> Infected With Your Magic
>  by Superbowl
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Another Day at the Office
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After two weeks Cadenza must have caught on, judging by the sounds from the stairway—or rather, the lack of them. There was no knock at the office door, no subsequent opening of said door, no call for “Principal Cinch!”, not even any muttering. Right away, Cadenza passed the top floor that housed the principal’s office and went up the side stairway. It led to the usually locked door to the roof of Crystal Prep Academy.

This door’s lock was replaced after the old one had completely rusted. These days, though, someone had been to the roof almost every morning of the school week. That someone was Principal Abacus Cinch.

Cadenza, too, learned to climb up here if she needed to see the principal this early in the morning. She never complained about the extra flight of stairs—she probably thought Cinch’s repeated ritualistic relocations were a sign of some positive development brought upon by her recent visit to the other world.

Or maybe it was an excuse for some exercise—to help keep her figure. It did seem that she had someone to impress: Cinch would often see Cadenza on her off hours smiling giddily over her phone. Whatever the case, her coming up to join Cinch on the roof meant that she had something important to say. 

Before the dean could utter a greeting, Cinch turned away from her view over the jagged railing—at the back side of the school, so as not to loom over the entrance as all the students filed inside—and said her usual cold but polite hello.

“Good morning, Principal Cinch,” Cadenza said. “There’s something I think you would want to look at.” Cinch eyed the folder she held in her hand. “It’s not that, actually, but that’s for your attention as well. Maybe we could look at it all in the office?”

“Of course.” Her arms behind her back, Cinch headed to the roof access stairway. She made sure to lock the door after Cadenza passed through, even though she trusted her students not to wander onto the roof and somehow fall off. Such were the regulations.





The women entered the dimly lit office and assumed the usual conversing position—Cinch behind the desk, Cadenza standing in front. Only then Cadenza put the folder down and explained that it contained three applications the school had received during the weekend.

Cinch was mildly surprised by that.

“They must think highly of themselves if they believe we would accept new students mid-term,” she said. “Or they’re simply ignorant. I assume you have checked the applications already, Cadance?”

Cadenza nodded. “They seem to be in order. I decided not to make that decision for you seeing how the situation in the school is still somewhat… delicate.”

‘Delicate’ was the right word. 

Most students were content continuing their education with no complaints, but Cinch had noticed the occasional Crystal Prepper together with someone from CHS—outside of school, of course.

She was wary of what long-term effects this mixing would have. Something still needed to be done to stave off their culture of excuses and slacking. A strict and demanding curriculum may not be enough anymore.

More importantly, although Cadenza had managed to negotiate the nullification of the Friendship Games tie (that Principal Celestia had proclaimed as soon as Cinch had left the premises that evening), the news of a ‘series of mishaps’ and the subsequent cancellation of the Games made people pay closer attention to both schools.

“Indeed. Accepting three new students in the middle of the year could be a costly mistake with all the eyes on us.” Cinch took the folder and tapped it on the desk, even though no papers were out of place. “I shall look into these and arrange an interview if I find the applications satisfactory. I trust that you can discern whether they can handle our curriculum and our discipline.”

“I understand,” said Cadenza, once again nodding. “The second thing I thought you'd want to see is an article posted online. By one of our students, actually.”

Cinch raised an eyebrow. “Why should I care about what our students do on the internet in their free time?”

“It might actually be important, Principal Cinch. Young people have quite a voice these days thanks to social media.” Cadenza made a vague motion with her arm that Cinch could not even begin to interpret. ”It’s not just their parents that we want to appeal to as a school anymore. Prospective students can form strong opinions from what they read online.”

“I see.” Cinch proceeded to open a drawer and take out a laptop, something she had recently purchased. She set it out and powered it on.

Cadenza reached for the laptop. “May I?”

“By all means,” Cinch said and turned the laptop to her. Cadenza leaned down, took a torn sheet of paper out of her breast pocket and typed the address into the computer.

“Here,” Cadenza said as she pushed the laptop back. “This is a blog post. In essence, a cross between a newspaper article and a diary entry. Anyone can read it, though, and lots of people read what Trenderhoof posts.”

