Infodump

View Online

Gilda slowly walked through the streets of Griffonstone, eager to see the progress of the small town’s library restoration.
She sighed as she reflected on the day that everything had changed for the better, no matter how small that change may have been. She was truly thankful to Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie for their help in getting her to see the benefits of friendship even after she had been so mean to them. Perhaps, she thought, they weren’t as lame as they had seemed during her visit to their small town.
As she began to near the once-decrepit library, she looked away from the path ahead to observe her surroundings, and marvelled at the progress of Griffonstone’s reconstruction and the restorative efforts of some of the citizens of the small settlement. It had been a slow, painful, arduous process to convince the others of the benefits of friendship, but eventually she had won a few of them over with her persistence and (for some) her awkwardness. They had certainly not been eager to forsake the noble hoarding and greed that had fuelled generations of long-forgotten griffon individuals, many of whom were probably heroes.
Note the use of the word probably: none of the griffons could actually remember any names from the past besides that of their once-great king and their own relatives, but being a proud race they naturally assumed that in the thousands of hobos, thieves, con-griffons, extortionists, murderers, arsonists, jerks, etcetera before them there were some heroes; some wheat among a sea of chaff. In a world of tares. Existing in a universe of scraps.
However, now that Gilda was slightly more honest with herself she had to admit that it seemed quite preposterous to think that any hero could ever be driven by greed or selfishness. Her whole race had once been those traits personified, yet they had been far less heroic than the many other sapient species of Equestria.
She stopped moving when she noticed Greta walking on a road tangential to hers. At least, she assumed that straight lines could exist as tangents to each other; financial calculations had never necessitated learning Euclidean geometry in detail - or at all.
Gilda began to feel a now-familiar warm feeling spreading through her chest just above her sternum, not unlike the feeling that one gets after a swift hit to the gut, but more pleasant and not likely to necessitate a trip to the hospital. The first time that she had felt this way was in Cloudsdale, during the time of her friendship with Rainbow Dash. Gilda had rediscovered it after reuniting with her all those years later, before they realized how much they had changed and what that meant for the odds of being able to be around each other. She had finally reacquired the old feeling of friendship from all of those years ago once Greta and herself had realized just how much they both had in common: they were both griffons, they both knew how to be insufferable jerks to anything that moved and they both believed that when it came down to it, they would esteem a higher value to money than they did to anything else.
Gilda was glad that she now had a few friends among her own kind, which would have been impossible before her outlook had been changed. She kept watching Greta and resolved to talk to her for a bit before she visited the library; after all, there would always be time for that later.
Funny. She could’ve sworn that she had felt something pleasant a few seconds ago. Oh well, it probably wasn’t important. She advanced towards Greta, wondering why she had never noticed before just how annoying she was.

“Alright, we’re all here now, Twilight. What was it that ya wanted ta discuss?” Applejack asked as Rarity finally entered the throne room housing the Cutie Map. For some reason, being in the castle made her feel slightly uneasy. As this was not her usual mood, and seeing as her friends did not deserve an uncomfortable friend, she chose instead to focus on Rarity, who was trotting quite proudly through the room. She sighed quietly as the fashionista made her way to her seat, seemingly unconcerned about her tardiness except for a brief look of polite apology directed at the alicorn seated on her throne.
No doubt this was her idea of “fashionably late”, a concept completely alien to the farm-raised mare. All fancy ponies seemed to act as if being slightly late to important meetings was in style, yet they came late so often that it should have been going out of style. Unfortunately it never did, freeing them up to use the expression “fashionably late” to justify all manner of laziness and irresponsibility with an appeal to the customs of the haughty ponies of wealth and high social standing who decided what was “in” or “out” at that moment in time, and by extension who was worth the time or effort for aspiring career ponies to socialize with in order to impress those in positions deemed more important than their own.
Just then, this surprisingly intelligent train of thought running along the tracks of Applejack’s mind was derailed by a confusing locomotive made up of old bicycle parts and impossible colours sent screaming in the opposite direction.
“Ooh ooh! My turn! Obviously Princess Celestia is being systematically seduced by a Mary Sue-ish alicorn OC who is revealed to be her long-lost sister Princess Cosmo, a secretly malevolent individual who wishes to manipulate Celestia into becoming Nightmare Sol in order to bring about The Day That Never Ends.”
That one was all Pinkie Pie. As always, she had projectile vomited whatever was bouncing around inside of her head out into the real world, forcing it into the unsuspecting ears of any innocent ponies unfortunate enough to be within earshot of her loud voice. And yes, her friends had indeed heard the last five words of her sentence as capital letters, yet none questioned it, for it was just “Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie.”
“Darling, wherever do you get these strange ideas?” asked Rarity. “I’m quite sure that Princess Celestia would never allow herself to be corrupted or manipulated by so vile an individual, sister or not. And what in Equestria is an oh-see?”
Pinkie popped up from beneath the Map next to Rarity, obtaining a startled look from the marshmallow coloured mare. Her voice took on a sagely tone as her eyes relaxed to become half-lidded and her smile disappeared entirely, leaving behind an expression that seemed to be one of intense concentration and sadness; not unlike a mage who has lived far too long and seen horrors the likes of which would drive weaker minds to the brink of insanity out of the need to survive the sight.
“Well, you see, my child,” Pinkie said slowly and deliberately, “an ‘OC’ is a form of wish fulfillment on the part of an author of a borrowed universe, or an unofficial individual that serves to create tension from elements that had not existed prior to that moment in an established fictional work. They are artificial beings inserted into the narrative as a sort of catalyst for future events or just for the fun of it. I believe that you will have seen many of the worst before this story is over.”
It was then that Applejack decided to interrupt the conversation between the prissy pony and her hyperactive friend, if only to prevent Rarity from taking up more valuable apple bucking time with questions regarding Pinkie’s perception of reality and/or sanity.
“Listen ya’ll: as interestin’ as all o’ this here talk is, I’m havin’ a hard time understandin’ why we were all called here. So, Twilight, would ya kindly explain the reason for us bein’ here?”
“Thank you, Applejack,” Twilight replied. “Now that I have your attention, I would like to address the reason for your presence at the Frindship Castle today. Recently, I have been in correspondence with Princesses Celestia and Luna regarding a matter of great importance. I will tell you about the nature of this matter shortly, just as soon as you all swear that you will not tell anypony outside of our circle of friends.”
Just then, Rainbow Dash decided to speak up.
“Hang on for just a second there, Twilight. What about Spike? Or Starlight?”
“What about them?” Twilight asked, not understanding the reason for the interruption.
“I mean, what about them secret-wise? You can’t seriously tell us that you mean for us to keep this a secret from them. Come on, they’re as much your friends as we are.”
Twilight looked perplexed for a moment, as if her ears had taken in what Rainbow was saying but her mind had yet to arrange the sequence of sounds into words that she could understand. Then, her face shifted to an expression of realization, as if this were the first time that such a problem had crossed her mind.
“Yes… I probably should tell them too, shouldn’t I.”

A few hours later, Twilight arrived with Starlight and Spike in tow, the two attempting to recount to her the events of an impossible adventure to which they had been privy. Spike was the one talking at the moment.
“Twilight, I swear that we’re not lying, Dragons’ Honour! We really did travel diagonally through space time!”
“Spike, somehow I feel that you may be exaggerating the events of this morning just a tiny bit.”
Starlight took her turn next.
“Twilight, Spike’s really telling the truth! Those three fillies that are always running around here, the… erm, the CMC?”
“Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
“Right, them. They said that a brown stallion with an hourglass cutie mark had told them about a colt who had yet to obtain his cutie mark.”
“You mean Time Turner?”
“Oh. I thought his name was Doctor Hooves.”
“He prefers to be referred to simply as The Doctor, for whatever reason.”
“Well, we listened to them and thought that it would be fun to help them out, so we followed all four into some sort of blue box -”
“You mean that you were avoiding another friendship lesson.”
“Can you blame me? You tried to turn bathtime into a friendship lesson last week, and as a fully grown mare I am still offended by the fact that you believe I need help.”
“It was after your bath, and you were making a mess of your mane. I was just trying to provide an object lesson in helpfulness.”
At that, Spike decided that convincing Twilight of the truthfulness of their incredible story was not worth the possibility of psychological trauma, so he ran ahead of the two ponies into the throne room and left them to argue over Twilight’s status as a mane style professional in the hallway.
A few minutes later the two similarly coloured individuals appeared in the doorway, their expressions unreadable. Spike resolved to leave Twilight alone for the day.
“Right, now that we’re all here, all of us, gathered in one room, under one roof, very secure, very private, magical harmony-based crystalline walls and all of that wonderful stuff, let’s discuss my reason for requesting this meeting.”
Now that everyone was taking the time to look, they noticed that Twilight and Starlight seemed to have been awake for days, with the classic combination of bags, puffy eyelids and perpetually dissatisfied expressions that made them look like they had taken a bit too hard to the salt lick and had been dragged away on separate stretchers to a hospital situated in an industrial complex that specialized in manufacturing foghorns. This caused for them to wonder exactly which project Twilight had forced herself into finishing as a result of her unwavering loyalty to her old mentor, Princess Celestia.
“Here is the news: I have been working on a new teleportation spell.”
Almost all of the faces around the table dropped slightly at hearing this announcement; in fact, only Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie kept smiling: Fluttershy because she was very happy for her friend and Pinkie because she was listening to me narrate the story with my great sense of humour. Or she thought I was stupid. I can’t tell.
“Twilight,” Rarity said, “we are truly very happy for you, and we understand how important magic is to an alicorn of your abilities, but there is one small problem: don’t you already have a teleport spell?”
“Yes, but there are two small problems with the one that I use: range and number of passengers. I can only travel so far in one go, and multiple jumps exhaust me quickly; more so if I happen to be transporting ponies or objects other than myself. Thus, I have been hard at work on a new spell that alleviates those two issues.”
Applejack was suddenly very interested in the conversation. After all, if they could find a way to build a machine capable of replicating the spell like Twilight did with Tank’s harness, then the Apples may just be looking at an efficient apple transport and delivery system. Although she stuck steadfastly to tradition, she realized that with a pair of trouble makers like the Flim Flam brothers around it paid to be ahead. So, being curious, she naturally asked, “Well, how does this here spell work, sugarcube?” and instantly regretted it.
Out of thin air a massive sheet of paper appeared, covered in runic symbols, notes in sloppy hornwriting and poems made to look like crosses between sonnets, limericks and free verse styles of alternating rhyme. Starlight reacted within seconds.
“Wait a minute! You mean to tell me that the work I’ve lost five nights’ worth of good sleep over was a new teleportation spell? You insisted that it was a friendship lesson!”
Twilight nervously chuckled out a response.
“Eh-heh. Well, did you manage to figure out what we were working on?”
“No, you never let me see the full diagram!”
“Sorry. Sworn to secrecy between the princesses and myself,” Twilight hesitantly replied. Starlight took a step back to fume in silence. Twilight took this as her opportunity to enter into one of her trademark lectures on the science of magic.
“So, anyway, here are the plans. The spell works differently from the popular version in several ways, the most important of which is this: it bypasses both space and time. While the one that I normally use breaks a pony up into their component particles and then magically sends those off at faster-than-light speeds to the target destination for reconstruction, it is still affected by the amount of space between the target and current destinations. The greater the distance between the two, the more magic it exhausts to start up. This amount is multiplied by the quantity of matter accompanying the traveller, as that matter takes up additional space that requires more energy to provide space for on the other side by creating a momentary vacuum directly inside of the target zone; you know, to ensure that you don’t arrive on the other side made up partly of air or dust. While the new spell still has the restraint on quantity of matter, it is severely downplayed by the fact that it requires a constant amount of magic to start up: it doesn’t matter whether you wish to move two hooves or two hundred miles, the amount of magic required to do so will change only based on how much stuff you’re transporting, not how far you’re going.”
Twilight stopped to take a look around the table, observing the faces around her. Surprisingly, they weren’t as blank as she had expected; spending time with her must have been good for something.
The first to speak was Fluttershy, who had one very important question to ask: “So… um… h-how dangerous is it?”
Twilight started explaining immediately.
“We don’t know. It behaves unusually, unlike any other that I’ve seen before. It refuses to be cast by normal unicorns; this isn’t due to complexity, as far as I can tell. It just doesn’t respond to unicorn magic. However, introduce an earth pony to the mix and the spell starts to work gradually. Have them touch and it works exactly as intended, yet neither myself nor the princesses can figure out why it needs an earth pony in order to function. Alicorns, being part earth pony, can cast it just fine.”
Twilight paused to take a breath, then continued. “Another unique trait of this spell is the dangerous bit: it takes time to charge up, yet it affects the target object even as it is prepared, forcing it into a state between material and immaterial that becomes more distinct as it comes closer to completion. The danger here is what could happen if this charging process were to be interrupted before teleportation. Obviously these are all hypotheses, as neither the princesses nor myself are willing to put anypony in that kind of danger.”
Twilight uncaringly continued her relentless verbal assault against her five friends. The worst affected was Rainbow Dash, who seemed to be fading away before their very eyes.
“There are three foreseeable possibilities: the target object, creature or pony will be permanently stuck in the transition phase, unable to interact with the physical world ordinarily, if at all. Second: the target will become fully immaterial permanently and be stuck in some sort of “limbo”. Thirdly: the target will be deconstructed atom by atom and spread out across all of space time and the immaterial plane, killing them instantly. A third restraint is that although the spell bypasses time as well as space, it cannot be used by living beings to travel through time; I already tried. My hypothesis is that the perception of the target affects the capabilities of the spell: ponies, perceiving time as passing at one second per second, are unable to change that constant. However, objects, having no perception of time, can be sent to any time one wishes. I gave myself an extra quill two minutes in the past at one point.”
Rainbow Dash was dead, or as close as she could be while still breathing.
Fluttershy, on the other hoof, looked ready to respond again.
“Um… if you don’t mind me asking, what are -”
At that moment, the six friends felt a peculiar sensation coursing through their flanks.
I swear that doesn’t mean anything weird.
They looked down to see their cutie marks pulsating in rhythm, faint colours rippling off into the solid expanse of their pastel coats. Translucent copies of their marks detached from their flanks, heading towards a central position on the Cutie Map just above a holographic image of their Friendship Castle. As soon as their marks found each other, they began to arrange themselves so that the five non-alicorn marks were orbiting the large pink and purple magical sparkle situated precisely above the castle. All five marks then began to move in tandem, seeking out the destination of the next friendship problem.
They took a meandering path out over the town of Ponyville, a detour at Manehattan, took their own sweet time to pass over the city of Canterlot, sniffed out and explored literally every single crack and crevice on the table, returned to the centre of the Map just to tick me off and eventually came to rest over Fluttershy’s cottage.
I swear...
No, wait. They’re on the move again. Oh, thank goodness.
Okay, here we go.
They took a roundabout journey designed to irritate me over to the once-kingdom of Griffonstone.
The friends were puzzled; only once before had the land of Equestria ever had need of all of their talents simultaneously for a friendship problem, and that trip had become a living nightmare of brainwashing and indoctrination that should certainly never be seen on a TV show rated for children of all ages.
Regardless, as they stared at the six cutie marks floating over the small village of Griffonstone, Rainbow Dash came to life, realizing that as there were five cutie marks on the Map, this was to be the start of another epic adventure that she would be able to experience with her friends and share with her fans once it had reached its conclusion. She sat up, then shot into the air, all the while performing all manner of complex aerial maneuvers in the enclosed space as she celebrated the prospective excitement of the next few days.
“Aw yeah! This is gonna be totally awesome! Hey, Twilight, do you think that we’ll be able to stop another evil dictator this time? Or maybe meet another draconequus that we can beat the stuffing out of? Or maybe liberate the griffons from a new communist regime?”
As Rainbow rambled on about potential adventures and her expectations for the trip to the tired alicorn, no one around the table cast their gaze to Applejack, for good reason. After all, at the moment she was being as unobtrusive and quiet as their meek friend Fluttershy. She was seated completely ordinarily, if slightly hunched over. Her hat was in pristine condition, her coat had just the right ratio of orange to apple stains, and her face was adorned with a polite smile.
If anyone were to look towards her right then, the back wall would have seemed infinitely more interesting than the mare seated on her blue crystalline throne. That said, her mind at the moment was a rather interesting place. Overall, her thoughts were placid, sensible and determined, as was usual for the mature pony. However, in one corner of her mind there existed a tiny disturbance in the tranquility that had been bothering her since the meeting had been called, a ripple in the calm environment of her subconscious. She was attempting to ignore it, and it showed; this small discrepancy was being heavily suppressed, but it continued to withstand the onslaught of denial.
No matter how hard she attempted to remain positive, some unexpressed fear continued to linger in the back of her mind. She couldn't understand why; yes, she had approached other friendship assignments rather tentatively at first - that much could not be denied. However, during those times she'd always had a reason that could be succintly and rationally explained. Now, however, she only felt a confusing sense of dread that could not be understood. It was puzzling to her. She had no reason to worry, and as such her current feelings were completely out of place.
Why did she feel this way?

