. Spike grabbed a blanket from a supply cart and draped it over her, but it did nothing to stop the feeling.

It was then that a brown earth pony stallion in a tan trenchcoat made his way through the crowd. He greeted Twilight and Spike before sitting down to bring his gaze level with Derpy's. Derpy stared back at him, transfixed by his blue eyes. They were the same color as those of Screw Loose.

"Hello, Derpy," he said in a calm voice, as if nothing unusual had transpired. "My name is One Liner and I'm a detective with the Canterlot Police Department's Violent Crimes Unit." He pulled a legal pad out of his coat and set it on the ground. "I need to ask you a few questions about what happened here tonight, but I'm not sure if you're ready yet." He placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. "Will you be all right?"

Derpy stared at him unblinkingly, images of the violence in the wheat fields flashing through her mind. "I don't know," she whispered.

SOON
Amethyst 3A: "Down Under"

Amethyst 3A: Down Under

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[Night of Day 30]
By the time that the fire in the Sweet Apple Acres wheat field finally burned out, nearly half the idle crop had been reduced to piles of gray ash and blackened stalks. The clouds of smoke that wafted about in the air parted before a magic force traveling through them. Twilight Sparkle and Applejack moved around the debris, guided by a pale glow emanating from Twilight's horn.

"Applejack," Twilight began in the tone of a complaint. "Do we really need to be out here? I'm sure the knights will find whatever it is Apple Bloom saw in the morning."

The farmpony in question waved her Stetson at the smoke reflexively. "Prob'ly so. Still, why would my sister find anythin' made o' wood in the middle of a wheat field? 'Scuse me if the thought of somethin' bein' where it don't belong on my farm don't sit well with me." She turned about with a smirk and pointed a hoof at her eyes. "I could always just summon Honesty, y'know. Then I'd see everythin' just fine."

Twilight shook her head in response. "We all agreed that summoning the Elements for trivial matters was a bad idea, remember? I'm surprised you're even standing this soon after using it—the magic that courses through your body when you link with the core gem is no joke."

"Well, maybe the third time's the charm," quipped Applejack as she continued to look about. "I feel right as rain."

Twilight tilted her head and offered an inquisitive gaze. "How about when you were using it?"

"I think I'm gettin' the hang o' the magic boost," said Applejack, "but that whole seein' everythin' at once deal?"

"Perfect spatial awareness," corrected Twilight.

Applejack lifted a pile of charred stalks up with a hoof, finding nothing. "Yeah, that. I'm still gettin' used to that part—feels like goin' cross-eyed n' stayin' that way." She whistled. "Even with that 'perfect spaceware' thing, I could barely keep up with weird earth pony flickerin' here n' there like a will o' wisp."

"Well, at least we know for a fact that she's using some kind of magic now." Twilight sighed and peered into the misty gloom all around. "You know, the knights weren't exactly clear on how Screw Loose even got away. Wasn't that barrier you told me about supposed to stop her from teleporting outside of it?"

"It did," said Applejack. "Stuff worked just like Granny Smith said it would—just pour it in a ditch, light a match, and nothin' magical gets through till it burns away." The untouched part of the field became visible through the smoke. "To tell the truth, I don't know how she got out, or even how Derpy n' Apple Bloom are still with us. When Screw Loose shot that big honkin' ball o' fire at the two of them, I thought I'd lost 'em for sure. But the moment it hits, there's this explosion and a blindin' flash of light. I open up my eyes a second later, and there's Derpy n' Apple Bloom, safe and sound, and a big gapin' hole in the barrier. Ole Screwy 'ported out before I even had a second t' think."

"But you said that magic can't put out fire made of anti-magic."

Applejack stopped and turned to Twilight. "I'm tellin' ya, it can't. What happened don't make a lick o' sense."

Twilight put a hoof to her chin and glanced at the ash-laden ground. "Maybe not, but it might answer another question that's been bothering me ever since this started."

"What's that?"

Twilight's gaze narrowed. "I think it's important to consider that Derpy and Apple Bloom were completely unharmed by a powerful offensive spell. Up until now, we've never had a clue as to why Derpy is being targeted, but the potential ability to deflect giant fireballs and break through anti-magic fire? That could begin to explain things . . ."

Applejack whickered. "You think Derpy did that?"

"Well, you just said that it couldn't have been Screw Loose."

Applejack processed this for a moment before shaking her head. "Derpy's just a normal pegasus pony, Twi. You took a look at her yourself."

"True," said Twilight, "but I can't detect Screw Loose's magic either. I didn't feel a thing in that hotel room even though she definitely teleported out of there seconds before."

Applejack turned about once more. "Well, this conversation just went way past my pay grade. I'm sure you n' that detective'll figure somethin' out." A slow smile crept across her face. "Speakin' of, you two seem to have gotten to know each other pretty well."

"Yeah," responded Twilight, still deep in thought. "We've worked together a few times."

"He's pretty cute, don'tcha think?"

Twilight's eyes drifted back up. "Um, I guess."

"You guess?" echoed Applejack.

"I-I mean yes," Twilight stammered. "He's a very attract-" She paused. "Handsome stallion. What are you getting at?"

Applejack continued to sift through piles of burnt vegetation. "I'm gonna take a shot in the dark here and say that you haven't noticed the way he looks at you when he thinks you ain't payin' attention."

Twilight gave a nervous laugh. The light on her horn flickered. "Come on, A.J.! You're making that up."

"Makin' things up?" Applejack asked indignantly. "Maybe you don't put much stock in this, Twi, but you're one of the prettiest mares around. I'd be worried about this Liner fella if he wasn't checkin' you out."

The light sparked and flickered once more. "Applejack! One Liner is a professional! I seriously doubt that he's-"

"A stallion?" interrupted Applejack. "Single?"

Twilight blushed heavily. "We're just working together to find Screw Loose. That's it."

Applejack backed away with a giant smile on her face. "Whatever you say, sugarc- OW!" She leaped away from where she'd stood a moment before, one hind leg held aloft. "What the hay was that?!"

Twilight rushed to her side. "Are you hurt?"

Applejack tested the limb and stood upon it once more. "Naw, somethin' just stung me over there. Think there's embers still burnin' under some o' the piles?"

The unicorn mare pushed aside the debris with her magic, her eyes growing wide at the result. "Maybe, but not this one."

Embedded in the ground before the two ponies was an object made of wood and iron. Strange glyphs on its worn surface shone with a dull prismatic glow.

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't here when we planted the field." She tilted her head. "Does it look like a door to you?"

"It does," replied Twilight. As a test, she lifted a nearby pebble and dropped it onto the object. The tiny rock bounced off on impact with a snap, revealing a shimmering force field of the same multi-hued color as the glyphs. "A locked one. Do you still have any of that anti-magic brew?"

Applejack lifted her Stetson and presented it to Twilight upside-down. "Right here."

Twilight levitated a vial of viscous orange liquid from within, uncorked it, and shook loose a single drop over the door. The force field flashed once and dispersed, leaving behind a normal door in its wake. Twilight's magic aura grabbed hold of the now unguarded object and lifted it on its creaking hinges, nearly letting it fall back to the dirt when the air from within hit her nostrils.

"Hoo-wee!" Applejack exclaimed, fanning away at the entrance with her hat. "It sure smells like Screw Loose, I can tell ya that much."

Following that pronouncement, the two friends stared down the hole in silence. A featureless stone stairway led down into darkness, accompanied only by the strong smell of sulfur and a continuous echo not unlike the sound one hears when holding a conch shell to their ear.

Transfixed by the haunting sight, Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed the trenchcoated One Liner standing right next to them.

"Huh," Liner said around the flashlight in his mouth. "That's interesting." He gave the two jittery mares an innocent glance each before pointing at the hole. "You ladies going down, or should I catch the next one?"

NEXT
Episode 06: "Imaginary Place"

Episode 06: Imaginary Place

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Coarse Thought designed by Therrizen

Young Feather Quill designed by Ponky

Edited by Cynewulf

In the cozy guest room of the Ponyville Library, a pale white glow pushed back against the all-encompassing darkness of night. At its center was the mystic necklace known as Pearl, floating over the exposed chest of the slumbering Derpy Hooves. Letters made of light danced in the air just above the surface of its gemstone as a familiar observer looked on in dismay.

"It's gone," whispered the ghostly mare who stood at Derpy's bedside. "The partition . . . it's been totally destroyed." She looked on with wide eyes for a moment or two longer before falling back into her armchair and letting out a heavy sigh. "There's no longer any room for doubt." Her violet eyes narrowed. "Amber has the Lion's Sigil. That's the only possible explanation."

The mare bowed her head and closed her eyes in thought. Even so, those thoughts soon began to spill over into words. "This is paradoxical. Screw Loose wouldn't dare take your life, yet she threw that fireball without even knowing if Amber was inside you, much less the Sigil." Her eyes opened once more. "But she had to know. That fireball was a bid for freedom, not an attack. Only a defensive reaction from the Sigil could destroy Applejack's barrier, and it could only be there if it was inside you. Screw Loose couldn't have had anything else in mind." She raised a single eyebrow. "How would anypony know all of that? Even I didn't recognize the Sigil . . ."

The mare pondered her questions in silence for a while longer before reaching a verbal conclusion. "No matter—it changes nothing. Pearl, Bonding State." The necklace floated across the room and into the ghostly mare's chest as if it were falling into a body of still water. The glow of its magic now flickered from behind the irises of the earth pony mare, as it had before. "You're in more danger than I'd at first believed," whispered the mare, genuine concern evident in her voice, "but there's only one way to undo what I've done."

The pages of the mare's giant leather-bound book flew open on the bedspread. The light from within emerged once more and wreathed about the form of the softly snoring Derpy Hooves.

"The reading is from the Lost History," intoned the monochrome mare. "First Book of Kings, Chapter 18, Verse 28." The shadow of her armchair grew longer, though the lights in the room remained the same. "Let us be attentive."

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies
"Imaginary Place"

Derpy Hooves awoke to the sound of dripping water. The air around her felt moist and tasted stale. When she opened her eyes, however, she saw the back of another pony's lids and soon realized that she wasn't in control of her breathing either. The nature of her situation dawned on her quickly.

Cross?

The response came back slow and groggy. "Is that you, little fairy?"

Cross! Derpy exclaimed, her spirit soaring. I was so worried about you, but you're alive! You're okay!

Cross coughed twice before he spoke again. "Yes to the first. As for the second . . . well, see for yourself."

Concern entered Derpy's heart when she felt the sharp pain caused by Cross's cough. That concern did not depart from her when Cross opened his eyes. The room was just as dark and dank as Derpy had imagined it, illuminated only by a faint greenish glow coming from somewhere out of sight. All four walls plus the floor and ceiling were composed of uneven stones, black as night in color and rough to the touch. Water dripped from the gaps in those stones at random locations, almost as if the entire room were submerged and leaking. Considering the lack of windows, that might very well have been the case. The only other visible feature was a barred metal door on the opposite wall.

Cross moved his forelegs, causing the chained manacles that encircled them to rattle in response. "I don't know about you, but being locked up in a place like this is a tad far from my personal definition of 'okay.'"

Where are we?

"Can't say for sure," Cross replied. "I woke up here same as you, though—if I had to guess—I'd say we're probably inside the Black Spire. The Hundred own the place, and this doesn't look like the Estate." He laughed weakly. "Cheeky bastards must like playing with fire. I do dearly hope they get what's coming to them."

Cross? asked Derpy, unsure of how to say just what was bothering her. It feels . . . different in here. Inside you, I mean.

"I imagine that I'm still on the mend from Lord Deeds's handiwork. Don't mind the pain, little fairy. 'Tis nothing that won't heal in time."

That's not what I mean. You feel . . . Derpy searched for the right word. It scared her when she found it. Empty . . . lost even.

Cross smirked. "Well I have lost, Derpy. These are some decent restraints holding me down, nothing like those rusty relics that Iron Bound thought adequate. Even if I could break free, I'd never be able to contend with nearly a hundred adversaries unarmed. And as for Deeds . . ." He breathed a heavy, painful sigh. "I'm not the type of stallion that he'd suffer to live. I believe this is where my story ends, little fairy. Even if you're here for me, I'm afraid there's not much for you to do but offer a bit of comfort for my final hours."

Cross! declared Derpy in a reproving tone.

"I know," said Silver Cross. "Not the most enjoyable task . . .or the easiest, all things considered."

I don't believe you! Remember when you thought everything was hopeless back at the canyon? Derpy huffed indignantly. If you'd died there, you would have never met Harvest or ate that awesome dinner at the Estate! You can't give up just because the going got tough again! You've gotta fight through it!

"Until what?" Cross replied. "And for how long?"

Derpy had to think on that for a moment. "U-until things get better! Until you get to those Green Pastures . . . right?"

Cross chuckled darkly. "It's been a while since somepony used that promise to give me strength. Feather certainly knows better than that."

Huh?

The imprisoned pegasus stallion sunk low, coming to rest on the bunched iron chains holding him to the floor. "You don't know what it means for there to be a Black Spire here, do you?"

Derpy tried to shake her head but soon realized the futility of the impulse. No, not really.

"Do you have time for a story, Miss Hooves?"

A vortex had appeared in Cross's thoughts. Derpy moved away from the black abyss, but found herself pulled toward it regardless. W-what kind of story? she stammered, fearful of the open maw. Cross?!

Back in the Ponyville Library's guest room, the ghostly mare recoiled from the Lost History. Shimmering sparks flew from the pages as its pure white aura began to run black and violet. The dark colors coursed through the magic stream like blood in water. The pages themselves turned back and forth in chaotic fashion, the shadowy magic tendrils drew closer to Derpy's head, and the mare at her bedside could only stare in fearful disbelief.

"W-what is this?"

A cloaked form, blacker than night, rose up beside her. A pair of luminescent violet eyes shone forth from underneath the cowl. "Hi, Sissy."

The monochrome mare yelped and fell out of her armchair, landing on the wooden floor with a dull thud. She lurched away on her back, too rattled to properly stand up. "Screw Loose!" she exclaimed when her voice caught up with her thoughts. "How did you get in here?!"

The shrouded pony sauntered around the armchair and flashed a brilliant smile beneath her reptilian eyes. She lifted a glittering object from the folds of her attire. "Same way you did."

Suspended from the silver necklace draped about Screw Loose's hoof was a pendant identical to Pearl and Amber, save for the black obsidian gem at its center. Light of the same violet hue as the cloaked pony's eyes shone from within, easily identifying itself as the source of the magic stream's corruption.

The owner of the Lost History's mouth fell open. "You found Obsidian?" Her eyes grew even wider. "Then you have the Spiral."

Screw Loose nodded briskly, allowing the pendant to fall back into the depths of her cloak. "And you said I'd never amount to anything."

The monochrome mare rose to a standing position at last, using the wall as support. "I should have guessed—there's no other way for you to know the things you do. How long have you had it? Since we met?"

Screw Loose grinned defiantly. "I'll never tell."

The monochrome mare deliberately slowed her breathing in an effort to regain composure. If Screw Loose is projecting through Obsidian, she thought to herself, then she can't remove Derpy from this room—she'd have to be here to teleport. The mare felt her heartbeat normalizing. She won't risk a fight with me either, not here at least. So . . . She regained control of her expression and glared at her opponent. "Why have you come?"

Screw Loose giggled. "I've been watching you play this little game with Derpy Hooves for a while now." She rolled her eyes. "It's the only thing on the Spiral tonight and it's boring me to tears."

Apprehension tugged at the monochrome mare, though her face showed nothing. Her enemy was too casual, too playful, even for an eccentric monster. "Go find some royal knights to play with then, unless you'd like me to alert the two standing outside."

Screw Loose whistled. "Ooh, gutsy. You'd blow your own cover just to get rid of little old me?" She turned about with a laugh and approached the Lost History. "Relax, Sissy. I was just about to leave anyway."

The mare raised an eyebrow. "You were?"

"Yep," said Screw Loose as she examined the rustling pages of the magic tome. "I've gotta spice up your lame vision-quest-thingy after all. Can't do that if I'm standin' here chattin'."

A dread realization dawned on the monochrome mare. "Wait!" she exclaimed.

"The reading is from the Lost History," declared Screw Loose. "Book of Origin, Chapter 11, Verse 1." She sneered at the mare moving to stop her. "Let us be attentive."

The cloaked intruder dissolved into a cloud of black smoke that dove into the glowing pages of the Lost History. As soon as the last wisp had vanished within, the cover snapped shut to show the shining glyphs of a magic lock on its surface. The shadowy violet aura did not fade with the book's closing—it wreathed about Derpy's sleeping form just as its white counterpart had when the book was open.

The remaining mare reached for it reflexively only to find her hoof repulsed with a loud pop. She winced at the foolish mistake, and a sense of panic began to rise within. The wrecked partition inside Derpy's mind was problem enough. Now, she'd have to try and force Screw Loose out of the Lost History. Was this an expenditure of magic that she could afford? She swallowed audibly. "There's no other choice," she declared, bolstering her resolve for the task ahead. "Screw Loose doesn't have the mental stability to control the Lost History. It's probably tearing itself apart right now. If I don't get in there, Derpy might . . ." That thought wasn't helping. "She might . . ." Her voice trailed off as she felt the keen edge of a blade against her neck.

Spike the dragon, stalwart guardian of the library, held his sword to her throat and stared at her with a mix of fear and anger. "Who are you, and how did you get in here?" he growled. The blade pressed harder. "Answer me!"

When Derpy had—with some difficulty, it must be said—finally fallen asleep that night, the last thoughts on her mind involved fear of the coming morn. She would have to live with the threat of violence hanging over her head. She would be expected to go about her business while a dangerous criminal lurked in the shadows, waiting for her guardians to slip. Derpy could scarcely imagine such an existence, but her current predicament dwarfed even those concerns.

Derpy had dreamed of Silver Cross—she could remember that much at least. She'd woken up just before falling into deep, dark hole in his mind, but not to the comforts of a warm bed. Presently, Derpy fell through the open air underneath a sunlit sky. Cold wind whipped at her mane and tail, buffeting away any sense of grogginess from her sudden awakening. She spread her wings to try and slow her rapid descent, only to hit the grass with a resounding thump in the next instant.

Amazingly, Derpy felt no great pain aside from having the wind knocked out of her. She remained flat on her back, coughed, and drew in a deep breath. The sky above was a picture of pristine beauty, its sapphire expanse unmarred by the presence of clouds. The sun in particular shone forth with a glittering prismatic splendor that warmed Derpy's chilled body even by its appearance. The pegasus mare squinted. Had the sun always looked like that? She squinted harder. Something was blocking her view—something spear-shaped.

"Stay right where you are, young lady," said a gruff voice.

Derpy pondered that instruction for a moment. The spear-shaped thing blocking out the sun was indeed a bronze-tipped spear. So were all the other pointy objects hovering about, each of them held by the ponies that had her completely surrounded. They were clad in matching sets of burnished bronze armor and stared at her with a variety of expressions, though most of them were quite serious. Derpy took another look at the razor-sharp blades and reached a conclusion. It was probably a wise idea to remain still after all.

"Wow," she said with a smile. "Y'all are really good at sneaking up on ponies. Are you royal knights?"

A whisper arose from somewhere out of sight. "Royal? What, like the Patriarch?"

An imposing earth pony stallion with a salt-and-pepper coat responded. "I'll be asking the questions here. Now, what sort of barbarian are you?"

The dangerous situation might have frightened most ponies, but Derpy felt no fear. It was the middle of a bright and sunny day, and these ponies didn't look like villains at all. Because of that, she returned an indignant frown. "That's rude! My name's Derpy Hooves, and I'm not a barber . . . thing." A look of innocent curiosity arose on her features. "At least, I don't think so."

A palomino unicorn stallion bearing a short chestnut mane snickered. "Watch yourself, Legate. She's a quick one."

The massive stallion referred to as "Legate" remained stone-faced. "If I desire your opinion, I shall ask for it, centurion." He continued to stare down at Derpy with fierce hazel eyes. "Allow me to make this easy for you, little mare. I am Hind Sight, Legate of the Fifth Legion and loyal defender of Equitopia. The hill you rest upon is part of the capital's final defensive line; it is not a place where you should be. The civilians are safely ensconced within the city walls, and you look nothing like our foes." He snorted. "If you are not a traitorous spy, then what are you?"

Derpy failed to follow most of the Legate's words, but something about the way that Hind Sight called her "little mare" sounded awfully familiar. "Um, I'm a pony . . . but Silver Cross said I'm a fairy too."

More snickering emerged from the ranks, but one pegasus stallion lowered his spear. His coat and mane bore deep shades of brown and black respectively while his pale eyes looked at Derpy in shock. "My apologies, Legate," he blurted out, composing himself quickly. "This is my doing."

With a nod from Hind Sight, the spears rose up and away. He turned his stolid gaze on the pegasus stallion. "What is the meaning of this, Silver Cross? The battlefield is a place for noble conquest, not . . ." The barest hint of a smile tugged at his grimace. "Personal conquests."

The stallion called Silver Cross flushed red with shame. "She is . . . an overzealous admirer, sir, nothing more. I shall return her to the city."

"You shall not," declared Hind Sight. He motioned for the rest of the centurions to return to their duties. "Our enemies lurk just beyond these hills—they might descend on us at any moment. I need each and every able-bodied warrior at my command, and that includes my best swordspony." Hind Sight turned about and began to march away. "Miss Derpy Hooves is your responsibility, Centurion Cross. I expect you to manage her and your post until we reach the Green Pastures, understood?"

Silver Cross returned a smart salute. "Yes, sir!"

The palomino unicorn stallion had remained in place. He leered at Derpy with a look that made her feel very uncomfortable. "Damn, Cross," he sighed. "First Purity and now rabid fangirls? I've created a monster."

Cross's eyes narrowed. "Back off, Coarse. I don't have the patience for you right now."

Coarse Thought offered a broad smile and did as he was instructed, albeit with dramatic flair. "Nod's as good as a wink, old chum. Don't be a stranger if you need any . . ." He glanced at Derpy as he passed. "Help."

Derpy rolled onto her hooves, a look of pure disbelief on her face. "Your name's Silver Cross?"

The brown pegasus stallion looked back at her with apprehension. "It is."

Derpy shook her head. "You don't look anything like him, though." She stared at his side only to find a blank area that increased her confusion. "And where's your Cutie Mark?"

A hesitant smile appeared on the stallion's face. "I don't know what Silver Cross you're used to, little fairy, but this one has a job to do." He offered a hoof to help her up. "Let's find some dinner—I make it a point never to be grilled for information on an empty stomach."

The hillside that Derpy had fallen upon turned out to be a difficult location for the pegasus mare to wrap her head around. It was one of many such hills that surrounded Equitopia, the capital of a once-great empire. The city rested at a lower elevation, contained within a roughly triangle-shaped depression that rendered the skyline invisible to the plains and forests beyond the hills. The capital's buildings reminded Derpy of Canterlot, shining brilliant white in the sun and at one with the natural geography. Meticulous waterways and lush gardens could be seen at every elevation while crisscrossing roads and bridges indicated that the city had a layered infrastructure several levels deep.

