Sprockets in the North

by Lab

First published 15th of May, 2014

Icy spires and sheer cold have barred entry to the Frozen North, the land ponies emigrated from, for as long as any can remember. However, the princesses believe Sterling Gears might be able to find a solution. Part 2 of The Tinker's Journey.

Beyond the Crystal Mountains lies the Frozen North, its original name long forgotten behind a barrier of icy spires and temperatures low enough to flash freeze a pegasus. The last attempt to revisit the birthplace of ponies failed decades ago, and the princesses believe it is time for another attempt.

Two weeks after the events of Gears in the Void, Sterling Gears is still adjusting to what she has lost, but when a hero and the princesses ask her to do what she does best, how can she refuse?

The North awaits. She just has to answer the call.

Part 2 of The Tinker's Journey.

Sparkle Awakens

Being mindful of my balance was one of the more frustrating things about losing a leg, and for the third time that day, I toppled to the side after reaching for something with my left foreleg. I could support myself on two legs, but only if they weren’t on the same side.

Two weeks hadn’t been enough time to fully adapt to the missing hind leg. Even if I’d gone to physical therapy instead of “checking out” out the next morning, my days would have still been full of aches, pitying looks from others, and balance worse than a drunk on a tightrope.

It had been the second time I’d needed to relearn how to walk, and it took practicing nearly every waking moment of the first couple days just to get to the point where I could walk across the room without falling. Even then, Dash’s pet tortoise, Tank, outpaced my awkward shuffle-hop.

With a sigh, I stood and grabbed the aluminium in my teeth, wincing at the metallic tang. I’d been great at remembering I had clubs instead of hands, but lately, I was accidentally punching all sorts of things. Scratching an itch got rid of it, but often left a bruise first.

Equestria had to have received its prosthetic supply from a pirate surplus store. The length of wood was an ugly thing that chafed like steel-wool underpants, and fastening the damn thing’s straps without magic or extra help was as difficult as eating just one chip. It had taken less than an hour before the pegleg was hurled out the window. Oddly enough, none of the diamond dogs had brought it back and asked me to throw it again.

My ear flicked as I resumed work on the artificial leg, checking back and forth between the borrowed anatomy textbook—the most understandable of four—and the pile of metal and plastic.

I laid my head on the worktable and groaned—learning pony anatomy was more difficult than blindfolded dentistry. There were so many muscle groups to take into account, and it was no picnic to learn how all the parts interacted with each other. It had taken ages to stop giggling about the things I could do with the artificial version of a leg’s cannon.

My ear flicked again.

“Gears!” The voice was barely audible over a slowly increasing whistle that would have sent me running for shelter if I didn’t know the culprit. Hopefully, the door was still unlocked, since deadbolts were somewhat expensive.

Even turning to face the entrance felt weird, but there wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on it before the door burst open and a blue bolt careened through the living room and into the large cushion propped against the opposite wall. It was a testament to diamond dog architecture the wall didn’t shudder from the impact.

Crashing into someone’s home was an odd way of showing friendly affection, but then again, so was calling Twilight an egghead. “Morning, Dash.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head and jumped back into the air, hovering towards me. “Yeah, good morning to you too, but get your leg and let’s go!”

“It’s not finished.”

“What do you mean ‘not finished’?” Dash was zooming in circles around my ceiling, coming dangerously close to the mostly barren shelves. I had to wonder what had her so riled up, since she usually took another ten minutes to get to that point. “Didn’t they give you one before you got out of the hospital?”

“Wearing nothing at all is better than that stick. I’m building my own.”

She landed beside me and raised a brow as I gestured at the project. With a shrug, she said, “If anypony can make one, it’s you. But, that doesn’t matter. I need to get back to the hospital. Get there as fast as you can.”

She barely made it off the ground before I shouted, “Wait!” Dash glared at me like I was keeping her awake after a double shift and caffeine crash. “The hospital? Did somebody get hurt?”

“Hurt? No. Twilight woke up!” She did a double-take as I rushed past her. “Why’d they even give you a leg in the first place?”

My jump strength wasn’t what it used to be, and instead of leaping into the cart parked outside, I crashed headfirst into the tailgate. Even with blurred vision and ringing ears, I could see and hear Dash busting a gut. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” After a while, you start to get used to head injuries, but the first couple minutes were always a bitch.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live.” I was on my way to the hospital anyway.

“Good, now I don’t feel bad about laughing. See you when you get there.” And just like that, she was gone.

There was something strange about following a rainbow to a hospital instead of a pot of gold.

Ponyville General Hospital was on the other side of town, but the lack of ponies on the outer roads meant I didn’t have to slow down. I probably still should have, but eh.

The corners of my mouth instantly tugged down as I looked at the building before me—a glance at the hospital was all it took for the phantom pain to start up again. It didn’t look any busier than normal, so they must have been trying to keep Twilight’s status quiet. Even though she really didn’t do anything as a princess, there would have been a crowd of reporters to fight through if they’d caught a whiff of her waking up. If my luck held out, Redheart wouldn’t be working.

“Morning, Nurse Tenderheart.” So far so good, except for the few ponies in the lobby who thought their staring was subtle.

“Good morning, Sterling. Go on ahead, I’ll sign you in.” They’d only let me sign in once before offering to do it themselves. It hurt my pride a little to know a doctor’s writing was more legible.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite nurse.”

“I bet. Try not to jump out the window this time.” Even with the pencil in her mouth, she came through loud and clear.

“Don’t put an orderly outside the room then.”

Tenderheart called after me as I started down the hall, asking why my prosthetic was missing. After I’d explained, I hurried down the familiar route to Twilight’s room, the ache growing worse the further I went.

The ever-present smell of antiseptic was making me nauseous, and I couldn’t help but be wary of any patient that passed by. I was starting to doubt hospitals would ever feel safe. A moan from one of the rooms startled me, but it was nothing more than somepony whining about being sick.

One of the two guards outside Twilight’s room looked my way, and his expression turned pitiful, something I’d seen too much during the previous weeks. It was a small comfort they remembered who I was and didn’t bar my way. Most of the ponies inside the room weren’t any better, and only Dash and Pinkie still saw me like they used to, instead of as an invalid.

The assortment of “Get Well Soon!” cards and flowers was different every time I visited, and I suspected Pinkie was responsible. The hospital room was a little crowded with Twilight, her parents, Spike, and the rest of the Mane Six. Fortunately, I took up less room than the average pony.

Twilight Velvet, Sparkle’s mother, stumbled over her words when she saw me, but at least she didn’t go silent that time. When I’d first woken up, Sparklebutt’s parents were already in the hospital, and they’d been talkative when they were thanking me for saving their daughter.

“Oh, Sterling… I’m so sorry.” Twilight Sparkle’s voice quavered as tears dripped onto her food tray.

“It’s fine, Twilight. I have spares.” I sat next to Pinkie, who giggled at the joke as she scooted over to make room.

“How can you joke about a life-altering injury?”

“Because it’s mine and I’m not going to let it win. We can talk about this more later, but I’m not the one who slept in for a couple weeks.” It was hard enough tolerating the pain without her reminding me.

Pinkie poked her head between us and goofily grinned. “Even Dashie couldn’t sleep for that long.”

“Hey!” Dash glared at Pinkie, but failed to suppress a smirk as everybody—couldn’t rightfully say “everypony” with Spike in the room—chuckled.

Twilight polished off the rest of her food over the first few minutes of conversation. She didn’t bring up the leg again, but she was still on the verge of tears every time she looked at me. It hurt to know I might have another pony looking at me with little more than pity.

The conversation made it easy to mostly forget where I was, and even the phantom pain subsided after a while. Granted, it was impossible to know if it’d be back in five minutes or five days, but I took what I could get.

Night Light and Velvet were the first to leave, insisting they had some errands to run before catching the last train back to Canterlot. Then Spike left, and one by one, the others excused themselves until I was the only one left with Twilight.

“That’s not suspicious at all…”

“I figured it wouldn’t get past you.” Twilight shrugged and nommed the nearest flower arrangement, startling me before I remembered it doubled as a gift basket if you were a pony.

“You aren’t very subtle either. So, what did you want to talk about? Or did I draw the short straw and have to give you a belly rub?”

“Wait, what?”

A familiar presence entered the room, sounding mildly amused as she spoke. “Sterling Gears, please leave Princess Twilight Sparkle be while she is recovering.”

“Hey there, Celestia. Guess this explains why you weren’t here when I showed up.” Even though she hated the title herself, not saying “Princess” made Twilight’s eye twitch.

“That is correct. I regret not being able to take the time to speak with you sooner, but there were pressing matters to attend to.” The door glowed gold and closed with a click. “What we must discuss is not meant for the ears of others.”

“I think I know what this is about, but didn’t you get the report I sent through Spike?”

“So that’s what that was,” Celestia muttered, then cleared her throat and said, “I am sorry, Sterling, but your message was unclear. My sister and I decided the best option would be to speak with the two of you simultaneously, but first, Twilight, how are you feeling?”

“As exhausted as if I’d read every book in the library in one sitting. I still have an awful headache, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. It was much worse when I woke up, but it subsided after a few minutes.” Twilight paused to catch her breath, then looked in my direction. “I’m still upset about what happened to Sterling.”

“I see. And what about you, Sterling? Luna has mentioned speaking with you a few times, but there were problems with the stability of your dreams.” Celestia sat down near the head of Twilight’s bed. “She said there is a fair chance you wouldn’t remember the conversations at all.”

“I don’t, sorry. I can’t even remember dreaming at all over the past couple weeks. Other than that, I lost my best friend as well as my leg, but avenged the crap out of a lot of universes, so I guess it kind of evens out.” They always go on about being wary of revenge, but if the world is saved at the same time, you’re just one of the good guys.

“How many is ‘a lot’?”

“That thing went on and on about eternity and an infinite number of infinities, so ‘a lot’ is about as accurate as I can get.”

“I can vouch for her, Prin—Celestia.” Twilight winced and rubbed the base of her horn. “I’ve—I’ve seen them.”

Celestia raised her brow as she looked to me, but I could only shrug. “Perhaps both of you should start from the beginning.”

There was no conflict between Twilight’s story and mine, but Celestia shared my unease when Twilight didn’t bat an eye when recounting how Grue had mangled my leg like an eager corgi with a piece of rawhide. The doctors said I was probably in so much pain because of how it felt before the amputation.

“... and then I fell on my face. Then I woke up in the hospital, and you know the rest.” Rubbing my leg helped abate some of the pain that had cropped up towards the end of the story.

Twilight, who had nothing to say after describing how painful it was to absorb what was left of Grue after the explosion, still looked like she blamed herself for what happened, but much less than before. “I had no idea you actually needed to drag me out of there with how injured you were, not to mention lift me through the rift.”

Twilight stumbled as she stepped off the bed, but Celestia steadied her with a wing.

“Thank you so much, Sterling.” Twilight wrapped her forelegs around me and buried her face in my mane, making me regret not bathing before I’d headed to the hospital. “Without you, I’d be… I wouldn’t be here.”

“You make it sound like I could have left you there.” I chuckled and eased her off. “I’m surprised this is the first you heard of it. Now get back in bed.”

“If you insist.” Her hoof caught the edge of the mattress, and she stumbled again. “I’m okay. Sterling, there’s no way I could have already known. The others had an idea of what might have happened, but said you haven’t talked about this with anypony, even Pinkie, and wanted to leave the details to you.”

“I thought I talked with her about everything.” Pinkie had lost Dave as well, and even though she wasn’t as close to him as I was, she had to be hurting as well. I’d been a terrible friend.

“She said you’ve rarely left your home since leaving the hospital—you really should stop breaking out every time you’re a patient, by the way.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned to Celestia. “You’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

She didn’t even look at me. “Sterling, your heroic actions guaranteed Twilight’s safety at the cost of your own.”

“Just don’t forget Dave if this gets in the history books.”

“I would not dream of it.” Celestia sighed and frowned as she turned back to Twilight. “There is yet one thing to be addressed. Twilight, you said that you’ve seen the other universes that fell victim to the darkness. Is there more to the tale after you fell unconscious?”

Twilight smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Celestia. Could you repeat that? My thoughts got away from me.” She must not have heard any of it, because when the question was repeated, her ears flipped back at mach three and she whimpered. “I-I really don’t want to think about it again.”

“Please, Twilight. Confide in us, or we cannot help. Just start at the beginning and work from there,” Celestia said, giving her disarming smile number seven, the genuine one.

“It all happened so fast at first. One moment, I’m going to check how badly Sterling was injured by the explosion, and the next, my head is screaming in agony while I’m lost in a storm of anguish and half-broken images. I suspect when that thing was destroyed, it released all the magic it still contained, and I was easily the most magically absorbent… anything in that entire pseudo-plane.” Words were flying out of her mouth fast enough to almost give Pinkie a run for her bits.

Twilight started shaking as she continued, “For a brief moment, I saw everything that monster had consumed in its hunger. Then it was memories. Too few were of Equestria, and I spent what felt like months being forced to watch the fall of Sterling’s world alone.”

An uneasy feeling rose in my gut. There was a reason I was hesitant to talk about some things. “How can you be sure it’s mine?”

“I saw you in a few memories. I don’t know how, but I instantly knew it was you, even though you weren’t a pony. It wasn’t lying when it said you had been marked for a long time.

“I felt every bite, every rotten hand clamping onto live flesh. Yours wasn’t the only world destroyed with zombies, but it was the most vivid. There were so many other worlds, but each one was more faded and hole-ridden than the last, until all that remained was the pain. I couldn’t hide—closing my eyes did nothing. To know what could have happened to this world if we hadn’t succeeded… I’m not going to sleep anytime soon.”

“I am truly sorry both of you had to go through such an ordeal. What it took from both of you is a price higher than any should have to pay.” Hairline fissures snaked through Celestia’s composure during the story, and the strain on her face was almost heartbreaking.

“I’ll admit it’s a larger battle scar than I prefer, but we still won. Hopefully I can finish the prosthetic before the next crisis pops up, because chances are I’ll end up sucked into that too.”

“The hospital should have supplied you with one.” Celestia frowned as she looked toward the door.

“It was a stick.” How many times was I going to have to repeat it? “I’m just going to mash thaumite together until I get something that works rig—”

Apparently, Twilight had regained enough coordination to tackle me, her fresh tears dampening my fur. “Never change, Sterling.”

Her fetlock—all that time spent muzzle-deep in an anatomy textbook was starting to pay off—was digging into my throat and made it difficult to speak. “Um, okay? I’m glad to see you’re feeling well enough to put other ponies in a chokehold.”

Stepping back, she laughed nervously and apologized. “It’s just refreshing to see you handle this like it’s any other problem.”

Part of me wanted to point out she was being really huggy, but one look at her face and I changed my answer to a shrug. “Glad I could help, I guess.” I glanced to Celestia with my best this-is-getting-awkward-so-would-you-say-something-already face.

“Twilight Sparkle, do not hesitate to contact me if you ever need to further discuss what you have witnessed.” She didn’t signal me in any fashion, but I knew what she wanted me to say—not that I wouldn’t have said it if Celestia hadn’t been around.

“It’s not like I’m very hard to find either. I’m not exactly very mobile right now.” Once again, I was the only one who chuckled.

Twilight frowned as she glanced between me and Celestia. “I couldn’t possibly push this off onto anypony else.”

“Don’t give me that crap or I’ll head to Canterlot, find your friendship reports, and beat you with them until you talk.” Something in Celestia’s bemused expression told me she’d probably be waiting at the train station with a crate carrying every scroll Twilight had ever dracogrammed. On second thought, she’d probably need two crates and a satchel. “I’m not saying to write a weekly newsletter. I can’t know exactly what you went through, but I’ve survived a lot of the stuff you saw. Hearing about it won’t do much to me.”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Not good enough. You’re thinking about it now and probably leaning towards ‘I’m going to keep putting it off and hope you forget’.” There was a loud clop as somepony stomped their hoof. It took a bit to realize it was me.

“Have faith in your friends, Twilight.” Celestia should have been a bit more firm, but she was either worried that her student would think differently of her or that I was supposed to be doing all the convincing for some pointlessly cryptic reason.

“I do! It’s just that some of the things I saw… I don’t want it to haunt them too.”

“Don’t be a martyr. Your friends are tougher than you think, and no matter what you’ve seen, it’ll hurt less if you… share it…” I frowned, realizing I’d just learned a lesson on friendship. “You’re already in the room, Celestia. I’m not sending a letter on what I learned.”

She blinked in confusion. “Very well.”

I wasn’t about to trade horror stories with Twilight, but opening up would help me as well. Besides, my options were a little limited, because some of my issues were probably also state secrets. “I don’t care if you’re knocking on my door saying ‘Sterling, I’m sorry it’s two in the morning, but I need somepony to talk to.’ If you need to, do it.”

Instead of tackling me in another hug—which was a shame, since I was going to duck under it to mess with her—Twilight sank into her bed and sighed. “Alright, but only if you do the same.”

“Pinkie Promise?”

Twilight nodded without hesitation, and we carried out the sacred ritual while Celestia tried to hide her smirk. Sunbutt could laugh it up all she wanted. I knew where she slept. Well, the general area, but Luna would help me narrow it down for a good prank.

“I am very proud of both of you.” I couldn’t see myself going out of the way to earn Celestia’s approval, but hearing her say that made me feel like a foal whose crayon art had just been displayed on the most prestigious of venues, the fridge. “The support you offer one another will be vital to your recovery.” Twilight’s grin wavered, and she rubbed her head. “And speaking of recovery, it is about time to adjourn our little meeting.”

A flash of light blinded me, and Celestia’s usual aura vanished. A white pegasus with a pink mane stood nearby, gesturing for me to follow. “Come, Sterling, let us leave Twilight to her rest.”

When I did little more than fidget, Twilight chuckled and playfully shooed me away. “I’ll be fine. I’m feeling like I need a nap anyway.”

“It’s not that. My leg fell asleep.”

It took a couple minutes before I could move, but eventually, Celestia and I said our goodbyes. The guards stationed outside the room glanced at us, but remained silent as ever.

“My most-trusted guards are privy to a few secrets,” Celestia whispered. I sincerely hoped she was reading my expression rather than my mind.

Our slow pace was frustrating, but she didn’t seem to mind. “How have you been, Sterling? We don’t speak very often.”

Nopony else was nearby, though that did little to stop the clopping of others’ hooves echoing through the wide halls—Equestrian public buildings were always noisy, and I hadn’t quite mastered the art of tuning out the sound of hooves.

“Sterling?”

Even then, I could still hear the coughs. Most of them were light, but more than a few ponies were trying to eject their lungs. Sneezes were rare, but that wasn’t a symptom to watch out for.

“Are you alright, Sterling?”

My mobility was shot. Getting away would be nigh impossible, and stealth would be almost as difficult. I looked around the hallway, trying to pinpoint ambush spots. The surprise attacks were never intentional, but that didn’t make them any less effective.

“Sterling Gears.” The words rang in my ears with the authority of a regent, and a wave of power washed over me. Nothing felt different, but my attention was drawn to “Sunny Skies.” There was no indication she was the one who spoke, but I knew better.

“I really don’t like hospitals.”

“I have heard. Do you wish to talk about it?”

“I don’t think this is the appropriate place. Who knows would could be listening in?”

She giggled and draped a wing over my back. “I have my ways.”

“Oh, right. Laws of reality optional.” Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “There’s nothing to really talk about. Was trapped in a hospital for a couple months. Just another of those cases where I wonder how much was me and how much was Grue pulling the strings.”

“If you do not wish to discuss it with me, perhaps you will bring it up with Twilight.”

“Why did you want me to help her so badly? Isn’t there anybody with actual training who could help better? Even then, wouldn’t you be a better option?” Unless she wanted me to give Twilight another temporary power boost with a blasting rod, there wasn’t much I could do.

Celestia sighed and looked off into the distance. “I believe confiding in a friend is the best option available to her, and even if you don’t think so, this is what Twilight needs. Please, Sterling, as a favor to me, help her recover.”

Shocked at how desperate she sounded, I stumbled and almost took her with me. She wasn’t asking as a princess. She was asking as a friend. “I’m not about to leave her be. You saw how hurt she was.”

“Twilight draws much strength from her friends, and I rather she relied on them instead of her mentor. Thank you, Sterling.” She nuzzled me, and we walked the rest of the way to the lobby in amicable silence.

“I’ll see you later, Ce—Sunny. I need to stop at the pharmacy.”

She smirked at the slip. “Alright. It was good speaking with you again. Have a good day, and don’t forget about the appointment tomorrow.” With any luck, I’d left myself a note at home, because I had no idea what she was talking about.

It took little effort to get the prescription refilled, but when I went to pack them, I realized my saddlebags were still at home. Not wanting to hold the bottle in my mouth all day, I stuffed it into my mane, thankful I hadn’t tamed the unruly mess. I’d heard each side was supposed to be brushed a hundred times every night, but I always got bored somewhere around three.

Despite my nerves being frazzled from the hospital, I felt refreshed. Sunset was a couple hours off, but there was nothing left for me to do in Ponyville. I hadn’t really felt like mingling with the pack for a day or two, but that was no excuse. It was time to actually be a beta. I wouldn’t even rely on Spot to give a report—I was going to check everything myself.

Every time I went down into the caves, the pack reminded me of how amazing they were when working with stone. As trade with Ponyville had continued, several dogs had found a knack for stonecarving and decided the caves could use a bit more attention. So far, most of the main tunnels had been levelled and smoothed, and even the main cavern had been cleaned up a bit.

Pinkie had the bright idea to teach them the basics of rock farming. After the lesson, I still had no idea how it worked, but the rest of the pack understood it well enough to set up a couple fields on the surface.

The last project I needed to check was the tunnel leading directly to Ponyville. Mayor Mare had been furious I’d gone behind her back at first, but she couldn’t deny the tunnel had saved lives and expedited trade. The pack was industrious, but there was a lot of track to lay, and it would be at least a month or two to get down there as well as another couple months for the return rails. Things were running smoothly, but I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last.

Night still hadn’t fallen by the time I closed my front door and looked around to make sure Dash hadn’t knocked over anything earlier.

There was only one thing she could have knocked off the shelves, and I was surprised Dave’s hat hadn’t ended up on the other side of the room. Rarity had refused to accept any sort of payment, but that didn’t stop me from stuffing a small bag of bits in her mailbox when she wasn’t looking.

“Really wish you were still around. Don’t even know what I’m doing half the time, and there’s no ‘inner’ voice pointing me in the right direction. I can’t even hang out with you and Luna in my dreams anymore.” I needed a break. “During the day, the quiet’s the worst part. And I know they’re gone, but at night, I can still hear the voidlings’ whispers.”

I looked back towards the materials on my workbench. “I bet you’d have an idea for getting that to work. Something like building a kinda flexible base to tide me over until I figure out how to put together a decent shock absorber and artificial knee… That could work.”

——

A loud banging jolted me awake, and I blearily looked around until more noise made me realize it was just a visitor’s knocking. Celestia’s reminder came to mind, as did the note I’d forgotten to look for. Then again, I probably hadn’t left one in the first place.

“Coming!” Hobbling to the door worked out a few of the kinks from falling asleep at the table, but sitting through a meeting with some Canterlot official wasn’t going to be much fun when I felt like I needed to pop my everything.

At least whoever was at the door had enough courtesy to remain quiet until I opened the—wow, that was bright. I wondered if I was the only one getting the special treatment or if she made a hobby out of blinding random ponies everyday.

“Sterling Gears?”

I nodded as I squinted to make out who was talking. So far, I’d learned she was a talking, yellow-and-green blob, maybe even a pony.

“I’m the representative from the archaeology branch of the Historian’s Guild, and we had a meeting scheduled for today. You came highly recommended by both princesses.” Even though her words were calm, there was a restrained fire to her voice, like if Dash had a workaholic sister.

“For what?” My eyes were starting to ache from all the squinting, but they’d adjusted enough to make out a pair of wings.

“That’s what I’m here to discuss. May I come in, or are we going to remain in your doorway?”

I stepped aside to let her pass and take a chair. The green turned out to be a vest with more pockets than stitches, making it the most clothing I’d seen on a pony since I arrived.

“Should’ve brought a torch. No wonder she couldn’t see,” she muttered, shifting in her seat before giving up and moving to a different one.

“I never got your name.” Readjusting to the darkness was much easier, and the pegasus quickly came into focus.

Daring Do looked at me like Applejack had bucked me in the head one too many times, and she deadpanned, “Really?”

“Never mind.”

Author's Notes:

Sheesh, Lab, it's about time you published this.

So, who's ready for another bout of sporadic updates, writer's panic, and Gears's antics? I know I am.

The North awaits.

Every Day Brings Something New

“So, can I get you anything?” I tilted my head towards the kitchen.

I’d never given much thought to whether Daring Do was just a character from a book series, and it was a bit too much to process without coffee or the two hours of waking up that the beverage usually substituted. Coffee pots were mysteriously absent in Ponyville, so I hadn’t been able to locate one for myself, making mornings a hassle.

She stopped inspecting the room and thought for a moment. “No thanks. Already ate.”

I shrugged and sat on one of the cushions that had been liberated from the fire at Soft Down’s Inn. They were worth the risk. “Alright. I’d probably drop it anyway.”

Daring opened her mouth, but instead of her first answer, shook her head and said, “Let’s get down to business. What do you know about the Frozen North?”

“That it’s cold and to the north?” What else was I supposed to say? It wasn’t like I could remember it from any of the books Twilight had thrown at me.

She facehoofed. “Other than that.”

“Geography isn’t my strong suit. Neither is knowing who’s fictional and who will be waking me up the next morning.”

“I don’t spend a lot of time in Equestria. Even then, I try not to draw attention to myself by walking around public without a decent disguise, but if we’re going to be working together, I figured it’d be polite to let you know I’m more than a pencil pusher.”

“Yeah, your colors are kinda distinct. What brought you back to Equestria this time?”

“I was overseeing a two-year dig in Zebrica when I received a letter from the princesses. Good thing too. I was about to go crazy from the boredom. Things were hectic and fun the first couple months, but then it was just watching foals play in the dirt. Anyway, the princesses want to mount an expedition to travel north of the Crystal Mountains.” At my shrug, she sighed and added, “North of the Crystal Empire.”

“Never been there, but I know it exists.”

“It’s a start.” She would have had just as much trouble finding Antarctica if I’d asked her to point it out on a globe of Earth.

“Did it used to have an emperor? Sombra was a king, and Cadence is a princess.”

“How can you know about Sombra but not the Frozen North? It’s where ponies lived before Equestria even existed. This is an important part of your history!”

“Never took the time to learn. Been busy with plenty of other things.” Apparently, the princesses hadn’t told Colonel Mustard I’d only been a pony for about a month.

“Yes, I read your dossier.”

“Wait, what? I have a dossier?” I didn’t think Celestia had faked that much information.

Daring smirked. “I’ll call it an uncompiled biography if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m just surprised I have one.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t expect there to be much information on the leading authority of a previously stagnant field of research? Not to mention your position as Beta of a diamond dog pack alongside a Bearer. Nice job on that, by the way.”

I smiled. “As much as I enjoy being Beta, I never would have planned on it. And did you say I was the leading authority?” I wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed with Equestria or just flattered with myself.

“This is an excellent time to get back on track. You are, and that’s why I’m here. The princesses have wanted to reclaim some of ponykind’s history for centuries, but there is a bit of an issue with the Crystal Mountains.”

“They want me to blow up an entire mountain range?”

Daring kept a straight face for all of two seconds before she was on the floor, legs flailing at the air as she laughed until she could hardly breathe. “I love how—I love how that is the first thing that you thought of.”

“Hey, that’s what happened last time they called me in. Besides, nothing else I can do with thaumite could be used to bypass a mountain, let alone a bunch of them. They’re stubborn like that. Why can’t pegasi just fly over them?”

“Just give me a moment. Haven’t laughed like that in months.” She took a deep breath as she patted her various pockets like she was checking for her keys. Her grumbles were interrupted by a smug “Aha!” as she produced a bundle of wool cloth. “You’ve probably heard pegasi don’t mind the cold as much as other ponies, right?”

“Yep.” I watched as she set it on the table and unwrapped it, her breath becoming more visible as the number of layers dwindled. The air’s temperature dropped a couple degrees, just enough to be noticeable.

The insulation had comprised most of the package’s bulk, and what remained was a plum-sized chunk of ice sculpted to look like water in motion. Fog oozed from it constantly, rolling across the table and dissipating a short distance away. “Let me tell you, I am glad this thing is out of my pocket. This is everfrost.”

Whatever it was, it took the first law of thermodynamics behind a shed and mercilessly beat it with a rusty pipe. Poking it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Holy crap, that is cold!” Poking it definitely wasn’t a good idea, and I’d touched it with a hoof. Ice cubes were like handwarmers compared to that thing.

Daring chuckled as I nursed my hoof. “Above the Crystal Mountains is a zone of extreme cold. Everfrost is what happens when you toss some water into it. Pegasi might be hardy, but even we can’t handle something cold enough to turn our feathers as brittle as glass in less than a second. Nothing short of dragonfire will melt it either.”

“Because magic?”

Daring shrugged. “Something like that. All I know is that it’s cold.”

“How cold is it?”

“Cold enough to destroy any thermometer and cause temperature-reading spells to malfunction.”

“Very cold. Got it.” It was easy enough to blast something into tiny bits, but insulating an airship against a place cold enough to flash freeze a penguin in a parka would be much more challenging.

The scorch marks on the workbench caught my eye as I cobbled ideas together just to throw them out a minute later. As awesome as it would be to have a flamethrower on an airship, thaumite couldn’t conjure fire, and it was an accident waiting to happen. That much fire would have come in handy when the voidlings were still out and about. I made a mental note to research flamethrowers at a later time.

Daring’s voice brought me back to the meeting. “There is one more thing to discuss before you can make your decision.”

I could only imagine what absurd obstacle she neglected to add. “Being cold enough to use the Kelvin scale isn’t enough? What, does it also have house-sized hail?”

A loud popping noise made me wince as Daring stretched in her seat. ”Oh yeah, that’s the spot… Sorry, couldn’t sit still. What’s a Kelvin and why—never mind. This isn’t even about the Crystal Mountains.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “Most airships are built at a shipyard in Canterlot, but all four skydocks are being used to build ‘luxury’ ships for fat cats with more bits than common sense.”

I was proud it didn’t take me long to piece it together. “And you want to build it here, seeing as there’s all this land and a readily available supply of metal.” At least I wouldn’t have to worry about getting too far away from the pack.

“Precisely. Payment would be provided in full for materials and services, of course.” Now that’s what I liked to hear.

“I’ll have to discuss it with Pinkie and the rest of the pack, but I don’t see why they’d object.” Well, the pack might be leery of that many unfamiliar ponies trotting around, but they would get over it.

“As in Pinkamena Diane Pie, the Element of Laughter?” Her brows migrated to the top of her head. Honestly, was it so hard to believe that Pinkie led—never mind.

“Yeah, but that’s a mouthful. She just goes by Pinkie Pie. Or Pinkie.”

“I thought that was a joke.”

“We hear that a lot. You should have met her already if you flew here from Ponyville.”

“No, I took to the air right after arriving at the train station.” She was lucky Rainbow hadn’t spotted her. If that’d happened, there was no way she would have been here on time.

“Then she’s probably sitting outside the front door right now.”

“Quiet, you,” said the front door.

Daring snorted into her hoof. “Can’t you just discuss it with her now?”

“What do you think of the offer, Pinkie?”

“I am not Pinkie. I am… Door, but I believe the one known as Pinkie would say ‘yes’.”

“Thank you, Door. Well, Daring, I still have to talk to everydog, but—”

“No, is fine.” That time, Door sounded a lot like Spot.

“How many of you are out there instead of at your posts?” Call me paranoid, but there was more in Equestria to be worried about than voidlings. That’s not to say all of them were on sentry duty, just a pair at each of the main entrances and a handful more scattered elsewhere. Knowing this world’s love of wordplay, it was only a matter of time before something like rock lobsters attacked.

Door answered with a sound not unlike a dozen diamond dogs stumbling over one another as they beat a quick retreat, yelps interspersed between the clanging of metal on metal. I would have preferred a number, but that would suffice.

“This is the strangest pack of diamond dogs I have ever known, and I haven’t even seen any of them yet,” Daring mumbled, her face buried into her hooves like someone had just brought out the picture album of embarrassing foalhood moments.

“Ain’t it great?” Hopefully the meeting wouldn’t last too much longer, as my leg—er, missing leg, you know what I meant—was starting to hurt. “Anyway, I’ll just be working with thaumite, right? I don’t have much experience with… flying thingies. Aeronautics, that’s the word.”

“You’ll be working with the engineers to integrate it properly into the design, but that’s it. Oh, you’ll also be required to teach the crew’s mechanic about proper thaumite handling.”

I hadn’t even considered they’d need somebody for maintenance, but training another would mean I could stay with the pack during the expedition. As much fun as it would have been to go exploring with Daring Do, that pesky thing called “responsibility” demanded my attention.

“I’ve never had to teach before, but I could give it a go. Is there any chance of the worksite getting harassed by Whozawhatil?”

“Ahuizotl.”

“Whatever. Not my fault his name was pieced together by throwing darts at the alphabet. Is he going to be a problem?”

“Well, he shouldn’t be. Last time I saw him, he fell off a cliff.”

“Screaming ‘Curse you, Daring Do!’ on the way down?”

“Heh, yeah. Predictable bastard, ain’t he?” Daring chuckled as she looked off into the distance like she was reminiscing. “Besides, he’s in Equestria less often than I am. If the princesses catch wind of him on their turf, he’s done.”

“Will you wear the pith helmet next time you visit?”

“Why? This is hardly the appropriate climate.”

“Please? You know you feel weird without it.” It’d be like me intentionally going without my goggles. Birds fly, dolphins get caught in tuna nets, and I wear goggles—it’s the natural way of things.

“...Fine.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’m in.”

Daring beamed with earnest excitement. “Great! I will return with the documents and roster once everybody possible has been hired.”

“And here I thought I was the only one who said ‘everybody’ for mixed groups.”

“When you’ve travelled the world as much as I have, it’s much easier just to use the catch-all instead of double-checking who you’re talking to.”

“So, who will I be tutoring?”

“Don’t know yet. You’re one of the first contacted, since it’d be foolish to not have the location sorted out as early as possible. At the earliest, the airship and construction crews are still a week from being completed.”

“At least that’ll give me time to start the research.” Twilight was going to make me get a library card if I kept checking out her books.

“That’s the spirit. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Gears.” Her hoof moved a couple of inches before she realized she wasn’t wearing a hat she could tip, so she settled for a respectful nod.

“Ew, formality. ‘Sterling’ or ‘Gears’ is fine, but no Ms., Mrs., or anything in between.” It had nothing to do with the man-to-mare thing. I wouldn’t let her call me “Mr.” if I were still male. “Are you leaving the everfrost here?”

“Yes, I figured it would help with your research. Have a good day, Sterling.”

“You too. Watch out for the confetti.”

“Wha—” was all she got out before she opened the door and disappeared in a cloud of confetti and streamers. Confetti fluttered to the floor around her as she blinked in confusion, shook her head, and left with another chuckle. “What is wrong with you ponies?”

“I’m not cleaning that up.” Pinkie was thorough, but that didn’t stop me from finding the occasional streamer in an obscured corner.

Pinkie’s head popped around the doorframe and grinned. “Okey dokey lokey.”

I sighed and lay down on the couch, stretching to take up as much of it as possible. The meeting took more out of me than it should have, and I needed a little break before deciding which project to work on.

The temperature shield could wait until after I had a working prototype for my prosthetic, especially since it wouldn’t take more than a day to finish. Well, maybe a bit longer if drawing the blueprints gave me any trouble. I didn’t know how many ponies were running around with peg legs, but keeping all the good stuff to myself would be a dick move.

It took effort to pull myself out of the obscenely comfortable position I’d stumbled upon, but there was a lot of tinkering to do. Pulling the goggles down over my eyes, I got to work.

I hadn’t planned on using thaumite in the prototype, but I just couldn’t resist. Sparks flew and fresh scorch marks marred the worktable as the hours flew by at a speed usually reserved for caffeinated cheetahs. The dull pain faded even further as I lost myself in tinkering, shaping the ductile metals with little more than brute force and enough luck to provide some semblance of finesse.

Piece by piece, bolt by bolt, it took form before my eyes. The occasions where I tried to use my hooves as hands were few and far between, and they rarely set me back more than a few minutes.

A few hours after sunset, I was nearly finished. The subtle gibbering had surfaced when darkness fell, but it was little more than white noise to keep me company. All that was left was getting the thaumite to fit under the outer shell, and if it worked like it was supposed to, a light source was just a small adjustment away at any time. Granted, a front leg would work better, but I wasn’t about to lose another limb just because it’d be more convenient.

“Just a little more.” Any accusations that the tip of my tongue stuck out the corner of my mouth were nothing but lies.