The Arrival

View Online

The six friends made their way to Griffonstone, most of them determined to end the mission as quickly as possible in order to improve the lives of those around them and get back to their own. Rainbow Dash, as always, was flying a few metres above their heads, performing the occasional loop or roll to stave off the boredom due to the monotony of the long path upon which they were travelling.
Along the way, Pinkie Pie had attempted to persuade her friends to play games with her to break the tedium of the journey; these ranged from “I Spy With My Little Eye” to “I Spy With My Medium-sized Eye” to “I Spy With My Big Eye” to “Where Did This Third Eye Come From” to the extremely entertaining “I Spy With - THUD.” The thud in question was the sound of her unconscious body hitting the floor, the result of one of the many rocks on a nearby cliff face dislodging itself from the hard surface and striking the pink pony atop the head.
Thus, carrying Pinkie, the group gradually made its way to the outer limits of the griffon kingdom. Rainbow Dash had spent some time along the way wondering how her old friend had been doing, and whether her quest to spread kindness to the other griffons in their small settlement had been successful. Rarity, on the other hoof, was only interested in sprucing up the village in any way that she could; from what Rainbow and Pinkie had told her, there were precious few supplies in the area, and even fewer individuals with fashion sense. The attire of the citizens sounded absolutely awful, as if they were unable to distinguish between rags and cloth. To her, this state of affairs was simply unacceptable, perhaps even positively dreadful. She had resolved to decide on the correct adjectives once she saw the place for herself.
She didn’t have long to wait.
They were almost to the top of the winding mountain path that led directly to what one would call the “entrance” of Griffonstone, had there been one in a recognizable state. Rainbow flew slightly upwards and ahead of her friends in order to get a peek at the town. And to say that she had beaten Applejack.
Strangely, Applejack had largely kept to herself throughout the entirety of the journey, missing opportunities to insert a snarky remark into the middle of a conversation, talk about her family or spout one of her trademarked “Countryisms™." She seemed to be deep in thought regarding something, an activity largely left to Twilight or Rarity by the other ponies in the group.
And she was. Deep in thought, I mean. She was… ruminating, that’s a good word. She was ruminating about the thoughts and concerns she’d been having since she had arrived at the castle that day. The strange, seemingly random feeling of dread she had felt long before any trouble had even been reported by the Map. She had thought, nay, believed that one of her friends was going to die that very day, and the feeling had only intensified as the day dragged on and they neared Griffonstone. She couldn’t explain it, but she was always certain of her instincts, and this one was not in any way subtle.
Rainbow noticed her friend and occasional competitor’s lack of enthusiasm on her ascent. She thought about the pros and cons of abandoning her lead position, decided that whatever was bothering one of her friends was more important than getting to the top first and settled next to Applejack.
“So, how’s it going Applejack?” She watched and waited for an answer. “Applejack? Applejack! Hey, Applejack!”
Applejack blinked, as if awakening and realizing her current location and activity. Seeing Rainbow awaiting a reply to a question that she had not heard, she responded the only way she knew how.
“Huh? Oh, sorry Rainbow. What was it ya said? My head was in the clouds fer a bit there.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Rainbow replied, “You’ve been acting weird like that ever since we first set off. Normally you love to talk to us, so what gives? Is something wrong?”
Applejack wondered briefly if confiding in her friend was wise, but abandoned that concern soon after it appeared; this was her friend, Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty and second most dependable pony in all of Equestria. How could she doubt her? But, in the same vein, how could she tell her about her concerns without seeming paranoid?
“Well, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s botherin’ me. I just got a feelin’ that won’t go away, ya know? Like… like one o’ my friends ain’t gonna be okay after this trip’s over.”
Rainbow was about to respond, right up until she felt a freezing chill crawl along her spine; it was as if a centipede had managed to dig under her skin and was running laps on her vertebral column, unceasingly demanding her attention. She was hesitant to turn away from a worried friend, but she needed to assess the danger. She took to the air to see over the heads of the others. They had stopped, obviously sharing an unspoken agreement on one point.
Something was wrong.
Not wrong in the sense of being incorrect, like a wrong answer or option. It was wrong in the sense of being so off, like a pony clad in a black cloak wearing a white smiling mask. Superficially, the town looked the way it had when Rainbow and Pinkie had left. Actually, no, that’s incorrect: it looked better. There were signs of recent repairs performed on certain buildings and houses, as well as some new structures that were quite obviously newly erected. By all accounts, the town was prospering in its own simple, charmingly rural way. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the griffons; rather, it was the lack thereof.
They were gone. It was as if every griffon living in Griffonstone had simultaneously flown off and left all of their belongings behind. Stalls and stands stood alone, occasionally sporting a ripped cloth covering that suggested a collision or struggle. Carts were left standing upright, upended or lying on their sides in the middle of pathways or on the edges. Some could even be seen lying far from any road, sticking out of the roofs of buildings or a few hundred metres outside of the town’s boundaries, as if the griffons had taken off while carrying them and only shrugged them off well after they were in the air. Houses were seen with open doors, doors being supported by only one hinge, doors lying on the ground after being blown off of their hinges, even walls with holes that suggested some individuals had been so desperate to leave that they had burrowed through when they couldn’t find an entrance fast enough.
The friends looked on in confusion. As a collective, they wondered what could have caused so frantic a flight: was it an animal attack? A military assault? Mass hysteria?
As individuals, their thoughts were not much better.
Rainbow Dash wondered what had happened to Gilda, and whether her foalhood friend had escaped intact.
Twilight wondered what sort of anomaly could spook such a proud race into fleeing so suddenly, or whether they were trying to escape at all.
Rarity wondered whether this was the work of troublemakers such as the Diamond Dogs, and how the griffons were faring.
Fluttershy wondered whether whatever it was was coming back, how dangerous it could be, and exactly what it was.
Pinkie Pie wondered about nothing, for she was still lying on Applejack’s back, unconscious.
Applejack just stared, for she knew that this was part of the reason that she had been dreading the trip. Now, she hoped more than ever that her fears would not be realized.

The small group stalked silently through the streets of Griffonstone, checking each building along the way to find any of the griffons that may have been left behind. They continued to cautiously make their way towards high ground in order to get a full scope of the land and spot any survivors of the event. Upon reaching an intersection, the six decided to split up into pairs in order to more effectively cover a larger area while still being protected from any foes that they may encounter along the way. Two were wary of this plan, but it was carried through for the sake of urgency.
One of the pairs had been chosen to travel along a road that led to the southernmost end of the settlement. They stayed close together, only occasionally separating in order to scope out a house or check under one of the few stalls still left standing after the exodus of the innocents in the settlement, yet even then they always stayed within sight of each other while scanning the length of the dilapidated streets. They remained silent, communicating only through gestures and expressions, hoping that no one would hear their approach. If anyone were here, they would much rather a confrontation ended nonviolently; it would make everything much easier for them.
Upon reaching the boundary of Griffonstone, the pair made its way back to the intersection that served as a meeting point for the six. They rejoined with their allies and continued onwards to the highest point in Griffonstone. There was very little conversation, and much of it consisted of the odds of survival for any of the griffons that may have been left behind in the mad dash to leave.
They eventually reached the top of the pathway and scoped out the town in every direction. What they saw in equal parts shocked and pleased them: there were six mares at the entrance to Griffonstone who stood dumbstruck at the signs of pandemonium that they saw before them. They seemed terribly unprepared for any disaster outside of a chipped hoof or a short fall, and these observers would use that to their advantage. First, however, they needed to report to their superiors and ready the troops for battle.
However short and bloody it may be.

The six Elements stood directly outside Griffonstone, apprehensive of any activity that may have been occurring at that moment within its boundaries. While they were quite certain that it was deserted, they had all been wrong before; being wrong on this point could have some dire consequences, and none of them wanted to see their friends hurt.
Fluttershy was the first to speak up.
“It looks so scary. D-do we have to go in?”
Twilight, ever rational, responded, “Well, this is obviously what we’re here for. Though I am wondering why we would be called here if it’s not really a friendship lesson that needs to be learnt: I mean, there doesn’t seem to be as much as a single griffon nearby.”
“Yes. Well, we would do well to be on the lookout for any suspicious characters on our way through this area. After all, safety first,” Rarity added.
With that, the group made their way into the small town. They moved around a cart that seemed to have been thrown or launched quite violently through the air only to come to rest against the wall of what seemed to be a building used to deal with currency of some kind. Rarity assumed that it was bits by what was left of the design of the large sign hanging above the entrance. Applejack, curious, peered closer at the goods that had fallen off of the cart; they appeared to be scones of some sort, though she could not discern their flavour by smell alone, as she was rather unaccustomed to griffon cuisine. Or most cuisine that had nothing to do with life on the farm, apples or heavy doses of sugar, courtesy of Pinkie Pie and the Cakes. Regardless, they seemed to be made with time and effort, and she deemed it only fair to comment on the satisfactory nature of the work ethic of the baker, whoever it may have been.
“Well now, these look pretty good. I wonder who baked ‘em.”
“What looks good?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“These scones lyin’ ‘round this here cart. I was just wonderin’ who baked ‘em.”
“Huh,” Rainbow responded. She seemed to be thinking about something, so Applejack decided not to bother her. Rather, she joined the others in examining the nearest building that most resembled a house-like structure and decided to ask the obvious question.
“So, who’s goin’ in first?”
Rarity responded, “Well, don’t you think that that may be misconstrued as us attempting to make off with any valuables that may be inside? After all, if our experiences with griffons have been any indication, they are by nature greedy, suspicious, cynical creatures. In Ponyville it may be fine to just trot into the home of a friend or even a random stranger, but I believe that we may be required to operate by different rules here.”
“Yeah, ya may be right,” Applejack admitted, “So, what’re we gonna do then? I dunno ‘bout anypony else, but I don’t much like our chances of findin’ someone else ‘round here if our initial impressions are anythin’ ta go by. Maybe we should explore for a little bit, ya know; just enough ta do a once over and then leave ta find out from surroundin’ settlements ‘bout what happened here, maybe collect some clues in a safer area.”
“That seems like a good plan,” Twilight replied, “So, what are we going to do after that?”
“Well, shucks Twilight. I didn’t think that far ahead. Horse apples, we don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doin’ here. I was just throwin’ somethin’ out there, seein’ what sticks.”
“Alright, fair enough. I think it’s a good idea; we’ll search through the area briefly and then work out our next move from there.”
With that, the six friends made their way through the town, periodically stopping to search a potential hiding place for a terrified griffon, disappointed each time when every crevice or hole turned out to hold nothing more than dust bunnies and spiders. They pressed on, determined to see the job to its completion: lives may have been counting on them, and they would not disappoint.
However, the deeper they got, the more paranoid Applejack got. She would have sworn that she was constantly seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, yet every time she turned around there stood nothing moving, merely a stationary building or the occasional tall grass blade swaying contentedly in the breeze. Her friends were starting to take notice, but resisted the temptation to tell her that there was nothing to worry about. After all, nopony could guarantee that.
So they advanced on, reaching the middle of the town shortly after having left the entrance. They decided to take a quick rest to calm their nerves and chat for a bit about mundane, unimportant topics.
“Just how hard was she hit on the head?” Rainbow asked, gesturing towards the smiling pink pony perched unconsciously upon Applejack’s back.
“Honestly, I don’t know. It seemed to be a large rock, but nothing that would warrant such a long bout of unconsciousness,” Twilight replied.
“Maybe it had more to do with the height?” Rarity suggested.
“Oh, I hope Pinkie gets better soon,” Fluttershy added.
And, just to round off the conversation, Applejack threw in her two bits.
“Do ya hear that?”
The others looked towards Applejack and began to strain their ears to pick up on any sounds that may have been out of the ordinary. The pros of farm work far outweighed the cons as far as Applejack was concerned, and this was one instance where it could be seen in action. While ponies who lived in towns and cities learned to tune out ambient noise and sounds that seemed unimportant, it worked against them when they needed to listen for unusual quiet or gradual sounds in an area: they tended to tune it out as ambient noise. Applejack, on the other hoof, while unable to live in a city due to her tendency to pay attention to every sound, sight and smell that came her way, fared far better in a remote environment than the average pony simply because she ignored less and listened more.
Or at least that’s what she believed, and if I’ve learned a thing about Applejack, it’s this: do not attempt to contradict her beliefs, or you will be fought to a standstill. That is, if you have strength enough to stand once it’s over.
Anyway: gradually, her friends managed to pick up on a faint droning sound, sort of like a kazoo that’s hooked up to a leafblower on its lowest setting. It was difficult to hear above the ordinary sounds of nature quietly singing their symphony, but there was one thing that made it easier to hear: it was getting louder. Gradually; so gradually, in fact, that the four mares barely picked on the steady increase in volume, but it was undeniably there. They picked themselves up from the ground and looked to the sky. Rainbow Dash and Twilight flew up to take a closer look while the other four stayed behind to hear what the two winged ponies had to say, occasionally shooting awkward glances towards Fluttershy, who apparently had forgotten that she could fly again.
Twilight and Rainbow returned shortly, looking as confused as the ponies on the ground. Rainbow opted to report on their observations made while scouting.
“There’s nothing up there.”
Perplexed, the ponies looked around to identify the source of the sound, hoping that it had emerged from one of the many objects or buildings in their vicinity. They searched everywhere, if only to obtain some sense of certainty regarding their current level of safety; however grim it may have been. They ambled cautiously around the area, occasionally stopping to peer off into the distance or check the interior of a structure to ensure that the droning was not coming from a nearby object or creature.
The sound stopped.
They began to become worried, the source of the droning remaining unknown. They stumbled around awkwardly placed objects, searching for something concrete. Anything at that point, really. They did not wish to be caught unawares in so unguarded an area.
On a whim, Applejack placed her ear to the ground. Her face became a mask of concentration as she attempted to listen through the amplified clopping of hooves on dirt and find a sound that could be described as recognizable amid all the noise travelling through the floor. As she listened on her frown lifted, gradually replaced by an expression of worry, then of fear, then of terror. She lifted her head and turned to face her friends, managing to shout out one urgent instruction.
“RUN!”
No sooner had the word left her mouth than the ground exploded into a violent ocean of black and green that rocked the town to its foundations and threatened to engulf the mares where they stood.

The changelings rocketed above buildings, shot along pathways and thundered down sewage lines: absolutely all locations needed to be searched in order to find the Elements of Harmony. They had lost track of the six moments after they had erupted from the ground, and they were not eager to disappoint their leader. After all, she expected results.
Unfortunately for them, Twilight had been quick on the draw. As soon as Applejack had started to appear worried, Twilight had started charging up a teleport spell. Thanks to her the six mares were safely holed up in the town library, working on a strategy to escape unscathed as the changelings approached their position.
Well, they would have been, had it not been for the fact that they were really six minus one.
“Twilight, you egghead! Where’s Fluttershy?” Rainbow demanded of the lavender alicorn.
“I-I… I… I don’t know! She was with the rest of us, right? She didn’t wander off or anything, or at least not as far as I could tell!”
“Twilight, I swear, you better start praying that Fluttershy’s okay, because if she’s not then there will be a price to pay, a very steep price, one that you will not be able to afford. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I… Okay. Listen to me Rainbow, please. I was sure that I had maintained a line of sight with her the whole time that I was charging up the spell.”
Rarity looked towards the two, her expression one of horror.
“This wasn’t the…”
“No, it wasn’t the new one. I would only ever use that one if I had no other option. But, the rule still stands: in order for a spell to be cast to completion, one has to maintain virtual line of sight with the subject until discharge. I have to assume that a changeling or piece of rubble blocked my virtual line of sight with Fluttershy.”
Rainbow had calmed down fractionally, looking as if she only wanted to strangle a changeling instead of hurt Twilight.
“Fine, fine then. What are we gonna do, huh? Go charging in and end those bugs for trying to hurt us?”
Rarity interrupted the conversation to give a more promising option.
“Darling, relax. I’m sure that if we just calm down and think of an appropriate solution, we will be able to - hang on.”
She performed a quick three-hundred and sixty degree rotation, turning back to face Twilight after her inspection was done. She was visibly distressed.
“Where’s Applejack?”
“Applejack?” Twilight turned around to look in the other direction. “She’s right…”
Twilight had turned to point out where Applejack had been relative to her position, yet there wasn’t an orange farmer there. She could only see Pinkie’s unconscious form peacefully lying upon the brickwork, smiling away.
“What? Bu-but I-I-I-”
“Twilight,” Rainbow spoke dangerously softly, “Find them. Now.”