Upon the hills surrounding the capital was what the Legate had called the "final defensive line." The ten legions of Equitopia formed a wall of soldiers at the highest elevation. Barriers of wood and iron faced out to the plains and forests of the countryside beyond, both they and their makers standing ready to protect their home. For now, however, the flatlands beyond the hills seemed calm and empty, though an attack was expected to come at any moment.

"Every nation that bordered the Empire launched an invasion at the same time," explained Silver Cross as he placed a crabapple core in a nearby basket. "They'd become allies in secrecy and attacked without warning. We did our best to repel them of course, but our armies never stood a chance fighting a war on that many fronts."

Derpy Hooves sat across a small campfire from him, munching on a stick of wild celery that the foragers had gathered and listening with rapt attention.

The oddly-colored Silver Cross looked out to the sun as it neared the horizon. "The decision was made early on to pull the legions back and tighten the empire's defenses. Still, none of us imagined that we'd have the capital at our backs before the end."

Derpy tilted her head to the side. "The end?"

Cross smiled. "Our enemies attacked for a reason, you know. What do you think those are?"

He waved a hoof in the direction of an obelisk that stood at the edge of the depression, black, smooth, and geometrically perfect all the way to its pointed tip high above the white buildings. It was one of eight identical structures, each of them strongly resembling what Silver Cross—the gray-and-white Silver Cross—had called the Black Spire.

Derpy had been trying not to look at them; her head hurt whenever she did. "Why would they be afraid of Black Spires?"

Cross held his head high, proud of what he was about to say. "'Tis natural for unbelievers to fear the Experiment. It has ever been the divine cause of Equitopians to forge an earthly paradise from this broken world. When the Spires are lit mere hours from now, their holy flames will wash away our enemies and transform this land into the Green Pastures, a place where unhappiness will be naught but a memory."

Derpy struggled with an inner sense of dread brought on by Cross's proclamation. "I thought you were supposed to find the Green Pastures."

Cross stoked the campfire with a blackened twig. His expression darkened considerably. "There was a time when I tried to, little fairy. Now I fear that I may not see them at all."

"Why not?"

Cross stared into the flames wistfully. "My grandmother said that fairies only appear near the end of one's life, a final gift for a life well-lived." He snorted. "Grandmother was the only one who could see hers, but she certainly passed away soon after. I can't say that I've lived my own life well at all, yet here you are, a sure sign that the end is nigh."

Derpy's expression soured. "Don't say that. I think you've done a lot of good things, and you're not gonna die. You're the toughest guy I know!"

Cross smirked and brought a hoof to his chin. "Toughest guy you know, eh?" He paused and stared at her for a moment. "Would you like to know a thing or two?"

Derpy looked back at him quizzically.

"About my life of doing good things?"

"Yeah," Derpy replied, missing the sarcasm completely. "You never really talk about what happened before we met."

"The other me?" asked Cross.

Derpy winced. "Something like that." The future you, she thought. An earlier mental debate over just where she was and who she was speaking to had led her to the plotlines of several time travel novels she'd once read. A younger Silver Cross who was still a soldier and a bunch of Black Spires that he wasn't afraid of? That sounded like time travel to her, strange coloration or no. Derpy hadn't come up with a reason for her going back in time yet, but the explanation sounded better to her than anything else that came to mind.

Cross whickered playfully. "The ways of fairies are strange indeed. It surprises me that my past eludes your knowledge, but if you wish it, I can remedy that." He placed a hoof on the bronze helmet at his side and watched the sun touch the tip of a far-off mountain. "I was born right here in the capital to a small family of just my father, mother, and grandmother. My father died before I was two seasons of age, killed in a border skirmish as a loyal soldier of the empire. I can't even remember his face. Grandmother died about a year later, and my mother disappeared soon afterward. Somepony once mentioned something about the stress of raising a child on her own, but I never saw it coming. A state orphanage took me in and sent me to school. That's where I first heard about the Green Pastures . . ."

Derpy's vision began to blur as Cross told his story. She blinked several times to clear it, but found herself looking at something that couldn't possibly have been before her.

[Temple of the Forefathers - Seventeen Seasons Ago]
An elderly earth pony stallion bearing a thick white mustache underneath a pair of large round spectacles paced back and forth in front of a blackboard at the front of the room, the various colors cast by the stained glass windows at the back playing across his features with every step. "The Green Pastures of the Tome are easy to mock. Who could imagine a paradise on Earth? Who can believe in a place where nopony will ever cry again? Indeed, it is hard to believe that such a place exists. Even so, since the time of the founding, Equitopians have believed not that it must be found, but that through adherence to the wisdom of our sacred Tome, it can be made." He pointed a hoof at the colts and fillies sitting behind rows of joined wooden desks. "Do you remember, children, the tale of Hearth's Warming Eve?"
"Yes, Mister Scroll," answered the students.
Dusty Scroll began to tell the tale he'd spoken of, seemingly ignorant of the affirmative response, but the children listened anyway since they always preferred a story to a lecture. There were, however, a few exceptions.
A unicorn filly with a bay coat and white mane winced in pain. Somepony had pulled on one of her pigtails . . . again. She turned about to find the culprit, a stocky earth pony colt, looking straight at the blackboard, his face the very picture of attentiveness.
The filly gave the colt an angry glare. "I know it's you," she whispered. "Stop it."
The auburn colt didn't take his eyes off the front of the room. "Stop what?"
The filly felt her throat tighten up. She knew that she couldn't prove anything if she told the teacher, and confrontation wasn't exactly her strong suit in the first place. "You know what," she shot back before turning back to her desk.
Not two seconds passed before she felt it, a sharp painful tug on her other pigtail. Tears welled in her eyes. What could she do? This bully wasn't scared of her or the teacher. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She even heard him snickering at her for not turning around this time.
"Stupid hornmonger," said the colt.
"Hey," whispered another colt, this one a brown-and-black pegasus. He turned from his position next to the distressed filly and raised an eyebrow at her assailant. "Is that fun?"
The auburn colt looked him in the eye with an arrogant smirk. "What do you care, featherbrain?"
The pegasus colt responded with lightning quickness, pulling the quill pen from his desk and stabbing it into the offender's hoof. The would-be bully yelped in pain while the pegasus colt threw a quick smirk his way before turning back to the blackboard. "Just curious," he quipped.
The auburn colt forgot himself and stood up from his desk shouting, "Why I oughta—"
"Mister Fields!"
The earth pony colt twitched upon hearing his name. "Y-yes, Mister Scroll?"
Dusty Scroll stared down his muzzle at the miscreant from the front of the room. "Is there a problem here, young sir?"
The brown-and-black pegasus colt raised his hoof. "Actually, Mister Scroll, he just stole my pen."
The auburn colt froze. He'd been in the middle of pulling the pen out of his hoof and now stood there with the object between his teeth.
His accuser radiated solemn innocence. "He's been making fun of your mustache this whole time too, Mister Scroll. I think he should go to the headmaster's office."
Fields sputtered incoherently. "N-no I . . . You filthy—"
"Mister Fields," interrupted Dusty Scroll. "You can either march down to the headmaster's office and explain yourself or take a whooping from my cane in front of your classmates. Your choice."
Giggles coursed through the classroom as the sullen auburn colt made his way to the door. The filly he'd been pestering stared in shock at the pegasus colt, who already wore a look of studious attention as if nothing had happened.
"Thank you," she whispered as Dusty Scroll resumed the tale.
Only the pegasus colt's gray eyes turned to her. "No problem. He was annoying, and I really like this story."
The filly blushed and returned his gaze with her own green eyes. "My name's Feather Quill."
"Silver Cross," said the pegasus colt with a cocky grin. "Hoof-stabbing extraordinaire at your service."

"Miss Hooves?"

Derpy blinked and found herself once again sitting across the campfire from Silver Cross.

The pegasus stallion leaned forward. "Are you quite all right? You've been listening this whole time without saying one word."

Derpy glanced at the sun which had dipped a bit lower on the horizon. "I was there."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I could see what you were talking about," said Derpy. She recalled this sort of thing happening before with Applejack, but it hadn't been anywhere near as vivid or complete. "It was like I was standing there watching it happen."

Silver Cross whistled. "Truly? And here I was lamenting the absence of a bard."

Derpy Hooves giggled.

Cross stoked the fire and smiled. "Oh come now. That was barely even chortle-worthy."

Derpy waved a hoof. "No, it's just . . . I never thought that you and Feather would be so cute together."

The flames reflected brightly in the almost colorless eyes of Silver Cross. "She was my first real chum, and the daughter of a Legate as it turned out." His smile faded a bit. "A stallion among stallions that one, he took me under his wing and very nearly made me a part of the family. Those were good times."

The statement reminded Derpy of the turn her own life had taken after moving into the library, before she had to worry about Screw Loose.

Cross stared directly into the fire as he continued. "A few seasons later, he returned home from a campaign in the north stricken with an incurable illness. Feather and I had to watch as this mighty warrior, a stallion I'd come to idolize who'd slain scores of battle-hardened foes in the course of his lifetime, fell by the hand of an invisible enemy. That stallion deserved a better fate and Feather deserved to grow up with her father at her side, but it was not to be . . . not in this broken world."

[Florentine Aqueduct - Twelve Seasons Ago]
The high arches of the Florentine Aqueduct towered above the capital of Equitopia, running straight through the northern half of the city before terminating in a series of distribution channels at its center. Feather Quill sat on the marble edge of the lower channel, looking out over the metropolis bathed in moonlight. Tiny orange torches dotted the darkness here and there, looking for all the world like a cloud of fireflies drifting about on a summer evening breeze. Water lapped gently against the sides of the channel behind her, disguising the hoofsteps of an approaching pegasus colt.
Silver Cross sat beside her in silence, staring off at the lights of the city same as she. Minutes passed before he decided to speak. "'Twas a good sendoff they gave him. Nearly the whole city turned out to pay respects."
"Doesn't matter," said Feather Quill. Her horn shimmered as she spoke, evidence of a lack of inner composure. "Dad's gone, and there's nothing they can do about it."
Cross sighed. "But they did want to, Feather. All of Equitopia grieved with you today, and I know they'll stand by you in the days ahead." Cross stiffened as he saw a tear roll down Feather's cheek. Truthfully, he was repeating things he'd heard her father's friends say at the funeral. Cross himself felt just as lost, sad, and angry as his friend at what had come to pass, but believed that it was his responsibility to make things right. Unfortunately, he hadn't the slightest idea how.
"What am I gonna do, Cross?" Feather sobbed, tears streaming freely from her emerald eyes. "Everypony's looking at me now, saying that I need to 'honor his memory' and 'live a life that would make him proud.'" She shuddered visibly. "And all I want is for him to hold me just one more time, to tell me everything will be all right." She shook the tears from her face and turned away. "It won't be! And even if it is, Dad won't be here to see it!"
Her words numbed Silver Cross to the core. He felt hollow, weak, and helpless in the face of his friend's sorrow. He was mad at himself besides, for being nothing but a colt like any other with only words at his disposal to confront feelings that were far beyond their reach. However, a tiny flame burned in his heart. Watching Feather's suffering over the past few months had sparked it, and the fire caught at last when he heard the eulogy given for this stallion that had been a father to them both. He'd realized then that no speech, no matter how impassioned, could be a fitting farewell for the passing of a hero. There was only one thing that he could think to do, and Feather's tears pushed away the last of his hesitation.
Cross rose to his hooves, walked to Feather's side, and wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest. She cried harder as he did so, but made no attempt to pull away. "Everything will be okay," Cross said with as much certainty as he could muster. "I'll make sure of it, even if I have to go away for a while."
"W-what?" Feather managed between sobs.
"I'll make the arrangements in the morning to have one of your father's friends take you in. After that, I'm signing up with the legion." Cross fought back against his own trepidation at the thought and soldiered on. "They'll send me abroad for field training before the week is out. Actually, it might be a few seasons before we see each other again." He looked down into her questioning eyes with utter seriousness. "But I will inherit the legacy your father left behind. I won't allow his death to be meaningless, and I will become every bit as great as he once was . . . no, even greater. So . . . " Cross couldn't avoid tearing up himself as he stared at Feather's glistening face. "Don't feel bad anymore, Feather. Just live your life the way you want to, and one day I'll be back to live it right by your side."
Feather seemed overwhelmed by his words, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. However, a moment later, she pressed herself close to him and wrapped her arms around his back, weeping softly into the fur of his chest. Cross held her in return and the feelings of weakness and hopelessness that had plagued him just moments earlier vanished from his heart. In that moment, he knew that he was himself. In that moment, though he had not the words to describe it, he knew that he loved her.

Derpy's face flushed bright red as Cross continued his story. She'd never even imagined that her companion felt that way about Feather Quill. In fact, if his future self still held those feelings at all, he hid them very well. That thought brought on a slew of other questions. If these two were so close in the past, what happened to make Feather so acerbic toward him in the future? For that matter . . .

"Where is Feather anyway?" Derpy wondered aloud.

"In the Legate's tent, most likely."

Derpy cocked her head to the side. "Huh? Why isn't she here with us?"

Cross looked up from the fire as if hearing Derpy for the first time. "I never promised a happy ending, little fairy. You see, the day of her father's funeral was the day I decided on my purpose in life, and I pursued it like a stallion gone mad. I spent my recruit phase under the instruction of Hind Sight, who wasn't a legate then. To this day I think only an officer as patient and stern as he was could have fashioned me into a proper soldier. Thanks to him, I made centurion in just two seasons, earning a reputation as a prodigy of the blade along the way. Even so, it was some time before my unit returned to the capital. I didn't see Feather Quill again for another year-and-a-half. We were recalled after our commanding officer died in battle against a griffin scouting party. The word at the time was that Hind Sight, who transferred soon after my training was complete, had not only become a legate, but would be taking personal command of the Fifth Legion."

Derpy felt another vision coming on as she listened to Cross, but she began to feel nauseous and lightheaded. One of her eyes drifted to the setting sun on the horizon and noticed celestial object blink out of existence for a moment before reappearing in the next. Cross continued with his story, apparently unaware that anything strange had taken place. Derpy felt a chill run through her body. What if this isn't time travel? she thought. Am I going crazy?

From the viewpoint of the two creatures standing in the Ponyville Library's guest room, only a few seconds had passed.

"Well?" growled Spike, still holding his sword to the monchrome mare's throat. "Out with it!"

The panic in the mare's face drained away, leaving only despondence in its wake. "I'm sorry, Spike." Her eyes flashed pure white for only a moment, but it was enough.

Spike stepped back as if he'd been punched in the face, dropping his sword in the process. His eyes rolled around in their sockets before he groaned and toppled over with a muffled thump.

The mare regarded the newly-unconscious dragon and sighed. "I hate taking the memories of others, but I can't have you knowing about me just yet." She whirled back on the locked Lost History and thrust out her chest. "Pearl, assume Servant State."

The silver necklace and it's smooth white pendant emerged from her body and hovered in midair. "READY," it said in its quiet feminine tone.

"Release magic lock on Icon," she whispered. "Employ Obsidian countermeasures."

"WORKING," said Pearl as it hovered over the Lost History.

The mare walked further up the bedside and placed an ear close to Derpy's chest. "Estimated time to completion?"

"UNKNOWN. LOCK STRUCTURE INCONSISTENT WITH OBSIDIAN SIMULATION DATA."

The mare listened intently and realized that Derpy's heartbeat had become erratic. Her own heart skipped a beat in response. "I don't care how you do it, Pearl, but do it fast!"

[The Forum - Six Seasons Ago]
On the eastern edge of Equitopia's capital city rested the Forum, a giant circular plaza of paved travertine surrounded by massive colonnades four columns deep. At midday, the area was packed with shoppers perusing the stores betwixt the innumerable columns, open-air vendors who may or may not have had permits, and orators who preached the gospel of the Sacred Tome or argued about its particulars in equal measure.
A finely-groomed Silver Cross stood in the shade of the colonnades near a cafe prized for its casual atmosphere. He'd grown into a fine stallion in his time away. Wiry muscle rippled across his rugged features, his long black mane and tail swayed in the breeze, and his stance remained at the crossroads between relaxation and readiness at all times. The golden laurel of a centurion adorned his head, shining not quite as brightly as his expectant smile. Today was the day, after all.
"I'd settle in for a long wait, Cross," said a voice from outside his field of view.
Cross turned about to see the palomino unicorn stallion named Coarse Thought sitting at one of the ornate stone tables.
The unicorn waved a joking salute. "I don't care who you're waiting for—nopony's going to recognize you with that smile on your face."
Silver Cross returned the jest with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you have other ponies to bother, centurion? I've never seen you wanting for company."
Coarse Thought bounced out of his seat, ran a hoof through his chestnut mane, and offered a roguish grin. "I am shocked that you think I'm here to rain on your parade, old chum. D'you have any idea how long we've been marchin' around the countryside together?" He gave his well-groomed companion a playful punch. "I'm here to show some support for my main stallion on his big day! Now what's so wrong with that?"
Silver Cross's eyebrow never faltered. "You just want to know who it is that I'm meeting."
"That's where you're wrong, bucko," replied Coarse Thought. "I couldn't care less who she is, but I've got to see the mare that can turn the head of Cross the Markless." Silver Cross glared at him, causing Coarse to cough nervously. "Sorry about that, chum. Bad habit. Still, I never thought I'd meet a blankflank hailed as the best swordsman in Equitopia, much less serve in the same unit with him. D'you think your girl's into that sort of thing?"
Cross motioned with his head toward the crowd. "Why don't you ask her?"
A vision of beauty advanced toward them, a unicorn mare with a coat of deep orange and a shimmering white mane. Her green eyes were of a shade so strong that they could be seen even at this distance. Her graceful gait radiated an air of refinement laced with the barest hint of sensuality.
Cross's wings shuffled nervously as his smile grew helplessly wide. "That's Feather Quill, I'm sure of it."
"That's who?" exclaimed Coarse Thought. His expression jumped straight from amusement to horror. "Oh crap."
Cross gave his "chum" a reproving look. "Is there a problem?"
Coarse looked into Cross's eyes and flashed a smile that looked terribly fake. "No! No, why would there be?" He began to back away. "I've got to . . . uh, there's a . . . um . . ." He let out a faux cough. "Excuse me."
Cross barely had time to think about his rapidly departing compatriot before hearing his name called by the sweetest voice he'd ever known.
"Cross? Silver Cross, is that really you?"
Cross turned around to stare directly into Feather Quill's radiant emerald orbs. It was a good thing that he'd prepared himself for this moment—seeing the object of his affections after so long would have stolen his breath away otherwise. He allowed his joy to escape only in a warm smile as he announced, "'Tis I, fair lady. And you—OOF!"
Feather Quill interrupted him with a giddy squeal and threw her arms around his neck. "Good Lord, it is you! It's been so long, I was afraid I wouldn't recognize you!"
His childhood friend's perfume carried the brisk airy scent of Lunar Tear flowers, and the warmth of her sudden embrace made the last six seasons feel like a fleeting dream. Cross was about to return the gesture when she pulled away and gave a playful bat of her eyelashes.
"You do remember me, right?"
Cross barely stopped himself from laughing. "Of course I do, Feather. I'm the one who sent for you in the first place, which was not the easiest of tasks." Seeing obvious confusion on Feather's face, he elaborated. "It's been more than a year since you stopped responding to my letters. I had to send a singing telegram just to get your attention."
Feather giggled. "That did seem weird even for you, Cross, but your letters stopped coming. If you were still sending them then . . ." She put a hoof to her chin in thought, but the answer she found brought obvious displeasure to her expression. "He must have thrown them out with the junk mail." Feather huffed. "I'll have to have a word with him when I get back."
"Him?" asked Silver Cross. The word disturbed him in this context, as did Feather's glib response to a year of missed letters.
Feather Quill waved a dismissive hoof. "Oh, nothing you need to worry about. Is this the cafe you wanted to try?"
Cross nodded.
"Seems nice," commented Feather as she walked toward it. "Well come on then, slowpoke. I don't have much time before my next appointment and we've got a lot of catching up to do."
~
Coarse Thought waited in the colonnade for all of the 15 minutes it took for Feather Quill to leave at a brisk trot. He grimaced. This kind of situation wasn't his cup of tea, but he couldn't leave a fellow centurion hanging. When Silver Cross exited the cafe, he stepped boldly forward. "So, how'd it go?"
Cross shook his head. His wandering eyes and wavering mouth were textbook signs of confusion. "She didn't remember. I mean, she remembered who I am but . . ." He caught himself and gave Coarse a sour look. "What do you care anyway?"
Coarse Thought laid a solemn hoof on the bewildered stallion's shoulder. "Cross, my friend, you should have told us who she was. Anypony in the unit could've warned you."
Cross's expression waxed uncertain. "Warned me about what?"
"You know how your old pal Hind Sight is taking command of the Fifth tomorrow?"
Cross nodded.
"Well Miss Feather Quill is our new scribe. You know, the pony who writes down all our splendiferous deeds?"
"I know," Cross replied. "She told me as much."
"Did she tell you she's sleeping with the Legate?"
Cross's mouth fell open. "Y-you mean Hind Sight?"
Coarse gave his comrade's shoulder a sympathetic pat. "It's worse than that, but like a good solid arrow wound I suppose it's best to get it all out at once." He gave Cross the most serious expression that he'd ever managed. "She's his adoptive daughter too."
Cross backed away and smiled half-heartedly. "You're joking. I left her with a friend of her father's. That can't be right."
Coarse shrugged. "Her father's friends have got friends of their own, you know. Now I don't have the whole story, but the scuttlebutt is he took her in pretty young. In fact, it would've been right around the same time that he transferred out of the Fifth." He sighed heavily. "I hate to break it to you this way, Cross, but rumors about those two have been flyin' around for a couple of months now. If you'd spend less time training and a little more time with your jolly old messmates you'd have already heard."
Cross could only stare at his comrade in disbelief. He wanted to latch onto the fact that this was all rumor, but he knew in his heart that it explained Feather's attitude perfectly. That same heart sunk low with the realization, and even in the familiar arches of the Forum, Cross suddenly felt completely lost.
Coarse put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "All right, come on, chum. Like any honest field medic would say, I can't cure you, but I know a way to dull the pain. The pubs are ready to receive thy woes and I shall not let you drink alone."
Cross allowed himself to be pulled along by the earnest but misguided stallion, all the while wondering why the sun didn't seem as bright in its cloudless sky.

Derpy Hooves looked at Silver Cross with watery eyes as the campfire burned low. "I don't believe it. She forgot your promise?"

Cross shrugged and stared off toward the fiery red colors of the setting sun. "I was a fool to think that it meant the same to her as it did to me. Feather never wanted me to live up to any sort of legacy, she just wanted somepony to be there for her. I wasn't, so she found somepony else."