In the corner of my eye, a figure stepped out of the shadows. I jumped, spinning to see what I was dealing with, my hooves mashing the thaumite into itself. There was a burst of light and sound, and the last few hours were scattered around the room, reduced to little more than scrap. Nothing had nicked me too badly, but it wasn’t the tiny cuts that stung the most.

There was nothing there.

With a scream of frustration, I swept my hooves across the top of the workbench, knocking off what little remained. All that time spent was gone. It was only a few hours wasted, but I’d felt almost good for those few hours, that is, until they were destroyed by a lapse of judgement and a slip of the hoof.

As much as I wanted to scream and throw things in a cathartic fit, my anger was slipping. I was just… tired.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow. I need to take a break from this and go to sleep.” I took caution not to step on anything as I made my way to the bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

The lights were still on, mocking my lack of energy to get up and pull the shutters closed. It couldn’t hurt to leave them on, and fewer shadows meant fewer incidents. Yeah, I could learn to sleep with the lights on.

Author's Notes:

Chapter two is go!

You may have noticed the cover art. Turns out I never forgot how to use Photoshop.

Hope everyone is enjoying things so far.

If you believe the comics are canon, there actually are rock lobsters in Equestria. I personally don't think "official" and "canon" are always synonymous, but I'm not going to fault people who acknowledge a different combination of comics, episodes, and movies than I do.

Counsel in the Dark

For the second time in as many days, I was awoken by somebody abusing my door. While Daring’s knocks had held confidence, each of these strikes were reserved, with a long pause between each impact. Faint mumbling reached through the door, and I would have hesitated in opening it if the voice didn’t sound familiar.

“Princess Purple?”

Twilight Sparkle had seen better days. The bags under her eyes could have been used to carry luggage, and Rarity would have had an aneurysm if she saw the state of Twilight’s mane. Despite how exhausted she looked, she couldn’t stand still and constantly looked behind her like she was expecting to see a poorly disguised surveillance van.

“Really? You’re calling me that again?”

“I was asleep. Give me a break.”

She shrunk back like she’d woken up Celestia instead. “I’m sorry… I saw the lights and thought you were still awake. Sterling, I’m sorry it’s two in the morning, but I need somepony to talk to.”

Rubbing my eye with a fetlock, I sighed. “You didn’t have to wait until two to show up.”

“I would have been here ten minutes ago but I accidentally—can I come inside? It’s a little chilly out here.”

Actually, the weather was quite balmy. There was no way she would have felt cold unless she was carrying her own chunk of everfrost.

“Yeah, of course.” I didn’t know what she thought she saw, but it would have been poor manners to abandon her to it.

Twilight smiled appreciatively as she walked past. The light spilling from the doorway didn’t spread far, but the moon did a fair job of illuminating things. For once, I wasn’t the one seeing things in the shadows, but seeing Twilight so anxious was even worse.

A pained yelp drew my attention as I closed the door. “Sterling, what’s all this junk over the floor?”

“My leg exploded.” It was not lost on me how interesting that comment would have been out of context. “It happened right before I went to bed, so I was just going to clean it up in the morning. Did you step on something?”

“I’ll be fine. It surprised me more than anything else.” The various pieces of shrapnel around the living room jerked into the air and moved through the air like a fleet of metallic hummingbirds. Twilight sighed with relief as they fell into the trashcan with a clank.

“Are you tired? You’re usually much better at levitating things.”

“No—well, I am tired, but that’s not it. Ever since… then, I’m having trouble moderating how much magic I expend on any of my spells. Like I’d started saying earlier, I was late because I… accidentally teleported to Vanhoover.”

If I remembered correctly, Ponyville to Vanhoover was a two-day train ride. “I think you overshot a tad.”

“That’s not even the half of it. Instead of teleporting right back to Ponyville, I ended up in Canterlot Castle somehow. Princess Luna says ‘Hello,’ by the way.”

“I don’t really know what I can do to help if you’re having magic issues.”

“That’s not it at all. That nap I took after you and Celestia left me in the hospital only lasted fifteen minutes before I woke up screaming, and I haven’t been able to sleep since then. I can barely handle being in the dark—it’s like a canvas for my nightmares.” Twilight practically fell onto the couch as she sat down, looking to me with bloodshot eyes that would have given anything for rest. “I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

There was plenty of space left on the couch, but sitting right next to her felt like what she needed. “I don’t know where to start, Twilight. There isn’t something I can say to just make it better or help you sleep. I can listen, and I can fill in the blanks of what you saw or felt, but I’m worried I won’t be able to help enough.”

Twilight trembled lightly as she listened, and a bit of it showed in her voice. “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do either. I have books on psychology and mental trauma back at the library, but they’re so… uninformed.”

“I can understand why they wouldn’t have a section on reliving the last moments of another universe or two.”

“None of them do, but that’s not what I was getting at. I’d never realized how idyllic Equestria is, because it was all I knew. I had no frame of reference. Now though—” Twilight sighed, slumping even further “—now I know what happens when the monsters win.”

“Then it’s a good thing we won, so nobody else has to find out.” I bumped against her, grinning, though it faltered slightly when she gave a start. “You’re safe here, Twilight. To be fair, you’d probably be safe in a lot of places once you get that power under control. Can’t think of too much that’d mess with somepony who can throw a mountain at them.”

She gave a half-hearted snort, and the faintest of smiles graced her muzzle. “Yes, I am the mightiest of librarians.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Suddenly, I was much more concerned about making sure my library books weren’t overdue.

Twilight’s jaw popped as she yawned. “Sorry, I’m just so tired. All I want to do right now is sleep.”

“That’s a good place to start then. Back when I had to go into the nightmares—I’m sorry Pinkie dragged you and Spike into that last one for some reason—I had to explore the dream and figure out what my hangup was. We can’t do exactly that, since we’re not going into them, but we can discuss individual memories that stand out. Unless you have a better idea.”

“No, that’s about what I figured we’d end up doing.” Twilight shuffled her hooves nervously, like she needed to build her courage. “Do you have any relaxing tea blends?”

“Maybe? I’m sure I have tea somewhere around here, but no clue what kind it is. You’re free to look through the cupboards and put this off just a bit longer.”

Twilight chuckled sheepishly and trotted into the kitchen and out of sight. The sound of creaking cupboard doors and rustling foodstuffs was only interrupted by the occasional grumble of “How does she find anything?”

Sleep was just about to drag me under when Twilight said, “Found it! Ooh, lavender.”

“Of course that’s what you picked.” I was sure that on the other side of the wall, she was rolling her eyes. “Need any help?”

“No, it’ll just be a moment.” True to her word, she soon walked back into the room and set two cups of steaming tea on the table. I still knew absolutely nothing about tea, but I had to admit it smelled awesome. “What’s in this bundle of cloth on your table? I didn’t think natural magic could feel cold.”

“I’ll tell you about it later. You have your tea, so now we’re dealing with the whole reason you’re here. I’m sure you’d like to sleep again, right?”

Twilight stared into her tea like it held the answer to life, the universe, and everything. “Alright. Which one do I start with?”

As much as I wanted to help her, I wasn’t looking forward to playing nightmare roulette and potentially reliving things I’d forgotten for a reason. “If nothing sticks out, just go with the most recent, I guess.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “It always starts with somepony—’somebody’ would be far more accurate—else dying. Different people, different places, but little else changes. I don’t know how much time I spent doing nothing but crying over the body. Then, they wake up, except it’s not them anymore.

“Sometimes, it’s over in seconds and the memory disappears just as I feel their teeth press against my neck. Other times, they take a chunk out of my leg, and the disease slowly squirms through my veins. I was lucky the memories were close enough to dreams that I couldn’t actually feel their pain.” She shuddered. “I’d probably be a gibbering mess if I could.”

“Hey,” I said quietly, leaning against her, “that’s not going to happen here.” If even one infected showed up, I was going to show Equestria the meaning of overkill.

“That wasn’t even the worst part. Recently, I’ve been seeing… my family and friends in that position. You showed up once or twice.” Her last sentence was barely audible.

I might have chuckled if she weren’t so upset. “See, that’s just wrong. I was entirely prepared to kill myself if I was bitten.”

“How could you say that?” Twilight pulled away like she’d been struck, and I yelped as I fell towards her. “How can you even consider suicide as an option?” she asked, roughly uprighting me.

“Because being bitten is already a death sentence. The least you can do is make sure you don’t come back and start attacking survivors.”

“But what if it doesn’t kill you? What—”

“There is no ‘if it doesn’t kill you,’ Twilight. It has a one-hundred percent mortality rate. The moment it gets in your bloodstream, you are a danger to everyone around you. I don’t like the idea, but it’s the best course of action. We’re getting a bit off topic though. Twilight, you don’t have to worry about it here, and that’s that.”

“I want to believe that, I really do, but there was once a time where I thought it was impossible to travel between dimensions.”

She had a point, and there was probably nothing I could say that would make her think otherwise. If the dead walked Equestria, Twilight’s nightmares might very well become reality. If I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen, I could at least give her the knowledge she needed.

“If it happens, aim for the head. Destroy the brain and you’re safe.”

“What?”

“That’s how you get rid of a zombie. If the brain is destroyed, the body won’t reanimate.” A small voice in the back of my head whispered magic might complicate things if it’s the source of the infection, but that was something for me to worry about, not her. “Decapitation isn’t enough, since the body will become useless, but the head will still be a minor threat.” I giggled at a memory that had resurfaced at the mention of decapitation.

“I don’t get what could possibly be funny about cutting off something’s head.”

“That’s a story for a different time.” It was a good one too, as messy as it was.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So you know what to do if it happens. So you know how to stop it from spreading further, one infected being at a time. So you can stop that situation from ever happening. Take your pick. I don’t know if it’ll stop that particular nightmare, but it’s a start.”

Twilight sighed, and this time, she was the one who leaned against me. “I think I understand what you’re trying to do, but what about them? They’re still dead.”

“Well yeah, but it’s still just a dream. If you’re worried about your friends, pretty much all of them are nearby. If you’re worried about your parents, mail them a letter. Heck, you could probably teleport right to their door. It’s a dream that can’t hurt you. And if it happens for real, you now know how to make it impossible for it to hurt anyone again.”

“I guess that does make me feel a bit better. With any luck, it should help with the nightmares.”

“Did you happen to ask Luna about it when you saw her earlier? She would know a lot more about fixing nightmares than me.” Considering most of what Twilight knew about zombies was people getting killed by them, Luna was probably the second most knowledgeable pony on the subject, and she’d forgotten more about nightmares than most ever learned.

Twilight shook her head slowly. “She has her hooves full with nightmares caused by the voidlings, and she could barely take the time to tell me that much and reaffirm that I was to see you about it.”

It was my turn to sigh. “I’d like to think they know what they’re doing, but I don’t know…”

For whatever reason, she didn’t reply. It was possible she was doubting Celestia but was too scared to admit it. I knew she respected her mentor, but not if it was just a healthy appreciation or full on hero worship.

“You haven’t touched your tea at all. Is something wrong?” she eventually asked.

I snorted and waggled a hoof at her. “Yeah, these things. I don’t even know why I own teacups that break if you drop them.” In truth, I was just wary of holding something fragile after the earlier incident with the prosthetic. It made me feel dirty hiding things from her after she’d bared some of her fears, but it wasn’t an issue worth bringing up. Yep, that’s what I was going with.

“I’ve seen you hold a teacup before. It was clear you weren’t used to it, but you never actually dropped anything.”

“Yeah, but I had both hind legs to stabilize myself back then.” It was a flimsy lie, but at least it made some sense.

She scrutinized me for a few moments and then nodded. “I should have considered that before pouring you some. I’m sorry.”

Actually, no. I wasn’t going to let this turn into one of those “why’d you hide something from me, I thought we were friends” things. “Actually, that’s not the whole truth. Or most of it. I… saw something while I was tinkering a few hours ago, and it surprised me so much that when I turned to see it, I slipped with the thaumite I was working into the prosthetic.”

“So when you said your leg exploded…”

“Yeah, that’s what caused it. Sorry I didn’t mention it right away.”

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hold it against you. What did you see?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t actually there, of course, so I saw nothing when I tried to get a closer look. It didn’t move, it just vanished. I can’t even tell you what species it was supposed to be. I’m worried that if I handle anything delicate, it or something else will show up again.” A knot grew in my throat as I thought of my usual shield for hallucinations. “If Dave was still around, I wouldn’t be concerned with anything I only thought I saw.”

“Do you want to talk about him? Even if I heard that thing talk about what Dave actually was, I never got the opportunity to have a civil conversation with him.”

“I don’t really care what Grue said he was. Dave was more than just the scraps that were scooped out of my head so I could be an unwitting, interdimensional smuggler. He was my best friend.”

Twilight remained silent, and the only sign that she heard me was the wing laid across my back. We sat like that for a while, with me trying to regain my composure and Twilight’s gaze alternating between her empty teacup and the bundle of cloth on the table.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“A bit. Thanks. What else did you want to talk about tonight?” Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too much more. I was about ready to fall asleep right there on the couch. It didn’t help that Twilight was pretty warm.

“I think we’ve talked enough about the serious stuff for one night.” The bundled everfrost was wrapped in purple and floated towards us. “How about we talk about this? Does it have anything to do with the rumors that Daring Do was spotted flying in this direction?”

“She was here for a meeting with me. I’m supposed to develop temperature shielding for an airship capable of making it over the Crystal Mountains.” I stifled a chuckle as Twilight’s eyes bugged out. “Save your questions for later. I won’t be going on the trip, just designing the spell pattern and training the mechanic that will be on the final crew. The workers will be building the ship around here, in the Gem Hills. And yes, Daring Do actually exists.”

“I knew the last one.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “She was in her office one of the times I visited the Historian’s Guild. She’s a bit rough around the edges, and come to think of it, she reminds me a lot of Rainbow Dash. I wonder if they’re related.”

“I thought the same thing.” My hooves trembled slightly as I picked up the teacup. My throat was parched, and Twilight probably had more questions than feathers. “Mind spotting me? You might actually be able to catch the teacup if I drop it.”

If I was going to be stuck with hooves for the rest of my life, I needed all the practice I could get, so why not get it when I can use magic as a safety net? Maybe I could get to the point where a little scare wouldn’t cause me to undo an entire night of work.

Careful. Careful. Oh shi—the teacup slipped from my hooves just as it got to my muzzle, splashing a bit of tea that inevitably found its way into my eyes. Twilight gasped, and I felt the wind from something shooting past my head like a bullet before crashing into the ceiling. The teacup hadn’t been rated for high speed collisions, and as such, it shattered spectacularly, drizzling us with tea and ceramic shards.

“What just happened?” Using my foreleg, I wiped most of the tea out of my eyes. It didn’t sting like shampoo, but it still wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Twilight, what just happened?” I enunciated each word slowly and clearly while I did my best to brush cup chunks out of my mane.

“It surprised me and I put too much magic into catching it and I’m sorry!”

“Relax. I am way too stunned and-slash-or tired to be mad. Also, it’s amusing when you panic.” At least the cup didn’t suffer.

“You really aren’t mad? Well, that’s a relief. I thought for sure—oh, your couch is soaked. Let’s get up so I can dry it off.”

“What about drying us off?”

“I’ll take care of that next.” Her horn lit up once again.

Then my couch burst into flames.

“No more helping!” I shouted as she started apologizing frantically. I was worried that if she did any more, some of the laws of reality would be rewritten. It was Twilight’s fault I couldn’t have nice things. “Go find a fire extinguisher!”

“A what?” she called from the kitchen

“Godammit, Equestria! I can’t reinvent everything!”

Looking around for a way to get rid of the fire without risking Twilight sending the couch through the wall, my eyes fell upon the wrapped-up everfrost. I figured it was worth a shot, because it wasn’t like it would hurt the everfrost.

Biting wool was surprisingly unpleasant, and I could feel it rubbing against my teeth as I tossed the whole bundle into the flames. Almost instantly, the fire started to die down as the enchanted ice sapped its heat. There wasn’t nearly as much mist coming off the everfrost as before, which made sense with the fire drying out the air.

“Neat.”

“What did you do?”

“Fixed it with the little gift Daring Do left behind. Twilight, everfrost. Everfrost, Twilight. I didn’t think this through very well. It did what I wanted it to, but I don’t have anything to pick it up with now.”

“I’d use magic, but it’s making me shiver just from looking at it.”

“You shouldn’t be using magic until after you’ve had some sleep. I’m going to grab some towels for us to dry off with. They shouldn’t burst into flames, but you can’t be too sure.” I smirked at her as I left the room. After all that drama, I needed a break.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?” she called after me.

“You lit my couch on fire!”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Here, dry yourself off. The tea smells nice, but I don’t think you’d want to smell like it all the time.”

I tossed the towel over her head, giggling as I heard a quiet “Really, Sterling?” from her.

While we were drying off, I yawned, which made her yawn, which started a yawning marathon that reminded us how tired we were.

“I think that’s as dry as I’ll get. I’m going to head home and try sleeping again.”

“No way you’re teleporting home after that fiasco. You’ll end up teleporting my house into the ocean or something. You can sleep here. I have a bed”

“That would have put out the fire at least,” she mumbled, scrunching up her face in thought. “Alright, but where are you going to sleep?”

“The cou—fuck.” I didn’t have a second bed in the house either. A guest room would have been a decent addition, but any improvements to my home could wait until every pack member had a better home than a pile of stones shaped like a hut.

She spoke again as the two of us walked towards the bedroom. “You’re not going to sleep on the floor, and I doubt you’d let me do it either. We can share the bed, Sterling.” At my incredulous expression, she rolled her eyes and added, “Don’t be so immature. Two ponies can share a bed without engaging in, umm, adult activities.” If anything else was going to catch fire that night, it’d probably be Twilight’s cheeks.

“That wasn’t it at all.” Yes it was. “I’m just worried you’ll blow me up in your sleep or something.”

She let out a frustrated sigh as she curled up in the middle of the bed. “Goodnight,” she said with all the subtlety of a grizzly going into hibernation.

Instead of getting irritated that there wasn’t any space that wasn’t practically next to Twilight, I pretty much threw myself onto the bed. She grunted at the jostling, but her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter.

Lying on the mattress reminded me how tired I was, as every bit of my body protested the night’s activities once it realized I could finally pass out. If anybody woke me up before I was damn good and ready, I’d introduce my hoof to their head.

Author's Notes:

No, this is not me romantically shipping two characters. I'm not one of those writers who thinks that every last character needs to be shipped. This is a friendship; it's a close friendship, but still a friendship. They exist, you know. Instead of mashing two dolls together making "mwah" sounds, I'm saying "friendly bonding!"

Besides, it's not like Twilight and Gears have known each other for more than a few weeks. I doubt everyone that wants to complain about it will read this and realize they're being silly, but that's their fault. I get to point up here and make them feel silly.

Anywho, next time on "Sprockets in the North": gardening.

Rebel Flora

Four days later, my home still reeked of burnt couch. I’d gotten used to it quickly enough, but Daring Do didn’t have that luxury. As soon as I let her in, her face scrunched up in disgust, and she looked around, sniffing occasionally. She’d even remembered her helmet this time, so the day was off to a good start.

“Alright, I give up. What smells like a dragon’s rear end?” Daring asked, sitting in the same chair she did last time.

I lay down on the mostly pristine sofa—I’d spilled a drink on it less than two hours after the delivery workers showed up at my door. “A princess lit my old couch on fire.”

It had only taken a day for Twilight to surprise me with a new couch, but it would still be several months before I let her forget about the incident. Its color didn’t match my decor, but then again, neither did the rest of my furniture’s.

“I’m not sure if I should be worried that Ponyville’s weirdness has spread this far from town. Speaking of weird, what’s with the sun and moon being out at the same time?”

“Wait, what?” I couldn’t see either one through the window, but the sky’s color did look a bit off.

“How could you not notice?”

“Letting you in was the only time I could have noticed, and I was too busy wondering who was stopping me from sleeping until the afternoon.” Damn morning ponies.

“Suck it up. Tonight’s the Summer Sun Celebration. Do you think that might have something to do with it?”

Twilight had mentioned something about it yesterday, but I’d been too excited about my first Equestrian holiday to pay too much attention. “It’s the first one since Twilight became a Princess, so maybe? It’s probably nothing to worry about, unless something interesting happened a thousand years ago.”

“Eight-hundred-and-thirty-six years, sure, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Daring chuckled as she produced a scroll and laid it on the table. “Anyway, here’s the complete list of workers and crew members.”

The scroll wasn’t mangled too badly by the time I managed to unroll it and look through the list of names. “I don’t know why I expected to know any of these ponies.”

“Orso’s a griffon, actually. A bit paranoid, but you won’t find a better lookout this far from the Griffon Kingdoms.” Daring’s words threw me off—I’d expected Gilda to be the first griffon I ran into.

I glanced back over the list of positions. “No co-pilot?” I wasn’t sure how Equestria handled airships, but only one pilot sounded like a recipe for disaster. Then again, I didn’t know if they still thought filling blimps with hydrogen was a good idea.

She casually waved off the question. “Leafwind’s all the pilot we need, and he comes with a list of recommendations as long as my leg.”

It wouldn’t have taken nearly as long to find the pony I’d be training if I’d bothered to ask what the name of the position was. In hindsight, “Mechanic—Thaumic Engineering” was pretty obvious. “What can you tell me about Smoky Sparks?”

Daring shrugged. “Never met ‘em.”

The name sounded pony-ish at least. “Can you at least tell me if it’s a mare or stallion?”

Daring shrugged again, chuckling as I rolled my eyes.

There had to be at least a hundred names on the list. Most were workers, but the crew was still a couple dozen strong. “This list is a lot longer than I thought it would be. Where are all of you going to be staying?”

“Most of the airship crew is going to be back in Canterlot, training for the expedition—I know my way around a scouting expedition, but a lot of these ponies are pretty green. Besides, there’s no reason for us to be around while the ship is being built. For everybody else, they’ll be putting up a few temporary buildings.”

I wished she would’ve mentioned the housing situation earlier, but whatever they did with the borrowed land was their business. They were paying for it, after all. “Makes sense to me. Ponyville doesn’t have enough spare beds for a project of this size.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t expect it to be so small with how often stuff happens. Small towns are usually pretty boring. Do you have any other questions about the workers or crew?”

After a moment’s thought, I couldn’t find anything either of us left out. “Nope, everything’s peachy on my end.” The poor choice of words left me craving peaches.

“Works for me. With all that business done, I wanted to ask about that shiny new leg of yours.” She gestured towards me, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“It’s just a prototype to use while I work on something better.” Even if I hadn’t been spooked that one night, it was foolish of me to attach the thaumite directly to the aluminium. One impact in the wrong spot and I would have had the same problem. Even worse, anything I could have used as an insulating layer would have thrown off the weight too much.

“Still, I know a few ponies who would love to get their hooves on something like that.”

“I was going to find somebody who could manufacture them once I get the final blueprints drawn up. It took a lot of time getting the measurements and adjustments just right for mine.” I could only imagine how much of a nightmare it would be without being able to feel it for myself.

“I’ll get out of your mane then.” Daring paused halfway to the door and looked over her shoulder. “Next time I’m around, let’s do something not related to the expedition. You probably know where all the fun stuff is around here.”

“I only know a few places, but I know just the ponies to ask.” Maybe I hadn’t been getting out as much as I should have, but better late than never.

“Bring them too. We’ll go bar-hopping or something.” Could the great Daring Do handle a Sonic Rainboom? Even if she couldn’t, I still wanted to see it happen.

“They’ll probably be up for it.” If I didn’t include Dash, she would probably leave a thunderstorm in my bathroom.

“Good to hear. I’ll get in touch when—”

I’m not sure what ridiculously high reflex save Daring needed to dodge the door as it flew open, but she jumped out of harm’s way and reached for her whip with the ease of years of experience. The whip’s usual spot was empty, though one out-of-breath diamond dog wouldn’t have posed much of a threat if it were hostile anyway.

Balto doubled over, panting heavily. “Beta—Beta—”

I didn’t want to listen to him for an hour. “Catch your breath, then tell me what’s going on.”

It didn’t take long for him to recover—none of the diamond dogs were out of shape, but sprinting to my door in heavy armor wasn’t a casual activity. “Vines and clouds from cursed forest attack pony town.” There were very few locations for which diamond dogs used the official name, but it was more trouble than it was worth to try teaching them otherwise.

I almost laughed at the thought of clouds invading anything, but then I realized they’d probably shoot flames or lasers—the Everfree Forest wasn’t known for its benevolence. The more I thought about it, vines and clouds made for a strange attack force, especially when the forest has plenty of manticores and timberwolves to spare.

“Looks like there’s more to it than we thought, Daring. Balto, thanks for the alert. Take a break.” I was already outside before I remembered my other visitor and called back through the doorway, “Daring, follow if you want, but I need to help Ponyville with their weed problem.”

She laughed. “Of course I’m coming. No way I’d miss out on some Ponyville action. Besides, you can’t exactly do much to those clouds.”

Not yet at least. “Oh sure, rub it in.”

I couldn’t gallop or even canter, but we still made good time getting to the main hall, where Daring whistled in approval. Nearly every battle-ready pack member—a couple dozen, give or take a few—was present and waiting for instructions.

Sound travelled so well that I barely had to raise my voice. “Are all the runners finished?” I waited for five confirmations before continuing, “Alright, Ponyville’s in trouble again. This time, it’s the Everfree’s fault. Is anything showing up in the tunnels?”

Western Agate stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Most of our tunnels remain free of obstruction, but nearly a third of the Ponyville tunnel is infested with vines.”

With any luck, the tracks would be easy to clear. “Anything worth noting about them?”

“They seem to possess a mind of their own in addition to their sharp thorns. Furthermore, unicorn magic has become… unpredictable.”

“Good thing I don’t have a horn then.” If magic was out of the question, blasting rods probably weren’t a good idea either. I worked out a plan as the pack stood quietly. “Listen up. Andesite, Chert, and Diorite squads, you’re with me. Felsite and Granite squads, your job is to keep the tunnel as clear as possible. Don’t give those dandelions an inch. The rest of you are keeping watch around here to make sure nothing sneaks by.”

There were no complaints as they organized into their respective groups—or at least tried to. Most of them didn’t remember what squad they’d been assigned to. That was alright, since I didn’t either. Still, it wasn’t too bad for only a few days of practice.

“Close enough.” The groups were uneven and mismatched, but we’d already wasted plenty of time. “Edged weapons only. Plants don’t care how hard you can swing a hammer. Let’s gear up and go.”

The already sloppy ranks blurred further as they funnelled into the tunnels with Daring and me right behind them. The lack of discipline meant nothing, as I held no illusions of being the commander of an organized force. Ponyville just needed a little extra help holding itself together long enough for the Mane Six to learn some random friendship lesson—with how major the situation looked, my bits were on Twilight—or get bored and smack it upside the head with a rainbow.

“About time we got moving.” Daring chuckled as she walked, her head on a swivel to take in as much of the caves as possible. “Don’t suppose you have a supply of gardening shears laying around?”

“Nope. They’re not much use in the rock farm, and I’m the worst gardener around.” It was true—I was pretty much the worst earth pony ever when it came to plants of any kind. “Besides, that would make things too easy.”

“Can’t have that, or we might get bored.” It was good to see that Daring had her priorities straight.

It wasn’t long before the group was scrambling around the portion of the storeroom set aside for armor and weapons. Calling it an armory would have been a little generous. There were more than enough swords and axes to go around, because Fido didn’t know when to stop smithing—well, he probably did but just chose to ignore it.

“I’m impressed. The quality is far beyond what I’ve seen in other diamond dog packs. Heck, this would put most pony smiths to shame,” Daring said as she looked over a sword.

“Fido’s something of a prodigy.” If it wouldn’t have been so impractical in this situation, I would have swung my pick until my neck or jaw ached. Even so, fastening a hatchet to my saddlebags almost felt like I was cheating on the tool tied to the opposite side. “Are you going to take it or just look at it?”

“Was someplace else for a bit. The only traces I’ve seen of diamond dog culture—before now, of course—have been dusty ruins and near-impassable tunnel systems. It’s like the other packs don’t even care. Now’s not really the time for me to be talking about this though.”

“Probably not.” I surveyed the room and noticed everydog was finished—if we were just grabbing weapons, it would have been in and out, but some needed the time to equip shields and armor. “Alright, let’s get to the Ponyville Tunnel on the double.”

Thankfully, our destination was just two turns and a short walk away. There were only two sets of tracks, but it was a simple matter to connect enough carts to carry all of us.

“I don’t know…” Daring knocked on one of the carts, the resulting clang echoing through the tunnels. “Last time I was in a minecart didn’t go so well. Cults and lava are a nasty combination, and I almost lost my helmet.”

“Walk if you want, but there’s no magma anywhere near the tracks.” Probably. There was a small section that always felt a bit warmer, but that could have been a few things. “Not to mention these are powered by magic instead of gravity and inertia. We’re leaving now though, so make up your mind before we pick up too much speed.”

I normally would have had us start at three times the speed, but I wanted to give Daring a chance to hop in.

She fidgeted and jumped into the cart behind mine. Her voice was still understandable over the low rumble of the slowly accelerating wheels and the gentle jostling of armed and armored dogs. “For the record, I’m uncomfortable, not scared.”

I smirked and pulled my goggles down, which most of the pack took as a sign to grip their carts tighter. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” I shouted to the other carts, “We need to pick up the pace. Double speed!”

Daring hunkered down in her cart. “Horsefeathers.” We were still going too slow for my taste, but any faster and we wouldn’t have been able to stop in time.

It’d be a little while before we saw anything, so there was plenty of time for me to take a little break before we had to get to work. I’d found myself taking breaks more and more often over the previous week, and without them, I would have likely been overwhelmed. They were probably the only reason my nerves hadn’t frayed. I was quite relaxed by the time the carts started to slow, coming to a stop after a few minor bumps.

A writhing mess of vines blocked off the entire width of the tunnel. They were so densely packed that I couldn’t see more than a few meters, and even if I’d thought there was a chance at ramming through them, the minecart tracks had been warped to uselessness.

I sighed. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”

The high—if you were a pony—sides of the minecarts weren’t Gears-friendly, and I tumbled to the ground when I tried to climb over the side. A stricter leader may have been miffed by the chuckles coming from every cart, but I was just as amused. “Let’s get chopping.”

Progress was slower than dial-up. We weren’t dragging our hooves or paws, but it was like trying to empty a well with a thimble. The vines may have been as hardy as tree roots, but it wasn’t anything a sharp enough blade couldn’t handle—there were just too many of them in the way. Worse yet, they didn’t take kindly to being trimmed, and several of us had found out just how sharp those thorns were when they lashed out.

“Do these colors remind anybody else of Chrysalis?” Granted, the moldy blue-green was a bit off, but it was still close to her black-and-green color scheme.

“Gears, nobody can understand you with that handle in your mouth.” Daring sighed as she wielded the borrowed sword like a machete. She’d been as enthusiastic as any of us when we started, but now it was just boring. Chop, chop, dodge. Chop, chop, swear loudly as a thorn nicked you in just the right spot.

I made sure to set the hatchet down in a way that would make it easy for me to pick it up again. “I asked if the color of these vines reminded anybody of Chrysalis. You know, tall, black, and buggy? Staged a half-assed invasion of Canterlot until she was launched away at the speed of love?” If I had to guess, the speed of love was how fast someone moved when they realized they’d forgotten their anniversary.

“I’ve only seen a few pictures of her, so I can’t say for certain. What would she be doing in the Everfree?”

“Besides mixing Miracle-Gro with Venom?”

“I don’t know what the first one is or why poison would be used as plant food, but yes.” She wasn’t entirely off, since Venom could be considered a poison of sorts.

“Revenge or distraction would be my guess.” A villainous plot with her at the helm would probably be much more complicated, but I was having trouble reminding myself that this Equestria wasn’t a kid’s show.

“I guess that—Gears, get down!” She flapped her wings to aid her jump, propelling her in front of my face so fast that I couldn’t track her.

Something heavy fell past my head, and I reared in surprise. That wasn’t something I’d thought to test the prosthetic with, but it performed admirably nonetheless. A part of me cringed at the very equine reaction, but at least I hadn’t whinnied.

My axe wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and I certainly hadn’t left it with a severed vine wrapped around the handle. With a snort, I untangled the axe and said, “I have to call bullshit on that one.” The pointy parts were bad enough—we didn’t need the unholy offspring of Audrey II and Jack Torrance.

“You need to pay more attention. This—” Daring poked my side, sending fiery pain racing across my hide and making me wince “—is bad enough.” She turned down her volume as she noticed a few diamond dogs risking glances. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve been a little out of it ever since the ride here.”

I turned to get a better look at the spot she’d more-or-less suckerpunched. “Oh wow, no wonder that stung.” A ragged tear, which reminded me of a coat getting caught on a nail, marred my side. It wasn’t very long or deep, but it was still enough to stain the surrounding fur a soggy red. “I must have nicked something when I fell out of the minecart.”

Daring shook her head. “No, I watched this one hap—we don’t have time for this. You know what? Get your act together or keep your head down.” She turned and got back to work, her slow and precise swings replaced by quick and fierce slashes.

I had no idea what she was getting at. I couldn’t dodge very well, and it wasn’t like I had a suit of armor—barding, whatever—laying around the house in case of emergencies. Actually, armor was starting to sound like a great idea. After the armory was fully stocked and if there was no need for miscellaneous metalworking, I’d have to see what sort of masterpiece Fido came up with.

I caught my thoughts wandering and shook my head to clear it. Daydreaming about armor did nothing to protect my squishy parts. Daring was right—I needed to get my head out of the clouds, or I was going to lose it. And I liked my head where it was, thank you very much.

“I thought I told you to stay out of the way.” Of course, when Daring—and pretty much every other pony that isn’t me—talks with stuff in her mouth, she’s almost understandable. Was there a class somewhere?

“No, you told me to pull my head out of my ass.” What I wanted to say and what came out were as different as diet soda and regular, but Daring got the gist of it, if her smirk was any indication.

By the time we reached the ramp leading up to Ponyville proper, we all looked like we’d been looking for hay in a needlestack, though I was still the owner of the nastiest-looking cut. Behind us, the vines were already working to retake the tunnel, but they didn’t look like they’d forgotten who had bloodied their metaphorical noses.

“Just a bit farther! We may not be the cavalry Ponyville wants, but we’re the one it gets.” The townsfolk had been slowly coming around. Most of our support was from the changeling residents, who I was inadvertently helping by further acclimatizing the citizens of Ponyville to non-ponies.

I yelped as sunlight pierced through a hole in the barrier and right into my eyes, and the pained whines behind me told me I wasn’t alone. I was starting to think that maybe it was the sun who had an issue with me, not Celestia. With transition lenses far beyond Equestria’s tech level, I’d have to find a different way to add shades to my goggles.

“Those clouds might be a bit tougher than I thought. I’d best get started.” Daring took to the air, sword gleaming in the sunlight.

“Do those clouds have spikes?” I asked myself. Sure enough, each of the clouds had more spikes than the average volleyball game. “I’m not okay with this.” What were they even made of?

As expected, Ponyville was a complete mess. Vines covered every building, and in a few places, it was impossible to tell what lay beneath. The crackling, groan-like sound of plants growing far faster than usual mixed with panicked screams and shouts. A few ponies and changelings weren’t letting the vines take over their homes without a fight, though I doubted the effectiveness of the pony recklessly swinging a rake.

I dropped the hatchet and put a hoof on it so it wouldn’t be “borrowed” again. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us. We’ll split into groups of three. Just follow the screams and escort anyone caught outside to the—wait, the town hall is the designated disaster shelter, right?” I was answered with a few shrugs. “Eh, escort them there anyway. If they look really messed up, get them to the hospital instead.”

“What about you, Beta?” one of the diamond dogs asked.

I shrugged. “Probably just follow you guys around and help where I’m needed.”

“Oh, I could use your help. My poor kitty is stuck up in that tree.”

The voice sounded familiar enough that I had an inkling of who it was, but I was still surprised enough to nearly jump out of my skin when he appeared out of nowhere right next to me. Contrary to popular belief, I did not scream like a filly. I may have gasped loudly, but there was no screaming. None whatsoever.

Once my heart calmed to a pace slightly lower than a hummingbird’s, I motioned for everydog to relax. “I’m fine. He just surprised me. Go ahead without me, and I’ll catch up.” As I looked at their hesitant expressions and rigid postures, I remembered that their history portrayed Discord as the one that got away. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I don’t see why. After all, I’ve done just fine with two eyes for this long.” There was a popping noise that made my skin crawl, and Discord started juggling his eyeballs. I was going to cry if he started taking a bite out of them mid-juggle.

Trying not to pay attention to the fact that he was juggling two or three times as many eyeballs as he started with, I turned back to the group. “See, he’s only a danger to himself now. He’s not an escapee anymore. Also, there are ponies who need help a lot more than I do at the moment.” With that, they finally started to reluctantly disperse, most of them shooting a final glare in Discord’s direction.