Fluttershy was hurt. She was sure of that much. The pain kept her from being sure of much else. She thought that she was surrounded by changelings, but she was also aware of the possibility that it was a hallucination. After all, she was losing quite a bit of blood.
She looked down to her stomach, just barely being able to make out a spike or pole of some sort emerging through her fur, though it was hard to tell when her eyes had blurred over from crying so much. As far as she could tell, she had been launched into the air when the black and green things that looked like changelings had blasted through the floor, and then her world had become a lot more painful around her stomach area. It wasn’t so bad, though; in fact, the pain was becoming a bit duller, and the world seemed a bit more cheerful. Though her vision was beginning to darken around the edges.
She began to wonder if a nap would make her feel better. She wasn’t all too sure of what was wrong, only that something was amiss. She looked back to her stomach. Oh, right. That. Well, it was a problem that could easily be fixed.
She began to press her wings against the wall behind her, attempting to exert enough force to slide forwards along the spike until she reached the end. She reached her hooves forwards, grasped the end of the pole, and began to pull herself along. Soon, the end of the pole disappeared into her stomach and emerged from her back, sending her plummeting to the ground below.
She landed with a dull thud on the rocky pathway and slowly rolled onto her side to observe her surroundings.
From what she could make out, an orange blob was fighting with some black blobs who had formed an alliance with the green lines. The black and green armies were settling down to reevaluate their fighting strategy, as it did not seem to be working on the orange blob very well. She idly wondered if any of them had attempted to resolve their conflicts over some tea and cookies.

Applejack had exited the library and was charging along one of the pathways that had survived the changeling onslaught, searching frantically for Fluttershy while battling her way through the sea of chitinous bodies that attempted to halt her progress as she neared the site of their escape.
She reached an intersection, bucked a changeling clear through a wall, turned right and galloped on. She knew where Fluttershy was, and she was determined not to fail her.
She jumped clear over three more changelings, introduced the face of another to a wall so hard that its grandparents winced in their graves, hopped on the heads of various individuals to reach one of the rooftops and mounted the back of another to use it as a makeshift transport when it attempted to fly past her.
She tugged back on what she assumed were its antennae in order to avoid a building, climbing in altitude to get above the horde. Once at a safe height, Applejack peered downwards in an effort to spot her unfortunate friend.
She saw nothing but black, green, a few building rooftops, some grey stone and - there, a patch of yellow.
She manipulated her hapless carrier into a nosedive and hopped off at the last second before an unpleasant meeting between herself and the ground, allowing her changeling mount to be reduced to a green smear outside what was left of a family owned pastry shop.
She bucked her way through a few more changelings that were attempting to provide a barrier that would halt her advance towards her injured friend.
Upon reaching her, she briefly turned away.
Fluttershy had two holes on her body, one on her back to the left of her spine, and the other near her stomach just below her ribcage. She was bleeding profusely from her wounds and staring blankly ahead, mumbling some non-sequiturs about blobs and tea parties. The blood from her wounds had pooled into a small puddle that surrounded her limp body where she lay, and her fur was stained crimson on her legs and barrel. She seemed to be slipping away even as Applejack watched; she gently lifted her up, placed her on her back, turned to face the library, and ran for all she was worth.

Twilight blasted through the head of a changeling with a disintegration spell as the three and a body continued their search for Applejack.
Apparently, Chrysalis had finally realized something important about all-out combat: aim to kill. The changelings weren’t playing nicely like they had at the wedding. None of them were waiting for an opportunity to capture the four or show off their shape-shifting abilities by transforming into a foal with a pegleg and eyepatch or some other ridiculously arbitrary feat. Their queen had made it clear that they were to kill the Elements of Harmony, and kill them they would; they did not want to have to confront the consequences of failure.
Rarity dodged a blast of green magic directed at her purple mane, stopped to frown at her would-be attacker and retaliated by telekinetically smashing the drone into a wall. She looked up to Rainbow Dash, who had just sent one of the soldiers crashing through the roof of an establishment that she was sure had been important to someone once upon a time, but was barely holding together now.
They continued their assault on the enemy army, gradually making progress in a direction that they hoped was in Applejack and Fluttershy’s direction.
Twilight was slammed into a wall by a soldier, slumping onto the ground in pain. The offender approached to score another hit and got blasted through the abdomen for his troubles, not realizing that alicorns are kinda powerful.
Other changelings attempted to capitalize on Twilight’s weakened state, diving into the holes in the floor from their initial emergence and resurfacing somewhere close to her, only to be fended off by Rainbow Dash divebombing them or picking them up to launch them into other buildings, and Rarity making use of her telekinesis and light spells to stun and throw any changeling hapless enough to be caught in her field.
As for Pinkie: she was bouncing around like a rubber ball on a concrete road, unconsciously slamming into changelings at forces that either killed them on impact or stunned them long enough to be finished off by one of her friends. Never before had they been happier that Pinkie was just being Pinkie.
As the four struggled on to make their way to their helpless comrades, they were shocked to see Applejack bobbing and weaving through the crowd to get to them, dodging all of the hits meant for Fluttershy and shrugging off any that managed to reach her. As soon as she saw her friends, she gestured for them to follow her; Twilight got up and galloped off, Rarity took off after her and Rainbow grabbed Pinkie Pie at the apex of her next arc, zooming after her friends.
Applejack led them to one of the holes and immediately jumped in, landing in one of a series of tunnels that resembled a rabbit warren, except scaled up immensely. Her friends hesitated initially, then dove after her when they saw the sheer volume of changelings taking up pursuit.
They landed quite heavily, paused to recover from the impact and spotted Applejack running down a branch of the network.
“Where… are… we… going?” Twilight struggled to get out between breaths as she futilely raced after the orange mare who was never less than ten metres ahead of the others. Rainbow felt that she could have caught up, but the ceiling of the tunnel that they were in was too low to allow flight of any kind.
“That don’t matter; we just gotta get away from them!” Applejack shouted back, “Twilight, we need for ya ta use that new spell o’ yours!”
“No, I promised that I would only use it in emergencies!”
“What does this look like?!” Applejack shouted in disbelief.
Twilight briefly considered their options: they could try to fight their way out, which - assuming they survived - would take too long, leaving no time to get Fluttershy medical care before she bled out.
They could try her classic teleportation spell, which would exhaust her before they were even halfway back to Ponyville. Multiple jumps within a town were easy, but multiple jumps between distant towns would have her collapse on the way, leaving them down three mares. That would make it far easier for the changelings to catch up with and overwhelm them, which would be rather unfortunate.
Or, they could risk the charging time and use a teleport that could get them to Canterlot in an instant. She could enlist the princesses for help, repelling Chrysalis and negating whatever danger the changeling queen may have posed.
There wasn’t really a choice.
“Okay, I’ll do it. Everypony get ready!”
Twilight began to charge up the spell and locked onto her friends. She selected a target destination and started to pour more and more magic into her horn, hoping against hope that nothing would go wrong.
Had the ponies met up with Murphy, they probably would have viciously… discussed the nature of his law and how inconvenient it was to everyone around him, realizing that all possibilities are likely to occur at some point regardless of probability.
I say this because, mere moments before the spell was completed, a section of the roof caved in as a swarm of changelings burst through to intercept the hapless travellers, separating Fluttershy and Applejack from the rest. And they advanced, an infinite mass of black upon black that refused to show the mares mercy, a thunderous cacophony of clicks and buzzes that moved endlessly forwards; a collective as unstoppable and relentless as a tidal wave is to an ant. And as the lead changeling was about to sink his fangs into Twilight’s neck, just when she could see how the light reflected off of the enamel of his immaculately sharpened and polished canines, her horn discharged.
And the six mares were no more.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. They certainly still existed; they just briefly existed on a higher plane than everyone else. They were travelling through a world between worlds, an area that bypasses normal spacetime to allow instantaneous transportation across any distance, irrespective of possibility.
Due to the nature of the place, all of them were fully conscious and aware of their surroundings; even Pinkie and Fluttershy, who before had not been capable of perceiving their surroundings, were completely aware of everything going on around them.
After their flight, the otherworldly sensation of contentment that they felt in that space was most welcome. Fluttershy couldn’t feel her wounds, Applejack wasn’t focused on her worry, and Pinkie was finally fully conscious. The immaterial, fluid colours that flowed around them were beautiful, appearing as shards of condensed light glowing in all colours of the visible spectrum, and even some wavelengths that could not be considered real. Twilight began to wonder how many dimensions made up that multidimensional area, if it could even be described in terms understood by mortals. It was certainly operating on a higher level than the three dimensional reality to which they were accustomed.
Unfortunately, the peace would not last.
At that moment, the six Elements of Harmony were forced to confront the reality of the incomplete effects of the spell upon Applejack and Fluttershy. It started slowly, sort of like how a machine made to polish surfaces would gradually wear down on a spike or a nail. The first bits to disappear were the tips of their hooves; about the first half a centimetre or so. They then lost a bit of their muzzles, some of the length of their tails, a bit of their spines, and so forth. The areas affected were small, but the effects began to accelerate, the empty spaces steadily growing larger at a much higher rate.
Soon, they were being taken apart, dissected to become part of the ethereal matter making up the higher dimensional space that they had accessed. They were rapidly losing mass and volume, being reduced to pieces of tissue and bits of bone floating through that space until they reached their destination. Two things made this worse for their friends: firstly, they were literally unable to look away.
Due to their transcendence of space in that realm, everywhere they looked they could perceive Applejack and Fluttershy being viciously torn apart, even when they closed their eyes. The image of their friends having the flesh rent from their very bones refused to retreat, no matter how hard they attempted to pretend that that wasn’t what was taking place.
Then… then, there were the screams. Endlessly echoing, undying screams that spanned the length of eternity and resonated within every particle in the universe; pained screams that spoke of immense suffering and torture; relentless, inescapable screams that offered no mercy or comfort for their suffering. Even when they were gone, their screams remained to torment their companions. Even in death, they were still able to make their presence known. Even when they were no longer present, their voices could still be heard; a recursive loop that forever repeated one message broadcasted across all of spacetime, a message that would stand as a testament to their immense suffering. Dying in a land of all, existing in a world of none.
Two words.
“Help us.”

When the four remaining ponies emerged in Canterlot, they felt no comfort in reaching their destination safely. For some reason that they couldn’t remember, they felt worried. They were concerned about something. Something that they were sure was very important.
They began to wonder where their other two friends were, before remembering the matter of Chrysalis and the changelings. Yes, that was probably it. Chrysalis had been a formidable problem before, so she would have been their current concern. They needed to inform the princesses of the return of the changelings, as it was urgent news to everypony involved. If their previous engagement with those deceivers was any indication, they were not to be underestimated when it came to their cunning, trickery or ruthlessness.
Meeting up with Applejack and Fluttershy could wait until later. The changelings were very important business.

The Meeting

View Online

The four mares trotted through the streets of Canterlot, steadily making their way through the city to Celestia's castle. Along the way, they discussed how they were to approach the matter of the changelings’ return. Nopony could guess their intentions or plans: they had disappeared for a long period after their defeat at Cadence and Shining Armour’s hooves, presumed dead for months, then unexpectedly popped up smack-dab in the centre of deserted griffon country. It was entirely possible that they had taken the griffons captive, but that didn’t explain the signs of struggle and escape that had been prominent in the area, nor the thought of the griffons - one of the most notoriously unfriendly, proud races in all of Equestria - all simultaneously fleeing the area. Yes, the changelings had attacked en masse, but that would hardly be a deterrent to a race that would rather stand up to cyclopes than part with an idol.
None of it made any sense, yet the friends were sure that if anyone was capable of answering their questions in full, or at least offer some clues that would prove helpful in unravelling the mystery, it would be the princesses. After all, they had never let them down before… except for that time at the 1000th annual Summer Sun Celebration, the whole Discord issue, the issue of the changelings’ first appearance, failing to have enough idea of former students’ plans to prevent them from almost ending reality itself once, managing to get themselves abducted by plants easily dealt with by an earth pony, failing to keep an eye on former enemies of Equestria crafty enough to turn an ordinary highschool girl into an eldritch abomination capable of total multiversal domination, failure to keep clouds at bay in a frozen environment after the destruction of an ancient artifact designed to work as an evil-and-weather shield; this despite the fact that both had enough power to raise and lower the sun, a celestial body that was so much more difficult to control or move simply due to its heat, size and mass that it was difficult to take them seriously anymore - actually, their whole career had been littered with embarrassing failures when facing problems easily dealt with by ponies in possession of considerably less power than the princesses. Pinkie thought that it almost seemed as if someone was intentionally causing for them to look bad in order to make the heroes seem even more heroic to passive observers when they completed a task that the princesses could not even begin to address.
However, while the princesses were barely capable of keeping a civilization afloat despite the fact that one of them literally had over one thousand years to practice, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t offer advice or suggestions on how to deal with the issue at hand. And it was for that reason that the ponies were making their way to Canterlot Castle at that moment, hoping to gain an audience with Celestia and Luna before either one of them was needed to address some new issue that arose in a far-off corner of their kingdom.
After about ten minutes of travel, the four friends had arrived at the entrance to the castle itself. Twilight peered upwards to look at the balcony of the uppermost room of the structure: there she spotted Celestia, staring directly into the sun through a telescope mounted onto the floor of the platform on which she stood. In a few hours, the day would be over and it would be time for Luna to take up her watch over both the physical and mental well-being of the ponies under her care, ensuring that dreams stayed pleasant and ponies remained unharmed throughout the kingdom under the dome of her brilliant cosmic displays.
Twilight approached one of the guards stationed near the entrance to the castle.
“Good day. I request an audience with the princesses; it is regarding a grave matter of the utmost urgency, requiring that I speak with them immediately.”
“Of course, your majesty,” the guard responded, moving to the side and gesturing for Twilight to enter. As he was moving back into position to block entry once again, Twilight stopped him to allow the other three access.
“They’re my friends, as well as key witnesses. I would rather they accompanied me inside.”
“As you wish,” the guard replied, allowing them all through.
Once they were inside Twilight led them upwards through the castle to Celestia's chamber, pausing occasionally to greet a passing guard or diplomat.
Upon reaching their desired location they were stopped by Celestia’s personal guards who used scanning spells to verify that they were in fact the Princess of Friendship and three of her friends, not impostors with superior knowledge of disguise spells or changelings attempting an invasion.
Finding their claims to be genuine, the guards opened the large double doors to allow them access into the impressive chamber, before magically sealing the entrance once again. Twilight immediately made her way to the open door that led to the observational balcony, leaving her friends to wait for her in the centre of the room. A few moments later she returned, Princess Celestia in tow. The three non-alicorns bowed to her before being asked to rise by the princess, who was curious as to their reasons for arriving on such short notice; not that she was displeased with it. Royal duties and the procedures that come with them do get boring after having to deal with them for a millennium.
Twilight chose to explain their situation.
“Princess Celestia, we have arrived at the castle today to discuss a matter of utmost urgency with you: the changelings have returned, and have presumably made off with or killed every griffon residing in the town of Griffonstone.”
Upon hearing this news, Celestia’s expression did not falter; she merely looked to Twilight’s friends for more information, silently encouraging them to add their perspectives and any useful knowledge that they may have acquired regarding the situation. Rarity was the first to recognise her cue.
“Princess Celestia, what Twilight has told you accurately reflects our views on the situation at present. While we do not wish to be alarmist, there is a possibility that they are planning to somehow infiltrate Equestria and were hoping to use the remote settlement as a covert base of operations.”
“How did you find out about this?” Princess Celestia asked.
“Ooh, I can answer that one!” Pinkie exclaimed excitedly. “I was at Sugar Cube Corner helping Mrs Cake to prepare some yummy pastries for Dr Hooves. He said that he needed them for a trip that he was taking the Cutie Mark Crusaders on. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wild animal came charging into the bakery and knocked over all of the tables on the southern end.” At this point in her tale, Pinkie Pie was performing somersaults while dressed in a ridiculous commando outfit complete with toy rifle and baking soda grenades.
“I knew what needed to be done, so I shouted for Pumpkin and Pound to perform a bull horn maneuver, rushing him on either side as a distraction while I formulated a plan to effectively provide a direct frontal attack without putting any more innocent cakes in danger -”
“Darling, I don’t think that any of that has anything to do with our trip to Griffonstone,” Rarity said, interrupting Pinkie’s attempt at recounting the events preceding their journey. Pinkie froze in midair, her rifle extended to shoot at an imaginary target a few metres in front of her. She looked to Rarity, then to the princess, blushed and dropped to the ground while ripping off her commando outfit and gear. She was about to throw away her rifle, but thought better of it and stowed it away in her mane for safekeeping. Celestia looked thoroughly disappointed.
“Oh. I was hoping to hear more of your daring military conquests, Pinkie. They sounded rather fascinating.”
“Indeed! We wish to hear further regalement of thy undeniably incredible tales in our company, Pinkie,” Princess Luna boomed out as she alighted upon the balcony after her flight to oversee preparations of the next Nightmare Night to take place in Ponyville. “‘Twas the single most thrilling account of sugar-laden protection that we have ever heard in our long lifetime, even more so than the Siege of Lemon Dew Confections, an epic from ancient times far removed from the influences of present events and storytelling conventions.”
Princess Luna purposefully strode into the room, surveying her surroundings to make out Celestia’s unannounced companions. Upon seeing that they were four of the Elements of Harmony, she happily exclaimed, “Oh, now this is a most unexpected occasion! Princess Sparkle, what brings you and your entourage to our humble abode on such short notice?”
“Oh, I don’t consider them an entourage, Princess Luna. They’re my friends, through and through,” Twilight hastily responded.
“I see,” Luna said quietly. She seemed to be deliberating on whether or not to pose a question that she very clearly was hoping to ask. After a short pause, she decided to come out right and say it.
“Twilight Sparkle, where are your other two friends?”
At this, Celestia seemed to perk up, as if she too had been hoping to obtain an answer to the same question but had decided against being the one to insert it into the conversation.
“Oh, why they’re…” Twilight seemed to struggle with her words, as if formulating an answer were physically painful for her. “Um, Rarity, if you would tell the princess of their, uh, whereabouts.”
“Oh, why of course, darling,” Rarity replied with a flick of her purple mane. “Princess Luna, Applejack and Fluttershy are… they are… that is, to say… um, Pinkie?”
“Oh, they’re singing a song about the virtues of invention,” Pinkie replied happily.
Twilight and Rarity took a moment to frown at their hyperactive friend, sure that whatever Applejack and Fluttershy were doing at the time, it wasn’t that.
“Really, Pinkie?” Rarity asked sceptically.
“Nope. Rainbow Dash?”
At this Rainbow Dash jumped, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was standing in Canterlot Castle. Up until that point she had been blindly following her friends from location to location and copying them movement for movement; thus, being called upon so unexpectedly meant that she had no idea of the current topic of conversation, and as a result could only reply,”What? What happened? Did I do something wrong? Or awesome?”
Rarity quickly filled Rainbow Dash in on their discussion.
“Rainbow Dash, Pinkie was just asking you to explain to the princess exactly where Applejack and Fluttershy are, and what it is that they may be doing.”
“How am I supposed to know? They didn’t tell me that they were gonna leave us right after the trip. Fluttershy’s probably just back at her cottage, and I’d bet ten bits that Applejack’s busy at Sweet Apple Acres, happily bucking away at her trees right now.”
“Right. Princess, we have absolutely no idea where they are,” Twilight said to Princess Luna.
“Oh; how strange. I am accustomed to observing all of you moving as a well-trained military unit: together,” Luna replied with the last statement she would issue to Twilight for the night. “Sister, I will go outside and take up watch over the night sky. You continue to pursue this interesting topic in my abscence.”
With that, Luna made her way onto the balcony and began to survey the night sky through the small telescope.
Celestia turned back to the friends, a gentle smile upon her face.
“Well, it was a most pleasant surprise, having you all stop by today. However, you should be getting home; it has gotten rather late, after all. And don’t worry about the changelings. We have defences in place to ensure that they can never infiltrate this kingdom in the same manner as before. Go and rest easy, my little ponies.”
With that, she disabled the binding spell applied to the door and opened it, indicating to the friends that it was time for them to leave. However, before all of them were out the door she called out, “Oh, but please do stay, Twilight. There is something that I must discuss with you privately.”
Twilight nervously looked to her three other friends for encouragement and stepped back through the doorway, making her way back to Celestia as the exit was barred yet again. She stopped when she was standing under the princess, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.
Celestia’s smile fell, her face taking on an expression that Twilight had only seen a handful of times before. It was not one of anger; if it were, Twilight would have been fearful, but at least sure of the outcome. This was a different expression entirely, borne out of a millennium of watching the deaths of the mortal ponies she was sworn to rule and protect as a benevolent leader; a thousand years of impossible choices and backbreaking moral burdens that would have swallowed a lesser pony alive, summed up in one look.
She stared down at Twilight imposingly and asked a simple question of her, yet the princess’s tone caused for it to sound as if it demanded a satisfactory answer, or else the outcome would be less than pleasant.
“Twilight,” Celestia said softly. “Where are your friends?”