Derpy's feeling of nausea intensified. "But your teacher? Her . . . kinda-sorta dad?"

"Oh I was hurt, little fairy—don't get me wrong," said Silver Cross. "But Feather was happy. From the time she began serving in our unit right up till today, I've never seen a happier mare in my life. Who am I to pass judgment? I set out to return a smile to her face and that's what happened. It's just that I wasn't the one responsible."

He turned to Derpy with a casual smile. "Of course, as a soldier I was expected to suck it up and carry on. So I did. I threw myself into my duties, determined to make a name for myself as one of the greatest soldiers who ever lived. And I kept at it, hoping that somehow, someday Feather would change her mind. I hoped that every time I saw the Legate's arm around her shoulders. I hoped that every time she called me by a foalhood nickname and then did the same for the next centurion she passed." He gave a snort and looked into the receding flames. "I hoped that every time I passed by their tent on night patrol and couldn't get the sounds of their lovemaking out of my head."

Derpy shuffled her hooves. "I . . . I don't know what to say, Cross. That sounds horrible."

"Oh, it wasn't as bad as all that," Cross replied. "I still had my integrity after all. My heart loved only one mare, and I lived my life by the commandments of the Tome. It was a great comfort, so much that I believed it was all I would really need." His smile faded. "I had no idea how far out of its way this world would go to pull one of its enemies down."

Derpy opened her mouth but stopped short of speaking. The grass was blowing against the wind. A nearby tree had different kinds of fruit on the same plant. The celery stalk she'd eaten earlier was whole again and at her side. Cross's ominous statement was foreboding enough, but the impossible changes in the environment were making her very afraid.

"It happened on the night that Hind Sight and Feather announced their engagement," Cross continued, oblivious to his companion's discomfort. "I did a poor job of hiding my depression at the news, which of course prompted Coarse Thought to think he had a friend in need. He invited me to a tavern that same evening to meet another friend of his, an earth pony mare named Purity. I knew what Coarse was trying to do, but I went along with it out of respect for the kind gesture." He shook his head. "I just wish I'd known that he paid a prostitute—who just happened to be his childhood friend—to make that gesture."

[The Aquarius Tavern - Two Seasons Ago]
Silver Cross marched out the curtained entryway of a tavern on the outskirts of the Equitopian capital, his feathers ruffled and teeth gritted in righteous indignation. "How dare he," the pegasus stallion seethed, unable to contain his thoughts as he made for a nearby alleyway. "How could he sit there and act like the Vow of Preservation carries no weight with me? Coarse is the one soldier in the entire centuria who should know better!" Cross stopped amidst the tall buildings that rose in dark columns on all sides, his position faintly illuminated by the flickering candlelight of an aging streetlamp. His legs shook and he felt hot even in the cold night air. The sensation worried him greatly. Coarse's prodding was to be expected, however extreme it had proven tonight. Something else was eating at him, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Mister Cross!"
Silver Cross turned to see that the earth pony mare named Purity had followed him into the alleyway. The luscious tresses of her stylized mane tossed about on her shoulders as she ran, their pink and crimson colors contrasting sharply with her cream coat even in the dim light. Her gorgeous body deftly straddled the line between athletic and voluptuous while her eyes, resembling nothing more than a pair of glittering amethyst gems, looked straight into Cross's as she caught up to him.
When she spoke, her voice carried the cadence of a country-born noblewoman, equal parts rustic and refined. "Why the sudden departure, centurion? Coarse said you could use some company tonight."
Cross snorted and turned his head away. "I've no need for your services, madam. Even if I did, I'd seek them myself—I've no need of thoughtless intermediaries either."
Normally, a woman of the lower class would heed the wishes of a soldier. Thus, it surprised Cross when Purity sauntered back into his field of vision, her gaze never leaving his. "Now listen here a minute," said she, her expression one of stern reproval. "You're right about Coarse—he did offer payment for this evening, and he's an oaf besides." She lifted her fine-featured head and actually looked down at Cross. "But I refused to take it. I'm here as the friend he promised you—anythin' else I get up to is my own decision."
Cross stepped back. The feeling of heat was stronger now, but he did his best to ignore it. "Be that as it may, you'll not be 'getting up' to anything tonight, Miss Purity. As a follower of the Sacred Tome, I hold myself to a higher standard."
"So I've noticed," Purity replied, closing the distance he'd gained with confident stride. "Coarse underestimates you, just as you underestimate me."
Cross's buttocks touched the wall, forcing him to stop lest he assume an undignified position. He felt embarrassment at the show of cowardice and chose to express it as anger. "I don't see how. You're a whore. You sell your body—a sacred treasure—for monetary gain when it should rightfully belong to your chosen husband. About which part of that am I mistaken?"
A smile played on Purity's full lips. "Oh, you're pretty much right on all counts, sugar." She raised a hoof to his chest. "Now that you've told us what we both know, how do you think I feel about that?"
It had been years since another pony touched Cross there who wasn't punching him. He lost himself in her soft touch for a moment before stammering, "H-how you feel?"
"Well I'm the one who chose to live this way, aren't I? Do I look like a lowborn to you?"
Cross shook his head, unsure of how to deal with the beautiful mare's actions. "N-not in the least, madam."
Purity continued her exploration of Cross's form by tracing the muscles of his upper arm. "It's said that mine is the oldest profession. Do you know why that might be?" The question was rhetorical. She gave Cross no time to respond. "Ladies of the evening exist because there's a need for us, centurion. There always has been and always will be." She pressed against Cross's left bicep with gentle force. "Are you going to tell me that you're not a stallion in need?"
Everything in Silver Cross's moral code instructed him to flee from this situation, but Purity had managed to pique his interest. He'd never imagined that such a mare could be this well-spoken, and his logical mind wanted to know what sort of point she was making. The rest of his body certainly didn't mind the attention either. "I have a feeling I'd be insulting your intelligence if I said that I lack the same desires that torment the hearts of lesser men. Even so, I pride myself on controlling them."
Purity removed her hoof and looked at Cross with serious eyes. "Coarse told me what happened today. How much of that perfect control of yours rested on your hopes for Feather Quill?"
Cross chafed at the mention of Feather's name. He felt a sense of mild betrayal at the thought of this mare knowing his secret, but more than that it simply hurt. The conscious thought of Feather marrying another stallion cut through to his isolated heart like a meat cleaver, crude but effective. He lowered his ears. "I'm not looking for pity."
Purity gave a coquettish tilt of her head. "Does a doctor pity her patient, or does she heal him?"
Cross opened his mouth to respond but found himself cut off as Purity stepped forward and nuzzled his neck.
"Does a priest pity his charges, or does he offer them comfort and rest?"
Cross's inhibitions were melting before her touch, but nothing about the sultry mare's tone had changed at all. He knew it in a way that scared him. He knew it in a way that excited him.
"Does a mare who sells her sacred treasure leave behind the desire to give it to a stallion truly deserving of her?"
He knew that between the two of them, she was the one in control.
Purity nibbled daintly on his ear and whispered into it, "Do you desire me, Silver Cross?"
A savage voice answered inside him, making his lips press against hers.
That voice answered, Yes.

The evening sun set lower on the horizon, only a sliver of its golden majesty still visible against the rapidly-descending night. Derpy Hooves breathed heavily, her eyes wide in astonishment.

Silver Cross stared right back at her from the other side of the campfire's smoldering embers. His displeasure made itself plain in his half-lidded eyes and tight-lipped frown. "You saw that too, did you?"

"Purity wanted to do something nice for you," Derpy gasped. Her mind was reeling from a brush with Cross's innermost thoughts, laid bare by Purity's advances. Whatever connection enabled these visions was growing stronger. "But you felt . . . you felt . . ." Derpy couldn't believe the word that leapt to the forefront of her thoughts, but voiced it anyway. "Hollow."

Cross toyed with his sword and scabbard, rocking the weapon back and forth on its tip as he spoke. "For a moment's respite, for carnal pleasure, I gave up all that was left of me. By doing something that means so little to so many, I violated myself to the core and condemned my future to life as a living blade. The world had victory over me, and what's worse . . ." He stared at pommel stone with cold, angry eyes. "I delighted in it."

Those words made the situation crystal-clear to Derpy Hooves. The way Cross felt and the reasons why were familiar to her. She regained composure, finally able to reduce the cyclone of chaotic thought to a few simple words. "You hate yourself," she whispered. "And not just 'cause you made a mistake." An image of her old apartment flashed through her mind. "You hate everything you are."

"Perhaps," Cross droned as his eyes followed the sword. A smile crossed his sullen features. "But it hardly matters now. Behold." He waved a hoof toward the city.

In the darkness of nightfall, the Black Spires surrounding the capital glowed with a faint violet light. As the sky grew dimmer, the glow replaced the sun, turning the city and all that surrounded it into purple silhouettes on a ever-blacker canvas.

Derpy felt her heart gripped by fear, as if a predator were about to swallow her whole. "Why are they doing that?"

Cross stood up from his seat, one hoof still resting on the hilt of his upright sword. "The Spires are magic beacons, the means by which Equitopia shall reshape the world. Every generation of our people from one to the next dedicated their lives to their improvement and refinement, all for this day." His smile was genuine, as was the pride in his voice. "That light means that the fires within them have been lit. At any moment, a roaring blaze will catch and the old world will burn away, leaving nothing but perfection in its wake." He turned to Derpy. "You and I will soon be standing in the midst of the Tome's promised land, the Green Pastures."

Derpy couldn't believe what she was hearing. This didn't sound like the Cross she knew. "You think these weird towers will fix you? That they'll make things okay between you and Feather?"

"Of course they will, little fairy. There is no unhappiness in paradise, and that includes my own." Cross laughed. "It seems I was wrong about you, Miss Hooves. You're not here for my demise." His wings spread wide. "You're here for the world's."

The wind picked up, blowing grass, manes, and tails about as it gained speed. The light of the Spires began to swirl about the capital, forming a cyclone of magic energy in just a few seconds time. Ponies all across the defensive line laid down their arms and began to cheer. Some jumped for joy, others embraced, and still others ran to and fro, wanting to be with those close to them as the moment of truth drew near.

"Cross!" shouted Coarse Thought as he ran to their position. The unicorn stallion stopped just short of running into them, breathless with excitement. "Can you believe this? We're living the dream of all our moms and pops, all the way back to the founding! This is really happening! We made it, chum!"

Cross turned to the horizon and shouted above the wind. "Do you see this, enemies of paradise?! Do you laugh now, here at the end?! We have beaten you and the world you love so much! Bear witness to the birth of a new world, the world we rightly deserve!"

As Derpy looked on, the whirlwind of violet light compressed inward. Tighter and tighter the cylinder grew as it neared the city center, ending in a tiny ball directly above the Florentine Aqueduct that shone like a second sun. Derpy shut her eyes, unable to watch.

"VICTORY!" shouted the masses.

OMMMMM

The noise was loud, louder than any thunderclap Derpy had ever heard. It hit with physical force, shaking the earth and knocking everypony to the ground. When Derpy opened her eyes, she saw nothing at first. The grass was still beneath her hooves, but the ball of light had disappeared, leaving total darkness in its wake. What next appeared in this black void was fire. An otherworldly flame of stark crimson spread from the city's center, coursing its way through the many layers of roads and terraces as water spills forth from a broken dam. Only seconds passed before the entire capital was wreathed in its embrace.

Cross rose to his hooves, a look of euphoric glee on his face. "A new world is being born before our very eyes," he gasped. "It's . . . I can't believe how beautiful . . ."

Then came another sound, faint and unrecognizable at first. Derpy strained her ears to get some idea of what she was hearing. Upon success, she immediately wished she hadn't. It was not one noise—it was many. They were hearing a chorus of screams, a wailing choir of shrieking souls. Derpy could see them now, the shadows of ponies burning in the streets. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Her stomach turned in on itself at the hellish sight, causing her to double over in pain.

"H-have no fear, little fairy," said Cross, uncertainty having replaced the pride in his tone. "The s-spell is running its course. Just another moment or two and . . . and . . ."

Derpy saw it for only the moment that Cross had mentioned, a black ball of swirling liquid rising up from the aqueduct. With an earth-shattering CRACK it expanded, covering the city and snuffing out the flames in less than a second. It spread onward regardless of what stood in its way, forming an obsidian tidal wave that rushed out from the capital in all directions. Nopony even had time to brace themselves. Derpy cowered in fear as the wall of black water washed over her and everything within reach, but found that she had no trouble standing in its midst. Though it appeared to be water, the substance had little mass, and its passing had all the impact of a strong drizzle. Derpy felt next to nothing in its presence, but Silver Cross and his compatriots were another matter.

Derpy watched in astonishment as the color drained from their bodies. Reds and blues. Greens and oranges. Every shade of color washed away from the Equitopians, leaving only white, black, and gray in their wake. By the time that the wave had finally passed, the only color that remained was in the irises of their eyes—they had all turned red.

Silver Cross stared at his gray coat and white mane in the flickering torchlight, turning about in place as he did so. "What . . . what is this?!" he shouted, though the sound was lost among the nearly identical panicked cries coming from all around.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be!"

"Where's the city? I can't see it!"

"I feel sick! Oh Lord, I'm gonna throw up!"

That last exclamation wasn't unique. Derpy and Cross watched in horror as monochrome ponies all around them began vomiting, but what came out wasn't the contents of their stomachs. Black sludge, very much like what had just washed over them, spilled forth from mouths howling in pain.

Coarse Thought was one of them. He reached out with a shaking hoof and gurgled around the viscous ooze splashing from his lips. "H-help! Help me, Cross!"

Silver Cross backed away slowly. His own mouth had fallen open in sheer terror, but nothing issued forth from it.

The black sludge kept coming, each pony disgorging more than could have possibly fit in their stomachs. The vile material did not rest on the ground where it fell. It reached out with thick oily tendrils, latching onto the colorless bodies from whence it came. It covered them inch by squelching inch, forming a second repulsive skin as it seemed to devour its victims. Derpy recognized it now. This was the very same substance that had been leaking from the bodies of the timber wolves at Sweet Apple Acres.

The shrieks of torment reached a fever pitch. One by one, the red eyes of the consumed ponies burst into gouts of crimson flame. The effect was taking place all over the final defensive line, evidenced by a circle of red lights several miles in diameter that now surrounded the lifeless city. After several seconds had passed, the fires burned low. However, they did not die out.

Derpy looked at what remained of the Equitopian legions, frozen stiff in absolute terror. Their bodies slumped forward for a moment, red flames flickering from their eye sockets. When the newly-formed creatures stood up straight, they only vaguely resembled what they'd been just a short time ago. The shambling four-legged monstrosities now seemed composed of nothing but the black sludge. Gaping maws with jagged teeth opened and closed in places where they shouldn't have been. Sheer white claws and crooked blades pushed through their liquid flesh at impossible angles. As for their dispositions, they did not simply look hungry. They were the very embodiment of hunger.

In the distance, Derpy saw one of the abominations dive on a surviving pony, engulfing the poor creature fully before it even had a chance to scream. "Cross?" she managed with a tension-locked jaw. "Cross, we have to run! They're gonna kill us!"

Silver Cross stood stock still, his eyes fixed on the transformed Coarse Thought, who was now identical to the rest. "They failed," he whispered, watching the myriad mouths on the surface of Coarse's slick skin snap at thin air. "We all failed."

"Cross!" Derpy shouted, wanting very much to snap him out of his daze but unwilling to move an inch closer to the writhing sludge-beast. It did her no good. What had once been the unicorn named Coarse Thought turned toward her and advanced with alarming speed.

Cross stared at the sheathed sword on the ground before him, his eyes wide and face blank. "The Green Pastures were never . . ."

Derpy Hooves realized that she was in danger and very much alone. The frightened pegasus mare turned to run, but she wasn't fast enough. A black tentacle lashed out from Coarse Thought and snared her hind leg. It pulled hard, slamming her body to the ground and dragging her back to its grisly embrace. Derpy didn't even feel the impact. Every nerve in her body had gone numb with panic. She rolled to her back and dug in her other hooves, but the creature loomed ever larger. Its dripping mouths opened wide for their first meal. And suddenly, they were gone.

Coarse Thought vanished in a cloud of black vapor, cloven from existence by a luminescent crimson blade. Silver Cross stood where the creature had been. A sword possessed of faint red light rested in his powerful jaw. His eyes shone with barely-contained magic power. "I'm sorry, friend," he whispered around the leather-wrapped hilt.

Derpy stared at the heroic image before her, mouth open in surprise. "Cross?"

Silver Cross planted his sword in the dirt as a mass feeding began all around them. "I think I understand now," he said, his tone unwavering. "It was never any more complicated than this." He offered a hoof to help Derpy up. "Fly as far from here as you can, little fairy. There's nothing left for you to see."

"What are you going to do?" asked Derpy.

Cross's expression grew resolute. A Cutie Mark flashed into existence on his flank, a silver cross-shaped sword in the midst of a whirlwind just as Derpy remembered. "I'm going to find Feather Quill," he said. "And if she yet lives, I'll protect her at any cost." With that, he pulled the crimson sword from the earth and charged into the horde of sludge-beasts, a single light of hope in the thundering darkness.

The thought of leaving Cross to his fate seemed wrong to Derpy, but she knew for sure that she couldn't keep up with him. She immediately ran from the remaining torchlights, passed numerous distracted monsters, and made for the flatlands shrouded in darkness. The mild slope of the grassy hill offered no real obstacle to the fleeing mare. Nonetheless, she was forced to come to a skidding halt by the sudden appearance of radiant blue eyes ahead.

Screw Loose stepped forward from the blackness, still shrouded in her familiar cloak from top to bottom. Her broad smile and welcoming gaze showed not a hint of malice, nor did her high-pitched giggle. "Hi there, Derpy!" She threw back her cowl to fully reveal her blue coat and frazzled gray mane. "Looks like I made it just in time!"

Derpy Hooves stumbled backward in shock. "You?! What're you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" mimicked Screw Loose. She advanced on Derpy at an oblique angle and began to circle around her. "Better question: what are you doing here?" She waved a hoof toward the carnage on the hilltops. "All of this happened something like twenty-five-hundred years ago. Call me crazy, but you don't look that old."

Derpy froze with indecision. She wanted to be nowhere near this evil mare, but doubted that she could outrun a teleporter. Even if she could, there was the unpredictable pony's wrath to consider. Thus, she allowed herself to think on Screw Loose's question. The implication contained therein astounded her. "Wait, you mean this is all really happened way back when? I'm not in, like, another world or something?"

"Bravo," Screw Loose replied. "And the last pony crosses the finish line."

Derpy shook her head. What surprised her even more than the realization that she was walking about in the distant past was the fact that she'd never considered this strange before. She could recall her previous visits with Silver Cross, but the memories felt buffered somehow, as if the last vestiges of some sort of blockage encircled them. "This doesn't make sense," she whispered. "I-it never did! Why didn't I . . . ?"

Screw Loose leaned close from the side, causing Derpy to flinch. "Don't sweat the particulars, bright ace. Good thing I don't want you for your brains, huh? The important part is who sent you here. After all, ponies don't just fall asleep and wind up in the past for no reason at all, right?"

Derpy shivered. "Was it you?"

"This time it was," Screw Loose confirmed, taking a step back as she did so. "But I'm getting into the game pretty late. Truth is, I'm not the first pony in your life to have an agenda. I just happen to be the most honest." Her eyes rolled up in thought for a moment. "About wanting to use you, that is."

"I don't get it," said Derpy. "Why would anypony come after me? What did I ever do to you? Or anypony else?"

Screw Loose cackled in response. "You really think you're innocent, don't you? You think you've got nothing to do with a pony like me? Heehee, that's too much!"

Derpy simply stared at the laughing mare, having no idea what to say.

"Tell me something then," Screw Loose managed between guffaws. "Where is Rainbow Dash?"

Derpy didn't have time to think about the strange question. A gleaming white fireball hit Screw Loose in the side, sending the cloaked mare careening through the grass in a smoking heap. Another mare—ostensibly the source of the spelll—walked toward them, her face a mask of great displeasure. As for her appearance . . .

"Feather Quill?" Derpy whispered.

"Making sense was never your forte, Screw Loose," declared the newcomer, "but you should have known better than to invade my domain."

Screw Loose stood up on unsteady hooves some distance away, laughing like a madpony. "Oh no," she wailed in mock despair. "Guess I should have left a better lock behind."

Her adversary's violet eyes glowed white. "You have a bad habit of underestimating your enemies." Her eyes narrowed. "Get out of the Lost History or perish where you stand."

Screw Loose smiled back defiantly. "I was hoping we could spend some time together, but . . . eh, all's well that ends well. I got what I came for." Her cloaked form vanished in a cloud of black smoke as her last words echoed in the still night air. "See you soon."

The monochrome mare across from Derpy Hooves breathed a sigh of relief. The light faded from her eyes.

"Feather Quill?" Derpy repeated, louder this time. "Is that you?"

"What?" asked the mare. Confusion dominated her expression for a moment, but was soon replaced by annoyance. "Oh, of course you would think that."

"I would?"

The gray-and-black mare put a hoof on Derpy's shoulder. "Listen here, Little S—" She cleared her throat. "I mean, Derpy. You're in grave danger. Screw Loose pulled you here without any regard for your safety, and the connection is breaking down."

"Connection?" asked a thoroughly lost Derpy Hooves.

"The one between your body and soul," said the mare. "I don't have time to explain it properly, but I need you to trust me. I'm here to return you to the waking world. You want that, right?"

Derpy nodded emphatically.

"Very well then. Hold onto that thought," said the mare as she pulled back her hoof. It remained raised. "Normally, I'd just pull you out, but Screw Loose separated you from your conduit, Silver Cross. I have to put you back in him first. Are you ready?"

Derpy nodded, slower this time.

The mare pulled back her hoof even further. "This might hurt," she said before punching Derpy straight in the face.

It did hurt, but in the very next moment, Derpy found herself in a familiar place. She felt the sensations that belonged to Silver Cross. He was bruised, battered, and cut in a dozen places, but still very much alive. Black clouds of dissolved monstrosities drifted all around as the warrior stallion made his way to the Legate's tent. A magic energy coursed through his body, completely absent from Derpy's previous habitations. It was frightful in its strangeness, and yet comforting in a vague and intangible way.

Gripping the sword firmly between his teeth, Cross pushed through the tent flap to find Feather Quill alive and well. Relief washed over him at the sight of her, plainly recognizable even in her new colors of gray and black.

Feather turned to Cross, her face full of fear. "Cross!" she shouted, rushing to his side as if she were a filly hiding from a parent's wrath. "Thank the Lord you're here! You have to help him!"

Cross looked across the tent at what his childhood friend had fled from. One of the sludge-beasts stood there. Its eyes were alight with crimson fire, and the mouths and blades on its slick skin moved about in a sick parody of life itself. Silver Cross readied himself to fell the abomination, but stopped when—of all things—it spoke.