Cinch recognized the name. Trenderhoof. Participant in the Friendship Games, disqualified in the first round. Romantic. Somewhat meek but can talk passionately about things he considers important. Loves new experiences, but only if he can share them with others afterwards. Travels around the world at any opportunity (with his parents’ money). Aspires to be a journalist.

“He visited Canterlot High at some point after the Friendship Games,” Cadenza continued. “Seems like he wanted to immerse himself in the CHS environment and see how it differs from ours. That’s pretty much what the article's about.”

Cinch skimmed through the text.



Crystal Prep, get with the times!



The article started with cheap and unabashed rhetoric, possibly the weakest that Cinch had seen in recent memory. A photo of Crystal Prep under a glum overcast sky next to a photo of Canterlot High’s front yard glowing in the afternoon sun, smiling students walking by.

No rational reader would fall for this obvious juxtaposition, but Cinch knew perfectly well that even that was too much to ask for.



If I were to pick one word that comes to mind when I look at the students of Canterlot High, it would be “happy”.



The text went on and on like that. Trenderhoof sang praises to the lackadaisical attitude that dominated the halls and classrooms of CHS.

Of course, a prospective student and someone like Cinch would likely draw different conclusions from this narrative. The former would be attracted to an easy school life. To Cinch, however, the described behavior seemed unnervingly unnatural, which was perhaps not too far from the truth, considering what stood right in front of Canterlot High.

Magic... Magic originating from a parallel world seeped out of that portal.

Cinch had no concern for the way those horses on the other side dealt with it, but allowing it to spread through the real world was simply unacceptable. The signs already showed—Canterlot High was slowly turning into a miniature version of the equine dimension.

Cinch had a suspicion that its graduates would fare about as well in the real world as one of those horses.



I approached a recent transfer to CHS, one Twilight Sparkle. Once the top student at Crystal Prep, she had decided that a more social and welcoming environment might be better suited to her for the rest of her education.



There was a short interview with Cinch’s former star student. Twilight was made to sound positively enchanted by the fact that people wanted to talk to her and ‘be her friends’. Of course, what was left out was that those people only wanted her to do their homework.

Then again, that would’ve been the case in a normal school, not CHS.

Thankfully, any mention of the disastrous Friendship Games was omitted. From Cadenza’s description, an article like this was precisely the sort of platform where a student’s claims of how evil the principal was would have been taken seriously. Perhaps Trenderhoof had some sense after all...



Canterlot High realizes that the best work is done when the people working are happy. It creates a friendly space that does not wear one’s very soul down to the bone. Bashing our hands with rulers and piling up so much grindwork that we don’t have free time between school and sleep is not in style anymore, Crystal Prep. Maybe you should learn from the ones that have moved ahead of you.



...Then again, maybe not.

Cinch closed the laptop and looked at Cadenza. “I assume this has already been read by our students?”

Cadenza nodded. “I’ve heard many of them talking about it. It seems to have made quite an impression.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, originally only a few students changed their attitudes,” the dean said. “The ones who had a certain... bonding experience near the Friendship Games’ end.”

“The Shadowbolts,” Cinch said with a nod. “Understandable.”

“They stuck together after that,” continued Cadenza, “and I think they made friends with the Canterlot High finalists as well.”

Cinch nodded again, slower.

“Now that almost the entire school has read this article, everyone’s thinking about its message.” Cinch’s lips formed a small snarl, but Cadenza didn’t seem to notice. “It really inspired them, Principal Cinch. Now everyone’s making friends.” She grinned. “With each other and the CHS students as well. They talk in the hallways between classes. People actually smile, which, I don’t know if you noticed, was not very common before.”

“I would expect such an article to provoke envy,” said Cinch. “It does a rather thorough job of minimizing our accomplishments and glorifying things that a school is not meant to provide in the first place.”

“School is almost like a second home to people, Principal Cinch.” Cadenza tilted her head. ”It’s only natural to try to form bonds here.”

“Is it now?” Cinch stood up. “All of my years in Crystal Prep indicate otherwise.” She slowly walked to the window. “Even you’ve worked here long enough to know that everyone here functioned perfectly fine before. Grades have always been high across the board. People coming out of Crystal Prep became successful.” Cinch opened the blinds and looked outside. “Canterlot is polluting their minds.”