Apple Bloom stared out of her window, impatiently waiting for Applejack to arrive at the gates to Sweet Apple Acres, walk up the stairs and wish her a good night. It was an unspoken agreement: there wasn’t a mother in the house, and with Granny Smith it was impossible to tell if she was acting crazy or genuinely off her rocker, so the role of acting as the family mother fell to Applejack.
Apple Bloom sighed as she adjusted her pose to allow blood access into her right foreleg again. With her head resting on her left hoof, she stared out at the city of Ponyville, awaiting Applejack’s return from Griffonstone.
Shortly after the Cutie Mark Crusaders had returned from an alternate past version of Gallopfrey in which The Doctor had never found his destiny and had decided to stay on the planet to watch the Time War rip the fabric of reality asunder, she had galloped full speed to the Castle of Friendship to tell her sister of her adventure, hoping that she would be proud of having a little sister who had helped to save an entire universe from an untimely demise.
Instead, she had found Applejack galloping at full speed back out, stopping to tell Apple Bloom that the Map had summoned all six Elements of Harmony to Griffonstone for a friendship emergency. She had assured her little sister of her return in a few days’ time, and had told her that she loved her before sprinting off.
Well, it had been a few days. Apple Bloom had been a good little filly in her sister’s absence, and was sure that she should have been back to congratulate her on her exemplary behaviour by now. After all, her friends had returned. Most of them, anyway. Apple Bloom knew that Fluttershy was missing, though she knew not the reason for her absence. How she knew was a secret that she had not yet discussed with her fellow Crusaders, or any individual besides herself.
It was strange; ever since receiving her cutie mark, Apple Bloom and her friends had been extraordinarily gifted at helping other ponies to discover their latent talents or reevaluate the ones that they already possessed. At first, this could be blamed on a combination of good fortune and destiny, but eventually Apple Bloom had noticed something odd about their missions: she was able to tell which ponies needed help before meeting them. The weirdest part for her was that the more they went on missions to help other ponies, the more acute her perception of cutie marks was becoming.
At first, she could only tell what her eyes and brain told her: pony without cutie mark. Help. Then, she had started to become aware of a pony’s possession or lack of a cutie mark without laying eyes on their flank. After that, she could tell which ponies had which cutie marks without seeing the two at once. Now, she could track ponies according to their cutie marks or lack thereof, matching their identities to their stamped flanks without ever seeing them at all. Of course, this ability had a radius of a few kilometres, but it was amazing to her that she had a virtual radar that operated at one-hundred percent accuracy at all times within her head, letting her know who had what kind of problem, leading her there and letting her solve it without the fuss of locating the pony first.
Of course, there was a good reason that she kept her ability a secret: she was an earth pony. Tracking was a unicorn thing. They were able to utilize spells to do that easier than any earth pony ever could, meaning that Sweetie Belle should have been the one in possession of this ability, not her. She felt like an affront to the natural order of things, and was not eager to draw attention to herself for possessing a skill that, by all indications, was impossible. Who knew what might happen: she might be taken away to be studied by teams of researchers and scientists as an oddity, she could be run out of town for being a freak, or she may suffer the same fate as… yeah, she wasn’t eager to tell someone she wasn’t absolutely sure could be trusted.
But, there were upsides to her natural radar; for example, she could tell that Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rarity and Rainbow Dash had entered the boundaries of Ponyville a few hours earlier, which was part of the reason that she was waiting for her sister to arrive. If they were here, she couldn’t be far behind.
After all, she had promised to be back.
Applejack never broke a promise.

Author's Notes:

Third chapter up. Applejack and Fluttershy are gone, who knows what that means for everyone else, and there are a whole lot of talking heads who seem as if they might as well be discussing the philosophical implications of tissue paper for all of the value that they add to this story at present. Let's see: I've killed comedy until it died in the second chapter, so I had to get rid of that tag. Now it seems like I may need to rid the story of the adventure tag altogether and add a new one to the site just so that it can be applied to this entry: boring. Or nonsensical. You know, whichever one fits best.

Just kidding. I'm actually really enjoying putting finger to screen and just typing out the insane thoughts scurrying about on the inside of my skull. I've had ideas like this screaming for the past five years to get out, so it feels good to just set up something like this and watch what it does. Sort of like dropping a snail onto someone's head from the second storey of a building and watching as they frantically run around; it's as if they're attempting to imitate someone who heard the shrill whirring noise of an air raid siren but can't find any cover.

Merge

View Online

Twilight was busily readying herself for a surprise picnic with Fluttershy that would hopefully span the length of the day.
It was the strangest thing. Princess Celestia had been so serious when talking with her about the trip the previous night, asking where her friends were, whether Twilight had used the new spell, whether she was sure that changelings had indeed attacked them at Griffonstone, and many other very important questions.
Then, out of nowhere, she had told Twilight to see Fluttershy in the morning for a picnic. Obviously, with them being on the same level she couldn’t order her to do it. But the suggestion had come with a certain level of command, letting Twilight know that she would do well to heed Celestia’s instruction.
And so, she found herself preparing for a relaxing picnic - that would probably develop into a miniature tea party - with her pink-maned pegasus friend.
She opened up her saddlebag and placed twenty bits into it, planning to briefly stop off at the market to purchase some fruit that would act as her contribution to the small feast that they were about to share. Perhaps she would purchase a few apples… no, actually that was a bad idea. She didn’t know whether anypony else had noticed it, but ever since the vampire fruit bat incident Fluttershy had been purchasing and consuming far more apples than was considered necessary or healthy for a single pegasus; if she was regressing then Twilight certainly did not want to fan the flames.
Twilight poked her head up from her small chest of bits, closed it, applied a locking spell to the lid and began trotting out of her bedroom into one of the many hallways of the castle.
She had noticed that ever since the morning of their trip, Starlight and Spike had been taking time out of their day to be with Time Turner. Twilight could not fathom why: Time Turner was the owner of a clock and watch repair shop, and was relied upon for all of Ponyville’s time-based needs. It certainly wasn’t an easy job, but it was largely uneventful and rather delicate. Not that she would consider another pony’s special talent boring, mind you. She just didn’t see the point in spending so much time with him if all that he did was fix clocks; not exactly something to write home about. Of course, they had tried to justify their time spent with him by spinning some ridiculous yarn about him being a time-travelling centuries-old alien who just happened to resemble an Equestrian, but she dismissed those claims outright. If Twilight knew any two things with absolute certainty, they were this: aliens did not exist, and time travel spells were far more complex than any earth pony could ever fathom.
Especially a small-town watch repairpony.
She navigated her way through the myriad hallways in the castle, spotting the front exit within minutes of leaving her room. It was time for a picnic with Fluttershy; she needed to leave her ridiculous ramblings and thoughts behind her at the castle, as her friend deserved her full attention.
She took a deep breath in anticipation of the day ahead, straightened her back, and stepped out of the castle into daylight.

Apple Bloom fell to her bedroom floor with a crash, her hind legs having finally given out after a night of sleeping at her window. She jumped up and got into what she thought was an attacking pose, ready to show anypony attempting to mess with her just how strong an Apple truly was.
Spotting no assailants, she examined her room for any sign of disturbance, as far as she would be able to tell. The only thing off about her situation was how she had woken up a few metres from her bed. Why would she have been sleeping somewhere else?
She then remembered staying up until well past her bedtime waiting for Applejack to return, eventually having fallen asleep at the window due to sheer exhaustion; she did not do well with staying up late.
She exited her bedroom and walked down the small passage, passing Applejack’s room on her way to the stairs. She didn’t bother to check within for her sister: she couldn’t feel her anywhere within the range of her perception, so she knew that she was nowhere near Sweet Apple Acres or within the confines of Ponyville. She had probably returned soon after Apple Bloom had fallen asleep and then left early in the morning, long before her smaller sister had awoken.
She trotted her way down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was getting hungry for a hearty breakfast; too bad her sister wasn’t home at the moment, or she would have been able to help her make it. Heck, her brother or gran could’ve helped her, had they not been at the market for some new building supplies. Turning towards the kitchen, she prepared to open the fridge in order to search for any apple fritters that may have been left over from the previous night.
Before she entered the kitchen, however, she noticed ants swarming most of the surfaces in the room. She didn’t know why they were there; someone had probably spilled some apple jam or dropped crumbs from a sugary treat that they were having and hadn’t cleaned up after themselves. Sighing, she wondered how she was to make her way across the kitchen without stepping on large numbers of the tiny insects.
As she took the first step, she was concentrating on getting her right hoof to land in the spot with the smallest number of ants that she could find; sure, she would have to step on some, but she would rather keep the floors mostly clean, which did not mean painted with the entrails of scores of misguided insects.
Just before her hoof landed, Apple Bloom was witness to a peculiar event: all of the ants directly under the spot for which she was aiming separated just before her hoof made contact with the floorboards. She looked at her foreleg in surprise, as she had not been expecting the ants to be intelligent enough to dodge her rapidly approaching limb. She stayed in place for a few seconds, before deciding to test whether it was just a coincidence. She lifted up her left foreleg and placed it down onto the floorboards, and once again the ants left an empty space large enough for her hoof to descend upon the floor safely. She repeated the process with her right hind leg, then her left hind leg, then her right foreleg…
She slowly made her way to the refrigerator, intent on getting herself a small snack to eat while watching the small arthropods scurry around the kitchen. She located some leftover apple fritters after searching near the back of the top shelf, reheated them, and made her way over to a seat in the family’s modest dining room to eat and observe.
She dug in, and was soon enjoying her breakfast quite heartily; Granny Smith could really cook when she deemed it necessary. All the while her head was turned in the direction of the kitchen, intent on understanding the reason for the ants’ seemingly intelligent behaviour. In between bites, she scrutinized the way that they walked, the patterns that they were making across the floor. She could definitely see a pattern, but she couldn’t quite understand what made it stand it out to her. There were regularly occurring lines, circles and valleys throughout their formations that quite obviously made up something, but the question was what.
As she watched, her mind began to piece together what the different shapes were: components of symbols. After a fair bit more observation, she was able to see that the ants were marching in lines that formed fragments of letters. Apple Bloom tilted her head to the side in curiosity as she began to read the message. It didn’t seem to be a particularly long message, or one that had a deeper meaning of any kind. It was just two monosyllabic words, repeated over and over again all over the surface of the kitchen floor.
“Help us.”
Apple Bloom wondered for a brief moment why the ants were asking for help, yet before the question could form on her tongue a violent pain overtook her whole body. It felt as if a feral beast were clawing out her insides and consuming them while she sat, paralyzed, unable to act against the assault on her young frame. Tears welled up in her eyes as she wished that she could double over, at least protecting her stomach from further brutalizing on a psychological level.
Then, the pain shifted to something else entirely: the feeling of thousands of hooves all over her body, reshaping her, reforming her, restructuring her at her deepest level, remaking her as something else, something other than what she was. She felt as if she were a clay lump on a potter’s wheel being worked on by a multitude of strange ponies: unrelenting change and unceasing transformation from a natural, rudimentary form to something artificial and alien, the shape of something forced into an altogether different state of being.
Finally, she felt one last uncomfortable sensation; something was off. She couldn’t place it, was unable to understand why she felt as though the world were teetering precariously on its axis while she was the one caught up in the confusion. She felt strange, sort of like the feeling that one gets when they realize that they are breathing and have to concentrate on getting oxygen into their body while their brain works to forget the subtleties of biology. Her body was working fine, yet she felt as if she were only a pilot in someone else’s skin, controlling a puppet’s actions while watching the world through their eyes. While she wiggled her limbs in her confused state, she fell off of her chair onto the dining room floor.
As suddenly as the strange feelings had come, they left.
Apple Bloom groggily picked herself up from the ground, unsure of what had just happened. She looked to the kitchen, searching for the ants that probably had something to do with the unpleasant sensations she had just experienced.
The kitchen was empty.
“Dumb ants,” she mumbled. She set herself back on the small chair, hoping to get back to her fritters while they still retained some semblance of heat. She extended her right forehoof, intent on grabbing the fritter closest to her, before realizing that her leg looked a bit wrong.
Specifically: it was completely black, the fur hanging off in clumps to reveal skin that seemed to be festering where it covered her, revealing gleaming bone and damaged muscle tissue where it did not. Apple Bloom retracted her hoof and sat silently for a few seconds, simply staring ahead as her mind tried to make sense of the predicament in which she seemed to find herself.
After a long pause she extended her leg across the table yet again, watching as it neared one of the fritters on her plate. It was yellow, the fur smooth and silky, her skin not visible due to its perfect coverage.
She blinked.
Her leg was black and decomposing, once again looking as if she had earned a rank among the living dead.
She blinked.
Her leg was yellow, looking healthy, whole and alive.
Blink.
Her leg was black and dead, long since having met its end.
Blink.
Her leg was yellow.
Blink.
Her leg was black.
Blink.
Yellow.
Blink.
Black.
Yellow.
Black.
Yellow.
Black.
She calmly pushed her chair away from the table and made her way upstairs, casually passing her sister’s room and entering her own. She approached her wooden wardrobe and opened the doors, looking for an item that would prove most useful to her at the moment. Ah-ha, there it was.
She lifted the mirror to her face, staring serenely at the filly looking back at her. Her mane was tattered and worn, the rich crimson having long since faded to become a dull brick. Her skin and fur over her face appeared exactly as her hoof had at the table: dead, seemingly unable to move and yet defying natural law by behaving exactly as living tissue would. Curiously, Apple Bloom realized that she had yet to take a breath since leaving the dining room. She stared deeper into the mirror and observed her eyes.
They were glowing. It was as if she were a jack-o-lantern and her eyes were the holes through which light emerged, though they were the wrong colour; instead of appearing as an unsettling orange or yellow they were a deep, menacing red. The light also looked incredibly unnatural: it did not seem to emerge from a source; rather, it seemed that it was its own source. Her eyes appeared to be made from the stuff, dense matter composed entirely of that which is immaterial.
Apple Bloom’s calm state evaporated in the moment that she had begun to observe her eyes fully. She threw her mirror at the back wall of her room, not caring whether or not it had shattered violently. She ran to her bed and jumped onto it, throwing the blanket above her head and burying herself deep within the resulting covering.
“I can’t be one o’ them. I can’t; I got my cutie mark already,” she whispered to herself as she began to sob quietly.
She recognized this body. Once when she had accompanied Twilight through the Everfree, she had had a run-in with creatures resembling her current state. They lived in the inappropriately named Sunny Town, a small city of horrors borne from a single sin committed centuries prior to her arrival in the area. They masqueraded as normal ponies during the day, and became unfathomably evil abominations at night. They had attempted to add her to their numbers, but she had escaped before she could be killed and reborn as one of the undead. So why this? Why now?
Apple Bloom’s small body shook violently with each sob, her newly-rotten lungs unaccustomed to accepting oxygen in large volumes. She repeated a single sentence over and over again through her black tears and between her ragged breaths, hoping against hope that it would keep the monsters at bay.
“Please don’t come for me. Please don’t come for me. Please don’t come for me. Please don’t come…”