Even if you ignored the assorted body parts and near-infinite extent of his power, there was still something about Discord’s presence that was unnerving, like someone asking, “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” while jumping up and down on a derelict rope bridge during a typhoon.

“You have a cat?” I couldn’t help but wonder about the real reason he wanted my attention.

Discord sniffled. “Yes, and I just don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.” He pulled a tissue out of his ear and blew his nose, spraying flames that came within centimeters of singeing my mane.

Once I’d made sure I wasn’t on fire, I squinted into the branches, absently wondering why the vines didn’t care much about ensnaring this particular tree. It took me a bit to spot the cat clinging tightly to one of the upper limbs.

“Discord, that’s Rarity’s cat.” Avatar of Chaos or not, I wasn’t going near Opal with anything less protective than a bomb-disposal suit.

The crocodile tears stopped instantly, and he looked where I was pointing. “Huh, so it is. Never mind then.” He called to me as he started walking away, “Walk with me, ‘Sterling Gears’.” It wasn’t a request, and the half-mocking emphasis he put on my name could only mean one thing.

“As much as I’d love to talk with you, I came here to help out Ponyville. If you couldn’t tell, they’re having a bit of a crisis here.” I pointed to where three diamond dogs were working to untangle a pair of trapped ponies.

“They’ll be fine, but if it makes you feel better…” He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, causing a weedwhacker bearing my cutie mark to pop into existence and begin trimming while whistling a jaunty tune. “Happy?”

“I guess that works. I didn’t think Equestria had those yet.”

“They don’t.” His motions slowed as he adjusted his pace for me, throwing his voice out of sync with his mouth.

“Right, Discord. W—”

“No, you can’t call me ‘John’.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask. Pl—”

“No, I can’t fix your leg.”

That one made me frown. “Also not what I was going to ask but still disappointing. H—”

“Why yes, you can have an extra hour in the ball pit. Here’s your voucher.” He flicked a small piece of paper over his shoulder, and it meandered through the air like a drunken bumblebee before finding its way into my saddlebags.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what Discord considered a ball pit. “Thanks, I guess. Can I finally ask my question without getting interrupted?”

“Why would I interrupt you? That would be rude.”

I deadpanned. “Yes, yes it would. What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to see the human-in-Equestria for myself. For the record, I didn’t do it.”

I would have been more worried about him sharing my secret if we weren’t outside of Ponyville and on the path towards the Everfree. There was no way we were walking that fast, but if there’s anything I’d learned about Equestria, it’s that “magic” and “Discord” are valid excuses for anything. Our pace might have also had something to do with the vines moving out of our way—well, Discord’s way. I was just nearby.

“Didn’t do what?”

“Bring you here. It seems poor ol’ Discord is always the first to blame when humans start frolicking.”

I smothered my own hope before it could so much as flicker. “I was told there were no other humans here, and I know for a fact it’s nobody from my world.”

“Tia and Luna don’t know everything, but I wasn’t talking about this Equestria.”

“You’ve been to other universes?” I hoped Discord wouldn’t mind if I sounded a bit terse—my last experience with an extradimensional being hadn’t been pleasant.

“Of course not. I lost my passport ages ago.” Discord produced a floral-print paper cup with a string dangling from its bottom. He must have noticed my expression, as he added, “We went wireless a few decades ago, but my contract won’t let me get rid of the string.”

“What else have the other Discords said?”

“Oh, this and that. One thing that stuck—” a wave of rainbow fire raced along the vines, leaving not even ash behind. “They’re early. For once.”

I rubbed my eyes, though it did nothing to get rid of the after-image. Apparently, rainbow flames are very, very bright. “What were you saying earlier?”

“Hmm? Oh, right. They mentioned a certain pony that just adores humans.” With a snap of his fingers, Lyra appeared and stumbled off the path.

“Gears? What’s going on?” Lyra asked, her eyes rolling haphazardly.

I figured Discord would have been the first to draw her attention, but then again, even Bon Bon had no clue what Lyra was going to do half the time. It was almost like a Pinkie Pie bound by physics. “Ask him.”

Lyra gasped as if she’d just noticed him. “Discord? That explains how I’m here, but not why.”

“I was simply wondering if you knew anything about humans.”

Resisting the urge to groan, I facehoofed. He could have at least tried to be subtle.

Her face scrunched occasionally as she plumbed the depths of her mind. After half a minute, she cheerily answered, “Nope! Is that some kind of fruit?”

Discord shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Alright then. Oh hey, Gears, me and Bon Bon are having a cookout in a few days, want to come?”

My stomach rebelled at the thought of a cookout’s usual spread back on Earth—operant conditioning was a bitch. Still, anything Lyra and Bon Bon were hosting wouldn’t have that issue, and Bon Bon was a great cook. “I’ll be there.”

“Great! You can come too, Discord, if you send me back.” No doubt Lyra was going to hear it from Bon Bon when she found out about one of the additional guests.

“I’ll be sure to make an appearance. Toodles.” He threw a checkered sheet over Lyra, and instead of draping over her, it fell to the ground like there wasn’t a pony under it in the first place. Discord sighed. “Zero out of two. I always knew the other mes were a little off their collective rockers, but this is just annoying. Oh well, the call rates were getting a bit pricey anyway.”

“You do know any available knowledge about humans is pretty much a state secret, right?” Maybe not a state secret, but it wasn’t something I wanted to be reminded about. Helping Twilight was one thing, but I wasn’t inclined to have a casual conversation about it with Discord.

“Why would there be a state secret about fruit?”

“Never mind.”

As we started walking again, the sun and moon got their shit together and went to their appropriate positions, deciding that it was early afternoon without bickering. Being able to tell the time again was useful, but I kinda liked the way it had looked earlier.

We didn’t stop until we were just outside the Everfree. As I looked into the trees and foliage, I realized this was the closest I’d ever been to it. It didn’t make me quiver in fear, but there was something foreboding about it, like a rundown cabin in a slasher flick. Even now, I could almost hear the screams for help, the panicked running, and the cheap special effects.

Discord’s voice made me jump. “Why do you think I wished to speak with you?”

“I don’t know. I figured you would have gotten info from Celestia and Luna.”

He scoffed and gestured in Canterlot’s direction. “Those two? Share with me? I may not have been a model citizen, but I have just as much a say in the dealings of this world as they do.”

“Not just Equestria?”

“I may have said a little too much.” He hadn’t even tried to sound like he did it on accident.

“Discord, if I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you do and say precisely what you mean to.”

“You can’t trust what you read on the internet, Sterling. Nor can you trust published material or anybody other than yourself. Even then, there’s no guarantee.”

I wanted eccentric Discord back. This one turned that unnerving feeling up to eleven, and he was still holding it back to be nice. It felt like he’d shatter my mind as soon as he grew tired of me.

I gulped, taking a step back and trying to keep my legs convinced that we didn’t need to book it. “That sounds more than a little paranoid.”

Discord chuckled, and it almost sounded… sad? “No paranoia, just experience.”

The feeling almost entirely dropped off, wreaking havoc with my instincts. Most of them screamed to get out of there as fast as I could carry myself, some wanted me to give him a reassuring pat—or a hug if I was feeling generous—and one even suggested that I go find out what Poison Joke would do to me.

Surprising myself a bit, I went with the hug, though I filed away the Poison Joke curiosity for a later date. I was going to blame being a pony, but that only made me remember Dave getting frustrated and telling me to stop using it as an excuse. I pushed down the knot in my throat and said, “Sorry I brought it up.”

His eyebrow hit a cloud before it was done raising, and he gently pushed me away. “You need to take fewer drugs.”

I rolled my eyes. “I should probably get back to Ponyville and reorganize the diamond dogs. If you want to talk later, you know where to find me.” Most of it was me being friendly, but a part of me just wanted another non-pony’s view of things.

Just like that, I was at the tunnel’s Ponyville entrance, trying my best not to lose my breakfast. A few ponies gave me a curious glance, or I at least thought they did. It was a little hard to tell with how much the world was spinning.

I was still swaying a bit as I set off but remained standing. Ponyville didn’t look as damaged as I thought it would. In fact, most of the damage looked like it had been caused by panicking townsfolk, which wasn’t really surprising the more I thought about it. Ponyville was the panic capital of Equestria, after all.

Fortunately, the diamond dogs had made an impact, mostly in steering the panicked ponies towards the town hall and keeping them from causing any more damage. Balsa was even on her way back from taking a pony to the hospital—he’d broken a leg jumping out a window to escape like the worst action hero ever. I told each diamond dog I found that our job was done and they could go back to doing whatever.

I must have found over half of them before Daring landed next to me, breathing heavily and sweating but sporting a huge grin. “That was a blast! I should visit Ponyville more often.”

If I’d had any doubts about Daring being a thrillseeker, they’d been banished to the moon with no chance of parole. “Glad to see you enjoyed yourself.”

“Where were you most of the time? I wasn’t really looking, but I only saw you in the beginning.”

I gestured in the general direction of the Everfree. “Discord wanted to chat. Couldn’t exactly refuse.”

“No, I guess not.”

“How were the clouds?”

She gave a short laugh. “A bit stubborn but hardly worth the effort. Now that all the fun’s over, I’m—”

The world blurred as I was plucked out of Ponyville and deposited elsewhere in less time than it would have taken to blink. My stomach apparently hadn’t recovered from the earlier nausea, and I immediately vomited into the grass I found myself standing in.

I wiped my mouth with a fetlock, refusing to take my eyes off the ground until the world stopped looking like it was trying to shake me off. “Why is Twilight the only one who can teleport others without making them feel like they just got off a rocket-powered carousel?”

“What’d you do to her?” Dash asked. I couldn’t see her, but chances were that she was hovering in front of somebody’s face.

“Don’t give me those looks. I didn’t make her sick on purpose,” Discord said. “I didn’t rough her up either.”

I didn’t notice any approaching figures until two sets of hooves appeared at the edge of my vision.

“There, there,” Fluttershy said as either her or Twilight rubbed my back.

“How are you feeling, Sterling?” Twilight asked. Hearing her meant much more to me—both sounded genuine in their concern, but she considered me a friend and not just a sick pony to take care of.

“Just a little dizzy. I’ll be fine shortly.”

“The painkiller the doctor most likely prescribed lists dizziness as a side effect,” Fluttershy said. “You should really get these cuts cleaned up, especially this one on your side.”

“It just stings a little, and I was going to patch myself up later. Alright, I think I’m good now.” The world still moved a bit more than it was supposed to, but I could handle it.

“Are you sure? You should really get that taken care of as soon as possible.”

“It will be soon, but Discord brought me here for a reason—why are you in a maid’s outfit, Discord?” A lot of his jokes had punchlines, even if they didn’t make sense. This was just weird.

“Why are you?” he replied with a smirk.

The outfit was light, but its weight was still noticeable. “I wear it better.”

The clothing disappeared as Discord guffawed. It was hard to tell if Pinkie or he was laughing harder, though bubbles didn’t spray out of Pinkie’s mouth.

“Silliness aside, why were these vines here now?” Applejack’s voice sounded like she hadn’t found any of it amusing, but her mouth still possessed the last vestiges of a smile.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Discord said, tapping his claws against his mouth. “Those seeds I planted should have sprouted ages ago.”

“What did you just say?” Twilight shouted, energy beginning to gather around her horn.

He actually looked worried for a moment. “Now, now. There’s no need to be so hasty. I could tell you, or I could show you.” He held out a bottle to Twilight, who quickly took a drink despite being ready to tear Discord apart on a subatomic level.

I frowned and jabbed a hoof at Discord. “You dick, I thought you weren’t a bad guy anymore.”

He chuckled. “I am not a crook.”

I nodded towards Twilight, whose eyes glowed with magic as she stared into the distance. “Is she looking into the past or something?”

“An interesting item for a zebra to possess, is it not?” The bottle had looked zebra-ish, now that he’d pointed it out. I hadn’t visited Zecora since she’d been at Twilight’s, and maybe it was time to change that.

Twilight came back to reality before I could push further. She looked torn between using the Royal Canterlot Voice with a magic boost and sparing her friends’ hearing. “We could have used this information earlier, Discord.”

“But then you would have missed the moral of the story,” Discord replied as if it was obvious enough that he was wondering why Twilight wasn’t wearing a dunce cap.

I cut in before the argument could gather too much steam. “Why am I here? I’m not really necessary for any of this.”

“I mentioned your weed-pulling efforts and figured you’d want to be present. Also, you amuse me.”

“Very few things don’t.” Internally, I was wondering what kind of amusing Discord meant. Was it for comedy or to see what kind of trouble found me?

“Too true.”

Pinkie appeared next to me as we started walking, and the smell of frosting was just enough of a warning to stop me from yelping. “How’d they do?” she asked.

“Better than expected.” I wanted to find a way to keep her from surprising me, but even if I could convince her to tie a bell around her neck, she’d still be sneakier than Sam Fisher with a Stealth Boy.

“Great! I’ll have to bring them a little something tomorrow. Are you coming to Canterlot for the Summer Sun Celebration?”

“Can’t. Have to make sure the Ponyville tunnel’s repairs go smoothly. Those vines tore up the track.” It also didn’t help that I was exhausted and starting to ache.

“Aww, are you sure? It’d probably mean a lot to Twilight.” There were quite a few who thought Rarity was the group’s master of manipulation, but Pinkie was willing to fight dirty.

Glancing over to where the others were chatting with each other and frowning at Discord, I saw that Twilight’s ears were turned in our direction and she was failing at not looking hopeful. The rest of the Mane Six would be there, and I didn’t want to compete with Spike to see who could make a better seventh wheel, but then again, there hadn’t been a chance to visit Donut Joe’s last time I’d been in Canterlot. It was between making Twilight happy and getting donuts or not being awkward and getting sleep.

I sighed. “Alright, I’ll go, but I need to drop this stuff off, get cleaned up, and check in with the pack.” Dressing up didn’t sound worth it, but I could at least wash out the blood and dirt as well as bandage the worst injuries. “Hey, Discord, could I get one last teleport home please?”

“Only if I get a horsey ride later.” His request was accompanied by snickers from Dash and a blush from Rarity, who apparently needed to get her mind out of the gutter.

“Sure, whatever.”

I’d braced for the dizziness but still lost my balance and stumbled into the front door. “I’m still blaming that on you, Discord.”

It didn’t take near as long to recover, and I was soon shaking off my saddlebags and toolbelt, wincing as they came in contact with the cuts. They’d get cleaned soon, but I wanted a few minutes to wind down. Even if we were leaving for Canterlot soon, the shortcut back had earned enough extra time for me to take a small break.

“I know this wasn’t here when I left.” My coffee table had seen a few oddities, and the lime-green mailbox modelled after a barn was definitely the gaudiest. Hopefully, the note taped to the front would explain why the SkyMall reject was there.

Here’s a little “thank you” for keeping an old man company. —D

“Well, that should have been obvious.” I couldn’t help but think he had some sort of ulterior motive sending this to me. Whatever it was, it’d probably be beyond my comprehension on a good day, though that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

The little barn dinged. “You’ve got mail!”

“Dammit, Discord.” I chuckled, opening the mailbox, though my amusement quickly turned to a groan.

A black-and-white maid’s outfit lay inside.

Author's Notes:

A month and a half? Sorry about the wait. I'm not losing interest—it's just been a slow month for writing. If that's an unacceptable excuse, pretend this chapter got lost in the mail on its way to FiMFiction.net HQ out in the Galapagos.

Having a chapter take place at the same time as an episode is a bit tricky. Most of the time, it's just not worth it and feels like lazy writing, but in situations like this, it's something that's too major not to be mentioned. That said, I will not be explaining how much of Season 4 will get mentioned—you'll just have to keep reading if you want to find out what happens. You know, like most stories.

Welp, I'm off to start the next chapter.

Eventual Awards

“I still say you should let me try to open it.” Finding six keys was too much effort when I could have probably torn that box open with a little bit of applied science—three weeks had passed without any progress on unlocking it. Also, I really wanted to see what was in the box, even if it was probably just another MacGuffin.

“And I still say that even if you could open it, the contents might be damaged by your methods.”

“Maybe I could pick the lock?” I asked, poking the box with a hoof.

Encased in Twilight’s magic, the box floated away. It was good to see she wasn’t sending miscellaneous stuff into orbit anymore. “Have you ever picked a lock before?”

“Loads of times, but I usually had a crowbar.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I still got past the lock, didn’t I?”

Twilight rolled her eyes and went back to going over her checklist, mumbling to herself as she checked off each item.

“Spike, how much longer is she going to be?” I didn’t bother whispering—Twilight was back in the zone and wouldn’t notice anything quieter than an air-raid siren attached to a megaphone.

“She’s almost done with the second ‘check the checklist,’ so just one more and we can get going. Want to hit up Donut Joe’s again while we’re there?”

“As if you even needed to ask.” It’d been years since I’d eaten a fresh-from-the-fryer donut, so they’d practically needed to drag me out of the donut place after we’d stopped by after the Summer Sun Celebration.

“Got everything you need?”

“Yep.”

Spike looked at me expectantly for a few moments before sighing. “Sometimes I almost forget what it’s like to not need a single checklist, let alone three.”

“Not like I needed to bring much: thaumite, paper, writing stuff, leg, and dress.” I’d found out that not only is Rarity the best dressmaker in Ponyville, she’s also the only dressmaker in Ponyville. Of course I’d paid for it—she runs a business, not a charity.

Twilight darted into the kitchen. If I remembered correctly, “Make sure the sink isn’t running and the stove isn’t on fire.” was about a third of the way through her list.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you wore a dress.”

“What, I’m not allowed to look pretty?” Granted, I’d blanched when I’d noticed the award ceremony called for formal attire, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, it was more fun to mess with Spike than wonder if I should have been worrying about my masculinity.

“I might have fallen for that if this was the first time we’ve met.”

Damn. “Fair enough.”

“What’s it look like anyway?”

I looked back at where the bundle lay in my saddlebags. “It’s… green? You’ll see it after I get changed anyway.” I was not an art student.

When it came to clothing, there was no way I could go through the night without an awkward conversation. If I wore a suit, at least three—I was unsure if Cadence had been informed of my situation—princesses would likely think I was uncomfortable as a mare. I may not have been running around, proclaiming my femininity to the heavens, but a suit would have drawn more attention than I wanted, and my leg was enough of a conversation starter.

Since I would be wearing a dress, the princesses would show a slightly different—but still annoying—kind of concern. As soon as they could catch me in private, I’d receive awkward praise for “adapting so well.” The only upside was that everybody else wouldn’t be giving me more than attention than required.

Also when I’d asked, Rarity said that I wouldn’t be able to pull off a suit with my body type. I’d taken her word for it—I was barely out of the “all ponies look alike” mindset. Normally, I wouldn’t have cared what she’d said, but she made a valid point, and her needles had many more.

I was probably overthinking things, but between standing around waiting for Rarity to finish fitting the dress and standing around waiting for Twilight to finish being neurotic, there was a lot of time for my thoughts to travel out of explored territory without a map, compass, or GPS. The look Twilight had given me when I’d walked in didn’t ease things either.

Twilight ran upstairs to make sure the windows were locked, no faucets were running, and whatever else she did up there that I didn’t bother paying attention to—I was her friend and confidant, not her mother or stalker.

“Where did you get your mane done?”

Even though I’d never really done anything with my mane, I couldn’t find much to dislike about the bun. Hair getting in my face had always been one of my greatest—and only—pet peeves, and it wasn’t like a mane was made of something other than hair. Even if I could learn how to do it myself, the bun was too much effort to wear everyday. However, it would probably be my first choice whenever I had to go without my goggles.

My goggles had always done a great job of keeping everything clear of my face, but wearing them wasn’t an option at the ceremony—they’d still be coming with, but they’d be inside my bags instead of on my head. If I wasn’t so worried about screwing things up for the pack, I would have probably ignored the dress code and wore them anyway.

“No idea. I’m pretty sure Rarity drugged me or hired somebody to knock me out.” My muzzle scrunched as another idea came to mind. “Or the CMC did it on accident, and Rarity took advantage of the situation.”

It was also possible that I’d just zoned out as soon as Rarity had started going on about clear winters, though I didn’t know why she’d care when it was several months off. At any rate, there was a hole in my memory that ended with me getting poked with a needle and Rarity saying, “Stop fidgeting.”

“Rarity wouldn’t do that!” Spike looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or angered.

“Is that your crush speaking, or do you honestly believe she won’t get carried away for whatever she considers fashion?”

“What? Who told you?” If Spike were a bit taller, his indignant posture would have been about as scary as a loaf of bread. Without that extra height, it was like being threatened by a kitten wearing booties, though kittens didn’t breathe fire very often. “I bet it was Twilight.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t Twilight. You’re just obvious.”

“Am not!”

“Don’t you have a shirt somewhere around here with you and Rarity in front of a giant heart?”

Spike chuckled nervously. “So… how are the diamond dogs doing?”

“They’ve been busy cleaning up the place to prepare for building better homes. You should come by and check it out some time. I’m sure they’d love to learn more of your recipes, ‘Master Gem Chef’.” We’d purchased a stock of baking supplies as soon as they’d learned the recipe, and all of it was gone in six hours. I couldn’t blame them though, it was like discovering meat could be cooke—and I made myself sick again.

“Hey, you’d enjoy it if you could eat gems.”

“What? No, I was thinking about something else.”

“Are you two ready to go?” Twilight asked as she teleported to us, making sure her saddlebags were tightened just enough.

“Been waiting on you,” I said, and Spike nodded in agreement.

“There was a lot of stuff that I needed to make sure was taken care of. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time before the ceremony.”

Yeah, because I was worried about being late. “Where are we meeting the others?”

“Others?”

“The rest of your friends. Why wouldn’t they be coming?”

“As an awards ceremony involving a diplomat, only military or government officials and royalty are allowed to attend. It’s a semi-obscure law that resulted from—”

Oh no, I wasn’t going to let her get occupied again. Not when we were so close to leaving. “I’m not a d—crap, I totally am. But aren’t the Element Bearers considered some sort of nobility?”

“Nope, as far as the government is concerned, we’re still civilians. Except for me, for obvious reasons. I do wish they could come though.”

“What about Pinkie?”

“What about me?”

It was a good thing I’d developed the habit of bracing myself anytime her name was mentioned. Spike and Twilight still jumped, and the latter’s horn sparked for the briefest of moments.

“Pinkie, don’t surprise me like that!” Twilight looked scared, though I doubted it was Pinkie she feared.

“Sorry, Twilight!” It sounded earnest, even with the grin on her face.

“How long have you been here?”

“Oh, I was here all along, just waiting to be mentioned. I’m not sure why though…” She rubbed her muzzle in thought.

“I’m your second-in-command, remember?” A familiar chill went down my spine, like it did every time I realized Pinkie was my boss. “If I’m considered a diplomat, so are you.”

Twilight gasped. “I can’t believe I forgot! I’m sorry, Pinkie.”

“I forgive you. I don’t remember it most of the time either.” Considering she was in the caves nearly every day, that was somewhat odd.

“You’ll need something to wear. It’s mandatory.” I couldn’t help but frown. Wearing clothing over fur felt weird, warm, and redundant.

“Way ahead of you.” Pinkie pulled up a loose floorboard and produced a coral-colored dress with turquoise highlights.

Twilight blinked once, rebooted her brain, and turned back to me. “Is there anything else stopping us from leaving?”

“Why is Spike coming? Don’t give me that look, Spike. I really don’t care if you come with, but you’re not wearing or carrying clothes.” Lucky bastard.

“Any dragon in good standing with the Princesses is treated as nobility as far as permissions are concerned. And before you ask, Sterling, properly cleaned scales count as formal attire for dragons. Anything else?” That explained why Spike was gleaming slightly more than usual.

“Unless Dash is secretly a baron, no.” I’d still have to ask next time I saw her. Everything I knew about her could be summed up as a blue pegasus yelling “Do it faster!” while breaking the sound barrier and anything else she crashed into, like Nascar with fighter jets. Nasjet?

“Alright. I’ll still be able to teleport all four of us there easily enough.”

“Can’t we just take the train? They shouldn’t be done running for the night yet.” Teleporting was quicker, but the train didn’t make me feel like I’d fallen into a washing machine for the spin cycle.

“After what happened last time, they’re not going to let you on the train if you have any thaumite. You’d probably be lucky if they let you in the station at all.”

“I don’t even know how it happened.”

“But it still happened, and I’m surprised they let you off with a fine.”

It was a shame I hadn’t been paying enough attention to remember what pattern I’d twisted the thaumite into, because I could have thought of quite a few applications for neutralizing gravity. The area hadn’t been large enough to affect more than a little bit of the train car, but they’d refused to listen when I’d told them the train wasn’t going to lift off the tracks.

“That wasn’t a fine, it was robbery. Fifty bits would have been enough to cover the ‘damages,’ and you know it. Emotional distress my ass. Besides, it wasn’t my fault that stewardess freaked out and lost control of the snack cart.”

Pinkie drooled a little. “I liked that part the most.” She’d devoured half the floating food before the magic had worn off.

Twilight sighed and glanced out the window. “Just don’t make a mess while we’re there. It was difficult enough convincing Shining Armor to discuss shield spells with you.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Even though I needed to shield against the cold instead of a changeling invasion, I figured Shining would be the pony to see.

“We could walk there. I’m sure that’d be loads of fun,” Pinkie said with a shrug.

“Pinkie, the ceremony is in a couple hours. We’d never make it in time.”

“We would if we used a montage.”

“I like this plan.” I couldn’t recall ever being in a montage.

Spike nodded. “Me too.”

“We’re not using a montage. Now, is everypony ready?” Twilight didn’t wait for a reply before continuing, “Yes? Good, let’s go.”

Before I could protest, I found myself somewhere in Canterlot Castle, slipping on tiles far smoother than the wooden boards in the library. Less than a second later, my leg shot out from under me as the world turned just enough to toss my balance off a building.

“Were these just waxed?” I asked from my spot on the ground, thankful that the dizziness was fading quickly. Even though teleporting still made me sick, I was glad Twilight could minimize the effect. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the edge of a red carpet, which everybody else stood on. “Really, Twilight? I know your aim is better than that.”

“You should have been standing closer.”

“You didn’t give me much warning!”

One of the two guards by the only exit cleared his throat.

“See? He agrees with me.” I knew what the guard meant, even if he hadn’t used words.

“State your name and business.”

It was a little difficult standing up, but I made it to the carpet without falling again. “I can understand how you wouldn’t know who I am, but these three are a bit more distinctive.”

“Protocol, ma’am.”

“Sterling, let the guard do his job.” Twilight stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Princess Twilight Sparkle. I’m here to attend the awards ceremony for Sterling Gears.”

“Ooh, me next!” Pinkie raised her hoof and waved it to get the guard’s attention. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, Element of Laughter, Alpha of the Gem Hills Pack, Planner of Parties, Party Avatar, The Queen in Pink, daughter of—”

Twilight stuffed her hoof in Pinkie’s mouth. “She’s here for the same thing. Sterling, your turn.”

“Sterling Gears, Beta of the Gem Hills Pack.” I didn’t bother restraining my pride at all. “And I’m also here for the same thing.”

“I’m Spike. A dragon doesn’t need titles.” When he didn’t say anything else, Twilight rolled her eyes and nudged him. “Oh, right. Same thing as them.”

“All four of you are on the list of expected guests. Please line up and wait to be scanned. Thank you for your patience.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Wait! There should be a note saying I’m exempt from thaumic analysis.”

“That has been taken into account, ma’am.”

As Twilight sighed with relief, I made a mental note to ask her about the issue with thaumic analysis. Even though it was probably about her magic levels, I wanted specifics and didn’t know anything about how the scan worked.

“Welcome to Canterlot, Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief as the guard moved on to Spike, then Pinkie.

“Hey, that tickles!”

The guard raised a brow at Pinkie’s outburst, and I realized that was the most emotion I’d seen out of him yet. He must have been new.

Whatever Pinkie felt when she had been scanned didn’t happen again as the guard used his spell on me. A wave of anxiety washed over me, reminding me of every time I’d walked through a metal detector.

Private Brow’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Ma’am, would you please step aside and remove your saddlebags?”

“Gears, use a smoke bomb.”

“Pinkie, shush,” Twilight whispered.

Would a rubber glove for a pony just be a tube that’s closed at one end? Would it still be a glove, or was it considered a rubber sock when it was worn by a quadruped? Were they at least going to use lu—

“Ma’am, step to the side and remove your saddlebags. I will not ask again.”

The guard standing near the exit had tensed as well, and his hoof gripped his spear tighter.

I slowly followed his directions, wondering what the big deal was. Nothing I had could be considered contraband, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t a changeling. Now that would have been an interesting surprise.

My tail pressed against me, almost making me jump. Now that was a reflex I couldn’t remember experiencing before, unless I was only noticing it because the day’s events had reminded me that some of my body was still foreign. Ignoring it had worked well for the most part, but it wasn’t a perfect barrier.

I’d need to find a book on body language so I could prevent any more surprises like that. The ear movement had taken some getting used to when I’d first arrived, and so had rearing when that vine had surprised me a few weeks earlier, but my tail doing anything other than threatening to get caught in doors was entirely new to me.

The guard carefully removed the roll of thaumite. “Ma’am, please explain why you’re carrying more than the allowed amount of a restricted material.”

All the fuss was over my thaumite? “Restricted material? Since when?” I risked a glance at Twilight, who looked like she was waiting for a chance to speak. Hopefully, it would be to bail me out of this mess. “Twilight, mind helping me out here?”

“I didn’t expect you to bring so much!”

“Really?” Pinkie, Spike, and I asked simultaneously.

“Well, no. At least, not without requesting a permit after hearing the law go into effect.”

And just when I was starting to think I could go through a whole day without facehoofing. “Twilight, when would I have heard about it? How much am I allowed to carry without a permit?” The law as I knew it was just various rewordings of “don’t be a malicious asshole unless you know a loophole.”

“The amount allowed without a permit is ten centimeters, ma’am. You have at least a hundred times that amount.”

“I can’t do anything with ten centimeters of thaumite.”

“That’s the point, ma’am.”

“Whatever, I’m not going to waste more time arguing about this. Twilight, can you vouch for me or contact someone who can?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Celestia strode into the room, wearing an amused smile. I got the feeling I’d just helped her win a bet.

“Excellent timing, Princess Celestia!”

“Thank you, Pinkie Pie.” Celestia glided across the room, taking control of the thaumite and placing it back into my saddlebags. “At ease. This is nothing but a simple miscommunication, and I trust Sterling Gears to use this thaumite responsibly. My sister and I made sure to send her the appropriate paperwork, but it must have been delayed in the mail.”

Private Brow nodded and returned to his spot at the door, settling into the usual stance. If it weren’t for their armor and eyes, they could have had a run in with a cockatrice and we would have been none the wiser.

Considering my mailbox near-instantaneously summoned any mail addressed to me—because Discord—a delay was unlikely. Either Celestia was BSing the guard or Discord was having a little bit of fun. Honestly, I wasn’t sure which option was more realistic.

“Thanks, Celestia.”

“Sterling, you’re here for an official ceremony. You need to use the appropriate title.” Twilight had been doing much better when it came to not bombarding Celestia with “Princess” every time they saw one another, so she might have had a valid point. However, Twilight had a knack for thinking obscure etiquette or laws were still relevant.

“I’m afraid she’s correct. Come, I’ll show all of you where you’ll be staying tonight. Once you’ve finished preparing, it should be just about time for the ceremony to start.” As she stepped into the hallway, a different pair of guards fell into position behind us.

As much as I wanted to ignore the rule and address Celestia as I wished, I wasn’t here just for myself. Pinkie and I had to act with the best intentions for our packmates, which left very little wiggle room. I would play by the rules but assume everybody I hadn’t already met was trying to take advantage of my inexperience.

With all the effort I’d put into adjusting to the prosthetic, she didn’t need to slow below an average walking speed for me to keep up. If there was one thing I wished I’d remembered though, it was to add some sort of padding to the bottom—the sound it made when striking the tiles was an obnoxious addition to the otherwise pleasing rhythm. It was like an orchestra where someone tripped over a trash can every four beats.

“I must admit I am unaware of the proper way to address diamond dog dignitaries,” Celestia said.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie said.

“Neither do I. They just call me ‘Beta,’ and they’re just as likely to call Pinkie ‘Boss’ as ‘Alpha.’ I think those might just apply to actual pack members though, since they gave weird looks to the couple ponies that have addressed me as ‘Beta Sterling Gears.’ To be honest, I don’t like the way that sounds either. Twilight, you’ve picked Spot’s brain—was there anything about this in there?”

Twilight shook her head just enough to be noticeable. “Nothing about it ever came up, but there’s a possibility there is nothing in place regarding foreign relations.”

“Does there have to be something? I’d rather be known by my actions than position.”

“It would be best if there was some title available to introduce you during the ceremony. Unfortunately, bestowing titles based on heroics has fallen out of favor.”

“Well, bring them back. They’re awesome.” I sighed. “If you absolutely need something, just add ‘Beta of the Gem Hills Pack’ to my name.” When one of my packmates called me ‘Beta,’ it was a term of respect, but here it only served to remind others that I held a position somewhere they couldn’t care less about.

“That will do nicely for an announcement, but what about an honorific?”

I should have already thought of that. “Beta of the Gem Hills Pack” was too lengthy for normal conversation. With a sigh, I said, “Looks like we’re stuck with ‘Beta’ and ‘Alpha’.” It would have to be explained to the pack, and I personally didn’t like having one, but it was a necessary evil.

“I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable, but this social setting has its own set of rules.”

“That doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

Celestia pursed her lips. “No, it does not.”

“Princess Celestia, there’s something very important I must ask of you,” Pinkie said with the most serious expression I’d seen in weeks—she hadn’t taken it too well when Bon Bon had said she was out of peanut brittle. “Will there be cake?”

“Of course.”

Small talk accompanied what little remained of the walk. The room we’d teleported into was surprisingly close to the guest quarters. I’d figured we’d have to walk through half of the castle, be forced to take a detour because of construction, and end up donning our dresses in a broom closet to have enough time to make it to the ceremony.

Pinkie’s room was adjacent to mine, and Twilight was planning on using her old quarters. With the large amount of rules covering every little thing, I was surprised that she was still able to sleep where she wanted.

“I wish I could converse further, but there is some business I must attend to. When it is time, an attendant will escort you to the ceremony. Farewell.” Celestia’s two guards departed with her, leaving just the three of us in the hallway.

“Looks like she can’t wait for the formalities to be over either.”

“I could liven things up a bit, but that didn’t go so well last time I tried it.” Pinkie’s smiled widened as she continued, “But I brought the party cannon just in case it gets really boring in there.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at Twilight’s look of horror. “Who knows, Twilight? She might get distracted by political intrigue.”

“It’s true. I’m amazing at getting distracted.”

“And if that doesn’t work, Spike could always light something on fire.”

“No way! I’d get in so much trouble.” He noticed Twilight’s expectant look and added, “Also, it would be wrong."

Pinkie patted Twilight’s back. “Don’t worry, Twilight. It’s a safe bet that I’ll get distracted.”

Twilight laughed nervously. “I guess it could happen. Hopefully.” She glanced around the hall, frowning when she couldn’t find whatever she was looking for. “We probably don’t have too much time left. I’m going to freshen up at my old room quick.”

“You could probably save some time if you used one of our bathrooms. I mean, I’m just going to throw the dress on and make sure it’s not inside out. Or backwards.”

“And I’m already wearing my outfit.”

“Pinkie, don’t break Twilight.”

“Sorry, though she would have noticed if she hadn’t been worrying about me starting a war.” Pinkie scoffed. “Maybe a scandal, sure, but I’d actually have to try if I wanted a war.”

Twilight sighed. “I’ll be back shortly.” She lit her horn and vanished.

“Too much?” Pinkie asked.

“Nah, she’s just incapable of coming to Canterlot without getting stressed at least once. It would have been much worse if you’d said ‘international crisis’ instead of ‘scandal’,” Spike said.

“I like that word. Crisis. Crisis. Crises.”

“Have fun, you two. I’m going to go get changed.”

“See you later, Gears. Spike, let’s go find the kitchens and see if we can get some sn—”

The thick, polished door closed behind me with little sound of its own. Something about the four-poster bed and red color scheme felt familiar, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Fortunately, the lamps were unshuttered, and I wouldn’t need to make a mad dash to turn the lights on.

I set my saddlebags on the bed and removed the carefully folded dress, thankful that I’d spent the extra bits for crease-resistant cloth—maybe it was a spell she’d used on the cloth afterwards that had made it crease-resistant. Either way, it was one less thing I had to care about.