"Cross," the creature groaned, its voice distinct and familiar. "Stay your blade, old friend."

At the sound of a voice that he'd obeyed for many seasons, Cross very nearly dropped his guard. "Hind Sight?" he gasped. "You still live?"

"We all do," replied the transformed Legate. His voice was the same, but it carried a wheezing quality, as if he'd aged decades in mere minutes. "You made a terrible mistake, Cross. Those were your comrades you slew out there." Hind Sight held up a dripping hoof. "But you couldn't have known. We forgive you for it."

The Legate's words horrified Derpy. It had been awful enough thinking that the ponies of Equitopia had been turned into vicious monsters. The thought of their normal selves living within all that putrid slime sickened the mare, and Cross as well. Had he really murdered his friends?

Cross kept his blade up. "How do you know what takes place beyond your sight? What have you seen of the hell outside your tent?"

"The Experiment was a success," coughed Hind Sight. "Our minds are becoming one, and our bodies will soon follow. We were warned that the Green Pastures would be unlike anything we've seen before, that their beauty would surpass our understanding." His many mouths spoke the words in unison. "This is a time to rejoice, Silver Cross. This is what we wanted." He reached out his hoof once more. "Feather, dearest Feather. I know we were to be wed in the Pastures, but this bond that has been offered to us goes beyond a simple marriage. We will truly become one body, one soul, in every sense of the word."

Feather Quill shifted. Her expression grew uncertain.

"And Cross," Hind Sight continued. "Forgive me, friend, but I know how you feel for Feather. There is no property here, not in this divine union. You can be one with Feather as well, just as you've always wanted." The creature shook its head, splashing steaming bits of its melting flesh across the ground. "I know how you've suffered, how alone you've been. There's no longer any need. All you have to do is cast aside your fear, and you will be welcomed with joy."

"I can't do it!" Feather Quill exclaimed. She stood apart from Cross and looked him in the eye. "I can't live without him, Cross! Maybe . . ." Her eyes had a crazed look to them. Her tongue lolled about in her mouth as she spoke. "Maybe we should . . ."

Silver Cross moved slowly between his charge and the blighted form of Hind Sight. "You use words of the Tome and promise me salvation, but I look upon you and see the gibbering shape of madness incarnate. The fruit of our beliefs is plain to see."

Hind Sight inched forward. "Cross, please . . ."

"It is written," said Silver Cross. "Beware of false prophets. Ye shall know them by their fruits." He pointed the glowing crimson sword directly at his Legate. "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit." Strange magic danced in his eyes. "Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire."

"Cross, no!" yelled Feather Quill.

Hind Sight's mouths opened as well, but were silenced. Silver Cross bisected the creature with one powerful stroke, leaving nothing but inky residue and black smoke in his wake. Feather Quill shook with horror as Cross sheathed his sword. Her teeth chattered, and her red eyes glared in anger.

"We need to go," said Cross. "I've cleared a path out of here, but—"

Feather Quill slapped him across the face with every bit of force she could muster. She had to have know that she couldn't really harm the warrior stallion, but that was not her intent. "I will never forget this," she seethed. "I will never forget what you took from me!"

Cross looked down at her impassively. "I saved your life, Feather. I'm sorry that I couldn't do it in the way that you desired."

"Don't give me that!" shouted Feather Quill. "I know you wanted this! You would have taken any excuse, wouldn't you?! You enjoyed killing him! We were . . ." Tears poured down her cheeks, and her voice became wracked with sobs. "We were going to be happy! We still could have been!"

Silver Cross walked past her. "I won't defy you any further. Come with me or don't, but understand that I'm your best chance of staying alive, of finding another happiness."

Feather Quill glared daggers at him. "It won't be with you, Cross! I'll never forgive you, not ever!"

Cross looked back at her, unable to hide the sorrow in his eyes. "And I'll never ask you to."

Everything around Derpy suddenly faded away, as if a shroud had been pulled from her eyes. She was still inside Cross, she could feel that much. However, they were now back in the prison cell where they'd started.

"Well, little fairy?" asked Cross in a weary voice. "You've been very quiet. Has my story bored you?" A few moments of silence passed. "Have I scared you away?"

Derpy was scared, scared enough to remain silent. The last thought on the young Silver Cross's mind had been gleeful—he had enjoyed killing Hind Sight. Meeting that Cross, witnessing the destruction of his homeland, and knowing now just how it was that he "took Feather's smile" had made her uncertain of the stallion whose body she currently shared. She'd always supposed that Cross never really did anything wrong, that he was a good pony. Derpy shivered inwardly. Between the fanatic she'd met and the jocular mercenary . . . which one was the real Silver Cross?

Little fairy? asked Cross, his inner voice tinged with sadness.

A knock came from the barred iron door. Silver Cross looked up from his shackles to see a familiar and welcome face. "Feather?" He smiled. "I thought you'd be halfway back to the Northerlands by now."

"Not an option," Feather Quill deadpanned. With a glow from her horn, the lock on the door burst into a shower of sparks. "They've got a barrier surrounding the whole valley." She pushed open the creaking iron obstruction and walked inside, her face impassive as ever. "Sorry this took so long—I had a tough time losing them." Her horn shone once more, causing the manacles about Cross's limbs to fall apart.

Silver Cross stood up, stretching his sore body as he did so. "Many thanks, old chum. Now, shall we get going?"

Derpy felt a curious sensation from Cross. His mind was reflecting on the events she'd witnessed, drawing lines of comparison and—slowly but surely—a new conclusion.

Feather raised an eyebrow. "We'll have to wait a while for the barrier to die down. If we get out of the Spire safely—and that's a big if—should we make for the forest or the mines?"

"I'm not leaving."

This drew genuine shock from Feather's expression. "What?" She brought herself closer to Cross, the feathered beads in her hair clacking as she did so. "Sunny Stables isn't the place we were looking for, Cross. What do you hope to accomplish?"

"I'll help you escape if that's what you desire," Cross replied. He walked past her and headed for the door. "But I won't let history repeat itself." He turned back to Feather. A battle-light shone in his eyes. "If Fell Deeds wants to create another Equitopia, then I'll bring this Spire down on his head before he gets the chance!"

It was then with a sharp tug and a whoosh that Derpy Hooves landed back in her bed. It felt just like when she'd fallen from the sky, but she could tell that her body really hadn't moved at all. Above her was the monochrome mare, panting and sweating, with one hoof resting on a giant leather-bound book.

"Thank goodness," the mystery mare gasped. "I made it in time."

Derpy pulled back against the headboard with a thump, wings spread in alarm. "W-who are you? Why is this happening to me?"

The gray-and-black mare's face tensed up. "That's going to be difficult to—" Her body flickered and became ill-defined for a moment. Her eyes went wide and looked to the pearl pendant next to the book. Its own light flickered as well. "Pearl, resume Bonding State." The object flashed once and dove inside her chest.

Derpy drew in a sharp breath. "How did . . . What are you?!"

The mare leaned in close, her expression stern and unyielding. "Listen to me very carefully. I used up most of my power to save you from Screw Loose, so I can't remain here much longer. It's clear to me now that I can't separate your thoughts between the past and present, so I promise that next time we meet I will explain everything." She pressed a hoof against Derpy's shoulder, though it didn't have any force or mass behind it. "For now, you are to tell nopony what you've seen in your dreams. Tell them nothing about Silver Cross, and nothing about me. I'll know if you do. Promise me that you will keep quiet."

Derpy shook her head. "Why? I don't understand any of—"

The mare's gaze narrowed. "Promise me that you will tell nopony or I will disappear forever. You'll never know what transpired here, you'll never see Cross again, and the only one you'll have left to deal with is Screw Loose. Promise me!"

Derpy nodded fearfully, struggling to hold back oncoming tears.

The mysterious mare sighed with relief. "Thank you, Derpy. I wish . . ." Her body flickered once more. "I wish there was a better—" Her voice cut off midsentence, disappearing along with her body into thin air.

Seconds passed in silence. Derpy's heart hammered in her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn't help going over all that she'd seen in her head, but couldn't make sense of any of it. All that she knew for certain was that she feared it. She feared Screw Loose, she feared this new interloper, and now, she even felt fear of her friend Silver Cross, to say nothing of his nightmarish foes.

Spike groaned and picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his temples as he did so. "Oh man, I feel like somepony hit me upside the head with Rarity's giant rock." He looked at Derpy with innocent eyes. "Derpy? Hey, are you okay?"

Derpy looked at him with watery eyes. She wanted so desperately to tell him what had happened. She wanted somepony, anypony to tell her what it all meant, but there was only one pony who could. Unable to say what she wished, she threw herself from the bed and dove at the young dragon.

"Whoa!" Spike exclaimed.

Derpy wrapped both forelegs around him and sobbed openly into his chest, taking comfort in the presence of a true friend since she could do nothing else.

Spike, shocked at first, put one arm around Derpy's back, asking "What happened, Derpy?" as he did. When his question only brought forth more tears, he used his spare hand to stroke her mane. "It's gonna be all right, Derpy. We're all here for you." He looked about, uncertain when he'd even entered the room in the first place, but his attention soon snapped back to the distressed mare in his arms. "Doesn't matter what happened," he said with a grim voice. "I'll stay with you until you feel better." His eyes narrowed and drifted to the sword on the floor. "And I'll make whoever did this to you pay for it," he muttered under his breath.

NEXT
Amethyst 3B: Blood Song

Amethyst 3B: Blood Song

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Edited by Cynewulf

It was some time after they'd lost sight of the entrance that Twilight began to grow nervous. The stone staircase underneath Sweet Apple Acres extended into darkness in both directions. Pale light emanated from Twilight’s horn, only bright enough to reveal One Liner to her front, Applejack at the rear, and the crusty walls of packed dirt that seemed to close in all around them. The presence of ancient timber supports every few yards did nothing to assuage the unicorn's trepidation. She could hear the thumping of her own heartbeat even over the clip-clop of their hooves on the roughly-hewn steps. The putrid smell of sulfur that suffused the narrow cavern wasn't helping matters.

"So, Miss Twilight," said One Liner, his calm voice reverberating off the walls. "How goes the translation?"

"Translation?" Twilight echoed, distracted by an evil-looking snarl of roots.

Liner turned his head back for a moment as he continued onward. "You know, the literary pursuits of our good friend Screw Loose? Room 401?"

"Ugh," Twilight groaned. "Don't remind me. I consulted every book ever written on the subject of Ancient Equestrian and every other book even marginally related to the first set." She rolled her eyes. "I figured out a few common pronouns and conjugations, but even those didn't make sense in the order they were used. The only thing I learned from that mess is that we're not going to understand it without the exordium. And speaking of things I don't understand . . ." She turned to the orange earth pony behind her. "What the hay is something like this doing under your wheat field?"

"I dunno," answered Applejack, her tone quiet and thoughtful. "I feel like I should though, like there's somethin' important that I plum forgot about."

Twilight shivered. "Well, it's a crazy thing to forget if you did. I know I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if there were something this creepy underneath the library." Her light flickered briefly. "I mean, who knows what's at the bottom?"

Applejack grinned. "Aw shucks. Are you scared, Twi?"

"Scared?" Twilight flushed at the accusation. "O-of course not! It's just an underground passageway, after all." She gave a fake laugh. "A pony of science knows that there's no such thing as ghosts or bogeymen."

Applejack shook her head. "I didn't say anythin' 'bout ghosts."

"And why would you?" babbled Twilight. "The only thing weird about this staircase is where it is, right? I mean, imagine if it were underneath a castle, or some ruins in the Everfree. Why, that would be perfectly— AAH!" The light from her horn flared brilliant white with a shower of magic sparks. Something had scratched at her right shoulder. Twilight yelped, dove for the nearest pony, and latched on with all her might. "Get it away from me! Kill it with fire!" she shouted, eyes screwed shut in fear.

A short time passed in silence before a cough issued forth from One Liner. "Miss Twilight?"

Twilight recognized the smell of cologne and the smooth feel of the detective's trenchcoat. She opened her eyes and stared right up into One Liner's blue irises.

Applejack prodded at a claw-shaped branch and whistled. "I guess ponies o’ science aren’t much for watchin’ where they’re goin’."

One Liner offered a nervous smile. "I'm afraid it's going to be pretty hard to protect you with your forelegs wrapped around my neck."

Twilight released her stranglehold on the detective, blushing furiously. "Oh goodness! I'm so sorry!"

"Not a problem," said One Liner. He nodded toward the descending stairs. "Shall we?"

Twilight watched as Liner pressed on and couldn't help but notice a strange movement in the folds of his coat. There was no mistaking it—his tail had to be swishing back and forth underneath. Twilight's face felt very hot. Her thoughts drifted to Applejack's earlier comments. Did that . . . excite him?

"Ahem."

Twilight turned back to find a smirking Applejack. "What?" she asked.

"Nothin'," quipped the highly amused earth pony mare. "Want me to hold your hoof the rest of the way?"

Twilight frowned and marched off in a huff.

"Huh," Applejack mused with a nudge to her Stetson. "Guess I'm not the one you wanna be holdin' hooves with . . ."

Applejack was thankful when the stairs finally ended, but was unimpressed by the view. She trotted forward onto the odd stretch of cobblestone flooring, peering out into the blackness of what must have been a wide-open space. “Hey, Twi?” she called to her unicorn friend. “Mind turnin’ on the lights?”

Twilight Sparkle obliged by putting more effort into her illumination spell. The light from her horn spread outward and revealed what lay hidden in the darkness bit by bit. The cavern they’d stepped into rose two stories high and measured several yards across in all directions. A complex series of aged wooden supports held the uneven ceiling aloft. Both they and the half-finished stonework on some of the walls bore grisly swatches of sloppy crimson writings. Piles of white bones in various corners left little doubt of the scribbler’s choice in art supplies.

One Liner grimaced. “This could give me a new appreciation for leaving the lights off.”

The dirty, disheveled remains of what had once been a bed adorned one corner while a grouping of empty iron cages adorned the other. Bits and pieces of ruined wooden furniture rested at odd intervals throughout the cavern, and other tunnels and stairways—much like the one they’d descended—branched off in all directions. It was that last detail that finally jogged Applejack’s memory.

“I don’t believe it,” gasped the farmpony. She removed her hat and held it to her chest.

“Me neither,” Twilight responded as she gazed about. “Who would live in a place like this?”

Applejack shook her head. “Ain’t nopony supposed to, Twi. This here’s the Storm Hollow.”

One Liner looked up from the rotting form of a half-demolished desk. “Care to elaborate?”

Applejack looked up at the ceiling in wide-eyed wonder. “Y’know how the Apple family were the ones who founded Ponyville in the first place? Well, for a long time there was no Ponyville—just my granny and her folks on the border o’ the Everfree, tamin’ the land as best they could. It was ‘round the time o’ the first timber wolf attacks that my great-grandpappy decided that the family needed someplace to run to if they came up against somethin’ they couldn’t handle. So he set every able-bodied pony he could spare from farmwork to diggin’ some great big hole in the ground with lots of narrow ins n’ outs. When it was finished after a few seasons, he took t’ callin’ it the Storm Hollow.”

“Why ‘Storm Hollow?’” asked Twilight.

Applejack chuckled. “‘Cause he wasn’t too creative. My great-grandpappy figured that the place was a great big hollow space and that it’d be mighty useful if one o’ those tree topplin’ Everfree storm systems came rollin’ through.”

One Liner began pulling drawers out of the desk. “And you forgot about this?”

Applejack shrugged. “Well, I heard about it when I was a little ‘un, but nopony could remember where it was. Our family never used the place, and there wasn’t much need after other ponies started movin’ here. Once the pegasus ponies got the weather in workin’ order n’ scared off most of the critters, the Hollow just got sorta buried as the years went by. I even went lookin’ for the old entrances once upon a time—never found a darn thing till now.”

One Liner stuck a cursory hoof into an open drawer. The sound of rattling glass filled the cavern. “Unless your ancestors were into magic locks and stockpiling drugs from the future, I’d say that this is Screw Loose’s hideout.”

“The missing bottles of Ventium?” asked Twilight.

Liner nodded. “All but two by my count.”

Applejack wandered close to the rusty cages, each big enough to hold a pony inside. “You mean that whacked-out pony was livin’ underneath us?” She paused for a moment to think that through. “That’s why she had to take out Winona—poor puppy-girl woulda sniffed her out in a heartbeat if she hadn't.” Applejack’s eyes widened. “So she’s been under us for two months now?”

“Makes sense,” answered One Liner. “The knights must have covered every inch of the countryside by now. This is the only place they might have missed.”

Applejack retched in disgust. “And I thought nothin’ would ever make me wanna move out.” A metal engraving on one of the cages caught her eye. “Hey, what is this? Property of . . . Ponyville Memorial?”

Twilight walked over to have a look for herself. “Interesting. Cages like these were used for animal test subjects until the practice was outlawed about a hundred years ago. I don’t even know where you’d find these anymore.” She pawed at a clump of dried resin one one of the metal bars. “Was she keeping timber wolves in here?”

“The shoe seems to fit,” quipped One Liner as he gazed at the red marks on the wall. “I’m more curious about these scribblings. Is this red paint, or . . .”

Applejack spied a familiar-looking set of bones amongst the cages and shivered. “No, I think that’s cow blood.”

Twilight flinched. “Are you serious?”

Applejack began to sweat, unable to take her eyes off the grisly pile. “I thought we were losin’ a few to timber wolves after Winona died, but . . .”

“You may very well have been,” interrupted Liner. “Screw Loose had to feed whatever was in the cages, after all. Looks like she’s the sort of pony who lets nothing go to waste.”

Applejack grimaced. “As if I needed another reason to strangle that monster.”

One Liner noticed that Twilight had locked her eyes on a particular set of blood smears. “Miss Twilight?”

“It’s the exordium,” said Twilight. “I don’t believe it, but Screw Loose wrote the whole thing down again!” She extended a hoof toward Liner without looking his way. “Liner, you still have that notebook and pen?”

The detective fished the objects out of a coat pocket and tossed them toward the unicorn mare. “Think fast.”

“I don’t get it though,” said Applejack as Twilight began copying down the writing on the wall. “Why’s that one wall covered with weird letters? I can read most of everythin’ else in here.” Her eyes scanned the walls and supports. “Not that I really care to.”

Liner tipped up the brim of his fedora. “I imagine that’s one of the questions we’ll have to ask Screw Loose herself. Shouldn’t take long to find her now that we’ve uncovered her base of operations.”

“Done!” chirped Twilight, happy to have found the key to a frustrating puzzle. She turned to One Liner. “Want me to write down the rest?”

“That will do for now,” said Liner. “I’m about to turn this crime scene over to the Sheriff’s Department. Priority one is finding Screw Loose before she has a chance to go to ground, and I have a feeling that Captain Soarin will want me to join the search party.”

“Okay, mind if I tag along?”

Both Applejack and One Liner simply stared at Twilight for a moment, the detective with a look of uncertainty and the farmpony with a knowing smirk.

Liner coughed. “This isn’t a picnic, Miss Twilight. We’ll be in real danger out there.”

“Yeah,” Twilight answered at a lower volume, clearly a bit embarrassed by her sudden offer. “But it sounds like just the sort of situation where your favorite unicorn might come in handy.”

Applejack’s smile grew wider. “Um, not to rain on your parade, sugarcube, but weren’t you gonna help Spike look after Derpy?”

“I was just about to take care of that,” said Twilight. She closed her eyes for a moment, causing the orb of light generated by her horn to rise halfway to the ceiling. It hung there like a lantern, making the cavern visible even without Twilight there to cast it. The unicorn mare smiled. “Somepony owes me a favor, and I can’t think of a safer place for Derpy to be right now than her cottage.”

One Liner shook his head. “Looks like I haven’t got much choice in the matter. Can you make it to the knights’ base camp in, say fifteen minutes?”

Twilight nodded. “See you there!”

As the curiously upbeat unicorn mare trotted off toward the stairs, Applejack placed her Stetson once more atop her head. “Well, I figure I’m not gonna be of much further use ‘round here. Guess I’d best go and tend to the family. Nice meetin’ ya, Detective.” With a courteous nod and a winning smile, she made to follow her friend above ground.

“One moment, Miss Applejack.”

Applejack stopped and turned about. “Somethin’ I can do for ya?”

The expression on Liner’s face and the tone of his voice had become more serious. “I’ve been thinking about the statement you gave regarding your encounter with Screw Loose and I get the impression that you’re . . . holding something back.”

Applejack’s smile took on a nervous twitch. “Now why would I—”

“Please,” said Liner. “I’m not accusing you of anything in particular. I just want to remind you that every piece of information related to our prime suspect, no matter how insignificant it may seem, is crucial to finding her and establishing guilt.” He stepped forward. “So I’ll ask you this one time, Miss Applejack. Is there anything you’d like to add to your statement before it becomes a matter of public record?”

Applejack gulped audibly. “Well . . .”

“What did you do?!” yelled Applejack. Magic coursed through every fiber of the farmpony’s body, yet she’d never felt more powerless as she stared at the smoking crater where Derpy and Apple Bloom had been. She whirled on Screw Loose. “How could you?!”
Then, before Applejack’s very eyes, her panting and battered opponent began to change. The visible parts of Screw Loose’s coat shifted from cobalt blue to cotton-candy pink. Her mane curled up into brilliant strands of magenta, and her blue eyes regained their familiar round pupils. The cheery voice that said her next words sounded awfully familiar as well.
“Party’s just getting started, A.J.”

One Liner put a thoughtful hoof to his chin.

Applejack laughed nervously. “N-now I wouldn’t put much stock in that. Screw Loose can look like whatever she wants to, right? Maybe she was just screwin’ with me, if you’ll pardon the expression.” She waved a hoof. “I mean, who knows what that crazy pony is thinkin’ anyway?”

One Liner looked her dead in the eye. “Work in my profession long enough and you’ll realize that there’s no such thing as crazy. There’s just lines of reasoning that we don’t understand . . .” His eyes drifted up toward the ceiling and read a few curious lines written in blood.

I have to tell them!

She can’t get away with this!

I have to deliver these letters!

Liner's eyes narrowed. “And the ones we refuse to consider . . .”

NEXT
Episode 07: "The Kindness of Others"

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [1/9]

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Edited by Cynewulf

THEN

[Five Months Ago]
A dense morning fog hung on the Everfree Forest, bathing all that could be seen amongst the tall trees in white and gray. Unnatural silence and stillness pervaded the area in the wake of the previous night's Harmony Storm. All that remained was a young dragon of colors violet and green, who rent both the silence and the stillness in careless fury.

"RAAAGH!"

With shouts, yells, and fearsome growls he punched at the side of a pine tree. Blow after blow shredded the bark, but the trunk beneath resisted every strike. The dragon's hands were not so lucky. Scales chipped, claws cracked, and eventually, seeping blood began to smear the timber. Even so, the dragon showed no signs of stopping his relentless assault until the pop of a dislocated bone sounded in the misty air.