Having sent Cadenza off to summon Trenderhoof—as soon as the current class finished—Cinch phoned Principal Celestia. Plans were brewing in her head and they required Trenderhoof to be allowed to visit Canterlot High and publish his observations. Cinch was not certain Trenderhoof would agree to her proposal, but she did not want his excursions to seem suspicious to the CHS principal if he did.

Cinch managed to sound convincingly forthcoming and sincere to Celestia, who approved the plan without hesitation, but not before suggesting they talk in person sometime soon. To that Cinch had to reluctantly agree with the promise of arranging it when she had the time (coming from Celestia, “sometime soon” meant “delay as much as you want”).

Now all she had to do was present her offer to Trenderhoof in the... correct light.

While she waited, Cinch decided to look over the applications that Cadenza had left on her desk. She picked them up, came to the window, turned her back to it and started looking through the papers. The light was softer than the lamps’.

Three applications. Three girls. A lot in common, possibly applied together as a group. Seemed to meet all the requirements. No real families though, one legal guardian listed for all three of them.

Meaning they were probably not related to someone important, and thus declining these applications wouldn’t make any new enemies.

Accepting them, on the other hand, could have quite a diverse range of unfortunate consequences. They could underperform and spoil the school’s academic record. Or they could distract other students with their sudden appearance and potentially unusual behavior.

Cadenza’s hypothetical approval was not a guarantee that the girls would be fit for Crystal Prep, after all. She was too kind sometimes.

Cinch decided not to take the risk. She tossed the papers back on her desk and turned to the window, looking outside once more, then opened it and propped her arms on the windowsill.

The fact that she had just decided to deny top level education to three young women based on a collection of pure hypotheticals didn’t escape Cinch, but she struggled to doubt her decision.

She looked down on the street, at the people walking and driving. It was still early in the morning, so there were not that many. Even so, the city already looked like the hive of activity that it was.

Most of the people out there had not graduated Crystal Prep and they were perfectly fine. Busy with their lives, having purpose and somewhere to be. And Cinch could say with certainty that if there was something her school wasn’t, it was anybody’s last choice. These Sonata, Aria and Adagio would simply have to pick another school, one that could afford to accept them.

As Cinch idly observed the city life, several knocks came from the door. She sighed, closed the window and took her seat. The city noise must’ve drowned out the school bell. Cinch opened the laptop with Trenderhoof’s article still on the screen.

“Come in.”

The door opened and instead of Trenderhoof, in walked Twilight Sparkle’s older brother and Crystal Prep alumnus, Shining Armor. Cinch hadn’t seen him since he and Cadenza fetched her contact sheet for Everton. The dean had brought her the sheet, of course, but Armor, his brotherly encouragement duties completed, hadn’t had a reason to come back.

So what did he want now?

“Hello, Principal Cinch,” he said, approaching the middle of her office and awkwardly stopping there. Despite his uncertain mannerisms, his tone was stoic and serious.

“Cadance told me about that one student’s article. The one she had shown you today.”

Cadenza talked to Armor outside of work? Well, this shed light on one more mystery Cinch hadn’t cared about.

“I know what prompted your decision to get Twilight to participate in the Friendship Games, Principal Cinch,” Armor said in a mildly accusatory tone. “Canterlot High’s growing reputation. You thought it was a threat and you stooped to blackmail!”

Principal Cinch kept a neutral expression on her face. She wondered, however, why Shining Armor only now decided to confront her about this matter. He was incredibly defensive of his little sister and he certainly had a reason to be angry. Had Twilight not told him until yesterday, perhaps? Surely Cadenza would have.

“Twilight said that it was no big deal, but I saw how shaken she was after the games. And now there’s another reason for you to see CHS as a threat.” Shining lowered his head to glare at Cinch even more intensely. ”I want to make sure that you do not do anything against that school now that Twilight’s there. I’ll report your blackmailing if I have to, even if Twilight asked me not to.”

“Shining Armor. Why would I deliberately seek to damage Canterlot High’s reputation? I’ve only ever sought to curb its rise. I never wish harm, however indirect, to come to any student,” Cinch said calmly.