It wouldn’t be too hard to figure out. Most pony dresses were just glorified capes anyway, and mine was no different. The cloth slightly shimmered in the light—it wasn’t enough to make me look like I had an addiction to glitter glue, but it did make the color a bit more vivid. The color reminded me of some of the emeralds I’d seen the pack dig up. Rarity might have had a reputation for grandiose clothing, but I was glad she understood the merits of simplicity.

“There, all set. Wait, that’s not right.” My first attempt had left the dress upside down.

Attempt number two left the dress on backwards. “Nope, still not right.”

The third attempt ended with me wearing a bedsheet. “How did this even happen?”

I could program the timer on a VCR, but donning that piece of clothing was proving to be more complicated than I could have dreamed—it was like trying to program a Tamagotchi to beat Deep Blue in chess. Even though I was careful not to cause any damage to the dress, I was still a bit more forceful than I should have been while trying to get it to obey.

“You will not get the best of m—”

A panicked Twilight Sparkle blinked into the room, the teleport’s flash as blinding as a disposable camera’s. “Gears, I heard shouting, are you alright?” Her panic turned to confusion in moments. “Were you about to punch your dress?”

“I didn’t start this fight.”

She sighed. “It’s an inanimate object. Unless there’s a spell pattern you haven’t told me about, I sincerely doubt it picked a fight with you.”

I would have to see if I could actually make such a spell pattern. “So, how did you hear me from wherever your room is?”

“I was actually in the hallway. I’d finished getting dressed and—”

“Wait, you’re done?” I could only see a tiara, a torc, and some slipper-shoe dealies that looked like they would need adhesive to stay on. “If you can get away with that, I don’t see why I have to wear anything larger than a hat.”

Twilight frowned, though she was still in a good enough mood to roll her eyes. “Sterling, this is the traditional regalia for Equestrian royalty.”

“So it’s your trainee-princess regalia?”

“If you must call it that, yes. Personally, I’d rather wear a dress. This jewelry makes me feel like I’m just playing dress-up.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ever since that one night where she’d shown up on my doorstep, we’d been meeting at least once a week to talk. It didn’t feel like we were getting very far, but at least Twilight hadn’t had trouble sleeping in weeks.

“Later tonight, but for now, you have to finish getting ready. Sorry for barging in.”

“Don’t worry about it. I probably shouldn’t be beating my clothing anyway, even if it is a complete pain in the ass to put on.”

“Do you want help?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not a child—foal, whatever, you know what I mean—who can’t dress themselves without the aid of an adult. I’m not helpless.”

“I never said you were.”

“Sorry, it just gets frustrating. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, but I guess that dress is just evil or something.”

She giggled. “Evil or not, you have to put it on.”

“Fine. Twilight, will you help me?” The H-word always left a bad taste in my mouth when I was the one asking for it.

“I’d be glad to. Where’s the brooch?”

“The clasp thingie, right? It’s over here.”

With Twilight’s aid, I had the dress on in ten seconds flat. It felt so demeaning to need help for something so simple.

Finished, she stepped back and looked me over. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, I’m just glad it’s not made of frills.”

“Rarity doesn’t make all her dresses like that. In fact, she made me a dress for my birthday a couple years ago.”

“I remember that. It was in an episode.”

She chuckled and lightly shook her head. “I’m still not used to that. How are you holding up?”

“I have no business bumping elbows with a bunch of hoity-toity nobles and officials, wearing something over fur after is more awkward than I could have imagined, and I can’t stop wondering how much of a fuss anybody that knows my secret is going to make when they see me in a dress.”

“Why would—oh, right. You know, that doesn’t cross my mind at all when somepony mentions your name. I know the only thing you truly hated about it was the attention, and it wouldn’t have been very friendly of me to keep picking at it.” Twilight’s smile was slight but genuine. “I’ll admit I was surprised when you showed up with a dress, but that was only because I expected more of a fight getting you to wear any formal outfit.”

Well, that was a breath of fresh air. Even if she couldn’t speak for the other princesses, I wasn’t feeling anywhere near as anxious. “Thanks, Twilight. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course. I’m glad I could—” A sharp knock on the door cut off whatever Twilight was going to say.

“Beta Sterling Gears?” The voice was muffled but not difficult to understand. “It is nearly time for the awards ceremony, and I am here to escort you to the waiting room.”

“Already?” I half-shouted. If Twilight hadn’t shown up when she did, I would have still been hock-deep in combat. I was always up for a good work story, but not if it involved me screaming at inanimate objects.

“There is still some time before it begins; however, you must be present ahead of time, as you are involved in the proceedings.” His tone was flat, but he didn’t possess the gruff voice of a guard—he was probably a servant, butler, minion, or whatever the PC term was.

I sighed. “I’ll be out in a moment. Twilight, you’re part of this too, right?”

“Yes, but my only role is to stand with Celestia, Luna, and Cadence. I’m not supposed to do anything else.”

The pony outside the door could wait a bit longer. “I thought that sort of thing made you uncomfortable.”

Twilight stamped her hoof. “Not when it’s something so important to me! Part of the reason we’re here tonight is that you risked your life to save mine, which ultimately resulted in the loss of your leg. Even if you feel that there wasn’t a choice in the matter, it doesn’t change what you did.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t want to stand around like a decoration. Not when I should be the one thanking you and extolling your deeds in front of dozens of dignitaries. Standing on the sidelines just feels like an insult.”

I draped a foreleg over her withers. “If it helps, I don’t feel insulted. Have you tried asking Celestia if you could have a bigger role?”

“No, but that’s not how the ceremony is supposed to go.”

“I’m sure she’d understand. Worst she will do is say ‘no,’ and I sincerely doubt she would.” In fact, she’d probably be thrilled that Twilight stepped up.

“I’ll ask her when we get there.” Twilight sighed. “We should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

“And you’ll actually ask Celestia? Don’t give me that look, we’re not in a formal setting yet.”

“Yes, Gears, I’ll ask.” Her smile changed into a smirk. “You know, we don’t have to walk there. I know where we’re going and can just teleport us.”

“That’s alright, I could use the exercise, and with how much you teleport instead of just walking, so could you.” Not to mention that lately, she’d been eating like she was trying to drive hayburgers to extinction. It was probably a princess thing—I’d seen Celestia slay a cake for twenty with nothing more than a dessert fork, and it was the most graceful massacre I’d ever seen.

“Are you saying I’m fat?” If she’d actually sounded offended, I might have felt bad.

It was my turn to smirk. “No, I’m implying it.”

The pony who had knocked was dressed in a simple uniform, and he was patiently waiting on the opposite side of the hall. Between the lack of frantic scrambling, his completely passive expression, and the air of professionalism that said, “I’ve been working here for fifteen years, and I don’t want to get fired for something as pointless as eavesdropping on VIPs,” I figured he’d backed away from the door as soon as Twilight and I had started talking.

He bowed his head to each of us in turn. “Princess Twilight Sparkle. Beta Sterling Gears.” It probably sounded better to those who had no chance of associating “Beta” with testing, but I didn’t have that luxury. Then again, Equestria and I were in a love-hate relationship, so who knew what “Beta” meant to them? “May I show you to the ceremony?”

We nodded and followed him down the hall. Twilight and I remained silent while we walked, though it was mostly out of courtesy for our escort. A few of the hallways looked familiar but not enough to keep me from losing my sense of direction.

I’d figured he would have led us straight to the throne room. Instead, we stopped at a door that was in sight of the throne room’s entrance but clearly separate.

“Beta Sterling Gears, this is the room you and the Alpha will be waiting in until the appropriate time. Somepony else will be by shortly to explain your roles in the ceremony in detail. Princess Twilight Sparkle, please follow me.”

“Good luck.” Twilight smiled and disappeared into the throne room.

“Hi, Gears!” Pinkie jumped up from her seat as I opened the door. “I’m no longer allowed in the castle kitchens when they’re preparing meals.”

“Um, I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Thanks! I’ll just have to sneak in once they all go to bed. I’ll make mounds of pastries, and they’ll be none the wiser.” She rubbed her forehooves together and semi-evilly chuckled.

“Why?” Normally, I wouldn’t have asked, but we had time to kill before whoever was explaining things showed up.

“Why what?”

“Why are you going to sneak into the castle kitchens to make pastries after dark?”

“I am? That sounds fun!”

Two sharp knocks rang through the room, and the knob turned. I shuddered as it reminded me of a doctor showing up once a nurse had taken your vitals. Fortunately, the visitor didn’t open with “What seems to be the problem today?”

“You both look lovely this evening. It is good to see the two of you again,” Luna said with a genuine smile. As she shut the door, I caught a glimpse a batpony—thestral? Nocturne? Now that the thought was stuck in my head, it would bother me until I asked—guard taking his position outside the door.

Pinkie waved. “Hi, Princess!”

“I could say the same about you, Luna. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk after the Summer Sun Celebration.” With my dreams back to chaotic messes I couldn’t remember, this was the first I’d been able to speak to Luna in at least a month.

She nodded to disguise a flinch I barely noticed. “My apologies. The Summer Sun Celebration keeps Celestia and I busy long after the moon is lowered and the sun is raised. However, I did see you in the crowd, waving with reckless abandon.”

I’d done lots of things with reckless abandon, and waving had been easier than most. “Don’t worry about it. I figured that was the case.”

“So, why are you here, Princess Luna? I mean, it’s not an issue seeing as the castle is partly yours. Is there a map somewhere of which parts are yours? I’m sorry in advance if the kitchens are yours, but I really, really, really need to bake something tonight so I don’t get rusty, because I want to keep my job at Sugarcube Corner—nopony likes it if you use rusty utensils to prepare their food, and rusty ponies are probably in the same boat. Now there’s an idea. I think there wouldn’t be much competition if I went into the floating bakery business. Even pirates could use a cupcake now and then.”

I poked Pinkie and gave her the “you’re doing it again” look. However, the idea of Luna and Celestia owning separate parts of the castle amused me, especially if they drew a line straight down the middle of the throne room to divide everything.

“Sorry, it’s just that I’m supposed to be so fancy and reserved and boringly quiet tonight that all the words just get backed up and spill out whenever they get the chance. It’s like a dam with floodgates that get stuck all the time, probably because they’re rusty. What’s with all these rusty things? You’d think somepony would come up with something that helps prevent it. It wouldn’t take more than forty tries, I think.”

Another poke, another look. Pinkie smiled sheepishly.

“Were you not informed that somepony would be with you shortly?” Luna asked.

“Sure, but we expected an aide, not you or Celestia.”

“I expected one of the chefs to stop by and finish yelling at me for using so much confectioner’s sugar, thank you very much.” Pinkie mock-huffed, which still sounded strange coming from her.

Luna nodded in understanding. “I see. Well, I could always go find an aide if you do not wish for my assistance…”

I laughed. It really was good seeing Luna again. “Oh shush. You know what we meant.”

Luna chuckled as she took a seat. “I suppose I did. I trust the two of you are well?”

“Yeppers!” Pinkie said as she played with a bowl of complimentary mints, which I hadn’t seen when I’d entered the room. In all honesty, she made it look really fun.

“Things have been going pretty good. We’ve been working on some quality-of-life improvements for the pack, and the caves look much better than before. Trade is going well, and we’re thinking about increasing our raw-silver exports.”

“While I am thrilled to hear the Gem Hills are thriving, I was asking about you, Sterling.”

“Nothing really worth mentioning. Progress on the shield has been slow, but that’s why I’m discussing it with Shining Armor later. Smoky Sparks hasn’t shown up yet either, but I never got an estimate on when he or she is supposed to visit.”

Luna sighed, rubbing her brow. “Unfortunately, we do not have a long time before the ceremony begins and there is still much to discuss. We can talk further at a later time, and I sincerely hope we do so tonight. There is something else I must give you.”

I’d already had meetings planned with Shining and Twilight, but it wasn’t as if Luna was going to sleep before lowering the moon. Mornings were for sleeping anyway. “Yeah, sure. What do we need to do in this ceremony anyway? I don’t have to give a speech, do I?”

“Not unless you wish to.”

I blanched. There was no way me giving a speech could end well. Heck, if I were giving a speech at a “Nobel Peace Prize” ceremony, I’d accidentally start a riot. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“In that case, there is little either of you have to do during the ceremony itself. After the ceremony however, you will be expected to mingle with other dignitaries.”

“I’m really not looking forward to that part.”

“With the positions both of you hold, it would be impossible to avoid them indefinitely. Here, you can meet them in a relatively controlled environment instead of when they knock on your door, looking for anything they can take offense to.”

“Just how many are attending the ceremony?” A feeling in my gut told me I didn’t want to know the answer, but forewarned is forearmed—I idly wondered if the saying was different for the four-legged, but transdimensional word development was an exclusive field of study.

“Around three score.”

The feeling in my gut had told the truth—the night was not going to be fun. “That’s a lot more than I was hoping.”

“I understand your discomfort. If it makes you feel better, nearly half of them are lesser nobles with enough authority to attend the ceremony but not enough to have any real power.”

“And the other half?”

“Heads of noble houses, government and military officials, and ambassadors.”

That was just… wow. Tonight was going to suck more than a Dyson in a black hole. “I would have liked a bit of training in politics before being thrown to the wolves.” Then again, I doubted much of that training would help me against wolves.

Pinkie looked up as she put the finishing touches on the house she’d built out of the mints. “We’ll be fine, Gears. Just keep your ears open, don’t promise anything, and don’t leave tape over any door latches.”

Luna nodded towards me. “My sister and I would not ask something of you if we were not sure you would succeed.”

I sighed, wondering how my life had gotten to this point. “Well, I’ve always learned better from practical experience.” The entire thing was a disaster waiting to happen, regardless of what Celestia and Luna thought I was capable of.

“Hooray, I don’t have to pull rank!” Pinkie threw her hooves into the air as she cheered, utterly demolishing her mint house. “Aww, that’s not going to be good for property values.”

Luna chuckled as she used her magic to return all the mints to their bowl. “As I said earlier, your role in the ceremony is minimal. Celestia will begin with drawing everypony’s attention by announcing the reason they have all been invited. Meanwhile, you two will be waiting outside the throne room until the appropriate time, at which point a royal guard will tell you to enter.

“When the doors open walk to the dais, making sure to keep your eyes forward at all times. Pinkamena, make sure you match Sterling’s pace, remaining slightly behind and to her right. Once you have reached the dais, Sterling, step onto it and stand halfway between the edge and my sister and I. Pinkamena, it is imperative you do not step onto the dais with her. Your place is on the right side of the carpet, just before the dais and opposite Prince Shining Armor.

“Once both of you are in position, I will step forward and bestow the award upon Sterling. After I have finished, Celestia will give another speech, which will be followed by my own. With our speeches finished, the ceremony will be brought to a close and Princess Twilight Sparkle and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza will escort both of you out of the throne room and to the banquet hall. Do you have any questions?”

“What am I supposed to do with the award? I don’t want to have to hold onto it all night, and my clumsy hooves would make it even more difficult.”

“I could always hold onto it for you, Gears. I’m never carrying much anyway.” Right, other than disguises, baked goods, and various party accessories that may or may not require a demolitions permit.

“You need not worry about such a thing. For your induction into the Order of the Ash Heart, you will receive a neck order.”

“That actually sounds kinda neat. It’s not some exclusive club membership with meetings and stuff, is it?” I’d thought I would be getting a medal—I’d never even heard of a ”neck order.”

“The Order of the Ash Heart is for civilians who have been seriously injured or slain during exemplary service to Equestria.”

I didn’t feel right accepting an award when there was somebody who deserved it far more than I did. Rising from my seat, I asked, “What about D—”

Luna held up a hoof to cut me off. “Rest assured that we did not forget him. Such a thing would be unspeakable.”

With a nod, I sat back down. I let out a sigh, wondering if I’d have time for a break before the ceremony. The night was taking to my nerves with a power sander.

“If he were still here, I’m sure he’d be proud of you, Gears… and asking for more cupcakes.” Pinkie smiled as she released me from the hug, which I hadn’t even noticed in the first place. Was it just me, or was she getting sneakier?

Luna stood up, looking as if she’d rather stay seated and chat with the two of us. “If there are no further questions about the ceremony, I must depart and take my place in it.”

“I’m good.” I was sure it was all simple enough that I could keep track of it. Wait for the cue, walk up to the princesses, and wait impatiently but quietly for it all to be over.

Pinkie nodded. “Me too.”

“Farewell, my friends. And, Sterling? Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a little while, I guess.” That is, unless some evil force invaded and she had to arrange a defense. Knowing Equestria, there was about a fifty-fifty chance that Canterlot would be attacked that night.

Pinkie spoke up as the door closed behind Luna. “So, Gears, what do you want to do while we wait for the fun to begin?”

“Did you bring any board games?”

Pinkie giggled. “What kind of silly question is that? Of course I brought board games. One of them is even about boards.”

She had barely set up all the pieces before a royal guard told us it was time to get ready. It was a shame—the board game about boards actually looked interesting enough to keep us from getting bored. Ponies were weird. Pinkie was weirder.

I fidgeted as we stood outside the double doors throne room, both of us flanked by a royal guard in polished, filigreed armor—likely the dress armor for formal occasions. Nothing from inside the throne room could be heard, not even the conversations of the dozens of officials I wanted to spend the night ignoring. Pinkie fidgeted more than I did, bouncing in place as one of the guards tracked her movement with just his eyes.

Suddenly, I heard Celestia’s voice as clear as if she were standing in front of us, and the guards’ postures straightened. “Esteemed guests, I thank all of you for your attendance tonight. We are gathered here to honor one of the heroes responsible for ending Equestria’s recent troubles.”

Wow, she was really building up my importance with the audience. Now I was really regretting the lack of time to take a break.

“With great risk to her own life, she saved one of our own from a terrible fate, but her actions were not without a dire cost. Tonight, we thank her for her sacrifice. Without further ado, I present to you our honored guest, Sterling Gears, Beta of the Gem Hills pack, and her peer, Pinkamena Diane Pie, Alpha of the Gem Hills Pack.”

Wordlessly, the guards opened the doors in synchronization and took their places on the other side as Pinkie and I began walking. Applause accompanied us, the thundering stomps of a few enthusiastic individuals drowning out the polite “I’m only doing anything because there are four princesses looking in my direction” hooffalls.

Though there were confused expressions on both sides, only the left side exchanged murmurs as I passed by. None of it sounded derisive, so that was a plus, but all the attention was making my gut feel like a motorized butter churner. Much to my surprise, I made it to and up the dais without tripping. I caught Twilight’s eye and arched an eyebrow, receiving a subtle smile and nod in return.

Luna stepped forward with one of the biggest smiles I’d ever seen on her, a case floating next to her in her magic. “Sterling Gears, it is my great honor to present to you an award befitting your actions.” A beautiful necklace with a thick band floated out of the case, which promptly vanished.

At the end of the chain dangled an ornate medal encircled with entwined bands of gold and silver. The center was a lighter material polished to a sheen, though I couldn’t identify what it was with a quick glance. I only caught a glimpse of the engraving, which was the Equestrian coat of arms with some flowers above it. I was no expert at horticulture, but bleeding hearts have a distinctive shape—also, they were pretty tasty.

“This badge signifies your position as a Knight of the Order of the Ash Heart. Wear it well.”

Wait, had Luna just called me a knight?

“Equestria thanks you, Dame Sterling Gears.”

My dislike of honorifics was promptly upgraded from “who used up the last of the milk?” to “stop trying to sell me magazine subscriptions at two in the morning.”

I dipped my head to allow Luna to slip the medal over it. The whole thing was heavier than I’d expected, and the metal felt cool against my neck. The chain wasn’t long enough for it to dangle like a medal usually did, but it wasn’t short enough to choke. To be honest, it was pretty comfortable, though I could have done without the precious metals or being knighted.

Knights were cool and all, but I still preferred to think of them as fancy medieval warriors. I was aware that knighthood had still been awarded in modern times back on Earth, but I’d always thought of it as a silly distinction in that day and age. I shouldn’t have received a fancy title just because I’d lost a leg while saving Twilight. An award, sure, I could understand and appreciate that, but knighthood was a bit much.

Luna returned to her initial position while Twilight stepped forward, beaming at me. I’d never understood why the princesses always had their wings open when they were trying to look important. Twilight was the only one without an impressive height, but her wings were still obvious enough that I couldn’t see the point of impersonating an avian mating dance. Maybe I was just grouchy over getting gobsmacked with the whole “Dame” thing.

“Friends, allies, esteemed guests, courage is something we all must strive for. It is not something you can simply test for, something to be quantified and used when the need calls for it. It is not determined by bloodline, passed down from parent to progeny.”

Was I just supposed to keep standing where I was? If I were in the audience, I’d get tired of seeing somebody’s rear end fairly quickly.

“Courage is not strength during adversity. Courage is strength despite adversity. Any of us may say that we possess it, that we are ready to accomplish what is necessary in a crisis, but when danger looms, only the courageous stand true. They do not flee. They do not give up. They do not abandon the helpless.” She wasn’t using the Royal Canterlot Voice, but there was no doubt in my mind that her voice carried clearly to every corner of the room.

“I would not be here today if it weren’t for the courage of Dame Sterling Gears. I was incapacitated during our most dire hour, yet she stood firm and ensured my safety despite the anguish caused by her wounds. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Dame Sterling Gears. I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

The room erupted into applause again, though this time, it sounded like a stampede of panicked wildebeests, a few of which whistled. I continued to stand where I was, feeling very awkward about all the attention. Still, I was proud of Twilight for actually following through with a speech, and she got bonus points for doing it without notecards.

During the applause, Twilight went back to her spot, and Luna stepped forward again. Instead of asking for silence, she waited for it to die down. “The merits of Dame Sterling Gears extend beyond her courage and tenacity. Through Pinkamena Diane Pie and Sterling Gears’s efforts and leadership, Equestria has forged friendly relations with a diamond dog pack for the first time in recorded history. Through trade, the silver and topaz shortages have ended, and we look forward to continued contact.”

Even the first bout of applause had been better than what followed Luna’s words. Sure, a few applauded in earnest, some did it to be polite, and what could only be Pinkie did it hard enough for a quarter of the room, but I was sorely tempted to turn around and see if the rest were too stunned or confused to do anything.

If Celestia was disappointed by the audience’s response, she didn’t show it. “Thank you, all of you, for being here tonight to honor the deeds of one of our heroes.” She smiled and her eyes glinted playfully. “Now for the part many of you have been waiting for—do not deny it, some of your stomachs are quite loud.”

The audience responded with chuckles.

Celestia continued, “Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, would you please escort Alpha Pinkamena Diane Pie and our guest of honor to the banquet hall?”

Finally! My legs were starting to get stiff, and it felt oh so good to get them moving again. I could only imagine how Discord must have felt when he broke free. He hadn’t been trapped for ten thousand years, but his imprisonment had to have given him such a crick in the neck.

The two princesses nodded at me as we started walking, and Pinkie quickly took her position next to me as soon as I’d stepped off the dais.

“She better not have been lying about the cake,” Pinkie whispered. Cadence must have heard too, as she quietly giggled.

The two royal guards from earlier opened the doors for us, and Twilight and Cadence steered us to the left. Well, they steered me at least—with cake at the center, Pinkie could find her way through a maze so quick that Daedalus would have said “fuck it, I’m done” and gone home.

“So, haven’t had a chance to meet you before, Cadence,” I said. Since there hadn't been a prize for meeting all of the Mane Six, I doubted there would be one for meeting all the princesses.

“Sterling!”

Cadence chuckled. “It’s alright, Twilight. It’s not like anypony is close enough to hear us. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dame Sterling Gears. Congratulations.”

“Just ‘Sterling’ or ‘Gears,’ please. No, seriously, just either of those.” Continued exposure still hadn’t acclimated me to “Dame.” It was like going back to the beach to get rid of your sunburn.

“I can understand that. As this is our first meeting, I haven’t had the chance to thank you for saving Twilight. She’s lucky to have friends like you.”

“She’s the only purple pony I know. The color wheel would have been lopsided without her.”

Pinkie nodded like she'd just heard a vague, inspirational saying. “It’s true. Wheels that aren’t round don’t work very well.”

Twilight smirked. “Gee, thanks.”

“Sterling, I’ve heard that you have a meeting with Shining Armor later tonight,” Cadence said.

I nodded. “Yeah, I figured that he’d be the pony to talk to about shield spells. I was lucky that Twilight was able to set up a way for me to meet with him.”

Cadence smiled. “Shining does know shields better than most ponies alive today. I hope you can learn something from him.”

“I’m a quick study, even if my note-taking skills offend Twilight.”

Twilight opened her mouth to object, but instead of speaking, she sighed and nodded, drawing laughter from the rest of us.

“The two of you would probably get along. Still, don’t get too cozy tonight. He is a married stallion, after all.”

Wait, what? “Excuse me?”

“Oh look, we’ve arrived at the banquet hall,” Cadence said with a smirk, opening the doors and strolling inside.

Author's Notes:

Bit of a long chapter this time. In fact, I think it's my longest so far, so... yay? If you're wondering why I skipped the trip to Canterlot for the Summer Sun Celebration, it's because not much happened that was worth more than a mention. In the next chapter, we get to see Gears outwit nobles, or we would if she had any idea what she was doing. Formal train wreck, anyone?

At first, I wasn't going to have Gears knighted, but then I was like "Wait a minute, she'd totally hate that! Sorry, Gears."

If you're a bit confused at why it's called The Order of the Ash Heart, "ash" refers to the type of tree, and "heart" refers to the bleeding heart flower, which actually made it onto the medal. Apparently, both of these are symbols for sacrifice. The material Gears couldn't identify was magically petrified ash wood.

Yes, this chapter did touch on gender issues, but I figured it was appropriate between the strange new feeling of wearing clothes as a pony and how nervous Gears is about screwing things up for the diamond dogs.

The Banquet

I got a good, long look at the banquet hall as an usher led me to my seat while the first of the other guests started trickling in. The decor reminded me of restaurants where it was impossible to get reservations unless they were made a decade or two in advance. A quartet provided classical ambiance from a small raised section, though I found myself a little disappointed that Octavia and her cello weren’t present. A sea of tables covered in white tablecloths sat atop half of a seabed of large marble tiles. Royal guards were spaced evenly along the walls, blending into the background as easily as tuxedos amongst penguins.

Ordering the food worked just like the few weddings I’d been to on Earth—look over the three or four options on the card, check off the one that sounded least likely to get burnt, and wonder what the seat planner had been smoking when he’d decided to place me at a table where I had absolutely nothing in common with half the others.

The only difference was that one of my options had been faintly underlined, something lacking on any of the other cards I managed to catch a glimpse of. I was wary until Twilight had told me it was the easiest dish to eat without magic. Normally, it would have irritated me even more, but it was just a suggestion, and it wasn’t like I knew what any of the items were. It was like they thought it would taste worse if everybody knew what it was.

The banquet hall would be the fanciest place I’d eaten at in my entire life. That is, if the food ever arrived. I could have sworn that Pinkie had mentioned they were preparing for the meal when she was in the kitchen, and I’d figured that meant the food would be ready to go when we were. Friggin’ “gourmet” cuisine. I swore to find a greasy spoon the moment I got back to Ponyville, a diner that was equal parts delicious and artery-clogging.

Pinkie was sitting to my left, scrutinizing a napkin swan like she was about to tie it to a chair, throw a spotlight on it, and ask it where the bomb had been planted. On my other side was Twilight, who had to have claimed her seat by pulling more strings than the average orchestra. She was listening to the Zebrican Ambassador, Muzii, who was sharing an anecdote.

“So then I ask, ‘What do mangoes have to do with anything?’” Everybody at the table laughed as Muzii finished, and so did a few ponies at other tables who were novices when it came to eavesdropping.

“Good show,” said Fancy Pants, who was as fancy and pantsless as I’d expected. “Sounds like it was just the right thing to spice up that play.”

“Oh yes.” Muzii chuckled. “I still send them a gift-wrapped mango every year.”

An aged griffon grunted, fixing an eye on Muzii. “I say you went too soft on them. If it were me, I’d have given them an earful.” It was a little disappointing that the first griffon I’d met was so far over the hill the that he looked like he was preparing to make a second pass. One good sneeze would knock out more than a few of his feathers.

Silver Tree, the head of some noble house that had barely been important enough to get an invitation, took a sip from her wine and tittered. Her laugh would have been more at home on a lioness watching an injured gazelle. “If it were you, Greybeak, you’d have fallen asleep and been none the wiser.”

Greybeak harrumphed. “You’d do well to respect your elders, fledgeling.” His gaze turned towards me just as I set down my glass. “You’ve been quiet, ‘Dame’ Sterling. You know, you seem to be in excellent health for a Knight in the Order of the Ash Heart. What, exactly, were your injuries?”

Twilight tensed up next to me, ears going rigid as she glared at Greybeak. Pinkie winced, her ears folding back as she went as quiet as the rest of the table. I was surprised he had taken so long to make an awkward silence.

A twinge went through my leg. It had been iffy through the entire ceremony, like a petulant child that had to be taken grocery shopping because he was on every babysitter’s blacklist. Worse yet, my leg was starting to realize I wasn’t going to buy it candy at the checkout. “I really don’t think that’s an appropriate topic for a dinner table.”

“Perhaps if we had our dinners. As for now, it’s just a table.”

I couldn’t argue that point. It was indeed a table. “Still, it’s not something brought up in polite conversation. Besides, if you haven’t already noticed it, you probably wouldn’t believe me.” I wanted to remove my leg and place it on the table just to watch him choke on his words, but I was supposed to be on my best behavior. Or at least the behavior used at the same time as the good china.

I’d expected Greybeak to single me out eventually, just not on that particular topic. He was the only openly hostile being at the table—Silver Tree was far more subtle about it, though she still didn’t try to hide her disdain when she spoke. Muzii and Fancy Pants were good company though. With all the disdainful and self-pleasing looks I’d noticed from nearly everybody else, I was surprised that I’d been lucky enough to get this particular set of tablemates.

It was probably a good example of what could be expected from the rest of the event, as the tables would be cleared out shortly after the meal, dumping me into shark-infested waters like a bucket of chum. Greybeak and Silver Tree were just two ends of a scale, and there was a lot of room in-between. The more I thought on it, the more it seemed like the seating arrangement was a little too convenient.

Not that I didn’t appreciate it, but Luna had said her sister and she were confident Pinkie and I could succeed. Was that only because they were tweaking things behind the scenes? How much further would it go? Maybe I was just seeing puppeteers where there were none, but I’d have to make sure I asked Luna about it later. It was only paranoia if you were wrong.

“I beg your pardon? I’ll have you know my eyes are as sharp as they’ve ever been.” Greybeak huffed. Why was he at the banquet anyway? He wasn’t the Griffon Ambassador or his aide—those two sat a few tables over.

Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “Greybeak, old chap, would you please tell me what is written on the name card in front of you? I’m afraid I can’t quite make it out from here.”

“Of course.” He picked up the small card and squinted at it. “It says ‘This spot reserved for Sir Greybeak, Lord of Easthold’.” Oh, so that’s what he did.

“I’m afraid that’s what this one says.” Fancy Pants waved a card in the air. “The one you’re reading from is mine.”

“You’ve made your point.” Greybeak frowned, which was disconcerting to see a beak do, and turned to his wine while I gave Fancy Pants a thankful nod.

Twilight smiled nervously. “So, who would like to discuss the ramifications of the recent events in Trottingham?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a veritable legion of covered-tray-bearing carts. “Hey look, the food’s almost here. Guess you’ll have to wait until afterwards to discuss Horsepun.”

“Trottingham,” Twilight deadpanned.

“Them too.” Honest mistake. Horsepun and Trottingham sounded almost exactly the same, after all.

My stomach rumbled as the food drew nearer. I could smell each dish hiding under metal lids, sauces and spices mingling to create a scent that taunted me. The servants moved at an agonizingly slow pace, probably waiting for us to starve to death so they could have it all for themselves.

“Gears, you’re about to start drooling.” Pinkie’s whisper broke me out of my reverie. Glass clinked as she stealthily placed a bottle on the ground. “I brought the hot sauce if you need any.”

I still wasn’t sure what I’d ordered, so for all I knew, the dish would go better with teriyaki sauce—now there was something I really missed. “Thanks. We’ll know in a bit I guess.”

“Tell me, Dame Sterling, have you ever dined at the castle before?” Fancy Pants asked. I didn’t like either honorific, but “Dame” was my main role for the night. Besides, I was sure that if I’d made a fuss about it, he would have gladly called me “Beta” instead. Fancy Pants was cool like that.

“Nothing official, though I’ve had a few snacks here and there.” They weren’t bad, but when you have regular contact with Pinkie, other baked goods just don’t cut it.

“Well, you are in for a treat tonight. I’ve yet to have a disappointing meal here.”

Muzii nodded. “Yes, the food is quite delicious.”

At our table, my meal was placed first, and Twilight quickly whispered for me to wait for one of the servants to remove the lid. My stomach rumbled again, and Pinkie’s rumbled in response. Finally, a unicorn used his magic to remove every lid at once, and the meal began in earnest.

The food choice I’d marked hadn’t said “ravioli without sauce,” but that was definitely what it looked like. Maybe it was something else in Italian—Neightalian, Bitalian, or whatever the pony-equivalent was—that just looked like ravioli.

“Is something wrong with your meal, madam?” a voice behind me asked.

“No, no. Just lost in thought.”

It didn’t need the hot sauce Pinkie had offered, but the food wasn’t anything remarkable. Sure, it looked pretty, but that was about it. There wasn’t much of it either, and if there weren’t hoof-foods to munch on later, I was going to find Pinkie and Spike and we’d sneak out to Donut Joe’s. I was sure Celestia and Luna would forgive me if I remembered to bring them something back.

I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen the little dragon since before I’d gotten dressed. “Twilight, where’s Spike?”

Pinkie coughed.

“Grounded for making a mess in the kitchens,” Twilight said quietly, spearing some more of her salad with a fork. I’d never thought I would miss silverware—even during the apocalypse, it had been relatively easy to find, though a clean fork was never around when wanted.

Spike being grounded wasn’t a problem for my fallback plan, as Pinkie wouldn’t have minded helping me break him out.

There was some light conversation among the rest of the table while we ate, but it was little more than Silver Tree complaining, Fancy Pants and Muzii being good company, and Greybeak doing his best to frown at everything.

As the cleared plates were taken away, Silver Tree turned to me with a sickening smile. “As you may know, Dame Sterling, I’m in charge of the most profitable silver mine in Equestria.”

“Used to be. We’ve exported more silver in the last couple months than you have in the past two years.” I’d seen her name a few times when I’d started looking into the silver market.

Silver snorted. “I did say ‘most profitable,’ young mare.”

“Don’t call me ‘young mare’ unless I can call you ‘old broad’.” Only one person was allowed to call me any variation of “kid,” and the nag wasn’t even wearing tweed. “We might not make as much profit, but that’s because most of it goes right back into the pack, not my own pockets.”

Muzii chuckled, and Twilight just about choked on her drink. Greybeak made an expression that could be interpreted as small smile, depending on the lighting and whether the drink was strong enough to strip paint.

“I’d be wary of insulting the pony trying to make you a lucrative deal.”

“If you want to make a deal, write up a document. I don’t negotiate over dinner.”

“And what of you, Alpha Pinkamena? Are you going to let your underling ruin your pack’s chances of becoming wealthy?”

Pinkie glared venomously, and Twilight and I scooted away. It was the angriest I’d ever seen her be without somebody breaking a Pinkie Promise. “Do you know where I grew up? The best rock farm in Equestria. I know you’ve heard about it, since you tried to take it from my family with your evil legal mumbo-jumbo.”

The conversation at the nearest few tables had stopped as well, further adding to the awkward silence. Silver Tree wilted under Pinkie’s glare—I was surprised Pinkie hadn’t mentioned anything to her earlier.

Before Silver Tree could burst into flames, Fancy Pants cleared his throat and turned to Twilight. “Princess Twilight, you mentioned Trottingham earlier?”

Even I sighed in relief. I had no love for Silver Tree, but I would have felt bad if a maid needed to come out and sweep up her ashes.

“Yes, the recent protests against changelings got out of hand, and in the ensuing riot, several buildings caught fire and burnt to the ground because the fire department was unable to reach the flames,” Twilight said, just as eager for a change of subject.

The ache in my leg was getting bad enough that I seriously considered taking a painkiller, but my hopes were dashed amongst jagged rocks as I realized every last pill was sitting in a bottle back in the room.

“Ah, I’d read something about that in the newspaper. Dreadful business.”

Their conversation actually held my interest, though I had to resist butting in with a “Hmm yes, quite.” Our table had actually been one of the first finished, but it didn’t take more than another ten or fifteen minutes for everybody else to clean their plates. As the servants removed the last of the dishes, the attendees moved to the other half of the room, milling about as more and more joined them.

When I stood up, several pairs of ears and a few faces swivelled in my direction, giving me the feeling that an open season had just been declared.

“Don’t worry, Gears, I’ll be at your side the—holey moley, look at that cake!” said a Pinkie-shaped cloud of dust. With how fast she tended to eat, I had nothing to worry about. Besides, there was still a purple princess I could rely on. No, wait, she was still talking to Fancy Pants.