Spike raised his bloodied fist yet again, mindless of how it shook. His face contorted in anger. His breath came out in ragged snarls, and his bared fangs shone with spittle. The rage had not left him, but his raised arm would no longer cooperate. Searing, debilitating pain lanced through every muscle as he tried to will one last punch out of the abused appendage. However, it was no use. Spike let the arm fall to his side and began to weep bitterly.

"For what reason do you punish yourself?" asked a strong feminine voice.

Spike whirled in the direction of the voice to find a unicorn mare towering over him. She stood nearly a foot taller than the young dragon, but her features were refined and delicate in the manner of a Canterlot noble. From her coat of phthalo blue and mane of light azure to the pure cyan of her inquisitive eyes, not a single detail of her appearance struck a note of familiarity. The brown traveler's cloak covering most of her body below the neck prevented Spike from seeing her Cutie Mark as well. Defenseless, exhausted, and quite embarrassed, he found himself wilting in the presence of this imposing stranger.

"W-who are you?" asked Spike.

The mare stared down at him with a stoic sort of curiosity. "I am Midnight."

"Oh, Midnight," Spike said casually. He'd expected the answer to bring to mind a resident of Ponyville, but his brain caught up with the oddity of the name a few seconds late. "Wait, Midnight what?"

Midnight raised an eyebrow. "The one name serves me well. I have no need of a second."

"I guess that makes sense," Spike replied. Caught in a personal moment, he could think of nothing else to do but play it off as an everyday conversation. His shaking arms and bloodied hands made that a tall order.

"I say again," declared Midnight. "Why do you attack a tree in the midst of these woods? Why inflict pain upon yourself to no avail?"

Spike looked away. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"Is the reason a guarded secret then?"

That question made Spike feel more than a little foolish. "No, not really. Everypony in Ponyville knows about it by now." He sighed. "I . . . screwed up. A pony I care about got hurt last night."

Midnight tilted her head. "Will this pony live?"

"Yeah," Spike shot back quickly, surprised at the severity of the question. "The doctors say she'll be fine in a few days, but . . ." He clenched the one fist that he still could. "I was right there when that monster went after her and I couldn't do a thing. I promised to protect her a long time ago, but every time something happens I'm completely useless." A tear made its way past his defenses and down his cheek. "I'm the only fire-breathing dragon alive who can't even hurt a stupid tree."

Midnight nodded. "Then you are frustrated by your inadequacy. You desire power."

Spike chuckled darkly. "See it growing on a tree anywhere?"

"I know of no such plant," Midnight replied, "but I am one who can bestow what you seek." Her horn shone with a cobalt aura and opened the folds of her cloak. A sword in its scabbard floated from within, coming to rest in midair between the two of them.

Spike gazed at the emerald pommel stone and brass cross-hilt of the pristine short sword in open-mouthed awe. "Where did you get this? It almost looks like the one the knights carry, but . . ."

"It is an older blade," said Midnight. "The hilt lacks a mouthguard and the handle is rough on the jaw. Even so, I doubt such flaws would present a problem for a creature with hands." One corner of her mouth rose. "Provided said creature bothers to preserve his hands, that is."

Spike had never seen a weapon this close before. As far as he knew, only the royal knights carried swords of this caliber, and nopony in Ponyville even owned a bladed weapon of any kind at all. He reached out for the handle with his functioning hand.

"Be warned," cautioned Midnight, causing the young dragon to freeze in place. "Though the blade is itself an expression of power, whether to harm or to protect, this one is but a key to the power of which I speak. To take hold of this sword is to make a vow that one day, you shall use it to prove your worth. At that time, should I deem you deserving, you shall inherit another sword entirely—one that has no equal in this world."

Spike continued to stare at the weapon. "And if I fail?"

Midnight's expression remained stoic. "Then I shall claim your life, young dragon."

"My life?" Spike exclaimed. He took a step back, but did not lower his arm. "Why?"

"Because the world to which both this sword and its better belong makes no allowance for failure," answered Midnight. "Some would say you are wise to hesitate in the face of such a risk."

Spike's thoughts drifted to the shambling horror he'd encountered in the midst of the Harmony Storm. "What would you say?"

Midnight looked him directly in the eye. "That it is impossible to protect the life of another without risking your own."

A fleeting image of Rarity, bruised and bleeding, raced through Spike's mind. He drew in a deep breath, reached out, and pulled the sword from its scabbard. The gleaming white metal of the blade sung as it was drawn in a low and solemn tone. The sound brought only one word to Spike's mind as he held the weapon before him. Death.

Midnight allowed the scabbard to float to the ground and bowed her head in respect. "Very well, young one. Carry it with you always. Train yourself in its use, and one day I shall return to test you. That day may be a year from now—it might be tomorrow. Never allow yourself to grow complacent. You will need each and every day that I give you to have even a prayer of success."

Adrenaline rushed through Spike's veins, washing away his uncertainty. A smile crept across his tear-stained face. "I will, but why give this to me?" The smile faded a bit. "What's in it for you?"

Midnight lifted her head and used magic to push aside stray locks of her silken mane. "Just as I give unto you the key to what you desire, so shall you—in learning to use it—discover the key to what I desire."

Spike had no idea what the mare's cryptic statement meant, and somehow, he didn't care. The weapon in his hands mesmerized him. It made him feel, for the first time in a long while, that anything was possible. Anything, that is, except for the movement he spied out of the corner of his eye. As Midnight turned to leave, her cloak moved about her midsection in a way that it shouldn't have, as if there were another pair of appendages under there besides her four legs.

Spike had a sudden sinking feeling as he watched the strange mare disappear into the fog. What had he just gotten himself into?

NOW

[Dawn of Day 31]
Screw Loose examined the side of a pine tree that had caught her attention. Pockmarks, scratches, and chipped bark all told the tale of the damage done to it five months before, even in the dim pinkish light of early dawn. The cloaked mare's blue eyes swept back and forth over the battered trunk. Her chapped lips stretched into a crooked smile. "Looks like somepony was having fun."

WHACK!

The metal butt of a spear hit Screw Loose square in the jaw. Stars exploded in her vision and she toppled over, landing flat on her back in the dew-soaked underbrush. Waves of pain rushed through her cranium and, when her eyesight finally cleared, she found three sharpened speartips ready to do the same.

Three stallions wearing the familiar golden armor of royal knights held their weapons at Screw Loose's face by means of side harnesses. The shortest among them declared, "Stay right where you are, missy. One false move out of you and you'll never make another. Are we clear?"

"As a bell," answered Screw Loose. She rubbed at the fresh welt on her cheek and smiled seductively. "That feels amazing. Do you give it to your marefriend this good?"

The stallion snarled and made an emphatic movement with his spear. "Watch your mouth, villain."

Screw Loose shook with a bit of silent mirth. "I can't."

An armored pegasus stallion bearing the plumage of a captain trotted into view flanked by several others. He snorted and grinned with pride. "I do love it when an ambush goes off without a hitch." He looked down his nose at the prone mare before him. "Pardon our intrusion into your morning constitutional, miss, but you look an awful lot like the wanted criminal Screw Loose. Might you be that very mare?"

"Uh-huh," said Screw Loose in the tone of a playful filly. "That's me~ I enjoy chocolate rain, long walks in the Etheria . . ." Her eyes turned violet. "And I love—" Her voice stopped suddenly. Her mouth went slack, and her eyes drifted down to the spear sticking out of her chest.

"They warned us about your eyes," said the shortest stallion as he jammed the blade in harder. "Castin' some magic, huh? I bet you can't teleport so easily with somethin' inside you that don't belong."

Screw Loose simply looked at the wound in silent stupor. Blood seeped past the blade and coursed down her side.

"What have you done?!" shouted the captain. "Our orders were to take her alive!" He advanced on the culprit with a raised hoof, but paused at the sound of laughter.

Screw Loose giggled madly and began pushing the spear around in the wound. "You interrupted me," she said as the red blood flowing from her injury began to run black. "I was . . . I was trying to tell you what I love . . ." Her giggles transformed into riotous laughter that echoed across the dense woodland.

The soldiers shouted in surprise as lines of red light traced themselves along the ground. They recoiled from the strange phenomena, but it was no use—the intricate patterns of light overtook them in a trice and continued to spread. The ground cracked along the lines with the sound of snapping bones. Red light poured forth from the depths.

Screw Loose pulled herself up and latched onto the stallion who'd stabbed her, heedless of the weapon plunging further inside her. "You know what I love?" she managed in the throes of her hilarity.

Several soldiers dropped their gear and ran only to be snagged by black, oily tendrils that leapt out of the glowing crevices. Their screams as the substance welded itself to their bodies drowned out the sound of laughter.

Screw Loose put her smiling visage so close to the stallion's that they could see nothing but each others' eyes and coughed, hacking up a mixture of blood and black sludge onto the unfortunate soldier's face. The stallion cried out in pain and terror, but Screw Loose held him tight and shouted directly into his ears.

"I LOVE IT WHEN I CAN JUST BE MYSELF!"

My Little Pony: Lost Legacies

The Kindness of Others

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [2/9]

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[Morning of Day 31]
At a homely cottage forged from an oak tree on the border of the Everfree Forest, spring reigned supreme. The sun shone down from its domain of aquamarine, undimmed by the passing of fluffy white clouds. Patches of multicolored flowers swayed in the gentle breeze, nourished by the clear waters of a babbling brook. Birds twittered in the trees, hares scampered across the fields, and a confused Rainbow Dash hovered outside the window of the cottage's second-story bedroom.

"Are you serious?" asked the cyan pegasus mare. "You're really gonna leave me hangin'?"

Derpy Hooves sat on the checker-patterned comforter of the bed just inside and gazed up at Rainbow Dash with half-lidded eyes.

"Hush, Spike! We can't let Pinkie know we're here, remember?"
"Someone's gonna fall, something's gonna fall! Run for your lives!"

Derpy shook her head and blinked hard. The flashes came to her now whenever she tried to think, and they made less sense than ever. "Sorry, Rainbow Dash. I just don't feel up to working on the roof today."

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. "Aw, come on. I know you're bummed about what happened last night, but we're so close to being done. Can't you just give it a try?"

Derpy opened her mouth to respond . . .

"While y'all here, ya' feel like bobbin' for an apple?"

. . . but the offending thought caused her to simply twitch instead.

Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs. "I mean, are you scared or somethin'? Half the royal army is cruising through the Everfree, the sheriff's department is out in force, and you'll be hangin' with the fastest flyin' fighter in Equestria." She punched at thin air for emphasis. "Come on, what could possibly go—"

"I just don't know what went wrong."
"Yeah. It's a mystery."

Derpy squinted. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Rainbow titled her head to the side. "Um, what could possibly get through all that and hurt you?"

Derpy Hooves groaned and flopped down on her stomach. "I'm serious, Rainbow Dash. I don't feel good."

"I can't believe that Princess Celestia chose us to put on the most important play of the season!"

Derpy grabbed a nearby pillow and pulled it over her ears.

Rainbow Dash sighed and looked away. "I get it, Derps—I really do. I just don't know how else to cheer you up. I've never seen you this down before and it . . ." She winced. "Really makes my head hurt."

"Maybe we should both take the day off," suggested Derpy from underneath the pillow.

"Yeah," Rainbow replied, her expression uncertain and forlorn. "So, I guess I'll see you later then?"

Derpy nodded.

Rainbow Dash turned to leave but paused long enough to say over her shoulder, "Seriously, I hope you get to feelin' better, kiddo."

The flap of powerful wings and the sound of rushing air told Derpy that Rainbow had at last departed. She breathed a sigh of relief—the flashes seemed to subside in the cyan pegasus's wake. Relative peace and quiet descended over the room, emptied even of the animals that normally occupied its many birdhouses and cubbyholes. Derpy wanted to drown herself in the silence, to not do or say or think anything at all. A part of her even longed for her old apartment, much to her surprise.

Derpy flipped the pillow over and rested her chin on the cool fabric. Every bit of what had happened in the Dream World—as she'd decided to call it—absolutely baffled her, and her inability to understand scared her even more. It all felt so far beyond her that she didn't even want to try to understand it, much less wait in silence on some stranger to reveal the truth at her own whim. Derpy felt a headache coming on. Why was any of this even happening to her?

"You really think you're innocent, don't you?"
"Tell me something then: where is Rainbow Dash?"

What a stupid question, thought Derpy. She was right here.

"Oh dear, I don't think I can do this after all."

Derpy's ears pricked up and swiveled toward the closed entryway across the room. The conversation taking place just outside clearly wasn't meant for her to hear, but . . .

"Now that's not like you, honeybun. When the goin' gets rough, you show 'em your stuff!"

"Um, are you sure that's how it goes?"

"Instead of tryin' to stall, why not give it your all?"

Derpy Hooves grimaced. She'd met the owners of this cottage when she and Spike had arrived last night. They clearly meant well, but something about these two rubbed Derpy the wrong way.

"Did you even see her eyes? How am I supposed to help her if I can't even look straight at her?"

Derpy's frown grew exponentially.

"Okay, enough's enough. On three, sunshine. One, two . . ."

The door burst open to reveal the pegasus mare named Fluttershy, who stumbled into the room with a breakfast tray barely held in place on her back. She flashed an uneasy smile and struggled to regain her footing. "Oh! Good morning, Miss Derpy Hooves." The deep cyan of her eyes stood out against the pastel colors of her pink mane and pale yellow coat, even moreso now as they shifted back and forth in a reflexive search for an escape route. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," lied Derpy.

"Oh good," replied Fluttershy as she sidled forward. "I mean, if you hadn't gotten a good night's sleep then I . . ." She stopped in place for a moment, her face a mask of worried confusion. "Oh, I don't know what I'd do. Maybe give you a glass of warm milk?"

Derpy raised an eyebrow. She didn't credit herself as a good judge of character, but this mare was clearly trying too hard.

Fluttershy shook her head, causing a tiny golden bell that she wore on her on her left ear to jingle. "That's beside the point, I guess. Here." She walked up to the bedside and deftly slid an ornate wooden food tray onto the comforter. "I made some breakfast for you. Are you hungry?"

Derpy eyeballed the meal. "No," she answered. The steaming hot redcurrant pancakes and crisp apple juice might have seemed appetizing on any other morning. However, her growing headache and the awkwardness of her new benefactor combined to kill Derpy's appetite.

"Oh dear," gasped Fluttershy. "I thought these were your favorite. Did I make them wrong?"

"Rainbow Dash's favorite," Derpy muttered around her pillow.

Fluttershy looked at the floor. "R-right, I knew that." She looked back up sheepishly. "Does that mean you don't like them?"

Derpy sighed. "It's not that. I just—"

"How could I be so inconsiderate?" Fluttershy interrupted. With a flap of her wings she ascended onto the bed, touching down so gracefully that Derpy barely felt a thing. She did feel it, however, when Fluttershy began rubbing her side. "Is it your tummy? Do you need some medicine?"

Derpy recoiled from the touch and sat up straight against the headboard. "No! I just . . ." She cringed. That movement had not been good for the pain in her head. "I just . . ."

Fluttershy sat down on the comforter. "This is about last night, isn't it?" A very fake smile spread across her face. "Well, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. There's lots of big and tough royal knights out there, the sheriff and his deputies actually got out their batons for once, and—"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," moaned Derpy with a hoof to her forehead. "I'm safe as can be. Now all I have to do is wait around for everypony else to do stuff for me." She stuck the hoof up in the air and waved it around. "Whoop-te-doo. Even if they catch Screw Loose, that just means I go right back to being Ponyville's big screw-up and having everypony help me with that instead." She grabbed the pillow once more and hugged it. "I don't know why I even bother. I try hard to fix one problem and a worse one pops up before I'm even done with the first. What's the use?"

Fluttershy looked genuinely taken aback. "N-now you're just being a Negative Nancy." She got up and walked toward her charge with an outstretched hoof, concerned by the way Derpy had been holding her head a moment before. "You'll never feel better if you keep thinking like that. So something bad happened last night and caught you by surprise—who's to say that something good won't do the same today?"

At that moment, Derpy felt the acute sensation of a white-hot stake being driven into her skull.

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [3/9]

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[Ten Months Ago]
"I just can't believe it," sobbed a teary-eyed Fluttershy. "I can't believe Angel Bunny's gone." She'd meant to yell but, as usual, she just couldn't get her voice all the way to the desired volume.
The stocky mustachioed bartender across from her gazed at the far wall impassively, scrubbing a glass by way of unicorn magic. However, the huge blue minotaur in the next seat over offered a sympathetic hoofkerchief.
"There, there now," said Iron Will in his ever-deep masculine voice. "Critters are given to wanderin' sometimes. Iron Will knows he'll turn up sooner or later—satisfaction guaranteed."
Fluttershy took the kerchief, sniffled, and dabbed at her cheeks. Part of her couldn't believe that she'd even come to this basement-level bar in the first place, much less that she'd run into an old acquaintance like her former personality coach. The other part wanted to explore the possibilities of drowning her sorrow in potent beverage. Given that the dim multicolored lanterns hanging throughout the establishment had grown hazy in her vision, she believed herself to be at least part of the way there. "He's been gone for a -hic- whole week already," she babbled. "That's never happened before. I just don't understand it." A flash of anger crossed her delicate features. She glared at the bartender and tapped the empty glass in front of her. "More Roamin Milk, if it's not too -hic- much trouble."
The bartender raised a scruffy eyebrow. "Don't you think you've had enough?"
Iron Will gave an easy smile. "Don't you worry, barkeep. Iron Will's got this well in hand, or your money back."
The bartender shrugged and redirected his magic aura to the taps. Into a waiting vessel poured the infamous milk of the island-bound Roamin Ranch. Brewed in the udders of rare Apollon cows and refined by the secret techniques of the reclusive Roamin family, the prized milk bore a flavor once described by its creator Roamin Round as "somethin’ like takin’ a sledgehammer to the gut n’ gettin’ a kiss on the cheek for yer trouble." However, the milk had become a treasured beverage across Equestria not because of its flavor, but rather its potential for intoxication, unrivaled by any known form of alcohol.
The bartender floated the dangerous milk over to Fluttershy, who downed it in an instant.
Iron Will let out a low whistle.
"It doesn't make any -hic- sense," continued the inconsolable pegasus mare. "I loved Angel Bunny more than any other critter I ever met. He could be mean to me sometimes, but I always looked after everything he could possibly want." She sniffed mightily to try and stop the oncoming tears. It had no effect. "Why did he go and leave me alo-ho-hone?!" she wailed quietly. "What did I do wrong?"
Iron Will reached over with a blue-furred hand. He hesitated for a moment, but chose to follow through and patted Fluttershy on the back. "Come on now, it's not as bad as all that. You said it yourself, right? You did a bang-up job raisin' the little fella, and I'm sure he appreciates it. Besides, you're not really alone, are you?"
Fluttershy brought the kerchief to her nose and blew so softly into it that her sinuses couldn't have even budged. She looked up at Iron Will with wide eyes, almost as if what he'd said had really hit home. However, not a second passed before her gaze waxed angry and turned on a passing stranger. "And what are you looking at, buster?" she squeaked.
"Fluttershy," said Iron Will as he snapped his fingers next to her face. "Front n' center."
Fluttershy whirled back to him, looking for all the world as if she'd gotten caught passing a note in class. "Uh-huh?"
Iron Will put his smile back on. "Iron Will says you're not alone. You've still got the rest of your woodland pals, right?"
Fluttershy nodded slowly and hiccuped. "Yeah."
"And what about your friends Pinkie Pie and Rarity? Aren't you three still a collector's set?"
"Yeah. -hic-"
Iron Will put a thumb to his chiseled chest. "And hey, for a limited time only, you've even got Iron Will by your side."
A tiny smile arose on Fluttershy's face. "Really?" She turned back to her empty glass and cupped it with both hooves. After staring into it for a moment, she said, "You're right. You're one-hundred-percent absolutely positively undeniably . . ." She squinted. "Uh . . . completely . . ." She'd lost whatever it was she was trying to say and simply smiled a fragile smile. "Still hurts though." She tapped the glass. "I need more of this stuff."
Iron Will grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Iron Will is right there with you, Flutterhoney." He failed to notice Fluttershy blushing at the random nickname and stuck out two fingers toward the bartender. "Hey, barkeep?"
The bartender looked up from his duties.
Iron Will scrunched his fingers like a pair of bunny-ears. "Dos mas, por favor."
~
It was some time later that a pair of mismatched figures stumbled down the narrow dirt path to Fluttershy's cottage under a starlit sky.
"Thank you so much for walking me home," said Fluttershy as she leaned against Iron Will for support. Despite her apologetic words, her voice remained giddy from what had escalated into a full-blown pub crawl. "I swear I've never done anything like this before." A wave of mild nausea washed over her. "Ooh. I probably shouldn't have."
Iron Will chuckled and patted Fluttershy's side with the same arm he was using to hold them both steady. "Well Miss Fluttershy, Iron Will is honored to be your partner in crime. Just—" He brought a closed left fist to his mouth to suppress a burp. "Just take along a friend first next time. You can't count on running into mean old minotaurs who owe you a free trial. You've only got one of those, far as I know."
Fluttershy gave Iron Will her idea of a playful shove. He barely felt it. "You are not old!" she squeaked. "And you're not mean either." She paused to think on that last bit. "Actually, you're a lot nicer than I remember." That thought quickly lead to another. She looked up at her companion with wide eyes. "Wait, what free trial? I don't think I did anything for you before."
"Is that so?" replied Iron Will as they drew near to the cottage. "You think that anypony ever had the guts to tell Iron Will how full of it he was before you came along?"
"Oh," Fluttershy answered meekly. "Um, was that a good thing?"
Iron Will put a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Let's see now. Is it a good thing when the prettiest mare you ever met gives you a bad review and sends you off to rethink your life?" He let the question sit for a moment, taking notice of the trepidation on Fluttershy's face. He smiled. "Iron Will thinks so. Either way, you sure made an impression—I haven't stopped thinkin' about you ever since." The redness on his cheeks, due mostly to mild inebriation, deepened. "That's why Iron Will's here, really. Just thought I'd see how you were doin'."
Fluttershy gave a bashful smile, but couldn't think of anything to say. At the very hour when she'd felt her life of kindness most futile, along came this hunk of a minotaur—a man she'd admired but always thought unreachable—to let her know that she'd made a difference in his life. He thinks you're pretty too, her brain reminded her. Fluttershy wanted to say something back, to tell him how much she appreciated his visit. However, none of the pleasantries that came to mind seemed adequate, not for expressing the curious warmth spreading through her, entirely separate from the effects of strong drink.
At last they arrived at Fluttershy's doorstep. Iron Will knelt down to her face level and gestured toward the door. "Here we are, princess. Feel up to goin' it alone from here?"
Fluttershy did feel up to the task of getting herself to bed, but she did not want to be alone. A strange idea occurred to her, a technique Rarity had once pontificated on. The usual dread of possible consequences assailed her, but she found the feeling easier to slip past than ever before. "I t-think I'll be okay," she stuttered. Fluttershy took one step forward, shook intentionally, took another, and finally allowed her legs to buckle completely.
Iron Will caught her easily with a steady hand across her chest. "Whoa now," he exclaimed. "Looks like you could use some shipping n' handling after all."
Fluttershy looked back at him sheepishly. "Um, if you don't mind." Her heart raced at her successful deception, but she'd failed to anticipate what happened next. A stallion might have thrown a foreleg about her and awkwardly helped her inside. Iron Will, however, pushed up on her chest, slid his right hand around her hip, and bore her aloft. In an instant, she was cradled in his arms, staring up into his handsome smile and gentle eyes. "Oh goodness," she gasped. It was sudden, unusual, and possibly inappropriate—all things that might normally have sent her reeling. Instead, she drew her forelegs close to her chest and locked her gaze on his. Her mind warned her of danger, but her heart felt as safe as it did with any of her friends.
Without another word, Iron Will pushed through the door and into the darkened cottage. Sleeping animals rested all about, but the minotaur avoided them deftly as he wove a slow path to the master bedroom. Of all the rooms in Fluttershy's cottage, only this one was devoid of critters. Iron Will walked up to the side of a bed, cast an uncertain glance at her borderline-obsessive collection of pillows, then smiled mischievously.
"And so ends the adventure of the pub-conquering heroine," he whispered.
Fluttershy did not want it to end. The impulse ran through her like an electric shock, and she offered no resistance. In one quick motion, she turned her muzzle up and pressed her lips to those of Iron Will. The kiss was dainty at first, both inexperienced and a bit uncertain. However, when Iron Will brought his free hand up to caress her cheek, Fluttershy left all hesitation behind. Her kisses became forceful, almost hungry, evocative of a deep and terrible loneliness inside her that friendship had never reached. It was not long before her tongue dove between his lips. They parted easily before her advance, and she tasted the bittersweet flavor of the drinks they'd shared. The action was not playful, but needy. She wanted him, and she wanted him to know that without a shadow of a doubt.
The time for which the kiss endured seemed like an eternity to Fluttershy, one that she felt happy to lose herself in. Eventually though, the strain on her neck became too great and she pulled back with a slowness that spoke of her wish to continue. She pushed on his upper lip as she withdrew her tongue and planted one last kiss, light as a feather, on the corner of his mouth before settling back into his arms. Every shallow breath still carried the taste of Iron Will. She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, completely lost in surging emotion. "I'm sorry," she lied. "Um, I didn't mean to be so . . . so . ."
Iron Will looked very much surprised, but it wasn't long before a confident and happy smile adorned his face. "That'd be a cryin' shame, Flutterhoney. Somethin' that feels that good shouldn't be no accident."
As he laid her down amidst the pillows and reached for the edge of the comforter, Fluttershy unfolded her wings and did her level best to look inviting. "D-do you want to stay?"
"I do," said Iron Will, though he pulled the covers up and began to tuck her in. "But Iron Will never takes advantage of a mare, especially one he cares about." Noting Fluttershy's look of disappointment, he added, "Still, Iron Will might be in town for a few days longer than expected." He leaned down and gave her a kiss of his own, controlled but affectionate. "Good night, sunshine."