“And what do you call what you did to Twilight?” Armor raised his arm. “My poor sister suffered abuse for an entire day at those games!”

“I seem to recall you being here in the office, encouraging her to participate in the games too, Shining Armor.” Cinch took some papers on her desk and shuffled them. The school bell rang. “And if you think the games were the only thing weighing down on her, you are tragically uninformed. That little experiment she had insisted on conducting—instead of preparing for the games, I might add—unleashed utter havoc, and the CHS students screaming at her for it affected her much more than anything I did.”

Not even bothering to look at her accuser, Cinch took the now neatly stacked papers and put them in a drawer. Only after that did she raise her eyes to meet Shining Armor’s again.

”Perhaps her miserable performance in the archery event was my fault? Perhaps her general inability to handle any kind of pressure is my fault? Perhaps I forced you to encourage her to participate in the games even though you, as her brother, should have been able to foresee how she would handle it?”

Shining Armor’s expression darkened, but before he could let his emotions get the better of him, he was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Trenderhoof poking his head inside. When the student saw that Cinch wasn’t alone, he immediately ducked out with a muttered apology.

Cinch locked her hands and leaned back into the chair.

“Now, preparing Twilight for adult life is not my concern anymore. Canterlot High will have to teach her discipline. But I can assure you, Shining Armor, that I have no ill intentions towards any student, mine or otherwise.” Cinch sighed. “My only goal is to keep Crystal Prep ahead of every other school. If someone starts, shall we say, gaining on us… it is my task to make sure we establish ourselves as unmistakably superior.”

Shining Armor looked like he was about to protest, but Cinch cut him off.

“The author of the article is waiting outside.” She waved her hand at the door. ”As soon as you leave, I will be arranging for him to write even more, so that we may learn of Canterlot High’s successes... and beat them at everything they excel at. Nothing more will come from this.”

Shining Armor did not look entirely placated with her explanation, but Cinch hadn’t really been aiming for that.

“So, you see, there is no reason to be concerned for Twilight.” Cinch allowed a shadow of a smirk to fall on her face. “What you ought to be concerned about is how your constant interactions with Dean Cadance may be affecting her job performance. You wouldn’t want to hamper her efficiency, would you? We both want her to keep her job.” Her voice turned frigid. ”Now, if you don’t mind, I have to see Trenderhoof before the next class starts.”

The young man furrowed his brow.

“Alright, Principal Cinch,” he said through his teeth. “My little sister’s finally becoming happy. You better hope nothing you do ruins that, or I won’t be put off by your threats. I’m sure Cadance will understand.” With that, Shining Armor turned around and left.

“Children, all of them,” muttered Cinch to herself as the alumnus stomped away, still visible through the door he hadn’t bothered to close behind him.

She had told him the truth. Part of it, at the very least. She did, indeed, harbor no ill will towards CHS and its students. If anything, she was going to do them a big favor in the near future.

Trenderhoof leaned into the doorway once again.

“Um, you wanted to see me, Principal Cinch?”

“Indeed,” Cinch said. “Come in.”

The young man glanced at Cinch’s open laptop. He held his breath for a few seconds before looking back at the principal.

“Mister Trenderhoof, it has come to my attention that you have written a particular article recently,” said Cinch in a deliberately colder than usual tone. It seemed to work as Trenderhoof slowly nodded with a strained gulp.

“Do not worry, you are not in trouble. It is, for the most part, a fair article.” Trenderhoof’s expression turned to one of slight disbelief. “However, I find your direct comparison between Crystal Prep and CHS to be… counterproductive. This is not how one goes about pushing for improvement. And I have done quite a lot of that, so I speak from experience.” Cinch slowly closed the laptop in front of her. “Unfavorable comparisons do not encourage, they annoy people and push them into denial.”

Trenderhoof still didn’t have anything to say. It was clear his article had not been intended for the principal’s eyes, and the boy was uncomfortable with her having read it. He moved his jaw as if he wanted to explain or defend himself but could not find the courage.

“Tell me something, mister Trenderhoof.”

Trenderhoof held his breath.