“Right, on my own until Pinkie’s finished committing cake-icide. Step one: get a drink, preferably something strong. Step two: weather the storm. Step three: try not to talk to myself, because I really don’t want them to hear my thoughts.”

I scanned the room for a servant that didn’t look busy, hoping they could at least tell me where I could get my drink. I debated juking the nobles headed my way but figured I’d probably just fall over instead of redirecting anybody.

“Hey, where could I get something a bit stronger than wine?”

“Have you tried the bar, madam?” He gestured towards a fully stocked bar that was fancy enough to not seem out of place in the banquet hall.

I could have sworn there had just been a wall there earlier. Whatever, it was probably just magic.

“Ah, Dame Sterling, just the pony I wanted to see.”

“Yeah, that’s nice. I’m going to get a drink. If you’re still around after I have something decent in front of me, then we can talk.” I wasn’t even sure who I’d just snubbed, but it was nobody I knew. A small voice in the back of my head told me to play nice—I intended to drown it in whiskey or gin.

The drink burned going down, but I was ready to face the night, one guest at a time.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your award. You seem to be handling it well, all things considered.”

“Thanks. Things are different, but it wasn’t too much to get used to.” Well, she wasn’t so bad. I caught myself halfway through thinking things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“How did you train a diamond dog to cook your meals? Do you think I could get one for a servant?” asked a different pony.

I frowned at him. It looked like my stray thought had still counted. “None of them cook for me, and none of them would want to be your servant.”

A third pony saw her chance to step in. “With my help, you can—”

“Pass.” The little voice in the back of my head couldn’t object, as it was desperately trying to stay afloat in an aged, flavorful sea. Too bad I’d made sure to place the flotation devices out of reach.

“Your prosthetic limb is a technological marvel. I wish to purchase it.”

“I think I’ll say ‘no.’ I’m still using it.” I honestly hadn’t seen that one coming. It wasn’t that advanced either—”technological marvel” made me think of bionics and such.

They came at me in an endless stream asking everything from “Will you attend my garden party next week?” to “Where’s the bathroom?” with no sign of slowing. Pinkie and Twilight had their own mobs to deal with, namely those who were tired of waiting for a turn to speak with me.

I couldn’t tell most of the guests apart, though the Griffon Ambassador, Camillo, stood out for more reasons than just being the result of a mad scientist’s efforts to make a Persian get along with an African Grey. The first thing out of his beak was a compliment on my choice of drink. The second was an apology for Greybeak, who Camillo explained was the previous Griffon Ambassador and wasn’t actually supposed to be at the castle but everybody pitied him too much to kick him out. As we parted ways, I promised to send him a cask of rock ale, and he responded with a promise to send a cask of Misty Aerie Mead. It looked like something good had come out of the mingling after all.

A minotaur that was probably an ambassador stopped by, congratulated me, and left without another word. Nobody I asked actually knew his name—it was definitely something I’d have to ask someone later.

I didn’t notice the crowd thinning out until Pinkie appeared, looking incredibly satisfied that the dessert table was a husk of its former glory, and I steered the two of us to the hors d'oeuvres. The meager amount of food I’d managed to snag from any tray-carrying servants that had passed by weren’t nearly enough to make up for the tiny dinner. Also, the finger-food—likely hoof-food in Equestria, but that was just another question to ask—table had mini-quiches, and I would have been crazy to pass on those.

Twilight smiled as she approached. “I figured I would find you here.”

When I noticed her lack of cling-ons, I realized mine had all vanished as well. “Where’d they all go?”

She gave me a weird look. “The banquet was scheduled to end fifteen minutes ago.”

“Time does fly when you’re having fun,” Pinkie said with a sagely nod. “Especially if you’re a pegasus. Or an alicorn, I guess.”

“It also does it when you zone out and try not to pay attention.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “It couldn’t have been that bad, Sterling.”

“It had its good times, but I could have done without the vast majority of it. Either way, I’m glad it’s over.”

“You have to remember that the two of you are an unknown variable. I practically grew up in Canterlot Castle, so they’ve had plenty of time to learn about me. Some might have even done research on the Elements. To them, Sterling, it looks like you came out of nowhere.”

“As far as Equestria is concerned, I kinda did.” Even a passing thought on the Between was enough to make me shudder.

Twilight winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

I held up a hoof, giving her a smile to show that I wasn’t mad. “I know, and I see what you mean. The only info they’d find on my past are some identification papers.”

Pinkie grinned. “They’d either think you were really boring or a secret agent. If you need to throw them off the trail, you can borrow my spy suit. I even got the night-vision goggles that make that ‘bwee’ sound when you turn them on.”

“You know, I thought I’d see Blueblood tonight.” I wanted to see if he was actually as bad as Rarity and the show had made him out to be.

“That meanie that got cake on Rarity?” Pinkie asked.

“He was present. I had a decent conversation with him. I don’t know why he didn’t speak to you,” Twilight said with a shrug. She gestured behind me and added, “Sterling, mind if I have one of those mini-quiches?”

“Uh, sure? They’re not mine.”

She collected a few of them onto a plate. “With the way you’re plowing through them, I was afraid I’d lose a hoof.”

“Hey, I expected dinner. I got a side dish.”

The approaching sound of hooves alerted us to Celestia and Luna. Celestia took one of Twilight’s mini-quiches and chuckled as she popped it into her mouth. “Most nobles do not possess much of an appetite, Dame Sterling.”

“Camillo was pretty cool though.”

“The Griffon Ambassador? Yes, I saw you two getting along nicely. All three of you conducted yourselves admirably tonight.”

Luna nodded in agreement. “Indeed, though Dame Sterling could have used a little more tact in some places.”

“Ugh, are you two going to call me ‘Dame Sterling’ for the rest of the night?”

Luna nodded again and smiled. “Most likely.” Everybody except me chuckled.

“I’m sorry for our absence,” Cadence said as she trotted into the banquet hall with Shining at her side. Maybe it was just me, but she seemed to be walking a bit differently. “There were a few… urgent matters we had to attend to.”

Considering how easy it was to make Twilight blush, Cadence’s lack of subtlety had gone so far over her head that it was running out of atmosphere. I’d seen burning inns that had been less obvious.

“How nice of you two to join us,” Luna said, dipping her head respectfully. “Dame Sterling, I’d like to introduce the regents of the Crystal Empire, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, whom you’ve already met, and Prince Shining Armor.” She must have known I’d realize who they were, but I figured she was just being polite.

I waved. “Hey there.” Formality had been optional ever since Twilight had told me the function was over. If I could have found a few minutes to slink away and remove the dress, I would have been one happy pony.

Shining shook my hoof. “A pleasure. You’re the one Twilight arranged for me to discuss shield spells with, correct?”

Nodding, I said, “That’s me. Everything I need is back in my room though.”

“Then it may be best if we part ways for the evening,” Celestia said. “There is still much some of us must accomplish before retiring.”

“My sister makes an excellent point. Now that the award ceremony and banquet have finished, I am running out of time to delay Night Court. I will take my leave if there are no further matters to discuss.” When nobody spoke up, she nodded. “Very well then. I wish all of you a good night. Dame Sterling, I request your presence in the north waiting room. Do you require directions?”

Twilight spoke up. “I’ll guide her, Princess Luna. I’ll need to help get that dress off her anyway.”

The reactions were mixed—Cadence and Pinkie chuckled, Shining gaped, Luna looked confused, Celestia’s eyes glinted mischievously over a smile, and I facehoofed.

Twilight’s clueless expression turned to bafflement. “Did I miss something?”

Pinkie laughed harder as she rolled onto her back, legs flailing in the air as she giggle-snorted.

Hoof still planted on my face, I mumbled, “Phrasing, Twilight. Watch the innuendo.”

“Innuendo? No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Her face reddened with every word, turning from lavender to “this isn’t what it looks like” red in the span of a few sentences. “We’re friends, just friends. I’d be removing her clothing in a friendly manner.”

I stuffed a hoof in her mouth before she could do any more damage. “As much as I’d love to watch you dig yourself deeper and deeper, it’s nowhere near as fun if I get dragged into the pit too.” Without removing my hoof, I looked to the others. “There is nothing between us. I had a lot of trouble getting the dress on, and Twilight’s probably correct when she says I’ll need help removing it.” It was embarrassing to admit, but less so than letting Twilight continue without clarification.

Pinkie’s laughter quickly petered out, but she remained on the floor. “Aww, that’s nowhere near as funny.”

“Do you require assistance, Pinkamena?” Luna asked. Oh sure, Luna, didn’t use her honorific.

“No thanks. I’m just comfortable.”

“Very well then. If anypony needs me, I will be in the northern waiting room for the near future.” Luna walked away, smiling as Pinkie waved from the floor.

Cadence whispered something in Shining’s ear, and he failed to suppress a dopey grin. “Since you will be occupied for a bit, Dame Sterling, there is time for Cadence and I to attend to a little more business.”

“Business or ‘business’.” Air quotes were still better with hooves.

Shining smirked. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. When you are finished with Luna, please come find me in the library.”

Twilight raised her hoof. “Shiny, I think the library is a bad idea. Maybe you should find someplace sturdier. Someplace with fewer fragile, priceless relics.”

“I agree with Twilight,” Celestia said, nodding. With a smirk in my direction, she added, “Some ponies are more prone to accidents than others.”

“Hey now, I think I’ve caused far more damage doing stuff inentionally than on accident.” I paused for a moment as my words caught up to me. “That came out wrong… at least I didn’t detonate a bomb in Twilight’s library.”

Twilight smiled. “Marketplace cart crash.”

“That one motel,” Pinkie added.

“That second one doesn’t count.” Besides, the place had had it coming. At first, I wondered how Pinkie had known about it, but then I stopped caring.

Shining thought for a moment. “We could always use one of those fortified rooms Twily used to practice in when she lived here.”

“And you can tell me all sorts of embarrassing stories about her.”

Shining laughed. “There are a few I have in mind.”

Twilight sighed. “Really, you two?”

“You ask parents if you want embarrassing pictures and siblings if you want embarrassing stories. Also, you accidentally lit my couch on fire.”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight huffed. “I know! You bring it up every two or three days! At least I didn’t almost die in a fire because I was trying to save pillows.”

I shrugged. “They were really comfy.” Softie was probably dead, but if he had shown up on my doorstep, I would have lied through my teeth to keep them, even if he could have seen them from the door.

“Sounds completely rational to me,” Celestia said, sounding sarcastic and sincere simultaneously. It was the kind of tone that I wouldn’t want to call out no matter who had used it, because there was a fifty-fifty chance I’d just look like an ass.

Cadence coughed to get our attention, or at least that’s what I’d thought until she coughed again and made the face reserved for when something goes down the wrong tube. “Sorry about the interruption, but Shining Armor and I should get going if we’re going to finish our business before it gets too late.”

“Oh, yes,” Shining replied with a nod. “Princess Celestia, Pinkie Pie, it was good to see you, as always. As for you, Twily, we should have brunch tomorrow so we can catch up before you head back to Ponyville. Dame Sterling, I’ll send a message to the waiting room once I figure out which room we will be using.”

“I will take this opportunity to retire as well. First, I wish to congratulate you once more on your award, Dame Sterling,” Celestia said. I made a mental note to call her nicknames more often.

As soon as Sunbutt, Shiny, and Love Shack left the room, Pinkie pulled Twilight and me into a hug. “I had fun, but now I have to go prepare for my mission. Without a proper briefing, I’ll just have to wing it, but Gummy’s borrowing my good briefcase. And do you have any idea how hard it is to find even a single pair of briefs?”

“I can guess.” I had yet to see a pair of underpants in Equestria. Pinkie would be searching for a long time—her quest for briefs would not be brief.

“I’ll see both of you in a little bit. Oh, Gears, I need to borrow a smoke bomb.” She pulled a round object from behind my ear, and it definitely wasn’t a quarter or bit. “Thanks!” With a quick toss and a puff of smoke, she vanished. One of the few royal guards remaining around the room’s perimeter promptly dropped his spear in shock.

“You actually brought smoke bombs? How did you even hide it there without the scan picking it up?”

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t even know how to make them.” I’d been putting off my visit to Zecora’s because of a healthy dose of paranoia. Anypony I’d asked had told me that I wouldn’t have to worry about anything in the forest as long as I stayed on the path and didn’t stay after dark or longer than necessary. But an ex-human does not simply walk through the Everfree Forest without getting ambushed by timberwolves, manticores, or something else that makes biologists cry themselves to sleep. Anydog I’d asked about the Everfree shook their heads and said, “Forest cursed, Beta,” and I was inclined to trust that nugget of wisdom.

Twilight sighed. “Just Pinkie being Pinkie, I guess. Let’s get going. We don’t want to keep Princess Luna waiting for too long.”

If it weren’t for Twilight, I would have wandered the castle halls until I died of thirst, a fate that had likely befallen many tourists and rookie staff members. However, my guide knew the castle like the back of her hoof, and it took less than five minutes to reach my room. I was unsure if I were more eager to shed the dress or take a painkiller.

The room was as I had left it except for an engraved wooden box sitting on the table. The lid bore the same coat of arms as the medal dangling from my neck, so I figured it was the case for when it wasn’t being worn.

“You did well tonight, Gears,” Twilight said as she removed the brooch holding my dress, levitating the small clasp to my saddlebags.

Getting the dress off took far less effort than putting it on, and I shook it off faster than I would a tacky Christmas sweater. My fur felt like each hair was pointing in a different direction, and I frantically tried to smooth it out. Twilight giggled at my misery.

“Laugh if you want. I’d do the same if I were in your shoes.” I sank onto the floor as my coat normalized, the near itchiness rubbed out of existence. “So much better.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

The neck order’s weight was comforting, but I still wanted it off. Instead of getting tossed onto the floor with the dress, it went into the velvet-lined case with a modicum of care. “It was. Now I just have to get rid of this bun, get my goggles, and I’ll be set.”

“You could always leave it in. I think you wear it well.”

That still didn’t stop me from tearing the bun apart as quickly as I could without ripping out my mane in the process. “Thanks. I could keep it, but all the fancy stuff I need to take part in is over. I don’t have to be ‘Dame’ Sterling Gears for the rest of the night, just the regular one.”

“You know that’s not how it works, right? Princess Luna is probably going to still use ‘Dame’ to address you.”

I was so much more comfortable with my goggles in their proper place atop my head. The empty feeling had been wearing on me more and more as the night went on. “Yeah, I know. I do appreciate you not using it though.”

Twilight smiled. “It looked like it bothered you.”

“Thanks though.” It took only a moment to fish out my painkillers and take one. I would have taken a second one if I didn’t still have ponies to visit. Hopefully, Twilight wouldn’t mind too much, though I couldn’t see why she would have.

She looked on in concern. “Is your leg bothering you?”

“Yeah, it’s been a bit sore all night. So, where is Luna waiting?” I motioned towards the door.

“As you can guess, the northern waiting room is on the north side of the castle. It’s actually closer than the banquet hall is.”

“Lead the way.”

The halls we traversed gave the same feeling of familiarity as the room I was staying in. I didn’t realize why until after we’d knocked on the door and Luna had called for us to enter. It was the same room I’d been in the night of my journey into the dreamscape, and it was where I had first met Luna. It looked as cozy as I remembered, and in fact, it didn’t seem like anything had changed.

“I’ll leave you two be.” Twilight started towards the door.

“Nonsense, Twilight Sparkle. I should have invited you in the first place, and I apologize for my oversight. Please, sit down. Pinkamena should also be here.”

“She’ll show up when she feels like it.” Just like last time, I grabbed a kiwi fruit from the fruit bowl on the table. I hadn’t quite managed to fill up on the snacks at the banquet, and there had been a woeful lack of fruit. “Mmm, that’s good.”

“You’re still hungry? You were teasing my eating habits earlier.”

“I get a full meal at home. Also, it’s fruit, so shut up. Why did you want to see me, Luna?” Kiwi fruits were six times as expensive as apples in Ponyville. I wasn’t pinching bits, but it just wasn’t worth it—besides, raspberries were relatively cheap.

“We did not get much time to converse before the ceremony. There is also something I must give you, Dame Sterling, but that can wait until the end of our time here,” Luna said.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you going to call me ‘Dame’ all night?”

“Of course. It is your title, is it not?”

“I swear, nobody’s going to call me that back home if I can help it. They won’t even know.” Though there was a distinct possibility a certain pair of princess might spread that information.

Luna smiled. “Why do you think my sister and I are using it so much this evening?”

Twilight giggled. “She has a point, ‘Dame’ Sterling.” She stopped giggling when I threw an orange at her. Her magic caught the fruit before it could hit, but she didn’t stop smiling. “That was unnecessary.”

Ignoring the citrus assault, Luna asked, “I trust both of you met many interesting ponies at the dinner?”

“Interesting? Maybe a couple. Most of them felt like foppish mannequins.” There had also been a disappointing lack of monocles. Other than Fancy Pants, only one other unicorn had worn one. Unlike Fancy Pants, he’d been a dick.

Twilight hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. All the ponies I met looked interested in theoretical thaumology, though I don’t think many of them actually understood what I was saying.”

“Twilight, you’re a Princess. You could be talking about something you scraped off your hooves, and they’d still pretend to be interested.”

Luna frowned at me. “Sterling, be nice.”

“Hey, you didn’t call me ‘Dame’ that time.”

“An accident, I assure you. It will not happen again. As far as I have heard, neither you two nor Pinkamena were manipulated into anything, though Dame Sterling’s temper could have used some work.”

“It’s not like I said anything just to be mean. If somebody was insulted, they probably deserved it.” They’d probably deserved it twice over actually.

“Regardless, that is not how one should conduct themselves during formal occasions. However, I do have to commend you on demanding all requests in writing, though I suspect you will have much paperwork to address the next few weeks.”

I had told quite a few ponies to put stuff in writing, but I really didn’t feel like going through that much text. “I haven’t made paper airplanes in a while.”

“Those flying tube things, right?” Twilight waited for me to nod. “Sterling, we don’t have airplanes in Equestria. I think I know what you’re talking about making, but they’re called ‘paper gliders’ here.”

“I do not recommend using legal documents to construct toys for foals,” Luna said. It was an understandable warning, but that didn’t mean it would be followed. “Twilight Sparkle, I admired your strategy of discussing a subject so complicated that nopony else could turn the argument towards their own ends.”

Twilight chuckled nervously. “Thank you, Luna. That is exactly what I meant to do, and I am also glad it worked.”

Even though Twilight was less subtle than a bedazzled freight train, Luna didn’t act like she’d noticed. “Both of you exceeded our expectations.”

Their expectations had to have been pretty low in the first place. “How much of it was pre-arranged?” I asked.

Luna thought for a moment, no doubt choosing her words carefully. “Through our actions, the most dangerous nobles were of no risk to you.”

I sighed and slumped in my seat. “Great.”

Twilight looked to Luna with confusion on her face. “What do you mean?”

“Both of you hold very important positions. Twilight Sparkle, you have been to similar functions, but Sterling Gears is inexperienced with such things. There are certain… outcomes we could not risk.” She missed the honorific again, but I suspected it was a calculated decision this time.

Expecting something and hearing it confirmed were vastly different feelings. I could understand what Luna had been getting at, but that didn’t quell my discomfort. “I think I’ve been manipulated enough, don’t you?”

Luna subtly winced. “I do, but I have a country to govern. We may be friends, and my sister and I are willing to give you our trust, Sterling, but there are many things we cannot discuss with you. The well-being of Equestria must be my highest priority at all times.”

I wanted to scream, to cuss her out with more expletives than a sailor with a thesaurus, but I was better than that. Some part of me fiercely insisted I retaliate, but if Luna’s and my positions had been reversed, I would have done the same to her. The pack was far smaller than Equestria, but I would have angered any one of them if it meant protecting the rest. I knew Luna and Celestia well enough to believe they probably hadn’t wanted to do it, but in the grand scheme of things, my personal feelings meant nothing and neither did theirs.

For the first time, my position as Beta made me feel trapped. I had no business being a leader, but I couldn’t abandon them just to make things more convenient for me, even if it meant having to dance to another’s tune for a little while. It was not lost on me that they’d kept me from the manipulations of nobles by doing their own puppeteering. Better a marionette than a sock puppet though—being unable to move without a hoof up your ass would be horrifying.

If I’d still had hands, the fingernails would have been digging into my palms. Still, I kept my voice level as I spoke. “If something like this comes up again in the future, give me a heads up. Just don’t keep me in the dark.”

Luna hesitated. “Sterling, I cannot make such a promise.”

“Please, Luna. Do it as a favor to me.”

She sighed and tentatively nodded. “I will do what I can to inform you, but please keep in mind I may not be able to say much.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Twilight, you’ve been pretty quiet… Twilight?”

Twilight was continuously repeating the breathing exercise Cadence had supposedly taught her, though it would have been more effective if she weren’t nearly hyperventilating, each exhale audible over the fireplace’s crackle. It was amusing for about three-and-a-half seconds, then it became awkward. The situation quickly shifted back to amusing as I threw another piece of fruit, a plum this time, and it bounced off her raised foreleg.

Twilight blinked as she came back to reality, then looked down at the fruit and sighed. “Sterling, please stop throwing things at me.”

The corners of Luna’s mouth twitched upwards as she said, “Yes, Sterling Gears, please stop making a mess.”

I was still miffed from the earlier debacle, but throwing produce at royalty had proved to be an excellent way to better my mood. Maybe I’d have to convince Luna to help me pelt Celestia with bananas. “It’s not like it burst or anything. Besides, I got her attention, didn’t I?”

“While that may be, there are alternative ways to get the attention of another.”

“Yeah, but they’re boring and not as effective.” I looked back to Twilight, who thankfully hadn’t resumed panicking. “Feeling better?” She better have been—that was a perfectly good plum.

Twilight frowned again, shooting Luna a hurt look more potent than any kicked puppy’s. “I thought you and Celestia trusted me.” She sadly nodded towards me. “Trusted us.”

For a moment, I wondered if I’d accidentally compromised anything Celestia had done to Twilight. Then I realized I really didn’t care—Twilight was a bright mare, but the only reason she hadn’t outright denied the manipulation was that her hero worship had declined to healthy levels in the time that I’d known her. It was about time for her to wise up.

Luna sighed, no doubt wishing she could tag her sister into the ring. When she looked at me, she wasn’t glaring. No, her expression was asking why I’d felt the need to bring this up with Twilight in the room. A spiteful whisper in my mind told me the sisters had brought it upon themselves, but I’d never been vindictive person to anything that hadn’t committed genocide. Also, Luna was still my favorite princess as far as princessy things went.

“They do, Twilight.” I paused, trying to figure out the best way to explain it. Then I remembered who I was talking to. “Would you trust a student to get everything right on a final exam within the first couple weeks of the course?” Then I really remembered who I was talking to. “A normal student that can’t read four-hundred page textbooks in a single night.” I’d watched her do it once too—it was rather disturbing.

“Excuse me for wanting to do well.” Twilight shook her head. “That’s not the point though. Why aren’t you angrier about this?”

“Oh, I’m pissed. I just can’t do anything about it right now. I’ll be reducing a few boulders to gravel and trees to toothpicks after I get home.” There was a little nitroglycerin I’d been saving for a rainy day.

Three sharp knocks came from the other side of the door, and a voice called out, “Messenger.”

Luna looked relieved as she opened the door with a quick burst of magic. “You may enter.”

The messenger’s eyes widened as he saw Luna. Apparently, nobody had told him she’d be here. To his credit, he regained his composure very quickly. “Is Dame Sterling Gears present?” He nodded as I raised my hoof. “Prince Shining Armor wishes to inform you he is waiting in spell-practice room B.”

“Alright, thanks.”

The messenger continued to stand in the doorway, looking at me awkwardly.

“Sterling,” Twilight whispered, “you have to dismiss him.”

“Oh, umm, you’re dismissed?” I sighed as the messenger closed the door and left. “I figured saying ‘thanks’ would have been plenty.”

“Technically, Luna or I could have dismissed him, but it’s considered rude to dismiss a messenger who is delivering a message to a different pony.”

Massaging my forehead with a hoof, I replied, “I need an etiquette cheatsheet.” Equestria didn’t have For Dummies books. I’d checked.

“I have confidence you will learn in time, Dame Sterling.” Luna smiled, cautiously adding the honorific back in. The break had been appreciated, even if it’d only happened because tensions had been running high. “It appears our time is running short, and there is yet one more thing I wished to address while both of you are present.”

We would have been done by now if I hadn’t brought up something that a less benevolent ruler would have called treason. Oops.

Twilight had an expression that either meant she had more to say or she’d eaten something that wasn’t agreeing with her. Whatever it was, it disappeared when she nodded and said, “I will bring up this topic with Celestia tomorrow, though I’ll avoid doing so while she’s holding court.”

“That would be best,” Luna said.

All three of us jumped as Pinkie burst into the room, small bits of flour falling from her coat. “Oh good, this isn’t that one bathroom again. I kept getting turned around, but I guess the forty-fifth time's the charm.”

Luna blinked slowly. “It is nice of you to join us, Pinkamena.” Apparently, she hadn't been paying attention when I'd told her Pinkie would show up when she was damn good and ready.

Pinkie waved a hoof. “No problem, Princess Luna. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” It wouldn’t have mattered too much if she’d been present earlier—there was a Pinkie-shaped void when it came to national security.

“Miss what?” Twilight asked, looking between Luna and Pinkie.

Luna floated out a box identical to the one sitting on the table in my room.

My breath caught in my throat as it dawned on me that everybody who’d met him was in the same room. “Is that…”

Luna responded by moving the box towards me. “We would not forget the one who gave his life during the recent crisis.”

I could feel my mouth start quivering, but I stuffed it and a sniffle into a burlap sack that would inevitably rip at a later, inconvenient time. Nobody present would have cared if I’d started crying, but I wasn’t holding off for them. Or myself.

Twilight matched Luna’s sad smile, and though I couldn’t see Pinkie’s face, I knew she bore one as well.

Luna continued, “Dave will not be forgotten. Though this is a paltry testament to his actions, we hope that you will accept this award on his behalf.”

A single nod was all I could muster. Dave would have hated the formal part of the award as much as—if not more than—I had, but the recognition would have more than made up for it. Before Pinkie, Dave had never hoped to speak with anybody other than me. Something like this was even further beyond expectations.

The lid lifted noiselessly, or at least I couldn’t hear anything, as Pinkie had chosen that moment to burst into tears. Her eyes weren’t gushing streams like in the show, but it was still disturbing to see something that wasn’t a slightly kinked garden hose expel that much water.

The medal was identical to mine, but the band that went around the neck was more ornate, made of gold and silver links that were finer than most textiles I’d seen. The chain had been sized for someone with a neck that was much smaller than a pony’s. In addition, it had been studded with alternating cabochons of a tasteful size. Half were a marbled dark-blue and black, which twisted around each other like two drops of dye that had been frozen while spreading through liquid. Semi-transparent white stones made up the other half, and they shone as the light caught the numerous golden streaks running through them.

At first, I thought the darker stones were moonstone, but they were opaque and the coloring was too dark. Besides, it would have been too easy to use moonstones and sunstones. They were either made of lapis or sodalite, but I was leaning towards the latter even though sodalite usually had white streaks. The lighter cabochons were distinctive enough to identify as gold-rutilated cloudy quartz. Both were polished, but their luster wasn’t enough to draw eyes away from the medal.

I realized I’d been staring at the award for at least thirty seconds, appraising the semi-precious stones like I had done with many others back in the Gem Hills. “Thank you.” It had been difficult to choke out those two little words, but none could have doubted their sincerity.

Twilight was the first to speak. “Out of all of us, I knew him the least amount of time, but I could tell how important he was to you.”

“Once you realized he wasn’t the bad guy, that is.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. That part of it was amusing at least. The rest of it, not so much.

“Well, yes.” She chuckled nervously. “But it was a completely reasonable reaction considering the circumstances.”

“I wish I could have met him under better circumstances, but I do not regret a minute of it,” Luna said, her eyes slightly misty.

“What about when you shot me in the leg?” No twinge of pain meant the painkiller was still doing its job.

“I had known him for at least a day at that point, though I am still deeply sorry for wounding you.”

Twilight raised a brow. “She did what?”

“It was an accident. Besides, I’ve had worse.” One of the benefits of my injury was the ability to create an awkward silence on command, though there was a risk of it happening unintentionally if my mouth got away from me.

Fortunately, Pinkie was highly resistant to awkwardness and recovered quickly. The floor around her was soggy with tears and squelched as she moved to hug me. “He would have been proud,” she whispered into my ear. It would have been touching if the hug hadn’t crushed my ribs into a fine powder.

When I regained my breath, I turned to Luna and said, “Thank you for making it private.” I wasn’t entirely sure why she’d done it, but that didn’t make me any less grateful.

She smiled. “Of course. My sister and I have also seen to it that he will be mentioned whenever a history book discusses the Week of Creeping Shadows.”

“That’s an… interesting name for it.” Then again, it wasn’t like I could think of a better one.

“It is a work in progress,” Luna muttered. She stood up as she spoke with a normal volume. “I do wish we could continue our conversation, but I have been away from my duties for too long as it is.”

“Thank you for asking me to stay, Luna. Even with the earlier argument, I am glad I was here,” Twilight said, completely ignoring the fact that she had been out of commission for most of it.

“And I am glad you could attend.” She stopped on her way to the door and contemplated something before saying, ”If any of you wish to do the same, I would like to keep in touch through correspondence.

I shrug. “Sure, why not? Still have that convenient mailbox.” On occasion, I would still get a headache from trying to figure out why Discord had left me that particular item. There had to be a reason, even if it turned out that it was only to make me think there was a deeper purpose.

“Do they have to be about anything in particular?” Twilight asked with nervous excitement. She was easily one of my closest friends, but her dorkiness still surprised me at times. She may have had a high intelligence, but wisdom was clearly her dump stat.

“They do not.”

“But then how will I know what to write about?”

“Twilight, it’s a conversation on paper. You don’t have to plan it out ahead of time.” Who was I kidding? I’d switched her salt and pepper shakers one time I’d visited—just their places, not the contents—and she’d freaked out for three hours before figuring it out. The first fifteen minutes of the freak-out had been spent rearranging her schedules to account for it. Spike and I had found it hilarious.

Pinkie tilted her head to the side. “I already send you letters, Princess Luna. Or do you mean non-work-related letters?”

Luna looked nervous for half of a second. “I meant letters that do not pertain to your job.”

“I hope you like confetti,” I mumbled.

Pinkie laughed. “That’s silly. Who doesn’t like confetti? I guess I could see somepony not liking streamers because of a bad experience, but it’s impossible for confetti to commit evil.” She knew party supplies better than anybody else, so I wasn’t going to doubt her.

“Most excellent!” Luna beamed as she resumed her exit with a bit more pep in her step. “Farewell, my friends. I may yet see some of you later tonight while you slumber.” It would have been really creepy if we hadn’t known what she was talking about. Still, I couldn’t help but be a little weirded out.

After she’d left, I asked. “Would either of you mind showing me where I’m supposed to meet Shining Armor?”

“I would, but it’s about time for me to take the cake out of the oven. Also, I have no idea where he is.” She’d said the second part with such enthusiasm that I was tempted to let her lead anyway.

Twilight stepped forwards. “I’ll take you to him, Gears. I figured I would be showing you where to go, and I’d like to say ‘hello’ to him before I get to my nightly reading anyways.”

“Do I have to use another smoke bomb, or can I just pretend?” Pinkie asked.

“Either one’s fine by me.” I’d checked behind my ears and found nothing, so I was a little afraid to see where she’d pull one from.

“In that case…” She threw her imaginary smoke bomb at her hooves. “Poof! Hey, stop looking at me. You can’t see me through the smoke.”

I hurriedly covered my eyes with a foreleg. “Jeez, Twilight, way to ruin the stealth mission.”

“You were watching her too!”

“Okay, I’m gone now,” Pinkie said.

Naturally, she wasn’t there when we uncovered our eyes.

Twilight’s eyelid twitched. “Let’s just get going.”

I chuckled. “You’re just mad because she might be better at teleporting than you.”

Author's Notes:

Another long chapter in Canterlot—I hadn't planned on it being this long, but I prefer just letting the words continue flowing instead of cutting stuff off. I wanted Gears to blunder diplomatic relations, but noooo, Celestia and Luna had to play it safe and only allow the ones Gears could safely blow off. It may seem like Shining and Cadence wandered off for snu-snu, but I've heard that table tennis is gaining popularity in Canterlot's upper echelons.

Just a quick note on my spelling of "Cadence." Yes, I'm aware it's usually spelled "Cadance," but "cadence" is actually a word, not to mention the English translation of "cadenza." It's vaguely similar to why I spell it "Owloysius" instead of "Owlowiscious," though "Cadance" makes me feel like nobody wanted to admit they misspelled it.

Next chapter: Gears may or may not accidentally light Shining Armor on fire.

Meeting with Shiny

“Twilight, are you going to be alright?” I asked as the two of us walked through the vaulted halls of Canterlot Castle. A quick trip back to the room had let me drop off the box with Dave’s award and grab my saddlebags. It was finally time to meet up with Shining, the part of the night that I was most excited for.

Twilight had vehemently denied that she was stomping, but her hoofsteps were louder than mine even though I was the one with the metal leg. “I’m fine.”

“Twilight…”

“I don’t know! I really don’t, Gears. This is all just so frustrating.” Twilight sighed. “It feels like I’ve never done anything on my own. Every last victory was a lie told to uphold the illusion of accomplishment.”

“Not all of them. I’m sure plenty of stuff is one-hundred percent you.”

“How can you be certain? How can you know that this conversation didn’t just happen because somepony other than us wanted it to?”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Twilight. Existential crises are so boring. Blah, blah, what’s the point of anything? We’re just going to die anyway, free will is an illusion, and it’s possible that everything is just a dream.”

“That’s rather depressing.”

“Only if you overthink it. You know what else is depressing? A kitten on fire. Dammit, now I’m sad.” I would have mentioned commercials that tried guilt-tripping people into donating to charity, but she wouldn’t have understood.

Twilight gasped and covered her muzzle. “That’s terrible!”

“Yeah, it’s something that’s actually depressing, as compared to just working yourself into a tizzy over stuff that’s futile or inevitable. If something bothers you, break it, fix it, or improve it.”

“Why is ‘break it’ first?”

“Because it’s usually the easiest.” It was usually the most entertaining too.

“And what do you do if none of those are an option?”

“Everybody copes in their own way. I prefer to ignore it and hope that it goes away.” My muzzle scrunched as I thought back on my life. “It’s not perfect, but it usually gets the job done.”

“That’s not a good way to go through life.”

“But at least I am going through life. Look, I’ve been in a situation where everything I did was orchestrated. It’s… not something I want to go through again.” My ears splayed to the sides, and Twilight’s quickly did the same as she realized what I was talking about. “This whole snafu with the princesses and nobles is nothing. No matter what comes of it, both of us have been through far worse.”

“We have, haven’t we?”

“Don’t let it beat you. Playing along isn’t the same as giving in.” I bumped her with my shoulder and gave a half-hearted grin. “Tell you what. Blow up some rocks with me after we get home. It’s super cathartic, and you wouldn’t need high explosives.”

“I don’t know if I’d enjoy it as much as you.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it. How much further is that room anyway? I thought you said it was close.”

“It was close when we were in the waiting room with Luna. Going back to your room to grab your saddlebags was out of our way.”

“I hope Shining Armor isn’t too bored. Gah, should I call him ‘Armor’ or ‘Shining?’ ‘Shining Armor’ is a mouthful, ‘Armor’ sounds weird, and ‘Shining’ also sounds weird because it’s a verb. Actually, you’re probably not the best pony to ask since you’re close enough to call him a nickname.”

Twilight giggled. “Sounds like you don’t have much of a choice other than getting close to him.”

I scoffed. “Please, Cadence already made that joke.”

She stopped giggling and blushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe you can ask Pinkie or Dash to give you lessons on not blundering into innuendo. Rarity might be a good choice as well with how much she watches what she’s saying. It’s not like I have any interest in romance right now. I have too much to do.”

Twilight smiled and nodded. “I know the feeling.” A few seconds later, she spoke again. “That’s the room up ahead on the right.”

“Great! I was starting to think you got us lost.”

“Gears, I spent years in this castle.”

“And most of it was spent reading. If you know so much about it, you should tell me where all the secret passages are.” A castle without secret passages was like a tourist trap without snowglobes.

“If I know where any are—and I’m not saying I do, because I don’t—why would I tell you?”

“Because as soon as I get the chance, I will yank on anything that could be a secret lever.” I’d also have to remember to check behind tapestries and tip over busts, though I didn’t feel like expending the effort to search for disguised buttons.

“Please don’t.”

“Did you ever find out what was behind the secret doors in the archives and library?”