Derpy Hooves recoiled from Fluttershy and thudded against the headboard.

"Oh goodness," gasped Fluttershy. "Is something wrong?"

Derpy felt a sweat coming on. Her headache pounded, her mouth panted, and her mind reeled at what she'd just seen—what she'd just felt. "Get away from me," she whispered.

"What?" asked Fluttershy, utterly surprised. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" Derpy shot back. The pain in her head was nearly unbearable. "You just sat there and cried about your problems until the guy of your dreams came along and fixed everything! You're a failure just like me. The only difference is that you got lucky."

Fluttershy's mouth fell open and her brow furrowed. "N-now just hold on a minute. That's not fair!"

Derpy groaned in frustration and pushed her head into a nearby pillow. "I don't care! Just go away! Whatever it is that I need to do, you wouldn't know the first thing about it!"

A few moments later, Fluttershy stepped into the upstairs hallway and shut the door behind her. "Oh fiddlefeathers," she exclaimed in an emphatic whisper. "This isn't working at all, not one bit."

Iron Will leaned against a nearby wall with a knowing smile. "Sounds like it's time for Plan B."

Fluttershy looked up at her husband, aghast at his suggestion. "Oh dear, are you sure? I've never used that on a pony before."

Iron Will leaned out from the wall and began to walk downstairs, causing the tiny bell on his left ear to ring its melodious tune. "There's a first time for everything, honeybunch."

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [4/9]

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In the tall grass between Fluttershy's cottage and the border of the Everfree Forest, Spike walked alone. He sniffed at the sweet-smelling breeze and his eyes scanned the woods for motion. He looked to be the very image of a knight on patrol, but Spike had no illusions about his purpose here, or lack thereof. Twilight had sent Derpy to this cottage for two reasons: the kindness of Fluttershy and the protection of Iron Will. Spike had been forced to ask for guard duty. After five months of training, he thought, I still have to ask.

His eyes spied movement in the grass. He reached back, flicked the safety strap off the hilt of his sword, and pulled it from its scabbard. When Spike blinked and looked again, it was nothing—perhaps a trick of the light. He kept the sword drawn, however. Just holding it at the ready eased his irritation, and he very much wanted to find something out here to use it on.

A thistle shifted in the breeze. Spike whirled about and nicked the tip away, smiling in satisfaction. He held the blade level with his imaginary foe and gave what he felt was a cocksure grin. "Screw Loose. Thought you could sneak up on me, eh?" He turned and lashed out at an overgrown dandelion, scattering its seeds in the wind. "No such luck, you flower—ahem! I mean, foul creature. You'll never get past Spike, Captain of the Guard!" He struck out at something at the edge of his vision, only to find the blade arrested by a skillful pair of hands. Spike's mouth fell open. "Iron?!"

Iron Will held the blade between his palms and smiled. "Looks like even the Captain of the Guard is no match for Iron Will."

Spike loosed his grip on the blade and backed up. "Gosh, I'm sorry! I had no idea it was you."

Iron Will chuckled. He flipped the blade over and offered it back to its owner. "Be more careful from now on, Spike. What if I'd been Derpy Hooves comin' to pay you a visit?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Spike affirmed as he sheathed the sword. "So what are you doing out here? I thought you'd be helping Fluttershy."

"Flutterhoney don't need no help doin' what she does best," Iron Will replied. "So Iron Will decided to check up on his purple homeboy."

Spike shrugged and gestured toward the open field. "Nothing much going on out here."

"Is that so?" Iron Will replied. He flexed his brawny arms and made a playful jab. "Well, if you've got nothin' else to do, why not get in some practice? Work off a little steeaam?"

Part of Spike questioned whether that was a good idea when they were supposed to be protecting the cottage, but he quickly realized that between the two of them they had a total view of the approach from the forest side. He drew the sword from his back, this time with the scabbard on so as not to inflict injury. "Not a bad idea. So, offense or defense?"

Iron Will responded by assuming a boxer's orthodox stance and throwing a powerful left cross.

Spike reacted instinctively, blocking just in the nick of time. "Whoa!" he exclaimed as the force of the blow rattled his sword and caused him to backpedal. "Okay, defense it is." Iron Will's punches came hard and fast, but in familiar patterns. Spike was used to this by now. He focused on dodging—blocking all the attacks from an opponent of Iron Will's strength and mass would only wear him down.

"Doin' good," grunted Iron Will as he pressed the assault. "Been a while since Iron Will's seen you this serious. Ya! When was the last time, about five months ago?"

"So what?" Spike barked defensively. "I've got a -ugh- good reason to be."

"Do you now? Ha!" Iron Will smirked and masked the movement of his rear hand. "Did Miss Rarity reconsider?"

"Wha?"

Iron Will saw an opening and took it, delivering a fierce overhand to Spike's forehead.

"OW!" Spike exclaimed. He stumbled backward and brought a hand to his head.

Iron Will opened both palms. "Whoa! Sorry, Spike. You usually block that one." He smirked. "Got somethin' on your mind? Wanna take five?"

Spike shook his head and resumed his defensive posture. "Nah, I'm good. Better watch yourself though—I might just bite next time."

"Touchy subject, huh?" jeered Iron Will. He closed his fists and advanced once more.

Spike scowled. "I'm over it."

"Are you now?" Iron Will emphasized his question with a right hook. "Iron Will hasn't seen that look on your face since—ya!—since you first asked him for help with learnin' how to fight." He threw a one-two combo, happy to see it hit thin air as Spike bobbed and weaved. "Back then, any fool could've seen why. Ha!" He delivered an uppercut that met with Spike's scabbard. "Your lady Rarity got hurt, and that didn't sit well with you." He mixed up his hoofwork to get his opponent guessing. "But Rares ain't your main squeeze anymore, and here you are truckin' along full speed like nothin's changed!"

Spike, who sensed a curve ball coming his way, grasped the sword at both ends. "What are you getting at?"

Iron Will relaxed his stance just a tad. "Not what—who? Who're you fightin' for, Spike?"

Spike relaxed his stance as well. "Huh?"

CLANG!

The head fake worked. Iron Will delivered a quick jab directly to the sword which, due to Spike's momentarily weakened grip, popped out of his hands and smacked him in the face.

"Aw, come on!" declared Spike as he checked for a nosebleed.

Iron Will raised an eyebrow. "Wanna quit?"

"To heck with this," said Spike. He changed his stance and raised the sword high. "Time for offense!" The young dragon closed the distance in a flash, swinging left, right, and center in a furious assault.

Iron Will blocked and deflected every blow, whistling as he did. "Good energy, Spike, but where's it comin' from?"

"Who cares?!" Spike exclaimed. He redoubled his efforts.

Iron Will's arms moved in a flurry of defensive motion. "You should, idjit! Say it was Rainbow Dash instead of Derpy in trouble now."

"What about it? Ya!"

"Wouldya get this worked up over her?"

"You're full of it, Iron!"

"Okay then! Go ahead and say it!"

Spike brought down a furious overhead cut that bounced off of Iron Will's forearm. "Say what?!"

Iron Will slid his arm back and grabbed hold of the scabbard. "Say you don't care if Derpy ever holds you in her arms again!"

Spike grinned. Iron Will had underestimated him. He pulled on the sword handle and shouted, "I don't—" The memory of Derpy's embrace hit home. His voice locked up and his grip faltered. "I don't . . ."

WHACK!

Instead of retrieving his sword, Spike received a hard punch to the gut. Coughing and sputtering, he let go of the weapon, doubled over, and fell to the ground.

Iron Will whistled. "Boy, Iron Will hasn't whooped you that good in months." He knelt down and offered an open hand. "Are you startin' to get the feelin' that you're not on your A-game, Spike?"

"To say the least," Spike gasped. He took the helping hand and got back on his feet. "How did you know?"

"You don't need a mention if you're payin' attention," quipped Iron Will. "Looked to me like you had more than protectin' your friends on the brain. Guess Iron Will was right on the money."

Spike rubbed at his bruised gut and made for his fallen weapon. "It's crazy, right? One hug and I can't get her out of my head." He picked up the sword and stared at his warped reflection in the brass hilt. "Am I that pathetic? Do I need Rarity so much that I'll latch onto anypony just to keep going?"

Iron Will sighed. "Look at you, already treatin' this like a bad thing."

Spike raised an eyebrow as he slung the sword across his back. "Now I know you're joking. We were both there when Twilight warned us about what could happen."

Iron Will folded his arms. "In case you missed the point of this little lesson here, Iron Will's gonna give it to you straight n' clear."

Spike looked up at the minotaur. "Okay, shoot."

"First," said Iron Will as he raised one finger. "Quit lookin' for ways to not think about what you're feelin'. You're gonna have to think when you fight, and if you got a lotta thinkin' that hasn't been done, its gonna trip you up."

Spike realized the truth in his friend's words, but didn't feel like congratulating Iron Will for hitting the nail on the head. Thus, he frowned fiercely when he said, "Okay, got it. What else?"

Iron Will pulled his own mouth down at both corners. "Take this off your face, at least when you're around the ladies."

Spike touched a claw to his lips. "My mouth? Really?"

Iron Will let his hands fall to his hips and grinned. "What's a gentleman always got for a lady?"

It dawned on Spike that he'd made an actual error. "A smile?"

Iron Will walked over and clapped Spike on the back. "See? You know a profit from a profit margin. If you're gonna fight, then do it right. And if life treats you vile . . "

Spike nodded and forced a grin. It was genuine, even if a bit lopsided. "Give it a smile." He did so for a moment longer, but soon replaced it with a slack-jawed stare.

"Come on, Spike, you gotta try harder than that. Show me those teeth."

Spike pointed behind Iron Will. "Um, are those beavers chewing on a piece of armor?"

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [5/9]

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[High Noon of Day 31]
Derpy Hooves gazed out the open window at the clear blue sky. A few hours rest had gotten rid of both her headache and the strange flashes, but it had done nothing for her sense of unease. Even in this wonderful room where nothing talked, nothing moved, and nothing threatened, she still felt tense. Derpy's eyes stared directly at different parts of the sky. She wished fervently that her mind could be like what she saw, beautiful and carefree.

"No matter what these ponies have told you, you're nothing more than a burden on each and every one of them."

So what? thought Derpy as she snuggled down against the comforter. Maybe that's all I can be.

The door to the room opened with a tiny squeak from its hinges.

Derpy grimaced. "Not again," she groaned. "I told you I'm not hungry."

"Okay then," said Fluttershy. "Are you thirsty?"

With that, Fluttershy delivered a powerful double-hoofed kick to the bed frame. The bed upended, sending the unsuspecting Derpy Hooves sailing out the window with a startled yelp. She fell through the open air in a perfect arc and landed in the brook below with a resounding sploosh.

Derpy broke the surface of the crystal waters, shocked and chilled to the bone. She gasped for air and looked about only to find three squirrels watching her from the top of the tiny bridge nearby. "W-what are you—" she began to ask when the three rodents answered the question for her. Each of them held up tiny scorecards that read 10, 10, and 9 from left to right. Derpy's mouth could only hang open at the sight.

Fluttershy exited the cottage through the front door and offered a saccharine smile. "Rise and shine! up and at 'em," she declared.

"Why?" the sopping-wet Derpy exclaimed. "I was having such a good—"

"I saaiid," interrupted Fluttershy. "Up, up, up!"

A pair of obedient otters swam up underneath Derpy and pushed her ashore in an instant. The beleaguered pegasus mare pulled herself to her hooves, if for no other reason than to get out of the ice-cold water. "What is this?" she moaned. "I don't even . . . ugh."

"Red Leader," Fluttershy called out in a singsong voice. "Your turn!"

A flock of birds led by an oversized cardinal descended on Derpy. She recoiled from their sudden appearance, but soon found herself buffeted from all sides. The birds beat their collective wings in furious rhythm and, within mere moments, they'd thoroughly blow-dried their target. They rocketed back into the sky, leaving Derpy Hooves looking less like a pony and more like a puffball of gray and blonde hair with a pair of angry amber eyes.

"Good job, little birdies," said Fluttershy. She waved goodbye, then wasted no time in grabbing a nearby bucket and plopping it in front of Derpy.

Derpy Hooves looked inside. This was clearly animal feed. She looked back up at Fluttershy. "What are you doing?"

"Wrong question," answered Fluttershy. She pointed a hoof at Derpy. "The right question is, what are you doing? You want to stay cooped up in my upstairs room all day? Well, that's fine by me."

Derpy raised an eyebrow. "It is?"

"Sure," said Fluttershy. She tapped the bucket. "But rent isn't free."

Derpy balked. "You're charging me?"

Fluttershy leaned in close, sugar-sweet smile unwavering. "Um, look at it this way. You want to find out what your Cutie Mark means, right?"

Derpy's eyes narrowed. That motivation felt more distant than it should have. Hadn't it been only yesterday that she'd decided not to accept a job on Sweet Apple Acres for that very reason? Derpy sighed and nodded.

"Good," chirped Fluttershy. "Then why don't we find out if you've got a knack for taking care of animals? Shall we?"

[Afternoon of Day 31]
Within a matter of hours, Derpy had fed and handled more animals than she'd seen in her entire life. From the tiniest mouse to the strongest bear, it seemed that every single critter for miles had some sort of dependency on Fluttershy. Derpy found it hard to keep up with the caretaker's practiced pace, and not simply due to the number of her charges. Applejack's training had come to naught. No matter how careful she tried to be, Derpy made mistakes at a rate even she was unfamiliar with. The irrepressible Fluttershy took her failures in stride no matter how amateurish the error, but this only made Derpy's bad mood worse.

I don't want to do this, Derpy thought to herself over and over again as the laborious afternoon wore on.

Eventually, the question met with an internal rejoinder. Then what do you want to do?

Go home, thought Derpy, but that thought troubled her. Where was "home" anyway? The library? No, even though she was welcome there, that was conditional on her continued progress. The apartment, then? No, although the peace and quiet of that desolate place seemed an appealing choice at the moment. When Derpy thought of home, her mind reached out for something it couldn't grasp. There was something intangible, hazy, and half-forgotten at the edge of her memories. It was warm, it was inviting, and Derpy was certain that she'd called it "home" once upon a time. When was that? she wondered. What was it?

A squirming motion underneath her called Derpy's attention back to the task at hoof. Fluttershy had charged her with checking a half-score of rabbits for ticks while she attended to another ten. The specimen currently in her hooves, a reddish-brown cottontail buck, had taken it upon himself to be uncooperative.

Derpy's eyes narrowed in frustration. "Hold still, you."

The rabbit glared back at her with equal annoyance and resumed kicking and squirming. No matter how Derpy tried, the cottontail deftly defied her every attempt to roll him over. The other rabbits in her set wiggled their noses in amusement.

Derpy did not share their mirth. My search for my talent is going nowhere, she thought, there's a crazy pony out to get me, and my dreams are . . . I don't even know what's going on there! She gritted her teeth. And on top of all that, you're making things hard on me for no reason! Her mind knew that the proper course of action was to ask Fluttershy for help. Her body decided that more pressure would solve the problem. Beneath her, something snapped.

The cottontail let out a deafening squeal. Derpy recoiled and watched the injured rabbit flop about on the lawn, unable to use its left hind leg. Her mouth dried up and her heart raced. Did I really just . . . ?

"Oh my goodness!" declared Fluttershy as she descended on the scene. "What happened, Russet Bunny?" She knelt down and listened to the rabbit's painful grunts before turning to Derpy with a stern gaze. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. How could you hurt such a poor defenseless bunny?"

Derpy shook her head. "I . . . I didn't mean to, honest!" She couldn't believe the next words that came to mind, and similarly, she couldn't stop them from coming out. "I just don't know what went wrong!"

"Well I do," responded Fluttershy as she rummaged about in her saddlebags. "When you bottle up bad thoughts, they find a way out sooner or later. How about all that bad stuff you've been moping about today, the stuff you don't want to talk about?" She looked up from her search. "Is this how you want to deal with it? Is this who you want to be?"

The question shook Derpy to the core. She remembered the last night she'd spent in her old apartment, the night she realized that she'd "gone bad." The truth then had been plain as day, but she'd never asked herself why that had come to pass. Am I doing the same thing to myself again? she wondered. A knot formed in her throat as she stared at the injured rabbit. No, it's worse this time.

At last, Fluttershy found the object of her search. She pulled a bottle of tiny green translucent capsules from her saddlebag and set about opening it. "There there, Russet Bunny," she soothed. "Everything's going to be just fine." She took one of the capsules in her mouth and bit down on it with an audible pop, then knelt once more and kissed the cottontail's broken leg. A wave of luminescent green energy spread from the kiss and wreathed about the injured limb, soaking into it as butter into toast. By the time that Fluttershy had risen to her hooves, the rabbit was already testing out its apparently functional leg.

Derpy stared open-mouthed at the sight. "What was that?"

"A gem seed," answered Fluttershy. "Twilight made them for me. Every seed has some of her healing magic inside."

The mention of Twilight Sparkle and the sight of her good works only enhanced Derpy's feelings of guilt. Right now, at this very moment, the unicorn mare she admired was out in the forest hunting for the cause of her woes. And as for me, thought Derpy. What am I doing?

The sternness returned to her face. "Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

Derpy bowed her head. "I'm sorry . . . for everything, really. I shouldn't have been so rude to you and—"

"Oh, I don't mind that at all," interrupted Fluttershy. She pointed down at the cottontail who'd turned his back on Derpy. "I meant, what do you have to say to him?"

Derpy swallowed, walked forward, and brought herself down to the rabbit's level. "I'm sorry, Russet Bunny. I wasn't thinking straight. I'd never want to hurt you or your friends." Her eyes teared up at the very thought. "Can you forgive me?"

The rabbit kept its arms crossed and its back turned.

Fluttershy brought her face close as well. "Now now, Russet Bunny. I know that you were pestering Miss Derpy too." She poked the rabbit in the gut. "Take a look. Don't you see how much she wants to be your friend?"

Russet Bunny sighed and turned about to find a splayed-out and watery-eyed Derpy Hooves on the point of breaking down. Unable to maintain his air of righteous indignation, the cottontail hopped forward a step, reared up on its hind legs, and offered a paw.

Derpy felt ecstatic that this failure hadn't cost her the fluffy critter's affections. She smiled brilliantly and shook the tiny paw with her hoof as carefully as she possibly could.

"See?" asked Fluttershy. "Wouldn't you rather be the kind of pony who . . ." Her voice trailed off as her eyes spied movement from above. The flock of birds from earlier descended and whirled about their caretaker, each of them twittering madly. "What?" exclaimed Fluttershy. Genuine worry crossed her face. "Are you sure?"

Derpy sat up. "What's going on?"

Fluttershy spread her wings in alarm. "Red Leader says he can't find Spike or my Willykins anywhere!"

Derpy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Willykins?"

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [6/9]

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Within minutes, Derpy Hooves found herself staring up at the imposing treeline of the Everfree Forest. Horrible stories about this place were practically a food group in the town of Ponyville. Even in her time as a comparative recluse, she'd heard the tales of strange weather, moving plants, and ferocious creatures that consumed those foolish enough to breach its borders.

Fluttershy stood amidst the wide tree trunks and waved to her hesitant companion. "Come on, Derpy!"

Derpy gulped. The line of foliage awash in verdant green looked inviting enough, but the stories filled her head with fear. "Really, Fluttershy? You're sure they didn't go out for a . . ." Wait, she thought. What is it that guys like to do? She pondered that for a moment. Oh, right. "A drink or something?"

Fluttershy shook her head emphatically. "I'm positive. Those two would never leave us unguarded, and this is the last place that Mister Beaverton saw them." She cast a worried glance into the woods. "They're not anywhere near the cottage, so they must have been attacked." She gasped. "Or maybe even taken." Fluttershy began to prance in place. "Who knows what's keeping them in there? We have to go after them, Derpy!"