The Window

View Online

“Apple Bloom! We’re home! Have ya been a good little filly while we were gone?”
Uh oh. Apple Bloom would’ve recognized that voice anywhere: her Granny Smith was home, and by the sound of things Big Mac had returned with her. This was a real problem: Apple Bloom was still an undead abomination with a make up that flew in the face of all established law and logic where science and magic were concerned. Were her granny to see her in this state, she would probably try to butcher her or have Big Mac rip her apart with the utmost prejudice. She was completely unrecognizable as… well, whatever this was.
Apple Bloom lifted her head from the sheet covering her small mattress, attempting to listen out for the sound of approaching hoofsteps through her blanket. At least she was covered with something, as insubstantial as that comfort was. She wiped what was left of her blackened tears from her cheeks and the spots under her eyes. She had mourned for two and a half hours after making the horrid discovery, but by now had calmed down considerably, content to hold her breath until she died from oxygen starvation. She had been doing so for the past hour, and had yet to feel even slightly dizzy; she decided that being undead was not without its perks, but at the moment those perks were clearly working against her wishes.
The sound of hooves on floorboards echoed throughout the house, before they seemed to begin steadily gaining elevation. She knew that this indicated that her gran and brother were making their way to her room by way of the stairs, meaning that they would arrive at her door in ten seconds at the most.
She began to become extremely apprehensive, wondering how she could hide her monstrous appearance from them without arousing suspicion. She was already covered by her blanket, but they would insist that she remove it so that they could greet her face to face. Of course, there was always the option of jumping out her window; the problem was the next course of action. Make her way to Ponyville? Only if she wanted to be reported to Celestia herself as a new type of dangerous creature never before seen by modern ponies. Escape into the Everfree? Sure, why not make it even easier for those logic-starved denizens of Sunny Town to locate and capture her. Of course she’d love to spend the rest of eternity with those murderers. Hide in the apple orchards for the rest of her life? Not a chance. She may be undead, but she was sure that the boredom would kill her twice over. Find the other members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to formulate a plan of evasion and survival with their help? Now that sounded like a great idea.
Her decision made, Apple Bloom threw the blanket off of her bed towards the door, aware that her family had reached her room. She quickly undid the latch on her window and looked down.
Unlike last time, there were no conveniently placed hay bales to cushion her fall, just a straight descent from her current position down to the soil and a small plough underneath her window, a dangerous distance for a small filly such as herself to cross under the influence of gravity.
The door knob was turning.
Out of ideas and time, she jumped. The air was rushing past her face with increasing speed, the ground approaching frighteningly quickly. She barely had time to think of how stupid this idea was before slamming into the soil directly below her window.
She rolled a good few metres before coming to a standstill near the barn. Her eyes opened slowly, in complete disbelief at the fact that she had survived. She attempted to survey her surroundings, a bit disoriented after her solid meeting with the ground. Her head rolled first to the left, then the right, before coming to a stop staring at the sky. She was fortunate that she hadn’t sustained any injuries from that fall; actually, it was a miracle that she was still in one piece.
Apple Bloom lifted her right forehoof, getting ready to stand up and gallop off into the distance, hopefully before Granny Smith and Big Mac spotted her lying outside of the house. Her forehoof made contact with a hay bale.
How peculiar. She was sure that there were no hay bales near her part of the barn. She rotated her head to take a look around and managed to spot a small black object moving around to the side of the house, a great distance away from her position. It was moving in tandem with her thoughts, attempting to wiggle into a position that would allow for it to stand upright.
She looked back to the spot directly underneath her window, spotting a bit of movement there as well. It was the rest of her body: her remaining three legs, tail and barrel. She looked at the small plough, realizing that she must have severed her foreleg from her core during her descent.
Slowly, she began to wonder why she couldn’t see her head attached to her body. Then, a thought occurred to her. It went something like this:
That’s a dumb idea. Ya need yer eyes ta see, Bloom. Yer eyes’re in yer head, so if ya manage ta see yer head away from yer eyes then ya got a problem
I know that. I was just wonderin’ how I can see anything at all, given the fact that a head don’t work detached from a body.
True. Actually, that’s a bit of a dilemma. How are you seein’ from a head that’s been decapitated?
I dunno. I was hopin’ that you’d know, maybe give me some kinda answer.
Sorry, but if you don’t got any ideas then neither do I.
How come?
‘Cause I’m you.
“What?!” Apple Bloom exclaimed in surprise, the absurdity of the entire situation finally getting to her. She was a head lying on the ground debating with herself over ideas that were blatantly obvious, only to be told by herself that she is, in fact, herself. It was a bit strange that she had even forgotten that fact in the first place.
Unfortunately, her realization had been accompanied by a rather loud exclamation. So loud, in fact, that her gran and brother were able to hear it from her bedroom window.
“What in tarnation was that?” asked Granny Smith, approaching the window cautiously. Big Mac just shrugged.
“What’s that lyin’ on the floor over there?” asked Granny Smith, leaning out of the window to look at Apple Bloom’s detached head lying near the family barn. Big Mac just shrugged.
“Why’s there a small black filly’s body lyin’ down underneath Apple Bloom’s window?” asked Granny Smith, staring in horror at the small corpse idly resting on the ground directly beneath her. Big Mac just shrugged.
Granny Smith lifted her head to peer at Big Mac in irritation.
“Y’know, Big Mac; had I wanted such interestin’ company, I’d’ve brought a scarecrow upstairs with me, or maybe a used meat grinder. I dunno where ta find one of ‘em, but it’d be more engagin’ than you right now.”
Big Mac just shrugged.
Granny Smith narrowed her eyes, stared at the large red stallion for a few seconds, and began making her way down the passage, fully intending to go outside in order to see just what a rotten corpse was doing on her proud family farm.
Apple Bloom was beginning to panic. If they started to inspect her body parts then they were sure to realize that her limbs were still moving, attempting to escape whatever fate awaited them at the hooves of her well-meaning relatives.
She began directing her three attached limbs to rise, and piloted them over to her remaining foreleg. It was difficult to estimate movement from her position, but she attempted to reattach her leg while watching from a distance, mainly using her sense of touch and her body’s spatial awareness in order to correctly orient her leg with the opening and jam it into the waiting joint. She could feel the decayed flesh grow and twist to accommodate the new limb, sealing over the cuts and slices until one would be unable to tell that her foreleg had ever been sliced off.
She then began to rotate her entire body until it was directly facing her head, and took off at a full gallop. It was a bit of a surreal experience: she felt every sensation as if she were there, but she knew full well that her head was lying directly outside of the family barn, watching as the rest of her body approached in order to attempt to do something before she was caught by her brother and grandmother.
Her body reached her head, stopped before it kicked her off into a distant field or orchard near the back of the farm, reached down with a forehoof, picked her up and placed her neck upon the gaping hole above her shoulders, reattaching her head to the rest of her body. She sighed in contentment as she swivelled her neck from side to side, happy to actually be in one piece.
“What - what - how - who - Big Mac: do somethin’!”
Her granny’s shrill cry brought Apple Bloom out of her reverie, just in time to see Big Mac barreling down the stretch of farm to her position, obviously fully intent on teaching this small monster a thing or two about reattaching body parts on Apple property.
She turned tail and bolted, all the while crying out for her big brother to recognise her.
“Big Mac, it’s me: Apple Bloom!”
Big Mac remained silent, narrowing his eyes as he rapidly closed the space between them. Her voice must have sounded wrong; he always recognized her shouts of terror.
She needed an escape, some way to evade the brother who was attempting to rend her limb from limb. She looked out to the orchard, then started running for the closest tree that she could spot. As she reached it, she launched herself upwards to meet the bark of the tree’s sturdy trunk, then frantically shimmied her way up towards the branches of the plant. She alighted upon one of its many limbs, then looked down to see her brother’s cold eyes staring back up at her, silently wishing death upon the intruder who had attempted to soil his sister’s good name by claiming to be her.
Apple Bloom watched in horror as her brother faced his back to the tree, then charged up a mighty kick that would no doubt tear the wooden obstacle from its roots so that he could brutalize the undead abomination resting on its branches. This was a stallion who could casually tow houses when he was in the mood; she rightly suspected that neither she nor the tree stood a chance against her big brother in a contest of strength. However, perhaps she could use her wits to escape the onslaught of force coming her way.
She looked out to the trees near hers, hoping that there was something she could see, use or do that would delay the seemingly inevitable conclusion to her situation. Seeing nothing, she turned her attention to the ground underneath her large hideout. Suddenly, she spotted a means of escape: there, no more than twenty metres from her current perch, was a hole opening into the ground. It was large enough for her to fit into, but it would take a lot of digging in order for her brother to have any hope of maintaining pursuit. Thankfully, she knew that her brother, while physically strong to the point of overkill, had no idea as to how one would go about digging anything other than a vertical hole in which to place a new sapling.
She looked back to her brother; he was almost ready to unleash his almighty kick, his back legs tucked firmly into his flank. The entire time, his head was twisted backwards to stare at her, a murderous glint in his eyes.
Now or never.
As he unleashed his legs at full force against the trunk of the apple tree, Apple Bloom jumped.
The effect of the impact was monstrous. The area directly under Big Mac’s back hooves seemed to stay upright for an instant, miraculously holding against the incredible energy unleashed in its direction. However, it was nothing more than the illusion of strength. Directly afterwards, the trunk exploded outwards in a shower of splinters and chunks of bark as the crown of the plant was launched into the sky at blistering speeds, destined to land somewhere on the cliff face near the city of Canterlot. All of the leaves formerly attached to the tree’s branches shot off like confetti, landing around the large red stallion in clumps or individually. Through it all, a resounding crack could be heard as far away as Ponyville, the result of the sheer speed of Big Mac’s legs as they made impact with the tree’s surface. He admired his work with pride.
Only to be disappointed when he looked off to the side and spotted a small, dull red tail disappear into a hole a short distance from his position.
He dipped his head, closed his eyes and sighed in disappointment. His quarry had escaped, gone off to who-knows-where. He slowly turned and shuffled off in the direction of the farmhouse, not eager to confront Granny Smith after having failed to apprehend the little monster. She would have some choice words to say to him, and he couldn’t really blame her.
That was rather pathetic.

Apple Bloom followed the network of tunnels through to Ponyville. She continued to track Sweetie Belle’s cutie mark the whole way, hoping that she would be able to pop up somewhere in her area without arousing suspicion. In her current form, that was a task that bordered on the impossible; emerging anywhere even remotely near the town would likely cause for a few heads to turn, but anywhere else and she would be unable to reach either one of her friends. Scootaloo, though a pegasus, lived in Ponyville as well; a fact that was a result of her present inability to fly. Some ponies believed that Scootaloo was permanently disabled due to a genetic defect resulting in underdeveloped wings, but her fellow Crusaders were sure that she just needed to give them time to grow. Not everyone can be experts at stuff immediately, no matter what anypony had to say on the matter.
Apple Bloom turned her attention to the task at hoof. Sweetie Belle was in her upstairs room in Rarity’s famous Carousel Boutique. Okay, no problem. This was just a small hurdle that she needed to overcome. Oh, and there were at least twenty other ponies within the structure at the moment. Once again, not a problem. She just needed a disguise that would hide the fact that she was technically dead; those were a dime a dozen. Just find a trenchcoat, slap on some shades and hey presto! You got yourself a master disguise. It had worked every other time, so why wouldn’t it work now?
She positioned herself directly underneath one of the boutique's storage rooms, intending to surface for an outfit that would work as a functional disguise without letting Rarity know that she was ste- borrowing it until she had an opportunity to return it at some future date.
She quietly lifted one of the floor panels and slid out onto the ground, letting the tile down gently so as not to create a noise that would no doubt attract the attention of the fashionista or a concerned patron. She carefully trotted over to a display sporting ready-made clothing for fillies her age.
Strange; one of the jackets on display had her name on the tag. Had Applejack been saving this as a surprise for her little sister? Or perhaps it was Big Mac. Of course, Apple Bloom wouldn’t put it past Granny Smith to do something nice for her every once in a while. Sure, the old pony was more ancient than the town itself and probably dangerously senile, but she had a heart bigger than most sane ponies, and could probably outperform many of them physically as well.
Apple Bloom slipped into the small nondescript jacket. Now all that she needed was something to obscure her face. After some searching, she was able to find a pair of sunglasses that fit the bill, and more importantly, her face, perfectly. Disguise assembled, she opened the door slightly and peeked out at the shop floor.
Nopony was looking in her direction. Most of the shoppers were looking at the assorted displays, interested in purchasing something that was a blend of Rarity’s fashion sense and their own design ideas. Confident that she would not be found, Apple Bloom stepped out of the store room and shut the door quietly.
“Oh, hello dear. Who might you be?”
Consarnit. Not even one step outta that room and already Rarity had spotted her. She decided to play it cool and pretend to be some other pony who was probably new to the town.
“Well howdy… I mean, uh, good day there, miss. My name’s, um, Sparkle… Guild...er Fitzherbert Junior… The Second.”
Nailed it.
“Oh, how adorable, Apple Bloom. You are the most precocious little thing.”
Never mind.
“Howdy, Rarity. I’m lookin’ fer Sweetie Belle. Ya seen her?”
“Why yes. As a matter of fact she’s…” Rarity paused to allow herself a moment to take in exactly what it was that she was seeing.
“Apple Bloom, what is the matter with your, well, everything, darling?” asked Rarity. She seemed to be very concerned with Apple Bloom’s appearance now that she had crossed the shop floor and managed to get a good look at her. To Rarity, Apple Bloom’s look was unnatural; she didn’t know of a foal who could so thoroughly dirty themselves as to obtain a blackened colouring. She also noticed that some patches of her fur were missing entirely, showing areas of skin that seemed to be diseased, though her flesh appeared to have become so unhealthy that it was practically lifeless.
Before Apple Bloom could react, Rarity removed her sunglasses to get a good look at her face.
“Sweet Celestia!” she exclaimed, recoiling in horror at the sight of Apple Bloom’s evil-looking red eyes. By now, the attention of every patron in the shop was on the two ponies, and their reactions were very similar to Rarity’s own. True, they had seen their fair share of horrors, but most of those were not actively malicious; misguided, yes; hurtful, certainly, but not evil. Now, faced with something that exuded sheer wrongness in quintessence, they could not help but be terrified at the sight of the turned filly.
Apple Bloom needed to think, and fast: soon, the shop would become a stampeding ground for panicked ponies mindlessly galloping about screaming their heads off, instead of calmly approaching the exits to leave.
She shouted the first thing that came to mind.
“Hang on everpony: this is just my Nightmare Night outfit!”
She hoped that they would buy it; it had seemed rather convincing to her.
Rarity seemed to visibly calm down, though her face was now overtaken with confusion.
“Apple Bloom, isn’t Nightmare Night at least another five days away?”
Dagnabbit, more quick thinking.
“Yeah, but I wanted fer this outfit to be well worn by the time I wear it fer real. Ya know, ta make me look more undead and such like.”
Rarity slowly nodded, another question obviously making its way to the surface. Before she could ask any more, Apple Bloom decided to interrupt her.
“Rarity, I’m kinda in a hurry. Me and the Crusaders’re workin’ on a great plan ta get more candy come Nightmare Night, so I need ta talk ta Sweetie Belle right now.”
Rarity seemed to be taken aback at the bluntness of the filly’s request, but quickly recomposed herself and gave her a polite smile.
“Of course, darling. She’s in her bedroom, just upstairs.”
“Thank ya kindly,” Apple Bloom replied courteously.
Sweet freedom.