Her eyes widened. “There was so much going on that I completely forgot about those! I need to make sure I ask Celestia tomorrow!”

I reached towards the door handle. “You still coming in to talk to him?”

Twilight shook her head slowly. “With everything we discussed on the way here… I have a lot to think about. I want to stay, but Shiny would be able to tell something is wrong.”

“I’m sure he’ll still know, especially if these doors aren’t very thick. You’re an open book, and older siblings are just intuitive like that.”

“I need time to think. I’m sorry.” She shook her head again and started walking away.

“Twilight,” I called after her, and she paused to look at me over her shoulder, “you’re still going to show up to talk later, right?”

“Last time I skipped one of our discussions, you fired one of your blasting rods at my bedroom window,” she deadpanned, completely ignoring the fact that I wouldn’t have been trying to get out of the dark if she’d shown up.

“So is that a yes?”

She rolled her eyes and started walking again. “I’ll see you later tonight, Gears.”

Once Twilight was out of sight, I looked the other way to make sure the hallway was clear. Seeing nobody, I pulled on a few of the closest lights. Nothing happened, and I sighed in disappointment. I’d heard from Pinkie that the old castle in the Everfree had loads of secret passages, though I didn’t see the point of hooking up traps to a pipe organ. Maybe for the atmosphere?

Checking my saddlebags one last time, I knocked on the door. It swung open, and I was met with the traditional Royal Guard greeting, an impassive stare and a monotone “State your name and business.”

I tilted my head, trying to look around him to spot Shining Armor. “Shouldn’t you guys be on the outside?”

“State your name and business.”

My hooves tingled, though the guard’s horn wasn’t glowing. “I understand this is what you’re supposed to do to everybody, but it’s so annoying. I’m Sterling Gears. I’m here to discuss thaumite with Shining Armor.”

A voice I recognized as Shining Armor’s called out from somewhere in the room, “She’s who she says she is—well, she’s not a changeling at least. Let her through.”

The tingly hooves must have been from a scan he’d snuck in while I was occupied with the guard. “It’s kinda rude to scan somebody without their permission. Invasion of privacy and all that jazz.”

The guards didn’t glance at me again as I walked past them. No furniture decorated the room except for a folding table with a few papers, one of which was a blueprint I couldn’t make out from where I was standing. The beige walls and hardwood floor were dull and bare, and it reminded me of a house whose owner had moved out.

“You’re carrying around several dozen kilos of a restricted material and look radically different than when I saw you a few hours ago. I was informed about the situation with your license, but I would have been suspicious even if you had it.”

“Suspect that someone is posing as me if they’re still gussied up.” With how badly Chrysalis had impersonated Cadence—and went unnoticed because bridezillas are common in Equestria apparently—I wouldn’t have been surprised if my imposter pretended to be a damsel in distress.

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I understand. Fool me once…”

Shining cleared his throat. “Yes, well, maybe we should get down to business. First things first, I need you to look over these schematics for the spell pattern you designed.”

It took less than a second to recognize the plans for blasting rods. “It looks fine to me. Is there something wrong with it?”

“The thaumite shorts out during construction. We have yet to produce a working model.”

Nodding my head towards my saddlebags, I said, “I could whip one up if you give me a couple minutes.”

“That should be fine. I’ll admit I’ve been curious to see you work with thaumite ever since Twilight mentioned a non-unicorn shaping it.”

I didn’t look up as I snipped off a length of thaumite and started sculpting it. “I really don’t get what’s so special about it.” My guess was that it had something to do with special talents or some other hokey Equestrian thing. Most of the new stuff was wondrous at first, but once I’d gotten used to it, some of the things that happened were just odd. I still avoided musical numbers like the plague.

“The discharge of magical energy running up your legs should be making you spasm, for starters.”

“It’ll still do that if I get a really big jolt.” For each thing magic had in common with electricity, there were several things that would make an electrician lock themselves behind a steel door while repeating Ohm’s Law like a mantra. Magic was much more forgiving to work with than electricity—I’d yet to injure myself with just the current, but I wasn’t going to test if a significant amount could cause permanent damage.

Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed as he jotted down a couple notes on the blueprint. “For as much trouble as you claimed to have with your hooves, you’re rather deft.”

I chuckled as I reached the halfway mark. “I’ve made several dozen of these. This was the first day I wore a dress. Not that hard to believe.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never worn a dress before today.”

“You don’t know me very well then.” I gave him a shrug and put the finishing touches on the blasting rod. It wasn’t my best work, but we didn’t have all night. “It’s done. Here.”

“That was quick.”

“I said I only needed a couple minutes.”

Shining looked took the blasting rod from me and looked it over. He pointed to one end of it and said, “I just touch these two parts to each other, right?”

“Yep. Just don’t point the other end at your face.”

He laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“It was how I figured out how it worked.” The first blasting rod in the history of Equestria had shot its creator in the face. Scientific progress either went “Boink!” or made a sound like a pony getting thrown into a bookshelf. “Oh, I haven’t quite figured out how to limit the energy used, so it uses the entire thing in one shot.”

Shining winced. “And it hit you in the face?” It was probably a good thing I didn’t plan on telling him I’d shot his sister with a really big one. Sure, she’d told me to do it, but overprotective brothers weren’t known for their logic. Also, I didn’t think he’d appreciate just how great a shot it had been.

“And launched me across the room. Good times.” I knew pegasi that spent less time in the air than I did. Pegasi other than Fluttershy. “If you’re not careful, the burnt out thaumite will get launched into your face too.”

He set down the blasting rod quickly but gently, like he was afraid of it blowing up the room if the slightest thing was bent out of place. “I don’t think the current design is suitable for widespread use.”

“Suit yourself. If I can get my hooves on the plans for magic-limiting spells or rings, I can probably work to lower the output. You guys have those, right?”

“Yes, but their creation process is a closely guarded secret.”

“Fine, I’ll make my own.”

Shining must have been warming up to me, because he rolled his eyes instead of glaring. Maybe he didn’t think I’d been serious.

I jumped a little as I glimpsed one of the guards out of the corner of my eye. I'd completely forgotten they were there. “Did you figure out everything you needed to?”

“I have a good idea of where things went wrong. We should be able to figure it out from here.”

“Why are you asking me anyway? I thought you weren’t Captain of the Royal Guard anymore.”

“I’m not, though I do remain in close contact with the current Captain.”

“Works for me. So, shield spells. What do?” It was his turn to scratch my back. Or would that have just been a backrub when hooves were involved?

“I don’t know one for temperature exactly, and I won’t share the anti-changeling shield for reasons that should be very obvious, but I can tell you just about everything else.”

“You mean you don’t use something like that to keep the Crystal Empire warm?”

“Of course not. The love of the crystal ponies channelled through the Crystal Heart keeps out the cold.” It wouldn’t have felt right if it had been that easy anyway.

“That is cheesier than a dime-store romance novel.” About cheddar. The thought of mushy one-liners milked for all they were worth made my stomach curdle.

He shrugged. “Whether you think it’s cheesy or not, it works.”

I thought for a moment. “Can you keep out different things with different shields? If I can find the difference and then find a way to substitute cold with whatever changes, it might do what I need it to. Actually, I might need two shields—one to keep the cold out and one to keep our heat in.” Whatever lay over the Crystal Mountains wasn’t just a simple absence of heat, and they wouldn’t be able to load up on mylar and drink cocoa.

It was his turn to think. Eventually, he said, “The matrices for the shields that protect against projectiles and impacts should be similar enough for what you want to do. The books I brought should have them too, just give me a moment to find them.”

“Is there any chance the book will just tell me what I want to know? One of the spells had to have come out second, and whoever created it would have figured that out already.”

“Good idea, but is it going to be that easy for you to translate it into a spell pattern?”

“Oh, right. I guess I’ll have to craft them after all.”

Shining levitated one of the books to me and opened it. “Here’s the one for impacts. You’ll see this one just as much as the other, but they’re not exactly common in everyday life.”

“Why can’t you just use the same spell for both?”

“They’ll both block physical objects, but the impact shield is terrible at stopping projectiles, and the projectile shield is the opposite. There is an all-purpose shield, but it’s very energy intensive and above most unicorn’s skill levels.”

I took the book from him and looked over the matrix. A lot of it would be easy to copy into thaumite, but there were some parts that looked like Escher had drawn them while on acid. “I can get this done in an hour, less if things go well.”

He nodded. “Feel free to ask if you have any questions. Do you mind if I watch?”

“Go ahead. I didn’t expect you to stare at the wall while I worked, though I don’t know if I’d be too much more interesting.” I shrugged, pulled down my goggles, and started estimating how much thaumite I’d need. If I started shaping it while it was still attached to the roll, I risked shorting out all of it, and that was a good way to end up with smoldering thaumite embedded in my flank. Maybe Shining Armor was only watching to see if I blew myself up.

Designing the spell pattern was easier than the one for the stun spell, but it had several more spots that I had to be cautious of. I often had to recheck the matrix to make sure I’d read it correctly. The room’s other occupants jumped as an extra loud spark arced between the thaumite and my muzzle, though for a moment, it felt like it had gone up my nose.

“Should I get the medical kit?”

I tried to tell him I was fine but quickly realized my face was too numb to speak anything resembling a language.

Shining scratched his head. “Was that a yes?”

With a shake of my head, I got back to work. I’d already anesthetized myself on accident once or twice, and it had never lasted longer than a few minutes, so I was more annoyed than worried. On the plus side, I still had feeling in my forelegs. I couldn’t tell if my mouth was hanging open, but it wasn’t like I had to stop working on the spell pattern.

The feeling in my mouth returned over several minutes, and the numbness was all but gone by the time I said, “I should be done in less than a minute. I have no idea what will happen, so you might want to pay attention in case I light myself on fire.” Luck went both ways.

With a critical eye, Shining looked over the spell pattern. “Are you sure you’re almost done? That doesn’t look much like the matrix.”

To most ponies, it would have looked like a pointlessly twisted mess. To me, it looked like a purposely twisted mess. Twilight would have been able to make sense of it too, but she was a grade-curve-wrecking freak of nature. If it behaved like the spell I’d copied, the shield would be a couple meters in diameter, plenty of space for me to avoid losing anything caught in the same space as the shield itself. There were failsafes, but putting too much faith in those was a good way to get dismembered.

After one final glance, I nodded. “Trust me, this is about as close as I can get without wasting all night.” Any adjustments that would have made it a more exact copy wouldn’t have done much either.

Shining bit his lip. “Is there actually a chance of you lighting yourself on fire?”

“I really doubt it. If it fails, it’ll probably just explode. If that happens, you’ll want to shield yourself anyway—even though most of the thaumite burns out, there’s still a surprising amount of shrapnel.”

An orange bubble appeared around Shining Armor, and he looked to one of the guards at the door. “Dismiss your shield. I will handle it.” The orange was quickly replaced by pink, and he turned back to me. “Go ahead.”

I was extra cautious as I went through the last few steps—I would have looked really incompetent if I’d made a mistake after telling them I was about done. “Just gotta twist these two together and…“ I grinned as a transparent, white-tinted bubble appeared around me. “Tadaa.”

Shining dropped his shield to get a closer look at mine. “Not bad. This would hold up fairly well, but I don’t think it’d last as long under a constant assault.”

The spell pattern gently glowed, its light barely noticeable in the well-lit room. If I’d read correctly, the shield used up very little energy—less than the spell used for those little light-balls, and the spell pattern for that one lasted months with good-quality thaumite—when it wasn’t being stressed. However, I needed to compare this spell pattern to the other one, so I couldn’t throw stuff at it until it burned out. “Any ideas for toughening it up? The cold won’t come in waves, and the shield will need to last for a while.” I looked at the shield again and laughed nervously. “So, air can get through this, right? I really should have asked before learning how to turn it off.”

“You won’t suffocate. Can you turn it off without cutting mana to it like a unicorn would?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” Undoing the final step was the most obvious solution, but a huge jolt of energy insisted I find another way.

“Are you alright? That was much larger than last time.”

“I’m fine.” Wisps of smoke curled off my hoof, though it looked and felt undamaged except for a small ache. Well, if the thaumite wanted to play rough, I wasn’t going to back down. I gingerly bent some of the spell pattern, and my eyes widened as the space between the shield and I shrank drastically. “Okay, I’m sorry!” Luckily, it returned to normal size when I put it back to normal.

Shining chuckled and stuck a leg through the shield, invading my personal bubble. “You would have been fine.”

For a moment, I’d thought I’d invented a way to compact the trash—a little bit of worry was completely reasonable. I tweaked the piece in the opposite direction and smiled as the shield expanded and Shining took a step back. One of the guards glared a little harder, but it was worth it. “You would have been fine.”

The shield did all sorts of things as I tried to figure out how to shut it off. One such adjustment increased the opacity, and I spent a few minutes playing with it until one of the guards cleared his throat. I made note of what changed the shield’s shape, as fitting it to the airship more closely would lower the amount of magic used. Just as I was running out of spell pattern to fiddle with, the bubble winked out with a popping sound that made me chuckle. Once I’d made sure I could turn it back on, I said, “Figuring everything out took a bit longer than I thought it would. How much more time do we have?”

“We should have a little time left. It’s getting quite late, but not so late that I have to leave. There may not be time for you to complete the other spell pattern, but I can still share a few things I’ve picked up over the years.”

I’d already cut more thaumite off the roll by the time he’d finished talking. “I can listen while I work, and a lot of this is the same as on the other shield.”

Enough of the pattern felt familiar that most of it was a breeze, and the few differences were much easier to sculpt. Shining Armor had a few useful tidbits of advice, but the vast majority of it was useless to me, as I didn’t have a glowstick jutting out of my forehead. He cut himself off with a grumble every time he realized I didn’t need to know about proper posture or breathing exercises. I finished the spell pattern midway through Shining’s tips on energy management—it would take some effort, creativity, and a bit of good fortune to make any of them work with thaumite though.

“I didn’t think the spell pattern would differ from the other one that much,” he said as he prodded the bubble, and I watched as a small area around his hoof lit up at his touch. Even though its function differed, the impact shield looked identical to the projectile shield.

I shrugged. “The patterns differ just as much as the matrices. You’re just not used to working with them.” I could tell the spell patterns apart, but if a pony was casting the shield, I would have needed to poke it to find out which was which.

“And you can turn this one off the same way?”

“Yep,” I said, switching the shield off.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to copy both spells tonight.”

“I’m really just following the instructions—they just take a bit of effort to read.”

“Still, I thought it would take another meeting or two to get this far. Do you still need these books?” He gestured at the small pile.

“Can I borrow them or at least get the titles so I can find a copy elsewhere? There’s a lot of other stuff in there I’m sure I could find a use for.” Oddly enough, I hadn’t been able to find much on shields in Twilight’s library, so it was unlikely the books would be available there.

“Feel free. When you’re done, either mail them back or ask Twilight to get them back to me. That reminds me, there is something I wanted to discuss with you before we part ways.” Shining looked to the guards and nodded towards the door. “Privately.”

I shifted uneasily as the two guards filed out of the room. Alarm bells were going off in my head, and I found myself wondering what he wanted. The spell patterns were within reach, but, I couldn’t rely on them without knowing just how much damage they could take—they would still hold up for a bit, but if he really wanted to cause me harm, overloading the thaumite would have been easy, especially with his knowledge of shields.

“Relax, I just want to talk.”

I could almost believe he’d meant it. “That does very little to make me feel better.”

“Well, I doubt either of us will enjoy the conversation very much, but there is something I absolutely need to know. What are your intentions towards my sister?”

The alarm bells stopped abruptly and confusedly asked each other what was going on. Meanwhile, I was laughing so hard that my sides were starting to hurt. How had he even come up with that idea? I’d expressed zero romantic interest in Twilight, and she’d shown just as much towards me. Honestly, couldn’t two friends regularly discuss things in private without being shipped? Sure, we’d usually met in the evening at either my home or hers, and we’d always tried to keep things fairly secret and not tell anybody else what we’d been doing—and it suddenly made complete sense that Shining Armor suspected I’d been riding the purple pony.

Still, I did not appreciate the accusation. “You caught me. I’m banging your sister.”

The walls trembled as he shouted, “What?”

“Relax, I was kidding. Probably went a little too far though.”

“You think?”

“You’re the one who’s tossing accusations without actually finding out what’s going on.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? Making small talk?”

Rubbing my temple, I sighed. “I have not engaged in sexual intercourse with the pony known as Twilight Sparkle, and I do not intend to. Is that clear enough?”

“So now she’s not good enough for you?”

What was this, a romcom? “No, I’m not playing that game. Save it for when you catch her snogging somebody in a broom closet. We’re friends. That’s it. Even though I doubt you’ll believe me when I say it, I am not trying to pull a fast one on you.” I stamped my hoof and glared at him. “Ask Twilight herself. If you’re as good a brother as you think you are, you know how terrible she is at hiding things.”

He started talking, but I continued right over him—I wasn’t done.

“Ask your wife. She’s good at that love thing, right? Hell, ask any of Equestria’s princesses. There’s no way you don’t have clearance to know what me and Twilight do.”

“I am only trying to protect her! You know full well that if I failed to keep my sister safe, I’d be a terrible brother.”

It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, it took everything I had not to punch him. At that moment, there was nothing else I would have wanted more, but charging headfirst into a fight hadn’t worked out so well last time—oh, and it was wrong or something like that. “Go fuck yourself with a rake, Shining Armor.”

He blinked in confusion. Apparently, nobody had ever told him to pleasure himself with lawn-care tools. It wasn’t that great of an insult, but it was still miles beyond the dreck ponies usually slung at each other. He sighed as he watched me pack my bags and balance the spell patterns on my back. “This has gotten out of hoof. I’m sorry for—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Goodbye.” The door slammed against the wall as I yanked it open and stormed down the hall, paying no mind to the guards that were no doubt staring after me.

He had no right implying that I’d been a terrible brother, and he’d had even less of a right bringing up Anne like he had. Maybe I should have punched him—I’d have been completely justified. The memories were riddled with holes, like a painting used for target practice, but they were still worth holding onto. I didn’t need to be reminded, as my thoughts had a habit of wandering in that direction whenever I wasn’t focused on something else.

Barging into a room that was hopefully mine, I dumped everything into a pile and made for the bathroom, where I splashed some water onto my face—hooves held a surprising amount of water. Taking a painkiller sounded like a fantastic idea even though they were for my leg, which was mostly behaving. Well, they were actually for pain, hence their name, so maybe I could take one. No, I really didn’t need one, and running out at an inconvenient time would be worse. Then again, I could just skip it next time I felt like taking one.

I just had to get my mind off of it and think about something else. Playing with thaumite could work, and the roll was sitting patiently in my saddlebags.

The bottle of painkillers rattled as it hit the carpet. Had I really been so eager to get out of there that I’d shoved the roll of thaumite into the wrong bag? I hesitated before stowing the pills and getting to work. Yep, good ol’ thaumite, keeping my attention on something productive.

After the thaumite exploded a second time, it looked like a break was a necessity if I wanted to get anything done, but I didn’t want to cave and take a painkiller. The doctors hadn’t mentioned anything about addictiveness, so I wasn’t too worried, but I didn’t need to take a break to function. They’d also said there was a chance the pain would bother me for the rest of my life, and if that happened, there was a lot more medication in my future. Maybe taking a break really was the thing to steady my nerves, and that’s what I really needed.

Alcohol was good for steadying nerves too, right? I didn’t need to get drunk, just calm things enough that I stopped launching spent thaumite around the room. It would also get my mind off the painkillers, as I knew better than mixing the two—give me some credit here. There had to be a minibar somewhere in the room.

Every spot I searched was a disappointment. I found nothing other than a note from Pinkie that said “Springing Spike. Keep Twilight busy. Destroy this note.” After tearing it apart and flushing it, I checked every spot again. Heck, I even checked for false bottoms in drawers and false panels elsewhere. On the plus side, the room was very clean—the maids were very thorough.

The distinct flash and popping sound of teleportation barely made me look up. “Hey, Twilight, how about that privacy?”

“I’m sorry, I just—Shining told me about earlier and—”

Just hearing his name made me grit my teeth. “Your brother’s a cunt.”

She gasped. “Sterling! That is completely uncalled for!”

“Unless he lied about what happened, that was pretty light.” Sometimes, I felt bad for teaching Twilight all sorts of new words. Everybody else in Ponyville just thought I was making words up.

Twilight sighed. “I don’t want to talk to your hindquarters. Will you please come out here? What are you doing anyway?”

Despite not being under anything, I managed to hit my head as I stood. “Looking for the minibar.”

“In the bathroom?”

Rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head, I hobbled out of the bathroom. “I already looked everywhere else.”

“You’re not going to find anything. Why would there be a minibar in any of the guest rooms?”

“Because Canterlot sucks enough that most visitors need a drink. Give me a boost so I can look on top of the bed’s canopy.”

“Even if there was a minibar, the chance that it’s up there is practically zero. Please, listen to yourself for a moment.”

“I really don’t want to. That’s why I’m looking for booze. Or I was, anyway.”

Twilight sighed and sat on a cushion. “Shining Armor didn’t know. Gears, I am unsure why he didn’t know, and he was earnestly confused as to why you reacted so negatively. I penned the letter myself, but he never received it.” How could she believe that?

“He’s lying.” There were other cushions, but lying on the bed was far more comfortable.

“Please, trust me. He was mortified when I told him.”

That took a lot of the wind out of my sails. I’d asked her to trust me plenty of times. “Then why didn’t he come tell me himself?”

“Because I asked him to wait until tomorrow. Also, he didn’t know which room you were staying in. I wanted to talk to you first, and you needed time to cool down.” Twilight had a point—I probably would have slugged him if he’d knocked. “As soon as I was certain he was headed back to his room, I teleported here to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine. A little ticked but otherwise fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just think it’s silly that he thought the two of us were knocking hooves.” It had nothing to do with ponies being an entirely different species, though it was going to be incredibly awkward for me the first time around.

It was still too easy to get Twilight blushing. “Yes, well, you and I both know that’s not what you were actually upset about. Do you want to talk about it?”

The corners of my mouth tugged down. “Not really.”

Twilight grumbled into her hoof, “I don’t know why I even asked. You really should talk to me about it though. You rarely talk about anything that happened… before.”

“There’s not much to talk about that I didn’t mention to Celestia the first time I visited Canterlot.” Granted, spending a few months in Equestria had given me time to reflect on just how dissimilar to Earth it really was—for every thing that felt familiar, something else was alien enough to remind me that I wasn’t on the world I’d grown up in.

“Do you miss it?” she asked, moving from her cushion and lying next to me.

“Twilight, I missed it before I even came to Equestria.”

“Tell me about what you miss then. You’ll feel better.”

If I hadn’t known Twilight so well, I would have assumed she was just pumping me for information. The information was still something she wanted, but at that moment, it was second to my well-being. She’d given out plenty of her secrets during our meetings, and I’d intended to talk about mine eventually—I’d just never gotten around to it. I sighed and quietly asked, “Where do you want me to start?”

There was no rush for paper and quills, just a “hmm” as she thought. “Did you have any pets?

“I had fish.” I’d owned a guinea pig when I was a kid, but he’d somehow gotten outside and hidden underneath the lawnmower.

“How many?”

“Ten-ish? I never really counted.” All I had to do was feed them. Zero bonding.

“Sorry, but you don’t seem like the type to have fish for pets.”

“Oh, they weren’t mine. A friend of mine left them with me while he went out on vacation.” He’d only picked me because nobody else was available. We’d gotten the aquarium into my apartment without any casualties, which had to be the result of black magic, since fish were easier to kill than a child’s sense of wonder. “He never came back for them.”

“Why would he just abandon his pets like that?”

“Nah, he slipped off a balcony. Fell sixteen stories and didn’t bounce.”

Twilight gasped, covering her muzzle with her hooves. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was kind of an asshole.” Owed me five bucks and a pair of pants too. “But I did keep any of the fish from dying until I got stuck in that hospital.”

“It sounds like you took good care of them. What were their names?”

“Uh, Green-and-Orange Fish One, Green-and-Orange Fish Two, Stupid Fish that Runs into the Side of the Tank…” It wasn’t like they’d been wearing nametags—it would have been difficult to read stickers that small anyway.

“Alright, I get it.”

“The algae eater probably lasted longer than the rest of them, but I never had the chance to check. By the time I worked my way home, the apartment building was a pile of ashes. That’s why I’m glad my current house is made mostly out of rocks. Should be quite a bit harder to burn down.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes but remained silent. After a few seconds, she arched a brow. Honestly, I’d already said it earlier—how often did she think I’d remind her? “I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your home. It must have been hard on you.”

“It didn’t make me happy, but it wasn’t like I fell to my knees and cried. That would have made a lot of noise, and I’d just ditched a huge crowd of zombies. Keep in mind this was before I had access to any of the good stuff.”

“Stealth seems like it would be the best option in that situation.”

“Yeah, but plan B was more cathartic if more difficult to supply, though I have to wonder how much of it was what I’d learned on my own and how much was Grue trying to ensure that I survived long enough.” I wondered if it’d had an actual name, but quickly realized it was probably something unpronounceable by anything with three-dimensional vocal cords. I also realized I really didn’t care. “Plan C involved running away until A or B was possible.”

“I still think Equus could benefit from anything you provide, even if the benefit wasn’t immediately apparent.”

“Most of what I’ve learned is pretty much useless in Equestria. There’s no infrastructure for most of the materials, and the more delicate electronics would probably malfunction because of the slight differences in this universe’s physics. Not to mention it’d be silly if I memorized random schematics, and I can’t just regurgitate Wikipedia quotes to make myself look smarter. The nitroglycerin was one of the few things I’m certain is from my early chem classes. It was a stroke of luck that I kept that information.”

“We still have to try. That can wait until later though. We got a little off topic. What else do you miss?”

“Eating a bowl of breakfast cereal while watching cartoons before I headed off to work or class.” If I’d been watching the news instead, I probably would have known better than going to the hospital. “Internet, fingers, Saran Wrap, popping bubble wrap, internet, omnivorism, living in a heliocentric solar system, internet… my family.”

Twilight didn’t say anything, but she nodded and motioned for me to go on, the same small smile still on her muzzle.

“My mom and dad died before the zombies came. Plane crash, if you’re curious. Heh, my mom hated flying—always said that she couldn’t trust anything that big moving so quickly. She was allergic to horses. And dogs, cats, and rabbits. I don’t know if Equestrian ponies fall under that category when it comes to allergies, but it’s not like she’d have the same allergies if she got a new body by coming here. And can you start talking now, since I’m starting to ramble?”

“You’re doing fine, Gears. Just keep going.”

Twilight listened to my rambling for a few hours, adding a few comments of her own here and there, but she was mostly content to let me spew anything that came to mind. To be honest, I didn’t mind talking as much as I’d thought I would have, even when talking about my family led to discussing Anne. If Twilight hadn’t kept me talking, there was a good chance I would have broken down, trapped in my own thoughts like an innertuber who’d gotten too close to Charybdis.

My reaction to Shining Armor’s comment still felt justified, but after Twilight and I had been talking for a while, I wanted to apologize. Sure, he had it coming with the whole “protective brother” schtick, but I’d only lashed out because it had sounded like a personal attack. It wasn’t hard to see where his suspicions had come from—Twilight and I lay right next to each other, our eyelids sagging from a long day, and we’d fallen asleep like that a few times before. The lights were still on, but that was something both of us coped with for the ease of mind it brought, as fewer dancing shadows meant fewer flickering apparitions.

Once she’d dozed off, I slipped off my prosthetic as quietly as I could. I couldn’t sleep in the thing, but it was even more uncomfortable to see that pained look in Twilight’s eye whenever she was reminded of it.

Sighing, I made myself comfortable and closed my eyes. Sunrise wasn’t too far away, but there was still a little time left to sleep. Hopefully, we weren’t teleporting home directly after brunch—such a waste of food. Too much drama happened in Canterlot for my tastes, and I would gladly take whatever bizarre thing happened around Ponyville. That place had to be a Hellmouth.

“Thanks, Twilight,” I muttered. Sleep came a bit easier that night.

Author's Notes:

Gears can be a little oblivious at times. Tiny bit more swearing in this one, but I think it's an understandable amount considering Gears's mood.

You're probably tired of me saying it, but I'm sorry for the delay. Be honest, how many of you thought I was gone? I really wasn't kidding about being tired all the time. I have a lot of sleep issues (no apnea though).

I'm sorry for any extra Ds in this chapter that I might have missed while editing. That key is a little stuck at the moment.

Emergency Mechanic Replacement

Only a few hours after we’d returned to Ponyville, I had decided it was finally time to break in my pick, mostly to keep my mind off of how awkward the breakfast had been. Shining had apologized for the accidental insult, and I’d apologized for reacting poorly, though I still thought my response had been relatively mellow.

Digging was a fairly odd hobby, but I already had the equipment and lived near diamond dogs—it made more sense than painting or macrame. Claiming a secluded section of tunnel, I’d quickly learned how slow digging with a pick actually was. Holding the handle hadn’t bothered my teeth, but my neck had been sore for about a week. Still, it was a surprisingly relaxing activity—easy to get into a rhythm and lose myself in the sound of a pick striking the earth. Even clearing the rubble didn’t take me out of zen.

The diamond dogs weren’t sure if they were supposed to be embarrassed that, for completely understandable reasons, their beta was the slowest-digging pack member. Well, one of the reasons was barely understandable—Pinkie could tear through the ground at a decent pace, and she’d insisted it was because she’d grown up on a rock farm and that her sisters could pulverize stone with their hooves. If that were the case, Marble, Limestone, and Maud were ponies I’d want on my side in a barfight.

After a month of semi-regular digging, swinging the pick barely bothered my neck, and the activity was little more than an excuse to get some exercise while I thought about possible avenues of research. My work on a decent shield pattern was progressing well, though the current versions of temperature shielding did next to nothing to block out the cold from the everfrost. On the plus side, it had been surprisingly easy to fit the shield to the right size once the architects had decided on the final dimensions.

A splotch of pink bounded towards me. “Gears! I haven’t seen you in forever! What’d I miss?”

I sat down my pick and pushed my goggles up. “You left yesterday, Pinkie.”

“But it felt like forever. Maybe not literally—leave my hyperboles alone, Gears. I still need to know what I missed though. It’s not like I have a secretary. Oh, that’s a good idea. Can we get secretaries?”

“Would I still have to do paperwork?” There was so much paperwork. I didn’t think Luna had been kidding when she’d mentioned it but my house contained more parchment than furniture.

“Of course! Paperwork is fun! Oh wait, I’m thinking of polo.”

“Then what’s the point? Anyway, how was Manehattan?”

“It was great! I got to pretend I worked in a sweatshop! And Rarity found a key.”

“A key to what?”

“A lock, silly. What else would you use it for?”

“What lock?”

“I think his name is pronounced ‘Matlock’.”

It was tempting to facehoof hard enough to shoot my muzzle out the back of my skull, a merciful death. “No, what lock does the key fit?”

She tilted her head. “What key?”

“You said that Rarity found a key in Manehattan. What lock does that key fit?”

“Ohh, now I get it. You really need to be more specific sometimes, Gears. I don’t know what lock it fits in. That ruins the mystery. Speaking of mysteries, I need to go hide in one of Twilight’s bookshelves before it’s too late.”

“Alright. Tell her I said ‘hello’.” I wanted to join her and see how Twilight reacted to the surprise, but I was worse at hiding than a whale covered in sequins.

As she bounded off, I rubbed my forehead, though it never eased away the pain. I’d built up a healthy resistance to Pinkie-induced headaches, but sometimes she stocked armor-piercing insanity. It was about time for me to stop digging for the day anyway—there was a paperwork fort in need of a dining hall.

Three lefts and a right brought me to the surface. Diamond dogs had great instincts for building tunnels that wouldn't collapse, and with the reinforcement on the major ones, there was even less of a chance of a cave-in. I was proud to say I hadn’t gotten the slightest bit lost in two weeks, though a lot of that may have been because we’d finally finished marking all of the major tunnels and most of the minor ones. The occasional visitor still got lost, but that was to be expected with tourists.

As my eyes readjusted to the sunlight, I noticed Daring Do walking away from my front step. “Oi, Daring, I’m over here.” I waved as she turned my way and jumped into the air. Unfortunately, she once again wasn’t wearing her pith helmet.

It wasn’t long before she landed before me. “Hello, Sterling. How are you today?”

In serious need of a painkiller, but she didn’t need to know that. I gestured towards my home and started walking. “Not bad. What brings you here?”

“There’s been an… issue with our current mechanic.”

It took a moment for the name to surface. “Smoky Sparks?”

“Yes. He’s been missing for three weeks.” The stress in her voice was plain to see.

“Well, that would explain why they haven’t shown up yet. Why am I just hearing about this now?”

Daring sighed. “Because I’ve been too busy searching everywhere for a replacement.”

“They could have sent someone else. Or a letter. I’d even take a carrier pigeon. So you’re here because you found one?”

“No. I’m here because I didn’t find one. As of right now, the expedition does not have a mechanic available for training with thaumite.”

I nodded. It wasn’t too hard to see where this was going. “And you want me to sign up.”

“Yes.”

I let her into the house first. My home did a decent job of retaining heat, so it was a little cozy when we stepped inside. Maybe some of the paperwork could be used as insulation, but come winter, I’d need to use the wood-burning furnace. “Watch your step. I might have missed a couple thaumite chunks from last night.” It still hurt to step on pointy things if they jabbed the frog.

“Wow, even I don’t let the paperwork pile up that much.”

“I don’t let it pile up. This is just the stuff that’s not worth paying attention to.” The only reasonable explanation was that the mailbox pulled stuff from some sort of parallel junk-mail universe. My e-mail account back home had received less spam.

“Most just throw it out.”

“Yeah, but I’m entertaining myself with recycling. I get to be amused and save the environment.”

“Why would you need to save the environment? It’s doing fine last I checked.”

Oh, right. Silly Equestria and its low-tech, pollution-free cities. A little smog was part of a balanced diet. “Uh, it’s never too early to start?”

“Right, I’ll take your word for it. So, about the expedition…”

I shook my head. “I can’t be away for that long.”

“It’ll only be a few days. A week at most.”

A week was far better than the month I’d expected, but it just wasn’t worth it to be away that long. Sure, the pack would probably be fine, even if Pinkie wound up going off on an adventure with the rest of the Mane Six, but something was bound to come up. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Too much to do here.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be asking you if there were any other options, but most outright refused once they heard about the extreme cold.”

“I can’t imagine freezing to death would be a good selling point, but it’s not like I was going to design a pattern that barely worked.” Honestly, it was a little insulting that they’d even think that.

“The rest were either too busy or didn’t want to learn from you for various reasons. You didn’t make a lot of friends last time you were in Canterlot.”

“Are you saying this is my fault?”

“No, I’m saying an unusual amount of mechanics are paying attention to Canterlot’s upper class.”

Canterlot was still my least favorite city, and it seemed unwilling to redeem itself. “Can’t the expedition just wait until they find another mechanic? I’ll still teach them, but I really shouldn’t be going that far from my pack.”

“Launching at the planned date is incredibly important. Weren’t you informed that launch conditions won’t be this perfect again for eighty years?”

“No, no I wasn’t.” Yet again, there was crucial information that nobody had bothered to tell me. It was finals week all over again.

“The scheduled launch date is the only time that the cold will lessen long enough for us to slip through.”

“I can probably make the spell pattern survive any amount of cold.” Even after working on it for this long, it was a little weird to think of cold as anything other than the absence of heat.

“With how little of it we can recreate for testing, nobody wants to rely on the shield until they’re sure it can hold up to the cold at its weakest.”

“Zero faith.”

“More like reasonable caution. That’s why they don’t want to go anywhere without somebody to keep an eye on the thaumite.” Bunch of lightweights. “I’ll keep looking, but we’re running out of time. Anybody we find also has to be trained in arctic survival and proper airship procedures.”

“That’s more time I can’t spare.” And a course on airship procedures sounded really boring. Monotone history professor levels of boring.

“Like I said before, I wouldn’t be asking if there were other options. If we can’t launch on the scheduled date, it will be decades before we get another chance. You and I will probably be dead.”

Growing old as a pony instead of a human—that was an interesting thought. Then again, growing old was an interesting thought in the first place, as I’d already passed my personal life expectancy with a rude comment and a flippant gesture. How far would the pack get in my lifetime? How many spell patterns would I develop? What would I have for dinner? There were so many questions I wanted to see answered.

“Sterling?”

I cleared my thoughts by shaking my head. “Sorry, lost in thought. You know, I haven’t even finished the spell pattern yet. Wouldn’t all that training further cut into its development?”

“Yes. It wouldn’t be easy, but I am confident you will succeed.”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to finish designing the spell pattern, go through not one but two training courses, manage a pack of diamond dogs, and still have time to sleep and eat?” Not to mention Ponyville was about due for another “delay.” A lot of the workers weren’t native to the area and had a lot of trouble getting back on schedule after something as little as a timberwolf sighting, which I had completely missed because it had happened the one night I was out partying with Vinyl.