Derpy raised an uncertain hoof. "But, I . . ."

Realizing that her body language wasn't doing her any favors, Fluttershy stopped prancing. She breathed in deeply and let out a slow exhale. "You know, there's no reason to be scared," she said with a fresh smile. "You'll be perfectly safe with me in there. I'm a lot tougher than I look."

Derpy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not scared." She most certainly was, but the idea of being somehow less brave than Fluttershy didn't agree with her one bit.

"Good to hear," chirped Fluttershy. She turned and trotted forth into the underbrush. "Stay close and try to keep up, okay?"

The path that Fluttershy cut through the towering trees grew dark and narrow within seconds. Overgrown trees with spindly claw-like branches leaned in from all sides. Light seemed to disappear between their interlocked branches. Inequine eyes peeked out from every shadow. However, none of this compared to the sound. All the twitter and buzz of spring in the fields of Fluttershy's homestead gave way to an oppressive silence here, as if nothing within these woods dared make any noise at all.

Derpy breathed in the overwhelming smell of pine and concentrated on the crunch of twigs underneath her hooves in an attempt to steady her nerves. It didn't work as well as she'd hoped, so Derpy decided to give voice to the thoughts drifting through her mind—the ones that didn't have to do with scary-looking trees. "You really care about them, don't you?"

Fluttershy continued on without looking back. "Um, about who now?"

"All of them," said Derpy. "Iron Will, Spike, your animals . . ."

"Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"

"What if you get hurt because you care?" asked Derpy. "What if that's what's about to happen? Is it still worth it?"

Fluttershy glanced back with genuine curiosity in her cyan eyes.

Derpy bit her lip, suddenly aware of the awkwardness of her question. "To care that much, I mean."

Fluttershy smiled. "It sure is. If there was no danger in caring for others, then what would kindness be worth?"

That gave Derpy some food for thought, but a stray bit of her earlier resentment leapt to the fore. Isn't she still just lucky? Derpy wondered. What if things had gone bad from the beginning? What if she was alone?

"Um, why'd you leave yourself off the list?"

Derpy refocused her gaze. "What?"

A hint of blush appeared on Fluttershy's cheeks. "I care about you too, you know."

Derpy frowned and averted her eyes. "All I did was mess up, call you names, and hurt your critters." Her throat tightened up. "Why would you?"

Fluttershy turned her eyes up toward the evergreen canopy above. "You'll never make a lot of friends if you're always waiting for a good . . . reason." She stopped in her tracks and looked about. Her eyes widened. Her jaw hung ajar. "W-what in the world?"

Derpy saw it as well. A dead forest stretched out before them. Trees full of brown leaves, a carpet of rotting vegetation, and a dense fog were all that remained ahead.

"This can't be," whispered Fluttershy. "Not in the spring. Who could do this?" Tears welled in her eyes. "All those poor trees . . ." She lifted her head and raised her voice as far as it would go. "Iron! Spike! Where are you?!"

Derpy coughed on stagnant air that smelled of refuse, but lent her voice to the cause. "Iron!" she shouted. "Spike?!" Only silence answered her call. Derpy turned to shout in another direction and found herself staring into a gaping maw. It was one of several on the creature that stood before her.

Derpy froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her vocal chords seized up. Standing before her was the living form of her nightmares. Its shape barely resembled that of a pony. Its black sludge-like skin oozed down its sides. Mouths full of teeth snapped and drooled from points all over its body. Derpy locked eyes with the creature. It had none, only twin crimson flames that burned in dripping sockets. Only one thought made its way past Derpy's abject fear: a single word, one she'd never before uttered in her life. Phage.

Fluttershy let out a sigh. "Maybe we should go further in. What do you think, Der— AAH!"

Her companion's shriek snapped Derpy out of her paralysis. She jumped back from the monster and bumped into Fluttershy, only to have her caretaker push back. Derpy soon saw why. The creatures, the sludge-beasts from her dreams, were all around them.

"W-what are they?!" Fluttershy asked in a shrill voice. "T-they're h-hideous!"

Derpy spied plates of golden armor underneath the black goo. She knew what they must have once been, and her mind reeled at the thought. "This can't be happening," she whispered. "I'm dreaming. I have to be! They're not supposed to be here!"

A thick tendril sprung forth from the nearest creature and lashed out at Derpy. It would have made contact if not for Fluttershy. Derpy found herself pulled to the ground by her friend's hoof and staring right into her eyes.

"I hate to be the one to say it," gasped Fluttershy, "but they look pretty real to me!" She pulled Derpy with her in a fearsome roll that sent the gray pegasus mare barreling across the forest floor. Derpy came to a skidding halt well outside the circle of sludge-beasts and watched as Fluttershy spread her wings, propelling herself into the treetops.

"G-good idea," stuttered Derpy as she spread her own. "We need to get out of here!"

Fluttershy, however, landed next to her and folded her own wings back. The look on her delicate face was one of stolid determination.

"What are you doing?!" Derpy exclaimed. "You can't fight them!"

"Fight them?" asked Fluttershy. She smiled. "Oh goodness, no. But Willykins and Spike are still out here, and these things might have something to do with it."

"Right," affirmed Derpy with a tug on Fluttershy's arm. "That's why we need to go get help! We can't do this on our own!"

Fluttershy's smile remained. "I couldn't have said it better myself." She raised her head and shouted into the still air. "KINDNESS!"

The rotten ground between the two ponies and the horde split open with a thunderous crack to reveal a cascade of rainbow-colored light. The sludge-beasts hissed and pulled away, allowing a golden necklace to rocket forth from the depths. The gap closed as quickly as it had appeared, and the Element of Kindness spun through the air, latching itself around Fluttershy's neck with an audible click.

The butterfly-shaped morganite gem at its center flashed twice. "READY."

Fluttershy looked down at the necklace. "Um, Crest Open please."

"OPEN UP."

The core gem receded and exposed the glittering innards of its golden crest. A whirlwind of pinkish light cascaded from within, wreathing Fluttershy in its glowing embrace. The engraved wings on either side of the center jewel split off of their own accord. They reshaped themselves into a pair of golden butterfly ornaments that ascended to Fluttershy's ears. As the curl in her mane straightened, the ornaments pulled aside two flowing locks and latched on, causing them to fall in front of her ears rather than behind. When at last the whirlwind ceased, Fluttershy's mane rested in a princess cut with a pair of sidelocks that nearly trailed the ground. One eye remained covered by her straightened bangs, but the other shone with an inner light—a perfect match for her serene smile.

Derpy simply gawked. "W-what's that gonna do? If you touch them then you'll—" The thought of ponies vomiting black sludge grabbed hold of her vocal chords. "You'll . . ."

Fluttershy shot her a questioning gaze. "Touch them? Why do you think that . . ." Understanding dawned on her radiant features. "Oh, I see. You're thinking of how Applejack uses Honesty, aren't you?" She smiled. "I'm different." Fluttershy turned to face the advancing sludge-beasts and assumed a wide stance. Her wings spread open, accompanied by the sound of her unmistakable voice.

"Those who are able, those I've made strong, stand now by my side, and right this awful wrong!"

The light of the Element's gem and that of her eyes strobed from left to right, resembling nothing so much as the rotating candlelit beacons on police wagons in Canterlot. And . . . nothing else happened.

Derpy's eyes drifted from Fluttershy to the sludge-beasts and back again. "Are you rhyming them to death?" she asked with a voice cracked by rising panic. "'Cause it's not working!"

Fluttershy's smile remained steadfast. "Go ahead and get behind me, Derpy."

Derpy did as she was told, feeling that she had little choice but to trust in her companion's confidence. As she ducked behind Fluttershy's wings, the ground shook beneath her. "Oh Celestia," she squeaked. "What now?"

Boom.

Boom.

The quakes came one after another with the sound of distant thunder, growing louder and more powerful with each successive impact.

Fluttershy swished the tip of her tail around Derpy's hooves. "You're about to meet a very special friend of mine."

BOOM!

Fluttershy's friend was an ursa minor. Deadened trees parted before the towering beast with earsplitting cracks. Its form was that of a bear measuring several stories tall. Its coat was a perfect replica of the starry night sky. Its deafening roar pierced the stillness with the very essence of wrath. Even the sludge-beasts froze in place at the sight.

"Hi, Brutus!" Fluttershy exclaimed with the chipper joy of a cheerleader.

Derpy Hooves stared in slack-bodied awe as the massive creature stared at them with its yellowed eyes, each the size of a basketball. Drool and froth oozed from its copious set of fangs. Brutus responded to Fluttershy with a ferocious snort, but something about the ursa minor's expression carried the barest hint of subservience.

Derpy couldn't believe her eyes. Is that . . . gratitude?

Fluttershy pointed at the sludge-beasts. "Um, could you pretty please wipe the floor with them?"

Brutus needed no second bidding. With a fearsome bark and a teeth-chattering snarl, it bent low and swiped at their enemies. Claws the size of ponies ripped through the sludge-beasts, whose bodies squelched and clanged as they were torn asunder. Another blow followed, then another, scattering the foul creatures and much of the dead forest to the wind.

Fluttershy pumped a hoof skyward and flapped her wings back and forth. "Go, Brutus, go!" she cheered.

In spite of her overwhelming sense of danger, Derpy Hooves found herself quietly joining in. "G-go, Brutus."

The sludge-beasts fell one by one to the ferocious assault, yet they simply stood in place as if nothing were happening. However, when it came time for the last few survivors to receive the business end of the ursa minor's rage, Brutus's attacks came to a sudden halt. The claws of his right paw were stuck in one of the creatures.

"Come on, Brutus!" exclaimed the enthusiastic Fluttershy. "You can do it! There's nobody stronger than you!"

Brutus roared in frustration and pulled with all its gargantuan might, but the sludge-beast's hold on his paw rooted him to the spot. Without warning, remains of the scattered former knights exploded into gross blossoms of swirling black tendrils. They latched onto Brutus's skin wherever they could find purchase, further anchoring him to the spot and pulling him earthward as they expanded their grip.

For the first time since she'd summoned her Element, Fluttershy looked uneasy. "B-Brutus?"

The ursa minor roared in dismay. With one last shudder of resistance, he plunged to the ground. The force of his titanic body's impact shook the leaves from the trees. A cascade of red and brown color fell all around the combatants, as a net of oily blackness cast itself over Brutus. He roared again—this time it resembled a cry for help.

"Oh my goodness!" Fluttershy gasped with one shaking hoof held to her mouth in horror. "Oh goodness, no!"

Derpy knew why her companion shook. She was quite familiar with it—the need to act colliding with sheer helplessness.

Brutus managed one last bellow before the black sludge plunged into his mouth. His eyes had turned to solid red orbs of sheer panic, and very little of his brilliant coat remained visible through the expanding blackness. With a sputtering whine and an explosive bang, his eyes burst into crimson flame. His own mouth closed forever, sealed shut by the warping touch of the sludge-beasts. New mouths full of jagged fangs opened up everywhere on his oozing skin. His claws splintered, tearing themselves apart to form warped, evil-looking blades. More of the same sharp-edged bones sprang up between his numerous maws. And, as what had once been Brutus lifted itself off the ground, golden plates of royal knight armor surfaced from the sludge, completing the horrific picture of a towering abomination wielding all the implements of the lives that composed it.

Ice water ran through Derpy's veins as she watched the conjoined monstrosity thrash about. Her mind had a name for this too. Amalgam, Derpy thought in sheer terror. Phage Amalgam.

Fluttershy touched a hoof to the jewel of her Element. "Brutus?" she whispered.

The Amalgam let out a warped scream from its many mouths, the sound of flesh defiled and life desecrated. It swung out at the two ponies with the wicked bone-blades of what had once been Brutus's arm. The appendage extended far beyond its previous physical limit in pursuit of its prey.

Fluttershy reacted fast. She grabbed hold of Derpy and spun the both of them out of harm's way in a dance-like evasion that, unfortunately, brought their backs up against a precipice. Derpy looked over the edge and suffered momentary vertigo. In the fading light of sunset, she couldn't even see the bottom.

"What do we do now?!" Derpy exclaimed.

Fluttershy took in shallow breaths and fought the tears welling in her glowing eyes. "We . . ." She gulped and steadied her grip on Derpy's shoulders. "You're gonna run for it."

Derpy's heart sank in her chest. "Just me?" The thought repulsed her. "No! We'll go together! I don't wanna go alone!"

Fluttershy's gaze grew stern. "I can't . . . No, I won't let this happen to poor Brutus!" She tensed up as she witnessed the Amalgam begin to move. "Get your wings ready."

"No!" Derpy shouted back. She pulled away from Fluttershy, but the superequine strength granted by her Element made premature escape an impossibility. "I don't wanna go alone!" At the sight of the advancing black terror and the determined eyes of her caretaker, Derpy's defenses dropped completely. "I don't wanna lose you, Fluttershy!"

Fluttershy sensed that it was now or never. "Fly, and don't look back!" she shouted. Then, with one swift push, she sent Derpy Hooves careening over the cliff. The Amalgam lunged for the kill.

Derpy's wings locked up and she plummeted through the air with one hoof still outstretched toward the receding cliffside. She opened her mouth to cry out the name of her protector, to wish with the sheer force of her vocal chords that what had just transpired was not so. However, the back of her head connected with a tree branch. The branch splintered into pieces, and the unconscious Derpy Hooves fell into the darkness below.

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [7/9]

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[Evening of Day 31]
Derpy came to her senses on a soft bed of moss amongst the towering trees. She opened her eyes to the sight of tiny white flowers, beacons of flourishing life in the midst of grayish gloom. A terrible ache pulsated through her head. Derpy brought a hoof to the back of her skull, then brought it forward to find the appendage stained with blood. That worried her, but there was little she could do about it.

Derpy pulled herself to her hooves and gazed back up the sheer cliff she'd fallen from. The top remained obscured by fog, but distant thuds spoke of a continuing conflict above. Derpy unfolded her wings on an impulse, then reconsidered and allowed them to fall flat. Her face grew hot, her eyes itched, and her nose drew in the pungent odor of seared muffins. She wanted to ascend. She wanted to save Fluttershy, but knew that it was impossible. Nothing had changed. Whether she stood in the midst of the Everfree Forest or a run-down apartment complex, she was equally helpless. She knew this, that there was nothing she could do, and yet . . . Something inside her pounded against that knowledge. Like a closed fist pounding against a cast-iron door, a desire as powerful as it was indiscernible railed against her misgivings.

A rustling in the foliage drew Derpy's attention. She spun about to find the diminutive form of Russet Bunny gazing up at her from the midst of the white flowers. "Gosh," Derpy exclaimed with a hoof to her chest. "You scared me."

The rabbit brought a hind leg up to give its floppy ears a momentary scratch. It wasn't capable of smiling, but something about its innocent eyes soothed Derpy's fears a bit. Unfortunately, the effect was only momentary.

"Wait, what are you doing here?" Derpy asked. "You've gotta run back to the cottage, Russet! There's awful things out here and . . ." Her voice trailed off at the thought of her next words. "Fluttershy, Iron Will, and Spike . . . They're probably . . ."

Russet Bunny did not answer, but another rabbit popped up at his side. Then came another, and another. Within seconds, over a score of fluffy rabbits occupied the moss bed.

Derpy had no idea what to make of this. "You've all got to run away! You'll get hurt, or worse!"

Russet Bunny simply cocked his head and turned away. He lifted a tiny paw, gesturing into the fog. One after another, the rabbits hopped into the underbrush, each in the exact direction indicated by Russet.

Derpy stared in awe at the sight. "You . . . You want me to go this way?"

Russet Bunny nodded and bounced off. Derpy, realizing full well that she had no idea where to go in the first place, followed after him. She found the pace at which the rabbits ran through the foliage difficult to match. These harmless-looking critters could run as the crow flies, no matter what was in their way. The appeared to swim through the loam and debris rather than run. At first, Derpy lagged behind, but the scene called to mind the movements made by Silver Cross as he'd chased down Iron Bound's slavers.

Derpy expanded her wings and gave a powerful flap, resulting in a noticeable burst of speed. She stumbled and nearly crashed headlong into a fallen beech, but another reflexive flap propelled her over the obstacle. Derpy tried again and found her rhythm. In no time at all, she ran right alongside Russet Bunny in their dash through the woodlands.

Trees whooshed by in a blur of motion on all sides, and Derpy again became uncertain. "Where are you taking me?"

One by one, the other bunnies disappeared into the underbrush. Russet Bunny remained right by her side as they continued their sprint, and Derpy soon saw the reason for his friends' departure. The silhouettes of sludge-beasts moved aimlessly through the trees, more of the former knights that Derpy's mind had called "Phage."

"Russet Bunny?" she whined.

The cottontail in question threw a comical midair salute and disappeared into the forest loam. Derpy fell head over hooves in her attempt to stop, landing in a heap on the level dirt of an old logger's trail. The splashing of a nearby waterfall drowned out all other sounds. Thus, Derpy could only stare in horror at the shambling forms moving silently through the mist. She pressed her teeth together to stop them from chattering. Had she made a mistake?

"Derpy?"

Derpy turned in the direction of the familiar voice only to gaze at the waterfall. She cocked her head to the side and had no time to react when a blue-furred arm broke through. The arm grabbed hold of her right leg, then pulled her past the curtain of water in surprisingly gentle fashion. Freshly soaked and shocked once more, Derpy found herself inside a small rock cavern with two very welcome companions.

"Iron!" she exclaimed with a brilliant smile. "Spike!" She lunged forward and grabbed hold of her dragon friend. "I'm so glad you're alive!" After a moment's firm embrace, she pulled back a bit to look at them properly. "What happened? Why are you in this weird cave?"

Spike raised a solitary claw. "That would be my fault. Me and Iron found a bunch of knight armor on the ground near the cottage. I saw something moving in the trees and went after it, but it was a total trap. Iron dived in to save me and . . ." He scratched at his dorsal spines.

"Those things out there boxed us in," said Iron Will. "You can't cut 'em, you can't punch 'em, and you can't burn 'em—we figured that much out pretty darn quick. They're not too fast, but they close ranks every time me n' Spike make for an opening. We couldn't fight 'em n' couldn't get past 'em, so they just kept pushin' us back. We came in here to try and lose 'em, but all they do is circle around." He touched the falling water. "They don't seem to be much for walkin' through this, so we're in a good old-fashioned stalemate. Iron Will n' Spike were just thinkin' about what to do when you came along. Wait . . ." His eyes narrowed. "Where's Flutterhoney?"

Derpy looked down at the ground. "We were together until the Phage attacked us."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "The what now?"

"The Phage," Derpy repeated. "I . . . I think that's what those black things are called." A wave of pain rushed through her head. She winced and brought a hoof to her wound. "Fluttershy and a big bear of hers tried to fight them, but it didn't work. She ended up throwing me over a cliff to . . ." She felt woozy and struggled with the last words. "To save me."

"Whoa, kiddo," cautioned Iron Will. He walked over and sat behind the dizzy pegasus mare, letting out a low whistle as he parted her mane. "That's some nice battle damage you've got there." He snapped his fingers. "Spike, toss my bag over." When the young dragon had done so, Iron Will fished out a roll of gauze and set about wetting his hands to clean the wound. "This might sting a bit, Derpy, but Iron Will's gonna have you fixed up in no time."

True to the minotaur's word, the cleansing did hurt, but not as much as Derpy thought it might. Quite the opposite, in fact—Iron Will clearly had experience in the dressing of injuries.

"Now what?" grumbled Spike. "These things took out an ursa minor? We're screwed."

"No," said Iron Will as he unrolled the gauze. "If Fluttershy's here, then there's somethin' we haven't tried yet."

"Is it worth trying?" asked Spike.

Iron Will flashed a grim smile. "Let's put it this way: if Iron Will's plan don't work, we should move right on to evacuatin' Ponyville." He twirled the bandage around Derpy's head and closed one eye in thought. "Gotta save my honeybunch first though, and those Phage bozos aren't gonna make that easy on us."

Spike drew his sword from its scabbard. He held it in his hands for a moment before tapping it with a cursory claw. He pondered the resulting sound for a moment, then said, "What if I can make a distraction?"

Both Derpy and Iron Will gave him worried looks.

"You know, draw those things off so you two can go after Fluttershy?" Spike elaborated. He waved the sword about. "I may not be able to hurt them, but I am faster than they are."

"You sure about that?" asked Iron Will.

Spike shrugged. "Sure as I can be without trying. You got a better idea?"

Iron Will sighed. "All right, Spikearoo. Whenever you're ready."

Spike turned to the waterfall. His expression waxed uncertain, but he tightened his grip on the sword handle and bent low for a headlong dash. "It'll take me a minute or so to clear them out," he warned.

Seized by a sudden sense of foreboding, Derpy reached out and touched a hoof to the young dragon's hand. "Spike?"

Spike turned to face the watery-eyed pegasus mare.

"You're gonna be okay, right?"

Spike wasn't sure, but he flashed a toothy grin all the same. "You won't even know I'm gone." With that, he burst through the curtain of water and began rapping his claws against the sword blade. "All right, you slimy good-for-nothing creeps!" he shouted above the clamor. "There's a big scaly hunk of dragon for you right here! Come on, move! I bet I taste delicious! Let's see you try and catch me! Yeah!"

Iron Will chuckled as he tied off the bandage around Derpy's head. "Can't call him a liar, can you? If he carries on that loud the whole time it really is gonna feel like he's right here."

Derpy simply shuddered in response, overwhelmed by worry and stress.

Iron Will walked over to a spot across from Derpy and sat down once more. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at her with absolute severity. "Now Derpy, Iron Will needs you to listen carefully to what he's got to say."

Derpy nodded wordlessly.

"Good girl," replied Iron. "Do you think you can lead us back to where Fluttershy is?"

"Yeah," said Derpy. "It kinda looked like that trail outside runs back up the cliff."

"Then that's where we'll go," said Iron, his voice low and soothing. "When we get out there, you need to stick close to old Iron Will, but I can't guarantee anythin' this time. If things go south, if it looks like Iron Will can't protect you anymore, I want you to spread your wings and fly back to Ponyville without a second thought. Once you're there, you go right to the Sheriff's Department and tell 'em what happened." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Can you promise me you'll do that?"

Derpy almost responded in the affirmative, but the regret of leaving Fluttershy behind still coursed through her mind. She bit at her lower lip and looked away.

Iron Will tightened his grip. "Promise me, Derpy. We aren't gonna have time to argue once we're out there."

Derpy looked upon the minotaur's weathered features and remembered that she was in the presence of one with a great deal of experience. She decided to trust his judgment, and nodded. "I promise."

The sounds of Spike's sword-rattling and coarse language grew distant. Iron Will watched the shadows moving outside the waterfall cave. He clenched and unclenched his fists in anticipation. "One more thing," he said. "I don't know if this is the right time to say this, but I might not get another chance." He looked back at Derpy. "You're wrong about Flutterhoney."