Apple Bloom rapped her hoof impatiently on Sweetie Belle’s door, wishing that she would hurry up instead of taking her time. She’d already had to stand outside the room for at least a minute, impatiently waiting until her fellow Crusader was good and ready to receive her.
Sweetie Belle’s door began to open slowly, painfully slowly, so slowly that Apple Bloom felt as if her friend were intentionally teasing her with the pathetic pace of her room’s reveal. Finally, as soon as the door had opened enough to allow her a line of sight into her friend’s private chambers, she spotted the marshmallow coloured filly herself standing in the doorway.
Upon obtaining her first look at Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle began to appear slightly afraid. Of course, Apple Bloom had left the stylish shades downstairs in her haste to escape Rarity and reach her friend.
“Um… can I help you?” the pale white Crusader asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
“Sweetie Belle, it’s me: Apple Bloom.”
At this, the small filly relaxed her posture and adopted a curious smile.
“Apple Bloom? What’re you doing looking like that? You know that Nightmare Night is still a few days away, right?”
“Oh, ha ha,” Apple Bloom replied drily. “Real funny, Sweetie Belle. That’s exactly what yer sister said ta me on the shop floor, so the joke’s old. If ya let me in, I’ll explain why I look like a Nightmare Moon wannabe as best I can.”
Without hesitation, Sweetie Belle stepped back from her door to allow her friend access. Apple Bloom let out a sigh of relief, entered the room and gently shut the door behind herself.
She shed her coat and turned around to face her fellow Crusader, finding her staring back quizzically, as if she had many questions to ask yet was unable to grasp the words that would allow for them to find expression. Thus, all that she could do to indicate her confusion at the slightly peculiar situation was stare. Apple Bloom decided to get straight to the heart of the matter.
“Okay. First off, the reason that I look like I’m wearin’ a cheap zombie costume is ‘cause I am a zombie. Or at least as close to one as I can be without knowin’ whether I really am. I’m cursed in some weird way that makes me become like this at night, but fer some reason the curse is a little broken and now it’s happenin’ durin’ the day. I dunno what ta do, and I need yer help: yours and Scootaloo’s.”
Throughout her short explanation, Sweetie Belle’s expression of confusion only seemed to deepen. It also seemed to be increasingly accompanied by a hint of scepticism that Apple Bloom knew she would need to overcome if she were to obtain her friends’ help in remedying whatever it was that had gone wrong with her.
But how? How to convince her friend?
She could try self-mutilation, but that would likely just scare her away. Perhaps holding her breath? No. Sweetie Belle would think that she was cheating by keeping her breathing very shallow. Cutting herself and showing that she wouldn’t bleed? Again, no. Sweetie Belle was a bit squeamish when it came to blood, so she would likely refuse to look at all.
What to do?
If only she could reveal her pony half to Sweetie Belle, get her to see that she was only partly an abomination. That would surely convince her of the truth of her claims; then they could set about trying to fix the problem and undo what was done to her, whatever it was.
The problem was that she had already tried that out: some of her earlier moping had been spent willing herself back to normal, all to no avail. She couldn’t understand why she had been able to switch between forms so freely at the dinner table, as it seemed that she was unable to do so after seeing herself in the mirror. Perhaps it had a time limit within which she was able to change back, and she was just unfortunate enough to have stayed in one form for too long. Regardless, she couldn’t do anything about it, and would have to be content to wait until she could show Sweetie Belle that she was being serious.
Sweetie Belle gasped.
Apple Bloom looked over at her friend, curious as to what had amazed her so, only to see her staring directly at the undead filly in wonder, and a little fear. Apple Bloom looked down at her own body in confusion… her yellow, healthy, living, decidedly normal-looking body.
She stared down dumbstruck, in shock over the sudden reversion to her natural filly form. Her body was back to normal, looking as if she had never been one of those monsters in the first place.
A thought occurred to her: there was only one way to make sure that this was a true transformation.
She twisted her head around and angled her body to see the spot where her cutie mark should have been. She silently prayed that it was really there, and that this wasn’t just a temporary respite until night fell, at which point she would be back to her dark and twisted form, out for the blood of those whose passions and talents had been realized and physically symbolized by a mark of certainty that adorned their bodies.
Her neck stopped rotating, her eyes set on the spot that would reveal her fate.
It was there. Her cutie mark was there. The curse was gone. No, it was more than that: it was as if the curse had never existed at all. Her mark hadn’t reappeared in a flash of light, anymore than her backwards transformation had been accompanied by much pomp and fanfare, a heralding of goodness and harmony back into her small body. It just happened, it was just there, had always been there. It was as if it had merely been obscured by some dust or dirt for a time, and was now finally visible once again.
But how was that possible? She’d spent over an hour in her bed wishing for normalcy, hoping with all her heart - with everything that she was - that she would change back, yet she had stayed a miniature monster. How was it, then, that calmly pondering methods of plainly revealing the truth of her predicament to her friend had cured her? And so suddenly, too. It made no sense whatsoever.
She looked over at Sweetie Belle. Her jaw was practically on the floor, her eyes wide enough to be mistaken for grapefruits, had it not been for the difference in colours. She was attempting to find some words that could accurately describe what she had just seen, or call it into question. Unfortunately, she was failing dismally, as all that she had succeeded in doing was stand frozen in place with her mouth agape while a series of small whines and squeaks escaped her throat.
Apple Bloom decided to reintroduce the concept of speech into the room.
“So, uh… that was somethin’.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head slightly, her eyes still as wide as they had been since she had first witnessed the reversion. She seemed to be trying to understand exactly how it was that Apple Bloom was able to speak given the extraordinary circumstances. Then, as if she had just remembered how to form words into coherent sentences, all of her unexpressed questions emerged in a hurricane of panicked exclamations.
“How… how… how did you end up becoming a zombie?! That’s completely impossible! Twilight says that zombies don’t exist, at all. She’s always right about this kind of thing; how was she so wrong now? What happened? I need to know what happened!”
“The first time or the second time?” Apple Bloom asked, a laugh dancing just out of her reach at the back of her throat. This conversation was shaping up to be good fun for her.
“Second time?!”

After a few minutes of explanation that almost expanded into an hour’s worth of backtracking for the sake of the horribly confused unicorn filly, Apple Bloom was confident that she had sufficiently elaborated on the events that had transpired that day in Sunny Town, and the transformation that had occurred at the dinner table that morning. Sweetie Belle, however, was still trying to come up with “rational” explanations for what she had just witnessed.
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just a disguise spell that you applied by mistake?”
Apple Bloom’s face deadpanned.
“Sweetie, I’m an earth pony. We ain’t exactly well known fer our magical abilities.”
It was still hard for Apple Bloom to believe that she had reverted, just like that; doubly so given the fact that the curse was supposed to be permanent. For Sweetie, the whole thing was as incomprehensible as an M.C. Escher work shown in three dimensions. She wasn’t just having trouble wrapping her head around Apple Bloom’s story: she was finding it impossible to understand that everything every adult had ever told her about the way the world works could so easily be called into question, her comfy reality shattered by nothing more than a string of words about one pony’s experience with the forbidden aspects of their world.
“Okay, hang on. I get the part about your trip to Sunny Town, but I still don’t get how you got so messed up without even being there.”
Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her head with her right forehoof.
“I don’t rightly know the answer ta that one myself. All I know is that there were ants in the kitchen, spellin’ out “Help us” everywhere they could scurry. I only started feelin’ funny after knowin’ what it was they were tryin’ ta tell me. Then they were gone, and I became that… thing.”
Apple Bloom shuddered slightly when remembering what she had been for the better part of that day. The worst part for her was that she had felt completely normal in that state; there was no inherent feeling of evil or wrongness with her situation, just the same feelings she always got - minus all biological needs, of course. She had felt happy, sad, angry, indifferent, her ordinary range of emotions.
What she had not felt was pain, nor hunger; there was no need for water or air, and she had not found it necessary to even be in one piece to stay not dead, yet not alive. It was a surreal experience, one that she did not wish to repeat.
As she was deep in thought, a blinding flash of lightning illuminated their surroundings to a dangerously bright white, followed by a great crash of thunder which shook the small bedroom.
Sweetie Belle looked up at her window, startled and confused.
“I didn’t hear anything about a scheduled rain storm today. Did you?” she asked the equally perplexed Apple Bloom as large raindrops began to crash into her window pane.
“No. Nothin’. My family likes ta keep on top o’ the weather fer the sake o’ our apples ‘n crops, so I dunno why I didn’t hear anything ‘bout this.”
She turned to Sweetie Belle, a look of suspicion on her face.
“Actually, now that I think about it, the sky was completely clear when I was runnin’ from Big Mac in the apple orchard. I know Rainbow’s fast, but that’s only when she’s buckin’ clouds away, not when she’s tryin’ ta get them into the sky, and even the weather team ain’t that efficient as a whole. What’s goin’ on?”
Sweetie Belle shrugged, flinched as a second clap of thunder resonated throughout the room, then motioned towards her door.
“Why don’t we go and ask Rarity?”
With that, the two fillies made their way downstairs to ask the white mare some questions regarding the weather schedule, sure that they must have missed something somewhere. However, upon reaching the ground floor they noticed something that concerned them greatly.
They turned their heads in tandem to face one of the boutique’s large display windows, sure that something was amiss. Or, more accurately, missing.
Beyond the single pane of glass separating them from the outside world, they did not see what was expected at such a time. Instead of darkened skies filled with the flashing images of warring white masses as their electric sceptres clashed with resounding explosions across the horizon, the two friends were able to see the sun shining brightly over the town of Ponyville, not a cloud in the sky.
Confused, they trotted back upstairs to Sweetie Belle’s bedroom. The lightning nearly blinded them when they stepped through the entrance, the thunder causing for their eardrums to ache with its volume. Through it all, the rain seemed to be assaulting the boutique, attempting to drill a hole straight through the roof. The downpour was so ferocious that the room vibrated in rhythm with the pounding sheets of water slamming against it. Contrasting with the warm colours of the boutique downstairs, Sweetie Belle’s room looked as if someone had intentionally sucked most of its rich hues out, leaving so little that it appeared as a dull monochrome, yet just enough to create the suggestion of colour, the impression of vibrancy.
“I’ll go check the window in Rarity’s Inspiration Room!” Apple Bloom screamed over the cacophony of noises generated by the destructive weather phenomenon. Sweetie Belle turned towards her to indicate that she had indeed heard her shouts, even with her forehooves clamped over her ears.
Apple Bloom stumbled towards the open door, amazed by the sheer amount of noise within the small room. As she stepped outside, every pounding slam and almighty crack that came from the unnatural storm immediately stopped. Shocked by the change, she immediately turned around to look back the way she had come. She could only see Sweetie Belle folded over inside with her hooves still firmly held over her ears, vibrating to some stimulus that was now completely undetectable to the farm-raised filly.
Apple Bloom quickly cantered over to Rarity’ Inspiration Room, intent on taking a quick peek out the window in order to ascertain the conditions outside at that moment and then make her way back to the other room to see what lay beyond the boutique’s walls.
She trotted over to the window, got up onto her hind legs and peered outside. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was on the second storey of the boutique, looking up into a serene sky tinged orange by the warming rays of the setting sun, the whole scene peacefully played out above the rooftops of every cozy building in Ponyville.
She dropped back onto all fours and made her way back to Sweetie Belle, hoping that she could get a quick peek out of her window before they left the room to get out of the area affected by the anomaly.
Upon entering the room, she was almost knocked to the ground by the sudden influx of sound and flashing light that seemed to plague the area. She saw Sweetie Belle lying on the ground, hooves over her head in an attempt to drown out some of the noise brutally assaulting her senses. Apple Bloom carefully stepped around her and shakily trotted over to the window. Reaching it, she drew herself up to stand on her hind legs, planted her forehooves on the windowsill and peered outside.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Normally, Sweetie Belle’s window showed a view out over the roofs of most of the buildings in Ponyville, with a line of sight that allowed for one looking out of it to see the town hall. Now, however, the perspective from the small opening had changed.
From the window Apple Bloom could see that she was at ground level, in line with the doors of most of the buildings in Ponyville; this despite the fact that she was on the second floor of the boutique. She also noticed that instead of facing the town hall, her line of sight went in the other direction, a fact that confused the small filly greatly. If the window was in one place facing in one direction, how was it possible that her view from it extended in the other? Her curiosity was becoming insatiable, a desire for knowledge that became stronger the longer she continued to stare out the window.
She needed to find out.
She dropped to all fours, turned around, stumbled back to Sweetie Belle and nudged her in the side with her right forehoof. The little filly looked up slowly, the strain of attempting to block out the overwhelming sensations evident on her face.
“I wanna see what’s outside the window; I’ll be back in a few minutes!” Apple Bloom shouted, straining to be heard above the fierce storm. Sweetie Belle slowly shook her head, obviously not wanting for her friend to venture forth alone.
“Don’t go!”
“I have to!”
“Please.”
“I’ll be quick!” Apple Bloom replied, attempting to reassure her friend.
Sweetie’s eyes pleaded with her to stay, obviously fearing for both her friend’s safety as well as her own. Apple Bloom’s resolve wavered for an instant, before she lowered herself to her friend’s level, softened her voice and began to reassure her.
“Listen, Sweetie Belle; I’m not goin’ anywhere. You can even watch me from inside. I’m only gonna be on the other side o’ yer window; I wouldn’t dream o’ leavin’ my friends behind. Ya know me. As much as she might irritate me at times, I aim ta be like my big sister: loyal, dependable ‘n honest. And right now, I can honestly promise ya this: I’ll be right back ta see ya again.”
Sweetie Belle seemed to consider her confident statement for a second, before asking, “You promise?”
“Yeah!”
“Then…” Sweetie Belle paused to think, before continuing her sentence. "Then I’m coming with!” The filly decided, rising to her hooves. “If you’re going, even for a few seconds, you can’t go alone: buddy system!”
“You sure?”
“Nope! Are you?”
“Nope!” Apple Bloom replied, laughing while trotting back over to the window. “But, ready or not, I need ta see what’s out there!”
She struggled to undo the latch on the window, before managing to unjam the small mechanism. The window violently swung open, nearly colliding with Apple Bloom’s head. She got onto her hind legs, looked outside for a few seconds, then jumped through the small opening. Sweetie Belle followed suit a few seconds later, and bumped straight into her friend’s flank. She looked at Apple Bloom, noticing that she was standing rigidly on the spot, before realizing that it was due to the ferocity of the wind; she was trying her best to stay on her hooves.
Sweetie turned her head to look back at their entrance into this unholy storm, wondering whether Apple Bloom would be content with returning to the room soon.
Her window was gone.
Sweetie Belle stared at the blank space for a few seconds, her young mind temporarily unable to understand just what was happening. The spot where they had emerged had no windows or other openings; it was a section of the Carousel Boutique’s wall, devoid of anything that could have been used as an entrance.
She turned back to Apple Bloom and shouted out, “How are we going to get back inside?”
“We’ll just jump back through the window!”
“There is no window!” Sweetie replied hopelessly.
Apple Bloom turned back to look at their means of access, intent on proving her friend wrong. However, she too was unable to spot anything that even resembled an entrance, seeing only a solid wall.
Before she could express confusion or concern, a shrill cry was heard by the two friends, coming from the opposite end of the street on which they were standing. They turned to look at the house situated there, and saw something that surprised Apple Bloom and concerned Sweetie Belle.
There, pinned against the wall of a brown house with an orange stable door and green windowsills, were Applejack and Fluttershy, taking shelter in the alleyway between two structures. They looked ragged, as if they had been out in the storm for days without finding respite for even a moment. Fluttershy’s pink mane was waterlogged, her hair plastered to her face and back. She seemed to be badly injured on her stomach, a gaping wound evident in that region. Her face was contorted into an expression of pain as Applejack tried to use part of her ripped Stetson hat to slow the bleeding.
The farmer seemed to be frantic as she tried to patch up her friend, as if the strip of cloth she was holding was the only thing that would give Fluttershy a chance at survival. As she continued to work, she looked up to survey her surroundings. Her eyes became wide with fear when she spotted Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom staring back at her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sound was lost to the ceaseless noise of the storm.
Seeing no response to her sentence, Applejack stooped down and grabbed Fluttershy by one of her hooves, trying to drag her out of their hiding place towards the two fillies; she obviously wanted something, but neither of the Crusaders could guess what it was. She repeated her sentence to them, hoping that her message would reach their waiting ears.
All that Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle heard was the sound of the storm, of crashing thunder and pounding rain, and the heavy, rolling noise of rushing water.
Wait - rushing water?
They reconsidered the last item and began to wonder exactly what it meant for their current situation, before their eyes widened in realization. They looked out in all directions, hoping to spot the danger before it was upon them. They turned their heads to either side of the street in order to survey both ends at once, Apple Bloom checking to the left and Sweetie Belle the right.
Down one of the roadways nearest them, Sweetie Belle saw what appeared to be a solid wall of murky liquid rapidly rushing in their direction. Realizing that it was too late to do anything, she barely had enough time to open her mouth before the flood was upon them.
The water plowed through the four ponies like a train, not even slowing upon sweeping them up in its relentless advance through the stricken town. Apple Bloom was thrown violently against various objects underwater, briefly broke the surface, and was sucked back under to be used as a battering ram against a window that was part of one of the many houses opposing the unstoppable mass of liquid. She flew through the centre of the room, was launched out of a window on the other side, broke the surface of the water again and began paddling in an attempt to stay above the turmoil below.
She weakly kicked against the downward pull of the flood, praying that her tired and injured legs would outlast the devastating phenomenon. She assumed that the Ponyville dam wall had been incapable of holding out under the torrential downpour, and so had given out as they had arrived in this… this…
What was it? Were they in the past? The future? An alternate timeline, a negated possibility, perhaps a parallel universe?
Were they even in their own Ponyville anymore?
And if not, what then? Would they be eternally condemned to wander this area, living out the rest of their days until their inevitable deaths? Or would an answer arrive unexpectedly, allowing for them to somehow create a window back home, back to their families and friends, back to the way that things used to be; how long would they have to wait for such a miracle, if it happened at all? They didn’t have forever. In fact, they were already out of time.
It was at this point in Apple Bloom’s tired musings that her legs failed her, her energy completely spent on staying afloat after the dramatic occurrences throughout the day. She gave a few more feeble kicks before becoming completely immobile; the downward current became irresistible, pulling her under within seconds. Her body went into orbit around various pieces of debris before settling at the bottom of the mass of churning water.
Well, at least she was going to die peacefully. There were worse ways to go out: the inhabitants of Sunny Town knew it, and would continue to know it forevermore.
She sighed, letting out all the air left in her lungs, and waited silently for death’s cold embrace.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.