“Two months is plenty of time.”

“I still can’t afford to be away for a week.” Not with the sheer amount of conmen waiting for the chance to swoop in.

“And there’s no way you can leave instructions for that time?”

“Not unless I had some sort of instant-communication device.” I groaned and buried my face in my hooves. “Like the mailbox Discord gave me.” I felt bad for constantly doubting he was just being benevolent, but it was still too convenient. He had to have known something like this was going to happen, right?

“Discord gave you a mailbox?”

“Yep, for keeping him company. Also gave me a maid’s outfit… and I’m not sure why I told you that.”

Daring smirked. “What you do in the bedroom is your own business, though I’m always up for a good story.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It sounds like your pack would be just fine for a week, and it’s not likely it’ll even last that long. Bring that mailbox—weird item, by the way, but I’ve seen far weirder—and you’ll be able to issue instructions as needed. I’d consider it a personal favor if you signed on. While you’re training, I’ll still look for somebody else to fill the position, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re running out of time. I—I’ll think about it.” She’d raised a few good points, but leaving wasn’t an option.

Sending mail could work, but it wouldn’t be the same as actually saying what I wanted done. Like she’d said, Daring wouldn’t give up looking, but if she couldn’t find anyone and the expedition fell through, it’d be my fault. Well, it wouldn’t actually be my fault, but I’d sure as hell feel like it. The journey would get pushed back eighty years because I was unwilling to trust Pinkie and the rest of the pack to not implode without my presence.

Daring frowned but didn’t protest. “It’s a big decision, but I need an answer today. I’ll be in Ponyville all day. Find me there when you decide. I’ll show myself out.” Before I could say another word, she was gone, leaving me to think. The mailbox still made that annoying noise whenever it received a letter, but I barely paid attention to it anymore.

The cold wouldn’t be a risk once the pattern was finished—this wasn’t something that I’d even consider half-assing. The chance of the thaumite failing was almost negligible, but even I’d want an expert keeping an eye on it. Where the hell could Smoky Sparks have gone? My reputation couldn’t be that bad.

It took two hours of thinking before I realized I’d already made my decision. My leg ached the entire time, as I didn’t want the painkillers to influence my choice. Some weren’t going to be happy, but I had to do it. This was not how my day was supposed to go—it was supposed to be peaceful, just me, a painkiller or two, and Fort Kickass.

Daring Do looked out of place in Sugarcube Corner, her stern look clashing with the cozy decor. A cupcake sat on a small plate in front of her, and she stared at it as if expecting it to jump into her mouth of its own accord.

Mrs. Cake watched the scene worriedly, ready to take cover behind the counter if things got too weird. She always looked weary, like she was ready to slip into a coma the moment she was sure she’d get away with it. “Oh, Sterling, Pinkie isn’t here today. She said something about a trip with family, but I couldn’t understand most of it. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks, Mrs. Cake. I won’t be here very long.” I sat across from Daring and debated taking the cupcake just so she’d stop staring. “It doesn’t do tricks, Daring.”

She glanced up at me before returning her gaze to the cupcake. “I’m trying to figure out why it’s so delicious. Have you come to a decision?”

My nod was shaky from the last-minute doubts, but I beat them down. “I’m in.”

Author's Notes:

I'm sure you all saw this coming. It was a big choice, but once she'd given it some thought, it was more important that she go on the expedition. However, let's not forget the most important reason to send Gears on a trip to the north: she would look adorable in a parka.

Shorter chapter this time around, but this was important enough to get its own chapter. At least it's not another Canterlot chapter, eh? The time skips might be off-putting to some of you, but it's the better option for the stuff that deserves no more than a sentence or two.

Next chapter will likely be a bit longer and contain candy. On the subject of candy, Nov. 1 is the best holiday, because clearance Halloween candy tastes like regular Halloween candy.

Also, I am working on a secret project, though it won't be done for months at least. This will not have a large impact on my update speed for this story.

Scootaloo the Zombie

One of the things I’d picked up during my first few months as Beta was not to hold meetings within two hours of any meal. Hungry diamond dogs were not attentive or pleasant, and full diamond dogs usually started snoring halfway through. Not wanting to put it off, I spread the word that there would be a packwide meeting in the early afternoon. Pinkie was still out doing… Pinkie things, but this was urgent enough that I couldn’t wait for her to get back.

In the main cavern, there was a small area off to the side where we’d set up a lectern—pony-sized, of course, though we did have a taller one in storage. I didn’t call meetings often, so the pack knew it was something important. Still, it was surprising to see nearly every pack member show up on time.

I cleared my throat to get their attention. “One of the mechanics for the expedition has gone missing. Unfortunately, it was the one I was supposed to train, and it appears that they will be unable to find another candidate in time. I will be leaving with the expedition when the ship launches.”

My ears throbbed as the pack protested all at once, yelling to be heard over one another and creating a din audible in the Griffon Kingdoms. It had been twenty-two days since our last noise complaint, but the count would likely be reset before evening and ruin our chances of breaking our record of twenty-three days.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished!” The acoustics helped my shout cut through the crowd like a hot knife through the butter-flavored lie called margarine. “I’ll only be gone a week, and you’ll still be able to contact me. Just one week. Seven days. One-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours. Wait… yeah, I did the math right.”

Panic slowly turned into reluctant acceptance. They would follow me come hell or high water, but their loyalty wasn’t completely blind.

“How do we know if you be—will be safe?” Most of the diamond dogs no longer spoke like they were reading a text message word for butchered word. The instructor we’d hired was proving to be a worthwhile investment, even though he took sadistic pleasure in correcting me every time I said “who” instead of “whom”.

“The ship is an Equestrian engineering marvel with a fully-stocked crew. I’ll be very safe.” Come to think of it, the Titanic’s passengers had probably thought something similar. On the plus side, it would be difficult to hit icebergs that high in the air.

The pack exchanged looks. “You get into trouble a lot.”

I really couldn’t deny that, but it was Equestria’s fault for putting it in my way. “Only slightly more than the average individual.”

My ears clamped against my head as the cavern shook with laughter, loose dust and small rocks falling from the ceiling like spare change from an upturned pocket. Even though the place was sturdier than most bunkers, diamond dogs could get loud enough to drown out a jet engine.

“Beta needs protection,” one dog said as the chuckles died out. “Beta protects pack. Pack protects Beta.” Several others voiced their agreement.

“There’s not going to be a lot of room on the airship, and any dog that goes requires training and supplies, the latter of which take up even more space. And I don’t really have much of a say regarding the crew.”

“Just one. A guard is good… what was it called, tinsurance?”

“Insurance.”

He nodded. “Yes, that.”

“I told all of you where I was going, right? Airship means we’re going to be far from the ground.”

“That’s why you need a guard.” Sometimes I hated how well they worked together in discussions.

Realizing they weren’t going to let up, I sighed. “Alright, I’ll look into it, but no promises.”

The cavern shook again as they cheered.

“I’ve got nothing else to bring up tod—oops, almost forgot. Whoever’s been scratching lewd pictures into the walls of the lower tunnels better knock it off. It was well-drawn, but Cheerilee’s field trip almost found it before I did.” After a few moments, I couldn’t think of anything else that needed to be addressed. “Okay, now you can all go back to whatever you were doing. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

——

Surprisingly, there was little objection to me bringing a guard of my own on the expedition as long as I provided the rations and made sure they went through the proper training. The next batch of courses started in a week, and one unlucky diamond dog would get to suffer Canterlot with me. With that mess looming ahead, I wanted to get as much work done beforehand as possible.

For three days, I ran myself ragged trying to work on everything that had been dumped on my plate. Actually, it may have been four days. Or maybe five, since Twilight had said she hadn’t heard from me in a week and wanted to make sure I hadn’t died in an embarrassing position. True friendship right there.

A glance out the window showed nothing but a blackened sky dotted with light. The temperature fell a little every day, though not enough that bundling up would be necessary for another couple months. A flask of silver rock ale—my favorite—kept the slight chill away, but every gulp meant a longer wait before it was safe to take painkillers. I turned back to my workbench and nudged the pill bottle further away before getting back to the spell pattern in front of me.

Thaumite was best-suited for continuous effects that didn’t need to be directed after casting, so it worked extremely well for shields. However, it could still be overloaded if the shield was put under too much strain, and while unicorns would just get a headache and a little backlash from a failed spell, thaumite had a tendency to explode. Honestly, if it doesn’t have a chance to injure you, it’s just not worth doing.

We had a shield that could keep out cold for an entire airship. Increasing the efficiency enough to make it nearly impossible to drain the batteries or overload the pattern wasn’t difficult enough to stop me. Shielding the thaumite itself from the unique magic the cold and everfrost gave off, however, was a puzzling hurdle.

My ears swivelled towards the sound of hushed voices and hoofsteps approaching my front door. The voices weren’t loud enough to be recognizable, but there were at least two of them. They sounded like fillies too—oh, this wasn’t going to end well.

The knocking started just as I reached the door. What were they doing out here anyway?

As soon as the door opened, they said, “Nightmare Night, what a fright. Give us something sweet to bite.”

I stared at them in confusion. Was it really Nightmare Night? That would explain the cheap plastic pails half-full of candy they carried in their mouths. Would also explain why Apple Bloom was dressed as a scarecrow, Sweetie Belle was having trouble moving in a pumpkin outfit, and Scootaloo—

The fetid smell of death filled my nostrils as I looked upon what had become of Scootaloo. Shredded flesh decorated bite wounds like bloody ribbons. Milky eyes stared into my core as her askew mouth slowly worked up and down.

This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t be happening, but it was standing in front of me, literally on my doorstep. The past resurfaced with the screams of the dying and the moans of their undead pursuers. How far had it already spread? I know I’d been focused for the last few days, but how could I have missed something this big?

The gurgling call from Scootacorpse snapped me out of my ill-timed thoughts. I didn’t know why she hadn’t already attacked, but I shoved her away so she wouldn’t get the chance. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom held onto their pails as I picked them up by their napes and tossed them inside, ignoring their protests.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Apple Bloom shouted as the door slammed shut.

“Keeping her from getting in!” Barricading was a skill you never really forgot, and unlike riding a bicycle, I could still do it as a pony. The zombie was already pounding on the other side of the door, moaning about its denied meal. “Were either of you bit?”

“What?”

“Did she or anybody else bite you? I need to know.” Please say no.

Sweetie Belle backed up a few steps. “Just Opal. Can we go now? I think I hear my sister calling.”

Apple Bloom frowned at me. “Yeah, let us go!”

I sighed with relief. Even if they had been infected, it would have been difficult for me to put either of them down. Cruel? Maybe, but zombie children are just as dangerous and they can fit in tinier places. “No. You’re safe, and you’re going to stay that way if you stick by me.”

“You’re scaring Sweetie.”

“I’m not scared!” Sweetie Belle shouted from somewhere within the paperwork fort.

“Fear is good. You should be scared about what’s outside.” The windows would need to be barricaded next, but there were a few other things that needed to be taken care of first.

“Then why’d you leave Scootaloo out there?”

Of course they didn’t understand it wasn’t Scootaloo out there. Hell, I’d met plenty of adults that’d had trouble realizing their friends and family were gone despite things that looked like them chowing on the neighbors. “That’s not Scootaloo anymore.”

“Oh for—it’s Nightmare Night! She’s wearing a costume!” Apple Bloom shook her candy bucket for emphasis.

“I’ve met plenty who thought the same thing. They didn’t last very long.” After one last inspection of the barricade, I hobbled to one of the back windows and took the emergency horn off its stand. “Cover your ears, girls. This is going to get loud.”

Even if they didn’t believe me about the undead, they knew what I held and covered their ears.

There was no doubt the noise would attract every zombie within a large radius, but I had to warn the pack. They’d close up the mountain and keep an eye out for suspicious behavior. They hadn’t been trained specifically for zombies, but even if a few had already made it inside, sealing the entrances was the best option. On their home field, they had food, weapons, and the ability to just dig an escape tunnel if things got too bad.

Once I was done sending out alerts, I’d lead the surviving members of the CMC through the escape tunnel hidden beneath my pantry and seal it behind us. The pack wouldn’t even come looking for me unless I was still missing after a few hours, and we’d be in the caves long before then.

“Whoops, wrong horn.” After switching out the giant-spider alarm, which the pack had strongly insisted was a necessity much to my horror, I took in a big lungful of air, clamped down my ears as tight as possible, and blew like a kazooist competing with a tubist. Ears ringing and head throbbing, I wrote “earplugs—ask Octavia for recommendations if alive” on my shopping scavenging list.

“Sorry. Forgot it was that loud.”

“What?” Sweetie Belle shouted as she rubbed her ears.

“Where’s Apple Bloom?”

“What?” she shouted again.

I waved my hoof at her and headed back towards the front door. Yep, Apple Bloom was there, trying to remove the barricade by pushing in the wrong spot. “Don’t do that.”

“When my sister gets here—”

“She’ll be glad you’re safe. Apple Bloom, look at me.” I waited a few moments for her to listen, but she only returned to her escape attempt. “Please.”

She turned around reluctantly and gave me another frown. “Zomponies or whatever you called them aren’t real, Miss Gears.”

I half-heartedly chuckled. “Yeah, I do have to sound pretty crazy right now, don’t I?”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Yep. You sound like my Uncle Idared talking about changelings, except with less screaming. And I’ve met changelings. And—”

“Rhetorical question.” I sighed. “The point is that even though you think they aren’t real, I’ve dealt with them. I’ve seen what they can do. Can’t you smell them? Can’t you hear the moaning and screaming?”

“Uh, no?”

How could she not? Not hearing the screams and moans was possible if her ears were still ringing from the horn, but not noticing the smell was ridiculous—it was everywhere! I jumped as something moaned and beat against the door. “I’ll tell you more later. I need to send a few letters. Hopefully the princesses can stop this before it gets too far.”

Fortunately, Apple Bloom scampered off to find Sweetie Belle instead of continuing her efforts to escape. I should have already been writing all the letters, but I’d had to make sure one confused filly wasn’t going to let in dozens of zombies. The mournful cacophony outside was every bit as bone-chilling as I remembered. No, I needed to focus. There was so much that needed to be done if I wanted to keep the promise I’d made to myself after my last adventure. On the plus side, I’d always been curious what a blasting rod would do to a zombie.

A spike of pain shot through my leg as I sat down in front of the table where I handled mail. The injury was going to make things difficult, and taking painkillers was too risky. With a grunt of frustration, I crossed out my first attempt at a warning letter. Even though I was in a hurry, a warning was useless if they couldn’t read it. I settled on “Twilight, help! Zombies!” Hopefully she’d understand.

For whatever reason, my mailbox disliked it when I didn’t use envelopes, even if I appeased it with extra stamps. It reminded me of its preferences by slamming its door on my leg. “Wait for me to take my hoof out, you prick! Now’s not the time!”

Sweetie Belle giggled as she watched from the fort. “Are you fighting with your mailbox?”

“No, it just gets ornery if I don’t give it the right stuff.” It also got pissy if I didn’t send any mail for more than a day—found that out when Celestia had sent me a letter asking why I’d mailed her my grocery list.

“Sounds like Opal if she doesn’t get her favorite brand of cat food. Why do you have a magic mailbox for a pet?”

The door closed, the flag spun widdershins twice, and the letter was off to my favorite purple pony princess.

“It’s not my…” I’d fed it and paid attention to it, and it had a mind of its own whenever I wasn’t looking. It was either a pet or an ugly child, and I was sure Equestria didn’t have a race of sentient mailboxes. Mostly sure. Alright, half sure and strongly hoping I hadn’t been violating child-labor laws for weeks. “Huh, I guess it is my pet.”

Before I could start my letter to Pinkie or explain to Sweetie Belle why I had the most metal pet she’d ever seen, Twilight appeared in her usual flashy manner. “Gears, I got your letter. Please tell me it’s a terrible joke.”

“Princess Twilight!” two foals called out as they scrambled out of the fort.

Twilight looked at them in confusion. “Apple Bloom? Sweetie Belle? What are you doing here? And where’s Scootaloo?” She looked at me as I winced. “Gears, where is Scootaloo?”

I slowly shook my head.

Apple Bloom hopped in front of Twilight to get her attention and said, “She’s fine. Miss Gears saw Scootaloo’s zompony costume and got scared.” She pointed at the barricade. “Real scared.”

Twilight frowned as she looked at the pile of furniture then back to me.

“Why are you even asking? Can’t you hear them outside? And that smell isn’t anything in here! Come on, Twilight, we can’t waste any time! You know what happens.” I felt terrible for reminding her, but there was nobody I could trust more in this situation.

She sighed, and her frown lessened, but the sadness in her expression hurt even more. “Girls, stay here with Sterling for a little bit longer. I’m going to check outside and find Scootaloo.”

“Twilight, she was covered in bites. I don’t know how many more are out there. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but… just be careful.”

Twilight’s sad smile was yet another familiar sight. If I hadn’t known her so well, I might have thought she believed me. “Don’t worry, Gears. I learned from the best.” After another flash of light, she was gone.

They weren’t really out there, were they? Now that it’d been rubbed in my face, it was obvious I’d made more poor choices than usual that evening. Hundreds of rotting limbs weren’t relentlessly beating at my walls. I was the only one that could hear the chorus of moans and screams, the grisly pandaemonium of an apocalypse that was months behind me. I’d essentially taken two foals hostage—and possibly assaulted a third—because of a delusion.

“—don’t know. She hasn’t moved since you left, Princess.” The distant voice sounded like Apple Bloom, but I wasn’t feeling confident in my ability to tell reality from illusion.

Someone sighed before saying, “Alright, I’ll talk to her. Why don’t you two—Sweetie Belle, what are you doing?”

“Umm, patting Miss Gears’s pet.”

“Why don’t you two go see if your sisters are here yet?” Two sets of hooves rushed outside through the unblocked exit.

Wait, unblocked exit? They were going to get in if I didn’t fix the barricade immediately! I needed to—

“Gears.”

I jumped away as something touched my shoulder, but instead of putting a safe distance between my attacker and me, I collided with my coffee table and tumbled over it. Poking my head over a piece of furniture that should have still been in the barricade, I sighed at the very much alive pony giving me a concerned look. “Oh, it’s just you, Twilight.”

“Are you alright?” she asked as she helped me to my hooves.

“A bit sore from that little stumble but nothing serious.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“My address, or do you want the latitude and longitude?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m asking.”

“I’m home.” It was a good thing she hadn’t asked for latitude and longitude, since I didn’t even know what hemisphere Equestria was in. “They were never out there, were they?”

Twilight shook her head as she sat on the couch. On any other day, I would have reminded her she lit the old one on fire. “No, they weren’t.”

Taking a seat next to her would have taken too much energy, so I just sank back to the floor and noticed how badly it needed to be swept. Why was I so tired? “It’s fainter, but I can still hear them. I really thought I was doing better.”

“You’ve been working yourself too hard this week, so it’s understandable that your nerves are a little frayed.”

“I’ve been busy. You know, I could have sworn I put up a barricade. Did I just imagine that too?”

“Oh, sorry. I put everything back in its place. Did I miss something?”

“Nothing I can see.” Not that I would have noticed unless she’d put something back upside down. “I really bungled tonight, didn’t I? Held Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle captive, shoved Scootaloo, and signalled an emergency alarm over a hallucination.”

Twilight nodded. “It could have gone better.”

“Loads better. So much for my first Nightmare Night, huh?” I had to chuckle at that one. If their holiday analogs were in the same order, Hearth’s Warming would be next, right?

“Oh right, I forgot about that. I’m sorry it turned out this way, Gears.”

I held up a hoof. “It’s my fault entirely. Who did Scootaloo end up getting?”

“Rainbow Dash, of course. But Rainbow was talking with Applejack at the time, and well—”

“Where is she? Where is that foalnapping varmint?” There was no mistaking that accent, which meant Applehat was on my doorstep. Though I had to admit that being called a “varmint” made me laugh a bit inside.

“Yeah, that could be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk with her.”

“No, I’ll explain it. I’m not going to hide behind you, Twilight.”

“And that’s fine, but if I don’t talk with her, you won’t get a chance to explain.” Twilight stopped halfway to the door and looked over her shoulder. “You still have a little time to figure out what you want to say.”

The conversation outside faded as I mulled over the impending explanation. How much did I want to tell them? Hopefully Twilight would stay around to verify things, because there was no chance they’d take everything I said as truth. Still, they needed something more detailed than “sorry, I thought the zombies were back.” My reaction had been completely reasonable for what I’d thought I’d seen, but it would take a lot of convincing to make them see it that way.

“Gears, get out here!” Oh great, now Dash was there too. At least Twilight was helping a little, otherwise my door would have been knocked down by now.

“I’d rather not.”

Dash glared at me through a window. “Either you come out, or we come in!”

“Rainbow Dash, get down from there!”

“No way, Twilight. I want answers, and I want them now!”

The sound of flapping wings signalled the arrival of another pegasus. “Rainbow Dash and Applejack, please tell me why you are preparing to break down Sterling Gears’s door.”

The Crusaders gasped and shouted, “Princess Luna!” Correction: the sound of flapping wings had signalled the arrival of another alicorn.

I clamped a hoof over my mouth to stifle a groan. Wait, if Luna had shown up, that could work to my advantage. She’d seen zombies. Heck, she’d fought them with me. I warily looked out the window, ready to duck at a moment’s notice.

Luna smiled at the Crusaders. “Good evening, girls. I trust you are having a good Nightmare Night?”

Applejack noticed me peeking out of the window and shot me a glare that could have levelled a barn. “They were until Sterling here pushed Scootaloo away and foalnapped the other two.”

Luna frowned as she looked at me and then the Crusaders. Her eyes lingered on Scootaloo for a few moments before she nodded. “I see. Twilight Sparkle, do you have anything to add?”

Twilight sighed with relief and nodded. “There was a reason for Sterling’s actions. I was going to let her explain after I’d made sure such a discussion could be held civilly.”

“Ms. Gears was scared,” Apple Bloom said quietly. She gulped and spoke a bit louder. “I think she thought Scootaloo was a real zompony.”

I hated the word “zompony” so much. Maybe I’d start a “stop using ‘pony’ to replace the end of words” movement.

“Ha! Told you my costume was scary and awesome.” Scootaloo grinned. Some carefully applied makeup and ruffled fur should not have spooked me so badly.

Applejack snorted. “Really? That’s what this was all about?” She turned towards the window and shouted, “You foalnapped my sister because of a fictional monster!”

“Applejack, please!” Twilight stood in front of her. “You have to stay calm.”

Not wanting shouting ponies outside my house all night, I stormed out the front door. “You want an explanation? You’ll get an explanation. All of it. But I’m not saying a word with the Crusaders here.” I gestured towards them.

Applejack frowned and took a step towards me. “I don’t think you have a say in what my sister does or doesn’t do.”

“Applejack.” Luna was quiet, but she was just as proficient with authoritative tones as her sister. “Rainbow Dash. The hour is late. Return these three to their homes so that they may sleep.”

Three fillies quietly groaned.

Applejack continued to stare at me as she said, “Sure thing, Princess Luna. But I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” She turned back to me and glared. “And then you’ll talk, and it better be good.”

“Just get going already.” With a sigh, I turned towards the Crusaders. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Sweetie. “Well, what you did wasn’t okay, but nobody got hurt.”

As Applejack and Dash led them away, Scootaloo called back, “You owe us candy.” She shrugged as Apple Bloom nudged her. “What? She does.”

Angry Applejack made plenty of sense, but Dash hadn’t said a word since I got outside. A quiet Dash was never a good thing—it usually meant she was hiding for a prank, but she definitely wasn’t in the mood for something as benign as spiking my milk with hot sauce.

Once all five of them were out of earshot, Luna spoke. “I should have anticipated this.”

“You expected me to freak out over a Hallo—sorry—Nightmare Night costume? That’s not really something you can blame yourself for.”

She nodded. “I should have realized it was a possibility. I saw young Scootaloo’s costume earlier but gave it no thought.”

My eyes kept sliding off of Luna as she stood in the dark. “Did the two of you want to come inside?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Even though most of the furniture was pony-sized, the building’s dimensions were better suited for diamond dogs. Of course, that just meant I had “more” house to run around in. “I find it funny how you’re better sized for my home than me. I’m not that much shorter than the average pony, but then again, most ponies are a little short to you, right?”

Luna chuckled. “In a way, yes. The doors are quite tall in Canterlot Castle, so Celestia forgets to duck on occasion.”

“Really? That sounds hilarious.” I had to laugh at the mental image of Celestia catching her horn on a doorframe. “Either of you want a drink? I don’t think I have much left in the way of tea.” It wasn’t that I hated the stuff—I’d just never bothered restocking. “But I do have some alcohol.” Realizing how that might have sounded, I added, “And no, I haven’t drank a lot tonight. I’ve really just been nursing a single mug of rock ale.”

Luna raised her brow. “I was not under the assumption it had affected your actions. Would you happen to have any mead?”

“None in here, sorry. There might be some down in the storerooms, but I really doubt it. We imported a couple things but the vast majority of our alcohol is made by Spot from stuff we have.” Mushrooms and rocks were in no short supply. “And we don’t have any apiaries. Or dogs interested in beekeeping.” Though one of them had accidentally kicked a beehive while on the surface a while ago—I’d tried very hard not to laugh when he’d started screaming, “Not the bees!”

“A pity. I will have whatever you recommend then.”

“Twilight?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“I know, but I figured I’d ask.”

“We really need to talk about this before Applejack and Rainbow Dash come back, Sterling.”

I waved a hoof at her and walked out of the room. “I know, Twilight. I’m not going to take forever.” I wasn’t procrastinating so much as preempting tonight’s need for a drink.

The alcohol was kept separate from the food, mostly because the pantry was too full of nonperishables to hold any. Since it was all good stuff, I was going to pick one at random, but then I spotted the cask stamped with the seal of the Griffon Kingdoms, a gift from the Griffon Ambassador.

“Good news, Luna, I did have mead,” I said as I re-entered the living room, balancing a tall mug on my back. Carrying stuff like that was rather easy once you got used to it. “Forgot about the Misty Aerie stuff Camillo sent me.”

Luna smiled as she took the mug. “Most excellent. Thank you, Sterling.”

Twilight watched Luna’s drink warily, like the mead was going to shoot down her throat if she took her eyes off it. “What about your medication, Gears?”

“Haven’t taken it for the last few days. Throws me off too much to get a lot of work done.” And I’d been cautious ever since a tinkering mishap had almost taken off my ear. Was already missing enough parts, thank you very much.

Her snout wrinkled as she looked between me and the drink. “Alright. We should really start talking about this though. Gears, how much are you going to tell them?”

Sitting down, I shrugged. “Whatever I need to. I’m not going to give them my life’s story, but this whole mess will get cleared up a lot quicker if I don’t beat around the bush.”

“As my sister and I have said, Sterling Gears, it is your secret to tell. Just keep in mind what impact your words may have.” Though the few flecks of foam clinging to her muzzle ruined any impact her words might have had.

I nodded, debating if I should tell her about the foam. “I just might need a little help proving it’s the truth. Don’t take this the wrong way, Luna, but I really didn’t expect you to show up tonight.”

Instead of getting offended, the usual reaction to somebody saying “don’t take this the wrong way,” she chuckled. “Is it so wrong of me to visit a friend on one of the few nights I am able to? Also, I mentioned in my last letter that I would be stopping by tonight.”

“Right.” I sighed, sincerely regretting how much I’d let myself slip over the last few days. “I lost track of what day it was.”

Luna frowned as she looked me over, humming occasionally. “You need rest, Sterling Gears.” She sniffed, and her nose wrinkled. “As well as a long soak in the tub. You smell of sweat, smoke, and what I suspect is burnt thaumite.” Yeah, that sounded about right for Eau de Sterling.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Gears.” Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “What’s stopping this from happening again? Despite your good intentions, what you did was illegal. You could be arrested before the night is over.”

“What do you want me to do, Twilight? What do you want me to say? I know I screwed up—you don’t need to keep reminding me about my mistakes.” The throbbing headache grew stronger every time I thought about my earlier delusion, and it was impossible to get my mind off it. “Really, if you have any ideas, I’d like to hear them, because I got nothing more than just explaining things to them.”

“I believe Twilight Sparkle was referring to what could be done to prevent this situation from reoccurring.”

Rubbing my head did nothing to stop the pain, but it’s not like that had ever stopped anybody from doing it. “Right, sorry. I still don’t know then. I don’t think I want to load up on medications though, if that’s even an option in the first place. I could just avoid getting this stressed again. Oh, and I’ll put up some ‘no zombies allowed’ signs. See? That’s double the defense.”

Luna sat silently for a couple moments before chuckling. “I do not believe that would be effective enough.” Her smile flattened as she continued, “My sister was mistaken in believing the occasional meeting between the two of you would be enough.”

“But—”

Luna held up a hoof to silence Twilight’s protest. “My apologies. I should have been more clear. This has nothing to do with your actions, Twilight Sparkle, and if I have heard correctly, you have once again exceeded expectations. But if Sterling is to continue her recovery, more must be done, as the situation is slowly becoming more dire.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “Your dreams are growing worse again.”

Of course they were. I bet it’s all—what had Luna named that thing again? Barista, right? Yeah, let’s go with that—Barista’s fault. You just can’t trust extrauniversal parasites these days. “I knew that thing was bad news. Should have annihilated it the moment we pulled it off my dreams.”

A hurt look crossed Luna’s face for a moment. “Barinzan is not at fault here, Sterling. I know you do not trust him, but he has done nothing to interfere with any dreams ever since we first visited yours.”

“Sorry, I just don’t enjoy the idea of heading back in there.” Quite a bit of it was cathartic, but it wasn’t a fun event the whole family could enjoy.

Luna’s mane stayed more-or-less in place as she shook her head. “This is not something that can be repaired in such a matter. The dreams are merely a symptom of the actual problem, but it is too early to say if it is a different facet of what caused your earlier delusion, or if it is a separate issue.”

“Which is?” My tail reminded me of its existence by twitching anxiously.

It took a few minutes before Luna sighed and answered, “I do not know. Small parts of your dreams are… missing. I have never seen anything like it before, though I suspect it may be related to your journey through the Between.”

The word made my skin crawl, and I shuddered. “You can’t make me go back there. I refuse to go back there!” The table shook as my hoof pounded it.

“Sterling, neither my sister nor I would ask such a thing. You have my word,” Luna said quietly. Her ears perked up, and she sighed. “The time has come for me to return to Canterlot. It was good speaking with you, though I pray my next visit is at a better time. I will continue looking into the issue.”

Nodding slightly, I sighed and slumped in my seat as much as was physically possible for something with a skeletal structure. She hadn’t said anything that would imply I’d be going back into the Between, but I’d still freaked out a little, and that made me worry even more. “Thanks, Luna. Thanks for everything.”

As the door closed behind Luna, Twilight finally spoke again. “Gears, why didn’t you say something if you were having issues with your dreams?”

“I didn’t know.” The front door continued to hold my attention. Soon, there would be more ponies entering my home, and they wouldn’t be as pleasant as Luna. Or as tall. “Usually don’t remember my dreams when I wake up. I just go about my day. Good to know there will always be something for me to worry about though. Can’t have me getting complacent, right?”

Twilight’s smile was comforting but not enough to hide how much the situation bothered her. “Don’t worry, Gears. You’ll get through this, and I’ll be there to help every step of the way.”

The dirt outside did little to muffle the stomps approaching my door.

“Took them long enough.” I sighed. Well, bring it on. The sooner this was over with, the sooner I could go to bed. “You know, the pack should have broken through my floor by now. I really don’t want them to pop up and assume I’m in danger from Dash and Applejack.”

Twilight nodded. “Last I checked, Pinkie was convincing the pack that the alarm was a drill.”

“Good thinking.”

Applejack’s abuse rattled the front door in its frame, making it sound like my home was afraid of her wrath. “Open up, Gears.”

“It’s still not locked,” I called before turning to Twilight and asking, “Could you catch the door in case she throws it open?”

“Applejack isn’t going to—” Twilight jumped as the door slammed open, two deep imprints clearly visible on its surface. “Applejack! That was completely uncalled for!”

“The hay it wasn’t!”

I could feel Applejack’s hatred as she entered my home. There was a good chance something would burst into flames from getting too close to her, and I was worried I’d have to get a new couch once again. Applejack was not a happy pony, nor was she a silly pony. Behind her floated Dash, who was still upsettingly quiet. It was not much of a surprise to see Rarity walk in last, fighting the urge to yawn.

“Applejack, we are adults and should behave as such.” Rarity stopped walking as she lost the battle and yawned, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Excuse me. That said, Sterling, I hope you have an explanation for your earlier actions.”

There was another loud stomp from Applejack, and I could have sworn the floorboards cracked a bit. “What’s there to explain? Gears is a foalnapping nutjob.”

“Then why the fuck are you here, Applejack? Did you only show up just so you could insult me?” I took a step towards Applejack, suddenly noticing that she’s quite a bit taller than I am. If a fight broke out between us, I’d have to play dirty. Option A: go for the eyes. Option B: hold her hat hostage. “Do you even care about what happened?”

A bit of magic grabbed my tail and pulled me back as Twilight said, “Both of you need to stop. Applejack, stop being so hostile. Gears, stop egging her on.”

I snorted. “Excuse me for not wanting my stuff damaged.”

Twilight frowned at me. “Enough, Gears.”

I had to bite my lip to stop another comment. Applejack was being a bitch, but Twilight didn’t deserve it. “Does anybody want something to drink? I don’t know how long you’re all going to be here tonight.”

Dash nodded. “Cider. Hard if you got it.”

Rarity smiled. “Water, please.”

Applejack just frowned. “I’m good.”

Once all the drinks had been given to their owners, I took a seat and began what I hoped was a good explanation that’d stop me from getting arrested. “First off, I am sorry for what I did. I was… wrong about what I saw when the Crusaders knocked on my door.”

Dash spoke slowly, making sure to pronounce each word clearly. “It was just a costume. Zomponies aren’t real, Gears.”

“Zombies. And I’m glad I was wrong. Zombies still don’t exist here, but they’re what I was running away from when I came to Equestria.”

Applejack snorted. “Baloney!”

Twilight sighed and spoke quietly. “She’s telling the truth, Applejack. I’ve seen them in the memories I viewed after we defeated that shadow creature.”

“Grue.” Hey, I only shuddered a little bit that time.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “It didn’t have a name, Gears.”

“That’s why I gave him one.” Easier to curse something when it has a name.

Applejack, Rarity, and Dash wore undecipherable expressions as they processed Twilight’s reassurance that I wasn’t talking out of my plot, as disturbingly amusing as that would have been.

Dash was the first to start talking again. “So what you’re saying is that somewhere out there—” she waved a hoof towards the window, “—is a bunch of brain-eating monsters?”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she shook her head hurriedly. “No, no, no. Well, I guess they are out there, but they’re so far away the distance can’t be properly measured. There is no chance they could find a way here.”

Applejack scoffed. “What, is Gears an alien or something? Because she looks an awful lot like a pony to me unless she’s a changeling or something.”

Rarity sipped her water and nodded. “This is all more than a little farfetched, Twilight.”

“I wasn’t always a pony. That’s just what this universe turned me into.” Of course, that just made them more confused.

“That’s all fine and dandy,” Applejack said loudly, “But I don’t see what this has to do with you foalnapping my sister and her friends.”

“When they came to the door, I saw Scootaloo as a zombie, not just a pony in a costume. I thought Equestria was about to go through the same thing my old world did.” It’s never easy to admit you hallucinated and committed a felony because of it.

Dash raised her hoof. “Can we go back to the part where Gears is an alien?” She lowered the same hoof she had just raised until it was pointing at me. “Is this why you were walking weird the first couple days after you came to Ponyville?”

“Maybe? Nobody told me I was walking weird.” In fact, I’d thought I’d figured out walking by then. “Twilight, was I walking weird?”

She nodded slowly. “I think so, but I don’t have many memories where you’re walking on an uninjured leg.” After a moment, she winced and said, “Sorry, Gears.”

I sighed. “And yet nobody said anything.”

“Of course, Sterling. That would have been rude,” Rarity said.

The cups on the table rattled as Applejack slammed her hoof down. “I don’t care if Gears is from the next town over or the next planet over. She foalnapped two fillies and attacked a third!”

“Hey! I just pushed her away. I thought she was undead and going after Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.” It was a good thing the situation had prevented me from doing more than that. The alternative was something that I didn’t want to think about. “I thought I was protecting them.”

Applejack sneered. “What you thought happened and what actually happened are two different things.”

“You think I don’t know that? This isn’t me trying to get sympathy.”

“Then what do you want, Gears?” Applejack looked ready to jump out of her seat and throttle me. “Why are we here listening to your excuses?”