Derpy realized that the last thing Iron Will must have heard from her was her outburst in the cottage's upstairs room. She bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

Iron Will nodded. "I know you're sorry you said it, but you don't think you're wrong either, do you?"

It was true, but Derpy didn't want to say as much. She continued to stare at the floor, allowing the contradictory mixture of guilt and resentment to swirl around inside her.

"Truth is, Iron Will's the lucky failure."

Derpy looked up at him in disbelief. "Huh?"

Iron Will turned his eyes back to the moving shadows. "Iron Will was a wreck when he came back to Ponyville—spent his whole life thinkin' he was helpin' ponies with his seminars, but it just wasn't so. The money dried up when word got around, and Iron Will didn't know what to do with himself." He grimaced. "I came back to Ponyville to see the first pony who told me the truth, but I went to that bar where we actually met to get sloshed." His gaze returned to Derpy. "Iron Will didn't save Fluttershy from nothin'. She was the one actually helpin' others, and she was the one who helped me—helped me to see what I really wanted, who I really am. It just so happened that right then n' there, she needed me too."

Iron Will tensed up as the shadows beyond the curtain of water grew fewer in number. "Point is, Iron Will knows what its like to feel hopeless, to feel like everythin' you've done is a waste. It was Flutterhoney who showed me that what you've done before—the person you've been—isn't half as important as who you want to be tomorrow, and what you're gonna do about it right now."

Derpy stared back at him in open-mouthed awe. The reasoning seemed simple to her now, but she'd never thought of it that way before. "I . . . I don't know what to say."

Iron Will rose to his hooves and scanned for remaining shadows. "There's nothin' wrong with not havin' the words—just make sure you do what you think is right. One way or another, that's how you find the real you." He smiled. "And Iron Will can't wait to meet her."

Derpy stood as well. The minotaur's words had broken through her stupor. Right now, she wanted very much to live through this ordeal—for all of them to live through it.

"Ready to move?" asked Iron Will.

Derpy nodded.

Iron Will had never looked more resolute. "Okay, on three . . ."

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [8/9]

View Online

By the time that Derpy Hooves and Iron Will reached the place where Fluttershy had last been seen, a massive clearing was all that remained. Felled trees rested on a carpet of leaves. The dense fog had turned pale orange in the light of sunset. Silence hung on the air.

Iron Will cupped both hands to his muzzle. "Fluttershy! You out here, honeybunch?!"

Derpy piped up as well. "Fluttershy! Are you okay?!" She heard nothing in response, but Iron's ears pricked up.

"Fluttershy?" he whispered before dashing off into the clearing.

Derpy followed after as best she could, her every motion hindered by the knee-high carpet of leaves and branches. When she caught up with Iron Will, who now stood stock still in shock, a fearful sight lay before them. Fluttershy hung from a still-standing tree near the edge of the battleground, lashed to its trunk by a glob of black sludge that covered her midsection. Derpy could see that she was still breathing, but Fluttershy's head hung low, unresponsive to Iron's voice.

Iron Will stepped forward regardless. "Here, honeybun. Lemme get this thing off of you." He reached out with both hands.

"Don't!" Fluttershy barked, causing Iron Will to freeze in place. She raised her head and gazed upon them, pain writ large on her fragile features. Her irises had turned stark violet.

Derpy recoiled. "What the . . ."

"It wants you too," Fluttershy whispered, struggling with every word. "Both of you, everything alive. It—" She winced. "It keeps talking to me—talking without words. I'm trying not to listen but . . . but . . ."

Iron Will advanced slowly, still convinced that his was the correct course of action.

"It'll take you if you touch me!" Fluttershy sobbed. Her eyes watered in frustration. "Just run."

Iron Will's eyes moistened as well. "Honeybunch?"

Fluttershy strained against the sludge. "Go, before it's too late!" she shouted, then her form went slack. It began to giggle. "But it's already too late." said a different voice from Fluttershy's mouth.

Derpy drew in a sharp breath. "Screw Loose?"

A flurry of black tendrils whipped through the trees all around Fluttershy. Iron Will reacted fast, sweeping up Derpy in a headlong dive back to the clearing. He deposited her neatly on all four hooves and reared up into a perfect fighting stance. They both watched as the creature called Phage Amalgam slid out from between the trees. It grew more substantial as it entered the clearing and again assumed the approximate form of an ursa minor. It bristled with blades of bone. Its mouths snapped hungrily at the air.

Fluttershy's body laughed wickedly and smiled at the sight. A face formed in the sludge surrounding her abdomen, the face of a familiar earth pony. "You two have no idea what you're missing," both Fluttershy and the face said in Screw Loose's voice. "Come on in! The water's fine!"

"That's why they're here," Derpy whispered. "It's her fault—it's gotta be!"

"Fluttershy!" Iron Will bellowed. "Where's Kindness?!"

Fluttershy's face smirked. "You want a hug? Why didn't you say so?"

The Amalgam charged forward, scattering debris into the air. Iron Will jumped out of the way and called out once more as the creature rushed past. "Flutterhoney!"

Fluttershy's body laughed with the voice of Screw Loose, but the laugh soon turned to choking. The face in the sludge gained greater definition while Fluttershy's eyes returned to their normal shade of cyan. "That thing covering Brutus has it!" she croaked, this time in her own voice.

Both Derpy and Iron Will saw it as the Amalgam rose from its charge, a glint of pink morganite high atop its right shoulder.

Derpy balked. "How are you gonna get that?" she exclaimed, but Iron Will was already on the move.

"HEY!" the minotaur bellowed with tremendous volume. He clapped his hands over his head and let out a high-pitched whistle. "Get over here so Iron Will can show you who's boss!"

The Amalgam roared and shambled forward.

"Oh, come on!" jeered Iron Will. He poked at his own head. "You can do better than that, sludge-for-brains! Pick up the speed or get ready to bleed!"

The Amalgam obliged, charging toward the minotaur once more in a torrent of leaves and bits of goo. Derpy looked on in wonder as Iron Will taunted the creature and backed away. He clearly had something in mind, but what?

The sludge with Screw Loose's face cackled. "The bullfighting bull thinks he's got this in the bag!" She sneered. "I wonder about that . . ."

Both Iron Will and his towering opponent neared the edge of the clearing. Suddenly, Iron broke off his verbal assault and ran straight at a nearby tree trunk. With a leap and a bound, Iron Will ascended the branches, rising to the Amalgam's head level in a flash. Before the creature could possibly turn his way, Iron jumped clear from the treetop, hand outstretched to grab hold of the captive Element.

"Gotcha~" said Screw Loose in a singsong voice.

One of the Amalgam's bone-bladed arms whipped around its back and rocketed upward. Miraculously, Iron Will grabbed one of the oncoming blades and ascended with rather than on the weaponized appendage. Even so, a quick splash of red in the air made it clear that damage had been done. Iron Will dropped to the ground and rolled away as the Amalgam lashed about in all directions with feral screams.

"Aw darn," moaned the sludge that was Screw Loose. "Thought I had him that time."

Fluttershy's lips formed a torturous grin. "You can't beat my Willykins. Why don't you just give up?"

Screw Loose tightened around her prey, causing Fluttershy to cry out in pain. "Why don't you give up, honeybunch?"

Derpy couldn't stand to see these events transpire, but neither could she think of anything to do. She simply stood there with gritted teeth and shaking limbs as her caretaker's words coursed through her brain. Who do you want to be tomorrow? What are you going to do about it right now?

"Derpy, look out!" Iron Will shouted above the fray.

The distracted pegasus mare turned to see spikes of bone launch from the Amalgam's back—they were headed right for her! There was no time to react, nothing to do but watch in horror as the projectiles loomed ever larger.

CRACK!

Derpy's mouth fell open as she witnessed a blur of motion. Spike the dragon had rushed to her aid, deflecting both on-target bone spikes with his sword. The others stuck in the ground all around them like a morbid version of Triangle Peg.

"Spike!" Derpy exclaimed in utter relief. "Wait, why are you here?"

Spike kept his sword up and grimaced. "Those things doubled back. Look."

Derpy turned her eyes to the Phage Amalgam and took in a gruesome spectacle. The remaining individual Phage that Spike had tried to lead away now slid toward their conjoined brethren with alarming speed. As the piles of sludge unified, the Amalgam grew ever larger, rising above the treetops and putting the Element far out of reach.

Iron Will used the distraction to duck and dodge his way to his allies' position. He arrived at Derpy's side, bleeding a good bit from a cut across his chest. "Derpy," he gasped. "It's time to go."

Riotous laughter issued forth from Screw Loose as the Amalgam neared completion. The creature itself let out a deafening squeal and plunged its arms into the ground. It's oily skin shook and pulsated, giving off the appearance that it was pumping something into the soil.

Iron Will's instruction caught Derpy unawares. "What?" she gasped.

Bone spikes exploded from the ground in showers of leaves and dirt. They shot up from the underbrush one after another in rapid succession, forming a perfect and insurmountable circle within a few short seconds. The tendrils on the Amalgam's back grew larger and longer—its mouths licked greedily at the air in horrid anticipation.

Iron Will gripped Derpy's shoulder. "You promised, Derpy! I can't protect you anymore!"

Spike smiled back at her. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine."

"Get out of here!" Fluttershy shouted from across the clearing. "You can't stop it now!"

Derpy shuddered in place. She knew what she'd promised Iron Will—she knew that she had to flee. Her body wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment, but her mind was on the warpath. Which me is the real me? Who did Iron Will want to meet? As the shouts, screams, and roars echoed in her ears, her eyes once again spotted the morganite gem on the Amalgam's shoulder. She looked at Iron Will and Spike, hearing her own voice in place of their words.

Who are you?

Are you the pony who hides in her room and yells at Fluttershy?

Or are you the pony who risked her life to save Apple Bloom?

Derpy saw the gem glint in the sun's red light and ruffled her wings. She knew that it was possible—that she could fly up and retrieve the means to win this battle. Despite this, she froze once more. I could die, she thought. Screw Loose could really kill me this time. The icy terror of that thought gripped every inch of her body and rooted her to the spot. Frustration, shame, and abject fear engulfed her mind and paralyzed her to the core.

The Amalgam readied its blades and tendrils, coming about to face the trio. Both Iron Will and Spike stood ready to defend Derpy, no matter how futile the gesture against a threat of this magnitude.

"Fly, Derpy!" shouted Iron Will.

"Get out of here!" yelled Spike. His smile wavered. "If something happens to you . . . I . . ." He gritted his teeth.

"Run!" Fluttershy cried. "All of you, just run!"

The Amalgam bent low for one final charge. Over a hundred mouths opened wide for the feast.

Why can't I do this?! Derpy screamed inwardly. I want to save them! I know what to do! What's wrong with me?!

"Derpy!"

"Derpy, run!"

Derpy clutched at her head as a searing pain entered her mind. Another vision of the past blossomed in her thoughts. This time, it was her own.

[???]
Derpy pushed hard against the gargantuan doors of the White Spire, digging her back hooves into the soft grass and crying tears of frustration as she did. "You said I could go there too, Big Sister!" she wailed. "You said the Spire leads to the Land Past the Sky!"
Derpy had been throwing herself against the massive ivory doors for some time now, but they wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she tried to open them. When at last the futility of her actions became utterly clear, she slumped down against the doors and wept. "I lied," she sobbed. "I said I'd be brave, but . . . I'm so afraid. The voices are scary, and they won't stop. Being by myself is even worse!" She tried to cradle herself with her own forelegs, only to find them inadequate. "I wish you were here. I wish you'd tell me it's gonna be okay."
One of Derpy's eyes looked up from the grass and spotted a dark silhouette against the rainbow-colored sky. She yelped in surprise and pressed her back to the door. Against the brightness of swirling constellations, the figure had no definition. All it seemed to be was an ominous black shadow, growing larger as it advanced upon her.
Derpy closed her eyes and cowered on the spot. "No!" she whimpered, her body quaking with fear. "Get away from me! I've got nothing to do with you!"
The shadow now stood directly in front of her. "You have nothing to fear, little one," it said in a masculine voice. "For if you are here, you've nothing left to lose."
Derpy opened her eyes. What had been an indiscernible shadow at a distance was now clearly a stallion, clad from head to hoof in black cloak and cowl. She could not see his face, but the stallion reached out with a gray-furred foreleg and pressed on the door behind her. It slid open just a crack, revealing a sliver of brilliant light from within.
Derpy's mouth fell open, and she forgot her trepidation. "How did you do that?"
The stallion chuckled and placed his hoof on her shoulder. "Doors remain shut as long as you fear what's behind them." The shifting lights in the sky revealed his crimson eyes. "Courage is the key to victory, little one. You must believe . . ."

Derpy's eyes refocused, and her consciousness cleared of all things but the last few words of the stallion's wisdom. "Believe in victory," she whispered. In her mind's eye, the Element of Kindness high atop the Amalgam's shoulder became the shape of a pegasus slaver in flight. Her body remembered what to do. With one powerful flap of her wings, Derpy sailed into the air, right over the heads of Iron Will and Spike. Both of them watched open-mouthed as she rocketed upward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

The Element of Kindness surfaced from the undulating sludge of the Phage Amalgam. Just as Silver Cross had once pulled his sword from the slaver, Derpy opened her jaws and snatched the golden necklace from the ooze, sailing right over the creature's "head" in the process. The Amalgam roared and lunged after her. To make matters worse, the gnarled branch of a nearby tree blocked Derpy's descent. She nearly collided with it, but flapped her wings just in the nick of time, kicking out reflexively to clear the object from her path. The powerful kick sent the branch plunging into the Amalgam and, stupendously, the abomination snagged on the offending tree limb.

As the ground drew near, Derpy imagined herself making a perfect landing. However, her mind drew a blank, and she hit the ground in a tumbling heap.

"Derpy?!" Iron Will shouted from across the clearing.

Derpy Hooves popped up from the loam in a shower of leaves. She looked back at the struggling Amalgam, felt the cold metal of the Element in her grip, and was overcome with elation. "I got it!" she exclaimed. "I got the Element!" What was I supposed to do with it again? she thought. Oh, right. Derpy spun around and flung the necklace through the air, shouting "Catch, Iron!" as she did.

The toss was right on target. Iron Will reached up and caught the spinning necklace with a knowing smile. "Nice to meet you, Derpy Hooves."

"What good is that gonna do?" jeered Screw Loose as the Amalgam wrenched free from its entanglement. "I've got your precious Fluttershy all to myself!"

"Um, I don't want to be a bother," squeaked Fluttershy with a tiny smile, "but I think you just lost."

Iron Will donned a mask of grim determination. "KINDNESS!"

The Element's gem flashed and spoke at the same time. "SECOND ASPECT CONFIRMED. HARMONIZING." The golden crest surrounding the core gem shifted and expanded, turning itself from a necklace into a shining metal belt before their very eyes. "COMPLETE."

Derpy face-faulted. "Huh?"

Iron Will grabbed the belt with both hands and latched it around his waist. "Didn't you know?" His mouth turned up at the corner. "We're a two-for-one special."

"READY."

Iron Will pumped his right fist in the air at a straight diagonal across his chest and let out a low growl as he brought the extended arm around to the opposite side. With a parallel punch from his left and another from his right, gave a mighty roar. "Crest Open!"

The butterfly gem flashed in response. "OPEN UP."

The cyclone of pink light burst forth once more and swirled about. Two golden plates jumped off the belt and latched onto Iron Will's wrists, forming a pair of metallic wristbands. Both his nose ring and horns took on the same golden hue. With finishing touches in place, the cyclone dissipated to reveal a combat-ready Iron Will--arms up and eyes aglow.

Iron Will threw a pair of practice jabs and flexed his prodigious muscles. "Feast your eyes on the powers of yore!" He kissed a curled bicep. "Iron Will takes the floor."

Even the Amalgam recoiled from the ostentatious display.

"Ooh, shiny," mocked Screw Loose. "You gonna summon some more critters for me to absorb?"

Iron Will ignored her and brought the two wristbands close to his face, whispering to them in a low voice. "Give unto me the likeness of love's form, to strike away evil from hearts deformed." He looked up from his prayer and shouted, "Derpy! Spike! Get ready!"

Derpy cocked her head to the side. "Ready for what?"

Pink fire erupted from the wristbands and wreathed about Iron's fists. "For this!" he bellowed. Iron Will threw a left straight in Fluttershy's direction. A brilliant pink fireball exploded from his fist and shot across the clearing.

Derpy saw Spike dash for their imprisoned friend out of the corner of her eye and chose to do the same. The ball of rose-colored flame hit the corrupted Screw Loose dead in the face and exploded all over the tree trunk. Miraculously, the yellow pegasus fell out of the blaze without a single charred feather. Spike made it just in time, catching Fluttershy in a diving save. At the same instant, a glob of black sludge hit the ground near Derpy, Screw Loose's pained expression still emblazoned on its oily surface.

Screw Loose seemed disappointed, more than anything, as pink flame burned her away into nothingness. "That sucks," she gasped. "I just wanted to have fun." Strangely enough, her last expression before she disappeared entirely was a smile. "Oh well, at least I have some company . . ."

The sight of her enemy's demise brought Derpy a slew of mixed feelings, but the Amalgam's vengeful roar snapped her out of the resulting daze. She rushed to her friends' side as Iron Will drew the attention of their remaining foe. "Fluttershy!" she gasped. "Are you okay?"

Despite her ordeal, Fluttershy looked to be completely unscathed. "Oh, I feel a little dizzy," she said as Spike lowered her onto her hooves. A sweet smile blossomed on her face all the same. "But I think I'll be just fine. Thank you, both of you." With that, she looked toward the combatants. "Now, if we can just save poor little Brutus too."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Little?"

The battle was underway between the minotaur and the Phage Amalgam, but already it looked to be completely one-sided. Without the benefit of Screw Loose's guidance, the Amalgam lashed about with every blade and tendril at its disposal, seeking to overwhelm its smaller opponent. Iron Will, however, neither touched the beast nor let it touch him. Punch after punch thrown at thin air shot a cascade of pink fireballs at the Amalgam, repelling its every attack and, eventually, sending it reeling. The rose-colored flame dissolved black sludge wherever it made contact. Only a matter of seconds passed before the starry coat of an ursa minor began to shine through holes in the ooze.

Derpy shook her head and looked on with wide eyes. "What is he doing? How is he doing it?"

Fluttershy tapped the tiny bell on her ear. "It's a bit embarrassing, but . . ." She blushed. "The bond of marriage is very powerful. Two bodies become one—two souls become one. Iron Will is my other half, the other Element of Kindness." She smiled wistfully as her husband battled on. "The Element's shape and powers depend on the one who wears it. Mine draws on the ways I've been kind to others and asks them very nicely to help me when I'm in need."

"Compels them to, actually," Spike corrected.

"Iron Will's is different," continued Fluttershy. "He's very assertive, even mean sometimes, but that's how he gets through to others—to what's really bothering them. That's why his Element can burn away bad feelings." Her smile grew wider. "That's how my Willykins wins his battles—he attacks the will to hurt others."

By this time, there was little left of the Phage Amalgam. Dented plates of armor and burning piles of sludge littered the forest floor. The creature Iron Will fought bore the form of an ursa minor once more, save for a single undulating Phage that enveloped its head.

Iron Will drew back his rear hand and focused his power for the final attack. "Hey, Phage!" he barked. "Or whatever you call yourself, listen up!"

The creature he addressed actually lurched back at his words.

Iron Will smirked. "Looks like you're missin' the point of this little bout, so Iron Will's gonna spell it out!" The flame of his lead hand receded, causing the one on his rear hand to flare brilliantly. "Next time you feel like bargin' into my kitchen, make sure you can take the HEAT!"

On the last word he threw a powerful straight punch, propelling a massive ball of pink fire into the air. The Amalgam only had time for one last screech before the flame vaporized it on contact, leaving only the unmarked, glittering form of an ursa minor in its wake.

"Brutus!" Fluttershy exclaimed.

Free from his captors, the ursa minor let out a massive groan and toppled forward, hitting the underbrush with a gut-churning thud. Fluttershy was at the giant bear's side in an instant, though Derpy and Spike hung back for a moment to check that their teeth hadn't come loose. All around them, the circle of bone spikes crumbled to dust.

Iron Will, his mission accomplished, let out a slow exhale and brought his arms to rest. "Kindness?"

The morganite gem on his belt flashed once and rung out a neutral tone of acknowledgement.

"Good job. Close Crest."

"STAND DOWN." With that, the core gem locked back into its starting position. The belt and wristbands unlatched of their own accord, merged back into a single golden object, and rocketed off into the sky on its way back to the library.

The golden hue and magic light faded from Iron Will's features, replaced by a smile of great relief.

Derpy Hooves trotted over to Fluttershy as the caretaker examined her charge. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Fluttershy pulled her ear away from the ursa minor's flaring nostrils and nodded cheerfully. "I think so! I checked all over, and he's in such good shape that he might as well have been taking a nap this whole time!" She spread her wings out parallel to the ground and knelt down on one knee, giving the traditional curtsy of a pegasus mare. "Thank you so much, all of you. You were all so very brave."

"That they were," said Iron Will. Despite his words, he approached the group with the body language of a disapproving father—hands folded behind his back and a stolid grimace on his face. He fixed an angry glare on Derpy Hooves. "But somepony broke her promise to make it happen, and by Celestia she's gonna get what's coming to her."

"Wait, Iron!" said Spike. "If Derpy hadn't done that, we'd all be—"

Iron Will interrupted Spike by kneeling down and offering an open hand. "Thank you, Derpy," he said with a gentle smile. "Thank you for giving me the power to save my honeybunch." As Derpy extended a cautious hoof, Iron Will took it in his hand and shook firmly. "No matter where life takes you, you will always be welcome in our home."

Derpy's bottom lip quivered. Happy tears formed in her eyes. "I don't know what to say." She was happy, genuinely happy from the bottom of her heart for what seemed like the very first time. Even so, a shadow tugged at the edge of her thoughts. "But I . . ." Her expression became uncertain. "Did we really just get rid of Screw Loose?"

All of them looked out across the clearing in the fading light, a sight that spoke clearly of damage wrought, but said nothing of the cause behind it.

Spike grimaced. "What do you think she meant when she said she had 'company?'"

Derpy looked upon a dented piece of golden armor and realized that for all she'd gained from this battle, for all those she'd saved, something else—perhaps equally precious—had just been lost.

Lost Legacies

by AkibaWhite

E01: Help Wanted [Ø]

A1A: Night Raid [Ø]

E02: Tough Crowd [Ø]

A1B: Locked Room [Ø]

E03: Cleaning House [/]

Amethyst 2A: The Ward

Episode 04: What You Wish For

Amethyst 2B: Room 401

Episode 05: The Buck Stops Here

Amethyst 3A: Down Under

Episode 06: Imaginary Place

Amethyst 3B: Blood Song

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [1/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [2/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [3/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [4/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [5/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [6/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [7/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [8/9]

Episode 07: The Kindness of Others [9/9]

Amethyst 4A: Invitation