Sweetie Belle wasn’t faring much better than her fellow Crusader. She had been holding her head above water for a few seconds after impact, before being slammed against the wall of Sugar Cube Corner. However, even after such a hit she would have been able to swim a few more metres at least; indeed, she had tried. The flood, unfortunately, saw this as an inconvenience, and decided to increase the difficulty of her trials. As a result, she found herself following the flow of the water nearest her position, back in the direction of the small bakery. She visually searched the wall nearest herself to understand why, and very quickly spotted the reason: one of the windows had been smashed inwards below the waterline. The flood’s top priority, at the moment, was to fill the newly discovered cavity to the brim, and it saw her as an acceptable object to fill that role.
She began to panic, frantically attempting to swim in the other direction. Her small legs kicked against open water to no avail; she was being drawn in, and no amount of struggling would prevent the terrifying eventuality.
As she began to tire, the current became stronger. She knew that that meant that she was nearing the opening in the wall: if she were to be drawn in, death would be the only possible outcome. She swam harder, even though she was beginning to become exhausted from the effort. Before she could give up, however, a small approaching wave rushed over her, forcing her through the open window.
She spun wildly through the entrance, tumbling headlong until she was unable to tell which way was up. She felt herself collide head-on with something hard and round, perhaps a bedpost or doorknob somewhere in the room. She was temporarily dazed, not realizing that she had started to fall downstairs towards the kitchen of the bakery.
Sweetie Belle found herself stuck submerged, in a rotary cycle that spanned the diameter of the kitchen and was constantly picking up speed as the volume of water within the house increased. She went with the flow for a few seconds, gathering her wits and obtaining her bearings; she was in Ponyville, had fallen into Sugar Cube Corner, and had reached the… floating knives, oven, mixing bowls, cutlery and crockery suspended in her fluid surroundings… yes, she was in the kitchen.
She started to search for a way up, hoping to locate some breathable oxygen above the surface of the massive flood, only to find that her one chance at survival was inaccessible: she was unable to return to the upstairs bedroom. The entrance was blocked by a bed and various furnishings that were plastered against the door by the pressure of the rushing water attempting to surge deeper into the two-storey house.
She swam back downstairs, aiming for the front door. She grabbed hold of the knob with her telekinesis and began to twist it. It wouldn’t budge; she was locked in.
At this point, Sweetie’s lungs were beginning to ache, and her vision was darkening ever so slightly around the edges. She knew that she didn’t have much time to escape, and so made her way over to one of the windows in the small bakery. She used her aura to grab ahold of the latch and began to pull it out.
Easier said than done; the small mechanism was jammed, apparently having been neglected for quite some time. It was typical of the Cakes: they had reinforced the windows to prevent Pinkie from blasting through them with her party cannon or smashing through when experiencing a greater-than-normal sugar rush due to overconsumption of the confections within the bakery, yet had failed to oil the hinges or maintain the clasps. By now, any one of a dozen things could have been wrong with the windows, and it was for that reason that Sweetie Belle found herself unable to escape her watery prison.
She was running out of time.
Her lungs were on the verge of giving out, screaming for oxygen. Her vision was beginning to become spotty, causing for her to see swirls of colour and dark clouds that had begun to obstruct her view. She thrashed her head from side to side, trying her hardest to stay conscious despite the lack of the all-important oxygen that she so desperately required at that moment.
Sweetie abandoned her mindless assault on the stuck window and swam up to the ceiling of the kitchen, hoping to find an air bubble or two that she could use to last just a few moments longer. She kicked off the wall and made an uncoordinated attempt to ascend, convulsing due to suffocation the whole time. She was sure that she could last just a second longer, just enough to reach the panels above herself, to find some sustenance before she expired.
On the way up, her lungs finally gave in. She expelled all of the air left in her body and took a deep breath of murky water, unable to get to a proper source of oxygen in time.
Her chest began to burn as the liquid rushed in to take the place of the absent gases she needed for her survival. She stopped moving in a set direction and became stuck in place, flailing her limbs about randomly. It was her last attempt to stay alive; she was trying to cling to some of the life left in her body, but knew that she was fighting a losing battle. As young as she was, she understood that death came for everypony: she was just the one unfortunate enough to meet her fate sooner than others.
Sweetie gradually gave up on her feeble attempts at avoiding death, eventually content to spend her last few moments of consciousness reflecting on her happiness in her short time in Ponyville.
She had spent time with her sister, had gotten to know her as both the mature, proper mare that she was to the outside world, and the fun-loving pony that she could be to those that she loved dearly. She had managed to form a relationship with her; one that, until recently, she had thought to be impossible due to their conflicting personalities.
She had managed to reform the local bully with the help of her friends, and had taught her the values and virtues of friendship. She had helped her to confront her manipulative mother, and had stood by her in her decision to do something charitable for the rest of the colts and fillies in her class.
She had become an enthusiastic student to her compassionate teacher, Miss Cheerilee. Yes, there had been hiccups along the way, but her educator, operating according to her seemingly never ending fountain of understanding, had forgiven her and helped her every time she had managed to make a mess of things.
She had two loving parents, ponies who worked their hardest to provide for their youngest daughter. She knew that although other foals may brag about their place in the parenting lottery, hers were the very best for her, and that fact could never be called into question.
Along with all of that, Sweetie Belle knew in the deepest parts of herself that she had the two best friends in the whole world. When she had felt worthless for being unable to earn her cutie mark, she had found them. They had not ridiculed each other, nor had they put each other down to feel better about themselves; they had selflessly devoted so much of their time and energy to try and help each other earn their cutie marks, all the while enjoying the benefits of such a close friendship between fillies. Whenever one had a problem, the other two were there to support her; whenever one was failing, the other two were there to help her; whenever one felt as if the world was against her, the other two were there to lend an ear, no matter how mundane or ridiculous the trouble.
Yes, thought Sweetie Belle, her last thought for all of eternity; her friends were truly the best ever. And if she could die knowing that to be absolute truth, then she would die a happy filly.

In the end, the entire town had been overtaken by the flood; not one rooftop could be seen above the waters, as if Ponyville had never been there in the first place, just a large lake existing over some oddly-shaped submerged rocks.
In that case, one might be excused for mistaking two specks in the vast expanse for ponies: indeed, they certainly looked like ponies. One seemed to be an orange earth pony mare wearing what was left of a brown Stetson hat, while the other one looked like a butter-yellow pegasus who was lying exhausted across her back. They were barely staying afloat, the orange one providing all of the buoyancy while the yellow one merely tried her hardest to cling to consciousness. They were both extremely tired, having weathered out the storm for a few days longer than anypony else, living off whatever they could find in the abandoned buildings of the once friendly, flourishing town.
After a few hours they washed up on the shore of the lake, both having collapsed from the exertion of their time spent surviving nature’s onslaught. They fell asleep soon after, not realizing that all of their trials in the small town were behind them. All that they were capable of perceiving was their need for food and shelter, two scarcities in an area utterly devastated by the watery assault.
After a few hours, the yellow one woke and looked out to the land beyond their resting place, squinting. She was sure that she had spotted rescuers or survivors, somepony else who was in better shape than either one of them, perhaps someone who would be able to help them in their time of great need.
She lifted her head and croaked out a short, simple request, one that could not be mistaken for anything else given their current situation. She hoped that whoever was out there was able to hear her; she didn’t want to die without putting up a valiant fight. Her words drifted out into the expanse ahead of them, seeking out anypony who would be capable of perceiving the message and performing the duty required of them. She collapsed, her mane cushioning her head as she thought of her words, hoping that she had been heard. She repeated them to herself one more time before passing out, her mind blank save for that one short sentence.
“Help us.”

Shift

View Online

Apple Bloom was lying down on her stomach in a room of sorts. Ordinarily, this would not have concerned her in the least; she was well acquainted with the way that housing and social structures worked, despite some other ponies believing that she was merely a clueless country pony who slept on hay bales under the stars and was unable to grasp concepts more complex than corn shucking (which was a strange thing to assume; her family grew apples in abundance on their farm, not corn). However, this situation was very confusing for her due to the events of the past hour.

She had just given up and attempted to drown herself in the middle of a flood that had overtaken Ponyville due to a storm of supernatural proportions, an event that had occurred only a few moments before. She could actually sense the water still in her lungs, yet they didn’t feel uncomfortable. She had failed to die yet again, despite the fact that ponies are supposedly only able to breathe air and the gases contained therein, such as oxygen.

She went through her memories of the past hour or so, attempting to recall the reason for finding herself indoors in an area that did not seem to be struggling from the effects of an unseasonably deadly deluge. She had jumped through Sweetie’s window (now where was that filly?), been caught in a fierce storm, spotted Applejack and Fluttershy (which answered the question of where they’d been for the past few days), got bowled over by the front end of a flood, had gotten smashed into and through a few buildings, had finally run out of energy and sunk to the bottom, before breathing in as much water as possible.

None of that explained why she was by herself in a room that seemed to function as an attic for someone out there, filled to the brim with spools of string, strips of cloth and random furniture that looked like it belonged to a pony used to being considered high-class and high maintenance. Might as well go and look around; nothing new was being learnt by staying in one place.

She picked herself up from the floor and slowly walked over to the door, taking in more of her surroundings. It was strange; she felt like she knew this room, yet she was unable to determine the reason. The colour was unfamiliar, yet the size and shape were so… so there, in the periphery of her memory. It looked completely different from any room that she had ever stayed in, yet was identical to one that she knew she knew. She would probably remember upon exiting and seeing an area that she recognized.

She reached for the doorknob. Locked. Of course it was. Why would it ever be simple; nothing else had been in the past few hours.

She trotted back over to the other side of the room, hoping to find a window or hole that could double as an exit. There had been a bit of light coming in earlier - all that she needed to do was find the source.

She spotted the small bit-sized circle of light against the dull wood of the store room floor. She positioned her hoof under it then began to slowly lift it up, keeping it directly in line with the illuminating beam the whole way. Her hoof stopped at a gap between the wall and a wardrobe shoved up against it. There must’ve been a window or hole behind that thing.

She pressed up against it and began to roughly push it out of the way. In that moment, she was very thankful for her enhanced strength as an earth pony. It was one of the perks that clearly came along with her subspecies, as all earth ponies naturally possessed speed and strength in abundance, as well as being in sync with nature, being able to feel what it needed, what it was trying to tell them, and the capacity to directly influence its workings. The abilities that she had yet to figure out were the cutie mark related ones and her apparent inability to die by drowning; neither one made any sense, even if she were a unicorn. Magic was defined by rules, Twilight had explained it to her. Their magic was versatile, yes, but not endless, never infinite. It had applications, but it was unable to extend beyond already established ones without proper planning and formulation, and even then there were absolute rules that could never be broken no matter how hard one tried; one of those rules was that in order for something magical to be done, something had to be performed first, such as a spell. She, on the other hoof, had no spells applied to herself, yet she could survive without air underwater for minutes at a time and could track anypony by their cutie marks, as well as other cutie mark related problems that she could ascertain without prior knowledge. So far, unexplainable.

The wardrobe was cleared away in seconds, allowing her a view of the opening. It was a window. She struggled with the clasp for a bit, as it had obviously been left to rust for quite a while. Eventually, she was able to get the jammed mechanism loose. She opened the entrance, attempted to take a deep breath, realized that her lungs were already full to the brim with water, shrugged, compressed her legs in order to build up more force, and jumped.

Big mistake. The window had been on the second storey of a rather tall building. She fell through the air for a few seconds before roughly slamming into the ground, getting most of the water knocked out of her lungs. She stood up shakily and began to take deep breaths, suddenly realizing how good oxygen felt to her when it was coming into her body as air.

She turned around slowly, hoping to get a good look at the building that she had just exited.

Carousel Boutique. Of course. That was the building that they had left when jumping through Sweetie’s window, so it would only make sense that if she were to be dumped somewhere unexpectedly, it would be there. But, in that case, why had Sweetie Belle not been with her in the room when she had travelled there? Where was she? Apple Bloom was trying to get a fix on Sweetie’s position using her cutie mark sense, but for some reason it was extremely fuzzy. All that she knew was that she could find her friend somewhere in Ponyville; beyond that, she was flying blind. The window, or portal, or whatever it was, must have messed with her mysterious skill. She would probably recover it later, but for now she needed to use her natural senses if she were hoping to find her friend.

Thinking of where she and Sweetie Belle had been throughout the day, she decided to head in the direction of the Castle of Friendship. Sweetie had visited that location earlier in the day while Apple Bloom was tracking her below the ground, presumably to talk to her sister. Apple Bloom wished that she could find Applejack; she was probably somewhere in Ponyville, having unexpectedly appeared there just like the two Crusaders.

That thought just raised more questions: how in Equestria had Applejack and Fluttershy ever ended up going to that strange version of Ponyville, anyway? Were they alternate forms of themselves who were native to the area? Were they the Applejack and Fluttershy from Apple Bloom’s version of Equestria? Were there even multiple versions of Equestria?

Applejack had once come back home telling Apple Bloom of Twilight’s adventure to stop Starlight Glimmer from erasing the first Sonic Rainboom from existence. Unlike Twilight’s first foray into time travel, which became nothing more than a causal loop of paranoia, that adventure had spawned multiple versions of the same Equestria from different iterations of the same decision. Here, no time travel had occurred, yet the result seemed to be very much the same: jump through a window, end up in a stormy, ravaged version of your hometown. Why? What had happened to that window? Was it magical? If so, that was some alien magic that Twilight had never explained.