“I…” Why did I want them here? What was I hoping to get out of this little exchange? Admittedly, I really didn’t want to get arrested for this, but there are very few situations where somebody would want to get thrown in the slammer. “I guess I just want you to know that this isn’t something fictional I hallucinated about because I read too many scary stories when I was younger.”

“So that’s it. You just don’t want to be seen as crazy.”

Twilight lightly stamped her hoof. “Applejack, that’s enough! You’ve been nothing but hostile, and I’m starting to wonder if this meeting was a bad idea.”

“I have to agree with Twilight.” Rarity nodded. “I understand that you’re upset, but this just… troubling.”

Applejack frowned at both of them. “I have my reasons.” Then she turned a hateful glare on me and said, “Gears, you showed up in Ponyville at just about the same time those… things appeared.” The emphasis she put on “things” sent fingers of ice down my spine. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

Dash raised an eyebrow as she set down her drink. “AJ…”

I’d have to be careful about my next words. This was like navigating a minefield while being chased by rabid bears. Even worse, I’d never won a game of Minesweeper without setting the field to max size with the minimum number of mines. “Not on purpose—” an orange blur was my only warning before a blunt object crushed my muzzle and knocked me out of my seat. Had somebody just smacked me with a tangerine sledgehammer?

The screaming of others brought some semblance of clarity back to my scrambled thoughts, as did the pointy object stuck in my throat. Gagging and choking, I tried to focus on what the hell had just happened and why there was quite a bit of blood in my mouth.

“—all dead, and it’s her fault!”

Twilight’s face filled my vision. “Gears! Can you hear me.”

All that came out of my mouth was a strangled cough. Oh right, choking, and I still didn’t know the pony Heimlich.

“Hold still, Gears. I’ll remove whatever you’re choking on.”

There wasn’t much point in telling me to hold still if she was just going to use magic to make sure I didn’t fidget as she yanked the object out of my windpipe. Twilight frowned as she looked at it, then back in my mouth. She turned away from me as I started to stand up. “You punched her hard enough to knock out a tooth, Applejack, and she almost choked on it!” That was a punch? Holy hell, what was her motto, float like a butterfly and sting like a cruise missile? And how did she only knock out one?

“I’ll take that, Twilight,” Rarity said as she took the tooth and made for the kitchen. “This needs to be rinsed with and placed in a glass of milk immediately.” Then she quietly said, “Never thought I’d need to know this for somepony other than Sweetie and her friends.”

Applejack snarled as she struggled against Dash, who strained to keep her from charging at me again. “I would have done a lot more if y’all weren’t protecting that murderer.”

She’d socked me in my own home and probably wouldn’t have stopped until I was a bloody pulp, and that was after she’d spend most of her visit insulting me. She’d just been looking for a reason to hit me, hadn’t she?

Not in my house. Glorious battle would be joined, and I would regain my honor by headbutting that look off Applejack’s face.

It’s quite uncomfortable to have your charge interrupted by a bit of magic grabbing your tail. If you have enough momentum, it feels like your spine is about to be yanked out your backside. Not pleasant at all, which is why I turned my glare on the pony responsible after I’d picked myself up off the floor again. “I liked that tooth, Twilight!” Godammit, I sounded hilarious.

Rarity sighed as she trotted back into the room. “No more fighting, please! We’re here to find a peaceful resolution.”

Spitting a glob of blood onto the floor made Rarity and Twilight wince, but what was I supposed to do, leave it all in my mouth? Besides, it wasn’t like I’d never cleaned blood off a floor. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted too, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen tonight. Let go of my tail, please.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to behave?”

“Oh hell no.” I chuckled, then glared at Applejack, who was still struggling against Rainbow Dash. “She attacked me. I want payback.”

Rarity sighed again as she stepped in front of me. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Sterling. I don’t agree with what Applejack did, but you don’t need to do the same.”

“I don’t see why y’all are being so pleasant with a murderer. If it weren’t for her, all those ponies would still be around today.” Applejack locked eyes with Dash. “Scootaloo would still have her parents.”

Well, that’d answered any questions I’d had about whether Scootaloo was an orphan, but I hadn’t expected it to be my fault. Sure, I’d been manipulated into bringing Grue over, but that didn’t change the fact that if I hadn’t built the portal—no, I’m not falling into that trap. Nice try, guilt. If I hadn’t built that portal, Grue would have kept hopping universes until he found somebody who would, no matter how many he destroyed along the way. Difference is, we’d stopped him. We’d won. Nothing about what had happened was directly my fault.

“If it weren’t for me, somebody else would have been tricked into bringing the big bad here. Somebody who probably wouldn’t have designed a totally awesome explosive that ended up killing him.”

“You don’t know that!” Applejack’s hooves scraped against the ground, and Rainbow Dash was struggling to keep her back. “Let me go, RD!”

“And neither do you. I know what happens when it wins. I’ve seen it. I don’t hate whoever was tricked into bringing it to the world I used to live on, since I know exactly how it feels to watch everything die as you follow the instructions, hoping you’ll finish the way out before there isn’t anybody else to leave with you. But with that thing pulling the strings, you’re only done once it’s cleaned its plate.” It’s incredibly difficult to sound dramatic when I’d just had a tooth knocked out—it’s like attending a symphony while somebody in the audience used a slide whistle.

The horrified expressions would have been satisfying if Applejack had been wearing one instead of Dash and Rarity. Unfortunately, Twilight still had hold of my tail, so I couldn’t use this opportunity to get a few punches in. Why did Twilight have to ruin my rightful vengeance?

“And we’re supposed to believe that?”

Twilight stepped forward and looked her in the eye. “Applejack, you’re my friend, but so is Sterling. I can’t let you two keep fighting like this. You haven’t even tried to listen to her. Will you even listen when I say she’s been telling the truth?”

For a few moments, it looked like Applejack was going to start arguing with Twilight, but instead, she turned back to me and calmly said, “Innocent or not, Sterling, stay away from my family. I better not see you anywhere near Sweet Apple Acres.”

“I’ve never been there.” It was a little amusing that I’d lived here for a few months and managed to never set hoof on one of the largest—and most famous if you’d seen the show—apple orchards in Equestria.

“Then it shouldn’t be any trouble for you to avoid.” Applejack turned around and headed for the door, allowing Dash to relax slightly. “Got it?”

“As long as you don’t get pissy if your family comes to me for something.” Running into the Crusaders again was pretty much a certainty, and I didn’t need Applejack throwing a fit if one of their schemes brought them nearby. Besides, who else would they visit if they wanted to try for thaumite-related cutie marks?

“I’m not unreasonable, Gears.”

“Tell that to my tooth.”

Applejack snorted as she closed the door behind her. Good riddance.

With her finally out of the way, we could get back to the important stuff. “Alright, let’s get that tooth reinserted,” I said, pointing at my muzzle. “And let go of my damn tail, please.”

“The best thing would be to get you to a dentist as soon as possible. Twilight, do you mind contacting her?”

Relinquishing the end of my spine with a sigh, Twilight said, “I’ll go find Minuette then. With any luck, she’s at home.”

I gestured towards the door, only mildly miffed that the dentist’s name wasn’t Colgate. “Let’s go then.”

Twilight shook her head. “I’ll be teleporting, Gears. Between your tendency to get sick and the risk of losing the tooth, it’ll be safer if I do it on my own and bring her here. I won’t be long.” Before I could protest, she teleported away.

“While she’s doing that, Sterling, go rinse your mouth with warm water,” Rarity said as she pointed towards the kitchen.

Reinserting teeth was not something I’d done a lot, but I still had a little experiencing putting them back in. Unfortunately with the lack of precision hooves possessed, my only decent option was to wait for a unicorn willing to jam the chunk of enamel back into my gum. “Alright,” I said with a nod.

A few minutes later after I’d finished, Twilight reappeared with a blue unicorn and a small bag labelled “Dental House Call Bag”. I’d had no idea there were dentists who made house calls. Also, how had I forgotten house calls existed? I’d never have to go to a hospital, clinic, or any other medical deathtrap again!

“Where’s the tooth?” she immediately asked.

“Right here, Minuette.” Rarity levitated the tooth out of the glass of milk and gave it to the dentist. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course, though I’ll admit I usually don’t get patients until a few weeks after Nightmare Night.” After inspecting the tooth for a few moments, she nodded with satisfaction and turned to me. “Alright, Sterling, let’s take care of this avulsed tooth. This… won’t be pleasant.”

It wasn’t. Minuette didn’t take the time to give me any sort of anaesthetic—she just grabbed the tooth, held my jaw open, and shoved the tooth in like a shiv.

“You need to floss more,” she said as she inspected the surrounding teeth.

“Nng oo?” I asked through the gauze in my mouth. I was pretty sure only having hooves was a fantastic excuse for not flossing.

“That’s no excuse. I’ve seen plenty of earth ponies floss effectively.”

How the hell did they manage that? “Nnh.”

“When was the last time you visited a dentist?”

“Ik eer.”

“Six years is far too long. Your teeth are going to fall out of your head if you don’t take better care of them.”

I gave her a deadpan stare.

Minuette rolled her eyes. “On their own, Sterling.”

Fortunately, her examination didn’t last too much longer, and she left me alone after extorting a promise to visit her office tomorrow. A dentist’s office would be different enough from a hospital, right? And I did want to keep my teeth.

A minute after Minuette left, Twilight, Dash and Rarity filed back into the room, ruining my plans to just lay on the couch until I conked out. “I didn’t know you were all still here.”

“Well, yeah, Gears,” Dash said, “We’re not done yet.” She looked into the empty mug she’d carried outside. “And can I have more cider?”

Rarity sighed as she took a seat again. “Rainbow, do you really need more cider?”

Dash rolled her eyes. “No, but I like the taste.”

“So did you just stand out there waiting for Minuette to leave?” I asked after I’d refilled Dash’s cider.

Rarity cleared her throat with a dainty cough. “While we have a better idea why you did what you did, the fact remains that you did it. You’ve been polite and fair every time we’ve done business, but I need to look out for my sister. I don’t want to press charges, but you need help, Sterling.”

“And a break. You need that too,” Dash added with a sagely nod.

“Can’t really slow down with everything I need to do.”

“Sure you can. Take a nap now and then. Even if you can’t do it on a cloud, everypony needs some extra rest. Not to mention you look dead tired all the time.” Dash guzzled the rest of her cider and set down the mug a bit harder than she’d probably meant to. “Because this better not happen again, Gears. I mean it.”

After that bombshell that Applejack had dropped, I’d figured Dash would have been more confrontational. “So therapy, naps, and what else? An ankle bracelet?” Since Luna had also told me to get some rest, naps sounded like a fantastic idea. Therapy, not so much.

“Er, that’s a little random.”

Right, should have guessed they wouldn’t have something like that. Well, they might, but it’d probably just be a spell. “Never mind.”

Dash nodded. “Alien thing. Got it.”

“I’d also recommend not going anywhere near Applejack until she calms down,” Rarity added.

“Yeah, don’t need to tell me twice. I’ve got a good idea how upset she is.” My muzzle would probably be hurting for most of the day unless I started taking my pain medication again. I’d been doing so good too.

“I believe that’s everything we wanted to discuss,” Rarity said as she stood. “It is time for me to return home and sleep.”

“Alright, thanks for not punching me in the face as well.”

Rarity scoffed. “I would never do something so barbaric. Just don’t forget what we talked about, Sterling.”

“Believe me, I won’t. Goodnight, Rarity.”

“Goodnight,” she replied as she closed the door behind her.

“Yeah, I should probably get some sleep as well. Gears… I don’t blame you for Scootaloo’s parents or any of the other ponies those monsters got. You helped take out the big bad, with bonus points for the awesome explosions.” Dash smirked as she lightly punched my shoulder. “Just get some sleep, okay? I won’t be so nice next time.”

After Dash left, I made my way to the couch and flopped onto it. Laying on my back was kind of uncomfortable but not uncomfortable enough that I wanted to roll over. “So why am I not being arrested right now?”

“They’re more forgiving than you think, Gears.”

“And I suppose Applejack doesn’t want to get in trouble with the law for nearly inverting my muzzle.”

“Do you want me to stay here tonight, Gears?”

The innuendo died on my lips, my desire to make Twilight blush and feel awkward was completely gone—more proof that I needed to get some sleep. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks though. Tonight would have gone a lot worse if you hadn’t been there.”

“Of course, Gears. That’s what friends are for. You sure you don’t want me to stay? It’s no trouble at all.”

I rolled off the couch and located my pouch of bits. “No, but can you do me a favor? If I give you some bits, do you mind taking the Crusaders down to Bon Bon’s shop? Scootaloo wasn’t wrong when she said I owed them candy.”

Twilight smiled. “Yes, I can do that. That’s very thoughtful of you, Gears.” She stared at the bits I dumped onto the table. “That’s way too much, Gears.”

“Hey, that’s how much I would have spent on candy to give out anyway, and they’re the only foals who came to collect. Shouldn’t really do it myself though.”

“Alright, you made your point.” Twilight chuckled as she took the bits. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gears. Everything’s going to work out.”

I nodded. “Eventually.”

Once Twilight had left, I debated for all of two seconds whether to clean up or go to bed. The dirty dishes and bloodstain could wait until tomorrow. Hopefully Luna could figure out whatever was going on with my dreams. Sleeping in a little bit would help her out, right?

I paused at my bedroom door and looked back over my shoulder. There was one more thing that needed to be done.

After feeding it half a sheet of stamps, I patted the mailbox. “There you go.”

Now I could go to bed.

Author's Notes:

Feels so good to finally get a new chapter out. I'm so sorry for the super long delay—it drives me nuts when authors don't update their stories.

As for what caused the delay, well, I can't really say exactly what happened, but I promise it didn't involve me ending up with hooves and going on an epic quest to reclaim my hands. If I wanted to search for humanity, I'd load up Dark Souls for the first time in a year or so.

Sterling Heads North

Nightmare Night had been my wake-up call. I couldn’t keep going on the same way—I had to suck it up and make an effort to get better instead of waiting for it. As a human, I’d never been to any sort of therapist, so I’d had no idea what to expect of my first appointment. He hadn’t seemed to doubt any of the stuff I'd told him about my past as we’d gotten to know each other—then again, changeling expressions weren’t something I’d had much experience with. After the second appointment, I’d sent a thank-you letter to Luna for her recommendation of therapist.

Twilight and I had made sure to keep going with our weekly meetings, though sometimes we had just relaxed and chatted about magic. Well, Twilight had chatted while I’d tried to keep up. We’d talked about the nerve-fraying weeks as well as the smooth ones. My therapist was great, but sometimes I just needed a good back-and-forth with somebody I wasn’t paying to listen.

Things had gotten busy in the month before the airship’s take-off date, which meant a lot of time on the airship integrating the thaumite temperature shield. All the running around had been exhausting, and the pack party Pinkie had thrown just a week ago had been a perfectly timed break that had saved my sanity. It had also given me time to think about the non-trip stuff that needed to be done before I left for two weeks—things like hanging out with a friend I hadn’t seen much of while swamped with work and telling them things I didn’t have a reason to keep hidden from them.

“So… you’re an alien?” Vinyl asked slowly.

“Yep. Came from a different universe. No spaceship though.” I’d been wary when the shrink had suggested I open up about my past to some friends I could trust, but this was actually kinda nice. Didn’t have to feel like I needed to watch everything I said around everybody.

Vinyl snorted. “Aww, I was going to ask for a ride.” She actually looked a little disappointed at me not having a UFO. “Honestly though, I thought you were a minotaur that got turned into a pony because you poked something cursed. Kinda glad Tall didn’t agree to that bet now.”

“A minotaur?”

She shrugged and gave me a sheepish smile. “Yeah, there was that time we were hanging out and you knocked a drink off a table, then you grumbled about missing your hands. Was going to ask you about it, but thinking about minotaurs made me think of how much I wanted some bullwraps—you know, those things you called ‘weird burritos’.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that night. Those things kicked ass.” As hearty as they were spicy. I didn’t remember what the restaurant had used instead of tortillas, but they were quite a bit thicker and sturdier, more like large floppy pancakes. “Then we had that little contest to see who could handle the spiciest sauce.” It had been spicy enough to bring back memories of accidentally lighting myself on fire.

Vinyl laughed and nodded excitedly. “And we were both crying by the time we called it a draw. Yeah, we should go back there again sometime. I’d say tonight, but...” She gestured towards the packed bags near my front door.

“That’s part of the reason I’m telling you all this tonight. Kinda tired of putting it off.”

“Cutting it a little close.” Vinyl snorted and took a drink, though she paused before it got to her muzzle. “Wait, this isn’t one of those things where you don’t think you’re going to survive, is it? Because I totally thought this was just a researchy exploration thing.”

“It is just a researchy exploration thing.” There was extra thaumite in my bags so I could do my part in keeping it that way too. “I didn’t feel like spending half the trip wondering how this conversation would go. Definitely glad it’s going this well though.”

“Pfft, why wouldn’t it? I just found out one of my friends is an alien and how cool is that? Not like it’s a weird secret to keep either. I mean, I don’t exactly want the world to know my signature shades are prescription.” She gave them a gentle tap. “Or that Photo Finish is my mom. Love her, but I can’t stand the type of crowd she attracts.”

“I forgot she was your mom.” I’d met her once too, and even though I’d recognized her words, I had no idea what she was saying to me.

“It doesn’t come up much.” Vinyl shrugged, then glanced around my home before asking, “So do you have any alien technology you can show off? Something that fires lasers would be extra cool.”

I gestured at her forehead. “You have one of those attached to your skull. In fact, I’ve actually seen you shoot lasers with it.” I think Twilight called them thaumic projectiles or something, but ‘laser’ still sounds better.

“Yeah, but I’m talking about alien lasers. The less sparkly kind of pew pew.”

It was my turn to snort. “I showed up with nothing but a body I had no idea how to use.” And Dave, but I wasn’t ready to tell Vinyl about him yet.

“Is that why you’re a little calmer than you used to be? You got used to being a pony? I don’t want to say you were happier back then, but sometimes I worry. I just thought you were upset about your leg. Or overworked. Or both, really.”

Was I less happy now? I knew I was more stable at least. Probably. “I don’t know. I guess I’m not as excited about being here as I used to be—no, that’s not right. Hmm. Everything’s just not as new as it was when I first showed up, so there’s less distraction keeping my mind off things. I’ve got it good here, so I don’t really have much of an excuse to stay like this. I should be grateful.”

Vinyl smirked. “Gears, I’ve seen you cry while eating a sandwich and you told me it’d been years since you had sourdough. Actually, that makes a lot more sense now. My point is you’re plenty grateful. You should just be Sterling Gears, not Sterling Gears, the last alien from… what was your planet called?”

“Earth—in my language at least.”

“Really? I expected something like Aegis VII or whatever.”

I rolled my eyes. “The name of this planet literally means ‘horse’.” In Old Equestrian, I think. I’d have to check with Twilight to be sure what the language was actually called, since I couldn’t think of any horse-based puns for Latin.

Vinyl blinked at me in confusion before facehoofing. “Great, now I’m expecting every planet to be named something dull. Thanks, Gears. You just ruined sci-fi.”

“Glad I could help.”

She thought for a couple moments and snorted. “I guess you could just not translate it, but it’s always going—” three sharp knocks at my door cut her off abruptly. “Huh, did you invite somebody else over for the big reveal too?”

Rolling off my seat and onto my hooves, I replied, “Nope. It’s probably one of the diamond dogs.” The only others I could think of that might be at my door at this hour were Pinkie or Twilight, but Pinkie rarely knocks and Twilight’s style is five quick knocks. However, I wasn’t expecting who was actually waiting on the other side of the door. “Applejack? What are you doing here?”

She gave me a curt nod. “Sterling. I want to have a chat.”

“Uh, no?”

“I have a fresh apple pie.” She nodded towards the cloth-wrapped bundle on her back.

Crap, who told her I like food? “I’ve got company, Applejack.”

“Yo,” Vinyl said from her cushion, though I was pretty sure she was greeting the pie.

“I also have some jams and preserves for your trip.” That must be what’s in the basket. “I just want your ear for a couple minutes. That’s all.” Was she feeling guilty? Annoyed? Bored? Her expression wasn’t telling me enough.

“Just talk to her, Gears. You get a pie out of it.” Dang, Vinyl’s logic was pretty solid on this one.

I sighed and nodded. “Alright. We’ll just be out front for a bit, Vinyl.”

Her horn glowed as she got to her hooves, our cups floating into the air to follow. “Sounds good to me. I’ll refill our drinks. And debate making a sandwich for myself. Oh wait, gotta save room for apple pie.”

As the door closed behind me, I tried not to think about how my last talk with Applejack had gone or how it was just the two of us out here under the thaumite lanterns flanking my front door. It was getting easier to be outside after sundown, but I still wouldn’t be getting far from where everything was nicely illuminated. The dry grass crunched beneath me as I sat down and wondered how much I’d use an actual porch.

Applejack carefully set the basket on the ground and rested the pie on top of it before taking a seat nearby, the grass under her protesting notably less. She fixed her gaze on some point in the distance, while I opted to focus on the food with frequent glances in her direction. The crickets ignored both of us and kept on chirping.

“I’m sorry,” Applejack said quietly.

I wanted to reply, but I didn’t know what I could say that wouldn’t come out barbed. I wanted to say that she should be sorry, or better yet, downright ashamed. I wanted to tell her off for what she did, for blaming me for Grue and attacking me in my own home. I wanted to ask how she carried a pie and a basket on her back the whole way here—that was something I just couldn’t get the hang of. Instead, I just kept quiet and nodded.

It felt like ages before she continued, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we’ll ever be, but I shouldn’t have punched you. That’s not the kind of thing I want to teach Apple Bloom. And with what Twilight says, you’ve been through more than your fair share of trouble—it’s not right for me to add to that.” Applejack sighed and shifted her gaze upwards. “Granny always taught us to look a pony in the eyes when we apologize, but I can’t look at you, Sterling, not without seeing Braeburn or the others.”

“You know that wasn’t my fault, right?” I don’t tell myself that every day just to forget it now.

Applejack nodded. “You were the cart, not the pony pulling it. I know that now, but it’s stubborn. You’ve made yourself a life here, so far from your old one, and that’s what I want to see when I look at you—just a strange earth pony who lives outside Ponyville. You’re a hard-working pony who isn’t afraid to get her hooves dirty, and I respect that.”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t expecting a compliment, but I’ll take it. “I, uh, really don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Sterling.” Applejack stood up and adjusted her hat. “I came here to apologize, and with that done, I need to get back to the farm. Have a good night, Sterling. And a safe trip.”

“Applejack,” I called after her, and she stopped just short of the dark outside the porch lights. Even now, I still didn’t know what to say. Not only was it the longest conversation I’d had with Applejack, but I couldn’t remember a time where I’d heard a more sincere apology. “Thank you.” It was a simple thing to settle on, but it was either that or stand there awkwardly until she left anyway.

She nodded once before heading off into the night. Between the stars, moon, and lack of clouds, it was bright enough to see about halfway to where the road disappeared over a hill, but there wasn’t much of a reason for me to still be out here.

I stuck my head back inside. “Hey, Vinyl, can you come get this pie? I can get the basket.” Even if I had to use my mouth to pick up and carry a lot of things, I still wasn’t comfortable with doing it to food I was going to share.

Vinyl was outside faster than if she’d teleported. “I don’t know what you did to get a free pie, but you have no idea how excited I am for this. Tavi never shares hers.” She looked off into the distance where Applejack was still barely visible before asking me, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was a good talk.” It really was. I wasn’t exactly on edge, but after everything Applejack said, I was feeling pretty at ease. “Come on, let’s have some pie before I have to kick you out so I can get some sleep.”

—

Somedays I’d wake up expecting fingers and bipedalism—oh yeah, and a penis—though the feeling never lasted long once my eyes had opened and reminded me of my blue-grey muzzle. Those mornings were becoming more and more uncommon, but shouldn’t they have been gone by now? What’s a reasonable length of time for these things? I didn’t want to forget that I was once human—I just wanted to stop forgetting I’d probably be a pony for the rest of my life. There were plenty of other things more deserving of a spot in my mind: spell patterns, pack management, and fun ways to mess with Twilight, to name a few.

But the first thing I noticed today was an absence of weight that left my head feeling uncomfortably bare. “Where the hell are my goggles?”

They weren’t on the floor waiting for me to step on them, though that was probably just because I actually checked before getting off the couch—if I hadn’t, they’d have definitely been under my first hoofstep. They weren’t in the fridge, but I did find a delicious leftover sandwich I promptly ate and nearly choked on. There was a lone sock in the fridge too, for some reason, but I decided not to eat and/or choke on it.

All that was on the workbench were the blueprints for a couple spell patterns I was working on integrating into things. When the shields for the ship had finally been completely designed and installed, I’d finally felt like I could work on other stuff. What I’d learned about temperature and shields could be adapted to improve my fridge, which would be great because then I wouldn’t need to buy ice like it was going out of style. I could just buy a better icebox, but this gave me an excuse to use thaumite, and my appliances could definitely use more thaumite.

“Oh, there you are.” Why would I have left my goggles near the pile of stuff by my front door? I’ve only ever done that when there was something important— “Oh shit, that’s today.” I really needed to start remembering I owned a calendar.

Moments later, a thunderous knock made me whinny with surprise, what with me being within touching distance of the front door. I hate that reaction so much, and I’m not entirely certain why. This time, I was expecting the visitors waiting on the other side, Stick and the crew that was going to load the last of my stuff onto the airship.

“Ready, Beta?” my pack-appointed bodyguard asked, his words slightly distorted by the full helmet he wore. Gotta say, he looked pretty badass in that hulking suit of armor.

Goggles finally in their proper place, I nodded. “Yup, all my bags are packed and my leg compartment is full of candy.” It took me three weeks to design and install that little modification, but it was so worth it.

“We need to get moving if we’re going to get you and your luggage to the airship on time,” a white earth pony said as he unhooked himself from the boring, unpowered cart that probably also complied with safety regulations.

“Alright. Stick, can you grab some of this stuff?” I asked as I worked my saddlebags on.

Stick—I still don’t get D-Dog naming conventions—effortlessly picked up the rest of my stuff and carried it over to the cart like he was moving towels or random newspaper-wrapped knick-knacks in a cardboard box that would have been labelled if it weren’t for procrastinating on packing until the night before move-out day.

The earth pony grumbled about unharnessing himself for nothing but quickly decided that it was still less work and he wasn’t hourly. “There’s plenty of room, so hop on and we’ll get going.”

With everything secured, it was time to make our way to the airship, where I was going to zone out on deck for the duration of the launching ceremony. As we got further from my home, I realized this was the longest I’d be away from the Gem Hills since that mandatory cold-weather training. The doors and windows were locked, but had I left the oven on? Eh, my house was made of rocks. It’d be fine. All I really had to worry about was Twilight breaking in and setting fire to my couch again.

The airship in the distance slowly grew larger until it loomed overhead. Stick and I hopped off the cart and worked our way towards the boarding ramp. A massive crowd waited eagerly to see the AS Traveller begin her maiden voyage, and though I didn’t recognize many of the pony faces within, I couldn’t help grinning at my assembled pack members. Focusing on them took the edge off being near a crowd large enough to be considered a horde, and it did so long enough for us to get on the ship.

Other than the thaumite, my favorite part of the airship had to be the smell—there was nothing quite like the scent of magic, smoke, and wood that hadn’t soaked up enough of the first two to lose its own aroma. Heading below deck didn’t mask the sound of everybody hurrying about to finish their last-minute preparations, but once we got moving, we’d hear less of that and more of the engines chugging away. Stick trailed behind me, his armor making far more noise than my gait. It was nice not being the main source of clunks.

My room was just two left turns, down another set of stairs, another left, and a right away—nope, that wasn’t even the right end of the ship. Mine was closer to the spell-pattern room, according to the map Stick was kind enough to point out before I could try navigating the rest of the way via the left-hoof rule. Below deck was busy as well, though it was mostly crew members just trying to get settled into their rooms.

“Beta, Boss is going to surprise you.”

“You are the best bodyguard ever.” Seriously, I was going to make sure he got a “Bodyguard of the Month” plaque when we got back. Or would a trophy be better? Nah, D-Dogs usually had more walls than shelves.

Sure enough, streamers and confetti drifted down the moment I opened the door. Pinkie stood next to my bags, happily blowing a party horn to no particular tune. What Stick didn’t warn me about was the purplish alicorn standing next to Pinkie. “Twilight? When did you get back in town?”

Pinkie hopped forward and blew her blowout again.

I was getting the feeling she suspected I forgot what party blowers are usually called. “It’s good to see you too, Pinkie.”

Pinkie nodded and hugged me, quietly blowing the curly-paper-blower thing the entire time. With a gasp that almost ended in her inhaling the thing, Pinkie backed up and focused on seeing how long she could keep the blower making its iconic noise. At least I think that’s what she was doing—there was an equal chance she was carefully analyzing her party tech.

With a small chuckle, Twilight gave me a quick hug of her own. “I’m not really done in Canterlot just yet, but I couldn’t miss a chance to see off one of my friends on the journey of a lifetime. Are you sure you packed everything?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, Twilight, I’m all set. I’ll even bring you back some snow.” She was going to banish me to some sort of library dungeon if I didn’t send her updates about what we were finding too, even if I was just a mechanic.

“I think I’d prefer the updates about how things are going in the Frozen North.” See? Well, she didn’t specifically say ‘library dungeon’ but I’m sure she has one. Like a small room with the most uncomfortable chair in existence and nothing to read but outdated medical pamphlets. “Actually, the snow is a good idea too.”

“Just don’t forget I’ll have to bring any souvenirs back, since Couri can’t send more than letters that far.” I gestured at the pet carrier containing my mailbox. “In fact, I’m not even sure if letters will go through all the time over so far. Or if the barrier will mess with things.” I still hadn’t figured out all the rules with them, but I was starting to get the hang of things like which stamps it liked and which it would spit out when my back was turned.

Pinkie gasped, the party blower falling to the ground as she rushed over to Couri’s carrier and opened the door. “Couri!” She stuck her head in and nuzzled the mailbox. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Couri’s door opened and closed quickly once, which I was pretty sure equalled a bark.

“I’ll keep you both filled in as much as I can though, I promise.” One of my bags was packed with books of stamps, so barring any issues with the distance, keeping Couri fed wouldn’t be a problem. “I chat with you two more than anybody else, so keeping in touch is what I was planning on anyway. I’ll only be gone a couple weeks anyway.” I’d also be keeping in touch with Luna, of course—moon princess is best princess.

Pinkie rolled onto her back and groaned. “Aww, not a fortnight! That’s two weeks! Fourteen days—oh so that’s what the name is from. That makes way more sense.”

“Huh, I didn’t think of that.” Definitely one of those things that felt like I should have figured it out sooner.

The ship’s bell rang three times, which could only mean it was time for most of the crew to assemble on deck for the launching ceremony. The only ones exempt from heading up top were those that had to do their final checks to make sure everything was airshipshape. The ceremony wasn’t my kind of thing anyway, so it was fortunate that it was time for me to start doing my checks and tests on the cold-shield pattern. Would have been kind of awkward if we got halfway there and found out somebody had mistaken the pattern for modern art and tossed it overboard.

“I take it that means it’s time to go?” Twilight asked before I could say anything.

“Not before a goodbye hug it isn’t!” Pinkie said as she pulled Twilight and I into a mildly awkward—for me—group hug. The movements were always different enough that it made my brain point out I was doing it wrong compared to the humanoid version. It wasn’t the first pony thing I had to get used to, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Take good care of the Pack while I’m gone, Pinkie. Oh, and Twilight, spoil Spike for me.” Separating from a pony hug without falling on your face took some practice.

“You got it, Gears!” Pinkie replied with a salute. “I’ll Alpha hard enough to make up for you not being there. Hmm, maybe I can make a decoy.”

“If the diamond dogs all know Gears is going on this trip, what’s the decoy for?”

Pinkie shrugged and made sure she was standing next to Twilight. “I’unno. I’ll figure that out later. Bye, Gears! Don’t forget about the cupcakes I snuck into your bags. Oh, and tell Stick about his!” Ooh, secret luggage cupcakes. That’s one of the best kinds.

Twilight smiled and did her usual pre-teleport check to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally be taking anything more than her intended passengers back with her. “Stay safe, Gears. We’ll miss you.” Then with a flash of light and that weird vibrating pop teleports make, they were gone.

After a quick battle with my mane to get my goggles in place without any hair stuck in my eyes, I fished my toolbelt and a cupcake out of my bags. “Welp, time to get to work.”

For being one of the most vital rooms on the ship, the “thaumite room” wasn’t that interesting outside of the thing that would hopefully keep us from becoming popsicles. No windows, one door, and no furniture apart from the table with the spell pattern fastened to it. Yep, just a table—thaumite wasn’t about looking pretty, though I’ll admit I didn’t mind looking at it.

Anybody peeking over my shoulder at the blueprint would have seen a mess of scribbles and wondered how the hell I knew what I was doing—well, they’d probably be wondering “how the Tartarus” instead, but it functions the same. The blueprint’s only purpose was to make everybody else less nervous. Nobody else had really liked the idea of trusting me to remember how every inch of the thaumite was supposed to look, but I couldn’t draw a straight line with a pencil in my mouth, let alone a detailed schematic.

“Everything okay, Beta?” Stick asked from his spot by the door.

I replied without taking my eyes off the pattern, “Huh? Oh yeah, just peachy.”

And everything was peachy. No corroded sections, no sparking, and nothing bent in a way it shouldn’t have been. I’d run some extra tests once we got to our stop in the Crystal Empire, but for now, my checkup was done.

An orange pegasus stuck his head into the room and warily eyed Stick. “Sterling Gears, is everything in order with the thaumite?”

I turned around and gave him a sloppy salute. “Aye aye, Bosun.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to pretend you said ‘yes, I have reduced the chances of the entire crew freezing to death.’”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

Bosun—or whatever his name was—snorted. “You’re right, that was too direct.”

“‘Aye aye’ wasn’t direct?”

Bosun’s only response was to close the door behind him as he left.

After a few moments, Stick spoke up. “Beta, what’s a bosun?”

“I just know it’s a position on a boat crew,” I replied with a shrug before moving away from the table and getting comfortable.

For some reason, it was necessary for me to remain in the room until we launched. It wasn’t like there was anything I could do other than check over the pattern, so with that out of the way, it was time for me to fiddle with my own supply of thaumite. Since I didn’t feel like making anything specific with it, I figured I’d just tinker, or as Pinkie called it, playing with explodey magic pipe cleaners. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before the engines activated with a small rumble that could have easily been mistaken for somebody’s empty stomach if it weren’t for the floor vibrating.

Stick nervously gripped a small pouch filled with dirt taken from the caves. I’d warned him that being in an airship meant not being on the ground, but I could practically smell his anxiety—wait, never mind, I was smelling an earth pony who hadn’t had the chance to bathe before rushing out the door.

“You’ll feel better once we get to a cruising height,” I said after watching my guard continue to fidget. “Don’t think of it as being off the ground. Think of it as… uh, sorry, I got nothing.” I was not a good therapist, and seeing one didn’t make me better at it. “Oh, I know. Think of it as different ground.”

“Needs dirt,” Stick replied, gently rubbing the pouch. “And stone.”

It’s actually kind of nice being airborne without using an accidental explosion to get myself there. Maybe I should have been more worried about being in an airship with what had happened to my parents, but I helped build this flying machine. Kind of. Well, I built a vital accessory.

As I watched Stick quiver, I wondered if I should have pushed harder to not have a bodyguard. It’s not like I was—no, no tempting fate this time. I’d learned my lesson. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if there were a better choice. At least he calmed slightly as the airship stopped ascending.

“Hey, Stick, let’s go get you some more food.” I was still pretty sated from that sandwich that had tried to kill me, but with any luck, getting a gem into Stick’s belly would steady his nerves or at least distract him.

The shaking halted. “Food?”

I chuckled. “Yep. Don’t recommend eating anything too heavy at the moment, but if you want to eat a handful of gems, that should be fine. I’ll even come with.” It’d be easier than trying to convince him to go on his own.

Author's Notes:

This chapter's been a long time coming, and while I can't say I'm back to a regular schedule, it does feel good to be publishing stuff on FiMFic again. Who knows, maybe I'll put up some of my side projects soon—they're nothing like Sterling's adventures though. Lots of bats, some bugs, and a non-Zecora zebra. Oh, and TF, because that's my jam.

This chapter would not have been possible if it weren't for all the help I received, especially from Damaged, who I am lucky to have as a friend.

For what it's worth, I am sorry for the delay. The beginning of the chapter seems rushed, but it was a necessary skip over the last couple months in-story. There just wasn't anything happening in those months that required more of a look than what I wrote. Also, between the story's pacing and the delay in updates, it was definitely time to launch the airship. There was a little bit more I had written for the end of this chapter, but I figured I should use the next chapter for introducing the airship crew in a bit more depth.

Thanks for sticking around.