Best not to think about it. Apple Bloom would find Sweetie Belle, make sure that she was okay, and then everything would be fine.

Apple Bloom had entered the Castle of Friendship. The large, blue, crystalline walls marked the hallways that would lead her to the entrance of the throne room, containing the Cutie Map and assorted large chairs for those deemed good enough friends of Twilight, the Princess of Friendship, to warrant a seat in her presence.

What kind of friendship system is this? Self-importance and arrogance is what it is. The Elements of… Hypocrisy! That’s what they should be called! I mean, it seems rather odd that there would be an established princess over all friendship, doesn’t it? I would understand a princess of the sun, and another to cover the night shift. If you live in a geocentric system while every other planet in your universe orbits a star, then you would want to make sure that someone is monitoring the status of the star’s orbit around your planet, ensuring that the roles don’t spontaneously reverse. That could be rather messy, and the absolute best scenario would probably be being slingshot into deep space, doomed to a fate of slow death by freezing.

But come on! Princess of Friendship? What? Where I’m from, time was always the thing that needed to be controlled, while friendship was pretty much a given. No one needed to tell us how to cuddle, or instruct us on proper sleepover etiquette - we just knew. Here, the ponies seem to be so backwards, requiring governance over each and every facet of their beings.

Let’s see: Princess of the Day? Check. Princess of the Night? Yep. Princess of Love? Uh-huh. Princess of Friendship? Got that. Discord, the anthropomorphic avatar of chaos? Certainly. The Elements of Harmony, weird crystals representing the virtues of friendship of all things? Seen it. What’s next? Princess of Advice? Princess of Irritation? Boredom, the draconequus of tedium? The Elements of Life? The Compounds of Substance? The Molecules of Matter? The Atoms of Existence? What do you have to instruct us on how to do next, o impotent realizations of abstract concepts?

Sorry, sorry. I’ll stay out of it.

Anyway - Apple Bloom trotted slowly through the castle, glancing occasionally to the left or right when she passed a room containing something slightly interesting. Her lungs still contained some water - she could feel the stuff sloshing about to the rhythm of her swaying body. It was oddly calming. She exaggerated her movements while walking in order to see whether the fluid would become more active within her body.

She continued to do so when entering the throne room, before noticing all eyes turn to her. She realized that she must have looked like she was dancing horribly to some inaudible beat, shaking about like an epileptic fly with six left feet and cardiac arrhythmia. She stopped, feeling a blush beginning to shade her face as she lowered her head with shame. No, she was not just jiving like a drunken Hooviet soldier that had been told to do the Cancan the way the mares do it; she was feeling the water shake about in her lungs after having had most of it expelled due to a short two-storey drop from a window.

Somehow, that seemed like it would just attract more intense stares.

She slowly raised her head and looked in turn at the mares before her, hoping that staring back would make the scene awkward enough for them to avert their gazes. Her eyes roamed over to Twilight first, then to Pinkie. She looked at Rainbow Dash, glanced at Rarity, spotted her sister staring back at her, and finally stopped at Derpy Hooves.

What? Hang on. Go back.

Derpy? Muffins? Ditzy? That grey mare with the blonde mane and strange eyes? She had her own throne? In the Castle of Friendship of all places? Where was Fluttershy; why was she sitting in Fluttershy’s place? And why was the design embedded in the throne one depicting a group of soap bubbles clumped together, instead of three pink butterflies?

“What’s goin’ on here?” It was the only question Apple Bloom could voice that would accurately capture her confusion at the mixed-up appearance of affairs.

“Whaddya mean, little filly?” asked Applejack, obviously equally confused at Apple Bloom’s reaction to what she saw.

“I mean, why is Derpy sittin’ in Fluttershy’s place?” An innocent enough question, yet one that certainly seemed to get a rather disproportionately intense reaction from Rainbow Dash. Before Applejack could respond, Rainbow flew off her hinges and took the whole proverbial doorframe with her.

“That’s not funny!” she shouted, furious at something in Apple Bloom’s question. In an instant she had zoomed across the room and was inches from the filly’s face, her whole body tensed as if to punt her through the doorway. Apple Bloom was suddenly very nervous. She briefly looked past the steaming pegasus to regard the others. For some reason, Rarity’s eyes seemed to be tearing over slightly.

“Fluttershy is not something we joke about around here, so you had better just crawl back into whatever pit of Tartarus you came from, because I will hurt you if you don’t!” Rainbow spat at the filly. Her rage seemed to intensify the longer she looked at her, yet Apple Bloom needed to know what had prompted the reaction. Why was Fluttershy such a sensitive topic for her?

“Why’re ya so angry with me?” Apple Bloom asked Rainbow. The pegasus seemed to become stunned momentarily, as if this were the most ridiculous question that she had heard all day, perhaps even all year - random and incoherent enough to floor her temporarily - before her wrath returned four-fold.

“Real funny. Don’t tell me you don’t know,” she said, almost whispering.

Apple Bloom tilted her head to the side and asked, “‘Bout what?”

Rainbow’s eyes became wide. Her head tilted to the side in much the same way as Apple Bloom’s, before slowly beginning to laugh.

“Heh... Ha ha... Ha ha ha ha!” Rainbow Dash threw her head back and descended into a stream of intimidating cackling for nearly a full minute while her friends nervously looked on, apprehension clear in their body language. She slowly lowered her head and looked down to regard Apple Bloom from her elevated position.

“You really don’t know?”

Apple Bloom hesitantly shook her head.

“Well, that’s no good. Rarity, why don’t you educate our young visitor here on Fluttershy’s final destination,” Rainbow Dash requested, the final two words of her sentence drawn out, all the while sounding like the noise rough sandpaper makes when being rubbed vigorously against polished silver.

Rarity just turned away, her runny makeup streaming down her face as she quickly took deep, ragged breaths in between small, strangled crying sounds.

Rainbow seemed nonchalant.

“No? Then how about you, Twilight?”

Twilight stayed silent.

“Okay. Derpy?”

Her eyes rolled inwards to focus on the back of her skull.

“Pinkie?”

Her mane deflated and her fur became slightly desaturated.

“Applejack?”

She pulled her hat over the top of her face, not a tear in her eyes.

“Fine then. I’ll tell it,” Rainbow said, smiling the entire time. “Get ready for a story, kiddo.”

Rainbow Dash settled into a reclined position in midair, her wings positioned beneath her body while her forelegs went to the back of her head. She looked as if she were sitting calmly upon a fold-up chair on the beach.

“Once upon a time,” she began grandly, “there was a yellow pegasus. She was one of the kindest pegasi anyone had ever known, even though she was too shy to be around anyone. She lived in a cottage with the rest of her animal friends, happy with her life there.”

Fluttershy was in her backyard, looking over each of her animals one more time as she mentally prepared herself to descend into the dark expanse of the Everfree Forest. Her apprehension was at its maximum yet again: for the second time that week, Angel Bunny had not appreciated her gentle reprimands directed at him whenever he tried to take the food that belonged to the other animals. It was inconsiderate to steal carrots from the bowls of visiting rabbits, not to mention rude and impolite. He needed to know that it was wrong, yet every time she tried to tell him that he just looked toward her angrily, as if she were betraying his trust.

It was all rather frustrating for her. She had even considered using her Stare on him on a few occasions, but had decided against it every time the thought had entered her mind. He needed to get better on his own terms; she shouldn’t have to force the rabbit into behaving well while running the risk of damaging him psychologically by using a technique that caused for all creatures to fear her, no matter how large or powerful. That was a bit overkill, given the simplicity of the situation.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only technique that at least temporarily stopped him from being mean to the other animals. He was determined to disobey her, obviously angry about something; Fluttershy could guess why, and she was sorry for her mistake. But that did not excuse his cruelty towards everything that moved. She had once tried to placate him by giving him a soothing tummy rub, only for him to turn around and attempt to bite her hoof off. Well, if that was how he was going to behave then she needed to teach him that she could be assertive as well.

As soon as she was done crying with joy upon locating him in that forbidding area.

Fully psyched up, Fluttershy took the first step in the direction of the Everfree, determined to return by dinnertime. Mr Beaverton had a slight flu, so he needed regular mealtimes and extended sleeping periods, as well as his medication that she had gotten from the local veterinarian (besides her, of course. She would never tell anypony, but the reason that she was often invited to so many animal conventions and trips was that she was fully certified; animals were her passion, why not pursue it all the way?). She was there to monitor his behaviour, ensuring that he would actually do what was required of him in order to recover. She didn’t want for his condition to become more serious.

Rainbow continued with her side of the tale.

“One day, somepony went to her cottage to ask for some help with a sick pet.”

“Who was it?” asked Aple Bloom.

“It’s not important,” replied Rainbow Dash. Apple Bloom couldn’t help but notice a tear slide down Applejack’s cheek.

“Anyway, they went to her cottage. When they got there, she wasn’t home. They left, thinking that she would be back the next day. They came back then, finding her gone again. Left again. Came back again. Left. Came back. Left. Came back.”

Rainbow illustrated her point by moving her left forehoof first to one side, then to the other, showing the pony’s back-and-forth movement to and from Fluttershy’s cottage over time.

“It went like that for a week. Finally, this pony couldn’t wait anymore. Their dog was getting really sick, and didn’t look like it was gonna make it. So, they got an awesome friend to accompany them and made their way into the Everfree, ‘cause she hadn’t been seen in the town for a while.

Fluttershy reached the periphery of the forest and looked in, preparing to alert her friends to any danger that she may have spotted from the outside. The forest floor, as usual, was covered in a dense fog that obscured a pony’s view of whatever may have been lurking at hoof level, waiting to take a snap at anyone unfortunate enough to draw close to an invisible hazard.

She entered the forest, stepping over the boundary separating the rest of Ponyville from this mysterious location. After some searching, she was able to make out the pathway that she had worn into the forest floor for herself over many treks and trips into the thick of things. She began to trot along, merrily hoping to distract herself from her spooky surroundings.

After some time, she passed by Zecora’s hut. She’d never known the zebra personally, but she knew her now. They regularly discussed mundane things such as herbs that were safe to be used for curing ailments, sleeping potions, their time spent in the small town and other topics that Fluttershy enjoyed, all over two lovely cups of tea carefully prepared by Zecora herself. Fluttershy always loved tea: it felt so nice and warm to her, a reminder of years past and time spent with her animal friends, chattering impatiently about some or other new problem that she needed to resolve for them.

She ventured deeper into the Everfree, calling out for Angel as she passed the small hut.

“Angel! Angel! I’m sorry for having made you upset, but you should know that being so mean to the other animals in the cottage is impolite.”

She stopped and waited for a bit, hoping to hear a small squeak slightly deeper into the forest, or the sight of her little Angel poking his head out from behind a rock to check where her calls were coming from.

After waiting for a few minutes within which absolutely nothing of note took place, Fluttershy continued onwards deeper into the forest.

“As they were walking along, they saw some leaves shredded in the canopy overhead,” Rainbow Dash said. “They carried on, ignoring that sight. Then, they noticed that some bark was ripped off of the trees near the pathway. Again, it was ignored. Then, more signs of something gone wrong began to appear all over the place: upturned boulders, trees damaged, some even knocked over, large clearings that had been made using brute force, trampled animals, blood spatters. Eventually, they even found a few fragments of bone on the pathway. They went on a little further, finding little things like bits of yellow fur, strips of flesh, some teeth and more blood. Then, they found who they were looking for.”

Rainbow’s expression slowly began to change. She started to frown, concentrating on keeping her mood neutral throughout the entirety of her little story, hoping that her emotions would not betray her.

Fluttershy was getting closer to that spot, and she didn’t want to have to go there. It was always hard for her to be so near to the land-based hydras, more so now than ever. She ceased her calls and slowly trotted along the pathway, looking straight ahead to avoid the sight that she wished she didn’t have to approach.

Eventually, she decided that ignoring it was no use: she was going to falter and look there anyway, so why not just get it over with. She slowly picked her gaze up from the path ahead, her eyes searching for the thing that she despised seeing in the forest. It always served as a reminder of that day, the day that she had changed irrevocably. True, while the alteration to herself wasn’t too drastic, the memories associated with it were rather traumatic. Not as traumatic as flight camp, but they still served as a reminder that some things just can’t be controlled. Fate was one of those things. Eventually, her eyes came to rest on an object tangled up in the vines hanging down from the tops of the trees.

“The yellow pegasus was tangled up in some vines, her stomach… shre… shr…” At this point, Rainbow Dash began to tear up as her speech faltered. “Sorry, it’s a little hard for me to say this.”

She wiped her eyes with her hooves, clearing out the tears as she concentrated on her breathing, hoping to stabilize it somewhat.

“They found her stomach… gone, along with a lot of…” She took a deep, shaky breath, then continued speaking. “Along with a lot of other pieces.”

There, suspended in midair, were the vines that had entrapped her body. At least somepony had taken it away, though she didn’t know who that could have been.

The hydra that had tried to make a meal of her had found the position that she was in to be very awkward as far as eating was concerned; as a result, the process of her consumption had been rather slow and torturous.

The pain had been more intense than anything she had ever felt before. Had she been in any condition to do so, Fluttershy wagered that she would have been screaming her lungs out due to the sensations that she had felt in that moment. Of course, screaming wouldn’t have done her any good; at the time, Zecora hadn’t even arrived in Ponyville yet, and she was the only one that lived in the forest due to the abundance of natural herbs that she could use in her strange concoctions.

After the mauling, Fluttershy had been unable to do anything other than hang suspended and watch as the beast retreated back into the forest, having left enough of her there to stay alive for a few minutes more.

Rainbow Dash stopped entirely for a few minutes right then, her face scrunched up into an expression of pained restraint. She just stayed that way for a while until she was ready to tell the story again while Apple Bloom looked on, confused at seeing the normally boastful, self-absorbed pegasus so volatile, perhaps even unstable.

Eventually, she seemed to calm down a bit, recomposing herself until she could speak without pausing excessively in order to control her emotions.

“Her animals still… they still play at her cottage, acting like she never left, happily prancing about in her yard while everypony around them who… ever… knew her… falls apart.”

Fluttershy couldn’t help but reflect on the incident.

Due to the severity of the attack, she had lost the ability to feel pain, or much of anything. She had hung limp, swaying in the occasional unnatural breeze that made its way through the eldritch forest. Finally, her body had given up and she was able to make her descent to the ground below. She would have moved on to the place that all long-gone ponies she had met afterwards had told her about, had it not been for the fact that her animals and family needed her in order to function. For that reason, she had made her way back to the cottage, finally safe from the dangers that lurked around every corner in their world. Truly, dying was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She’d never had any true friends who were waiting for her. Other than her parents, nopony would’ve missed her anyway.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes took on a faraway stare and her left forehoof reached out before her as the tears came, almost as if she was dreaming about something or someone she could almost touch, her memories of them being so clear and absolute.

“It’s weird - she was just hanging there, so carefree. So peaceful. It was almost like… like you could forget the fact that she was dead, and just see the kindness left in her body, like even when whatever it had been was ripping her apart, she was kind to it, knowing that it was just doing what it does to survive. Nopony had been there for her when she needed them most, but she was probably thinking about how much they were going to miss her when she was gone.”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes suddenly became hard once more.

“She cared, and nopony ever smiled. She wept, and nopony ever cried. She died, and… and no one even blinked.”

Author's Notes:

See, it's chapters like this one that make me wonder this story is eligible for the alternate universe tag. It's so obviously diverged from the canon counterpart, but I'm afraid that I'll get in trouble for using the tag if the story didn't start in an alternate version of Equestria. Any opinions on the matter would be greatly appreciated.

Last one before my trip that spans the whole week - Monday to Friday. It was a weird one to write, for some reason. I think that it's because I alternated the bits of Fluttershy's and Rainbow Dash's points of view. That was just an idea that I had. It probably reads terribly, but it's just what I felt would make sense in some universe where order is chaos and bacon is necktie. Fun, but weird to write and read.

I actually started off with two paragraphs originally: one for Rainbow Dash and another for Fluttershy. Then, I decided that because you already knew the story from Rainbow's perspective and would immediately understand what was going on with the other paragraph, I intertwined them. Long-winded, I know.

Actually, the original draft for this chapter was accidentally deleted by me. Directly after I finished it. I saw an X button next to the name of the file, thought "Wut duz DAT doo¿" and pressed it. Never doing that again. It was going to be about Sweetie Belle, but I decided against that when rewriting it. She's probably going to be in the next chapter, along with Scootaloo.

Sorry for the coherent thought patterns and lack of self deprecating jokes in the author's note. I've run out of jokes for the day. Because I work on a budget. Yeah.

New Tricks

by Will

Infodump

The Arrival

The Meeting

Merge

The Window

Shift