“Do you, personally, feel that in terms of education Canterlot High measures up to Crystal Prep?” Cinch locked her hands. “And be honest. Never be afraid to offer criticism.”

“Well, um... I can’t really say.” Trenderhoof’s voice trembled a little. “It’s not like I attended any of their classes. I didn’t even visit the school. I just talked to people.”

“I’m not asking for a report,” Cinch said. “In your head you obviously have quite the finished picture of CHS—just from talking to the students. You can make a... somewhat educated guess.”

“I haven’t really thought about that, Principal Cinch.” Trenderhoof tapped his chin. “Nobody complained about their education, I can say that.”

Cinch smirked. “Precisely.”

“What do you mean, Principal Cinch?”

“Unless young people changed when I wasn’t looking,” Cinch said, “our students probably do complain. Or they would if asked by a third party.” She waved her hand. ”Yet our school is widely acclaimed as the best learning institution in the city.”

Trenderhoof slowly nodded.

“Do you understand where I am going with this?” Cinch continued. “If they do not complain, it means their school isn’t pushing them, isn’t challenging them.”

“Many people I talked to did remark that attending Canterlot High was... pleasant.” The boy finally relaxed, so Cinch decided to make a push.

“With all this in mind, I have a proposal for you, Trenderhoof.”

The boy tilted his head. “What kind of proposal?”

“As I said, direct comparisons between our schools are counterproductive,” Cinch said. “It makes our school look worse for those who don’t understand what makes a reputable school.”

Trenderhoof looked at the floor.

“However, simply providing positive examples has the opposite effect, inspiring people to do better,” the principal continued. “You want what is best for Crystal Prep, do you not?”

“O-of course!” The boy nodded hurriedly.

“Then, should you agree to my proposal, I would have you periodically visit CHS and gather information on their methods, practices and so on. It would be beneficial for all, Crystal Prep included, if Canterlot High’s successes were properly explored and documented in a way that we can learn from.”

Trenderhoof raised his finger but Cinch knew what he was going to ask.

“I have already confirmed it with Principal Celestia,”—the boy raised an eyebrow—”so you will have unrestricted access to Canterlot High’s grounds, and you will be able to report on what they do right—and how they do it.”

The boy’s downcast eyes darted around for a second, then his brow furrowed and he looked at Cinch.

“I will have to think about it,” he said.

Cinch raised her eyebrow. “What possible reason can you have to decline?”

“You asked me to be honest earlier, Principal Cinch, so I will be.” Trenderhoof balled his hands into fists. He was slightly trembling, but the boy’s eyes looked forward stoically. “The reason I write is because I want to give people my honest, informed opinion on things. What you’re asking...” Trenderhoof looked down for a few seconds. “What you’re asking sounds like pushing an agenda. Like telling people just what you want them to hear. I’ll have to figure it out.”

Cinch had to commend the boy. Underneath his meek mannerisms hid a sharp-minded individual. He would make a good journalist. She wished he’d forgotten his integrity at the moment, though.

“Besides,” Trenderhoof continued, “how you’ve already arranged it with their principal... I hope you forgive me for saying it, but this feels like you’ve made my decision for me before even asking. And this is just pressuring me to agree.”

As he finished his part, the boy’s resolve visibly faltered. He cast his eyes away from Cinch and put his hands in his pockets.

Cinch slowly leaned back into her chair.

“Those are reasonable worries, mister Trenderhoof.” He immediately glanced at her. “I shall not rush you. Take your time to think my proposal over. I believe you’ll agree that your ideals will not be betrayed, and the school will benefit from it.” Cinch paused for a second. “What I mean to say is, given enough interest among the students, some innovations in Crystal Prep are not out of the question. Inspire people to strive for excellence and means will be provided.” Cinch looked at the boy who stared back at her. “You may go.”

Trenderhoof nodded and left.

Cinch thought back to the worrisome revelation between the lines of Trenderhoof’s article. After speaking to Cadance she was certain that Canterlot High’s influence was rapidly spreading among her students. Whether it was due to mind-altering magic or just an alluring temptation of carefree school years, the source of all the trouble was the portal.

The principal was not going to let it undermine all the work she had put into Crystal Prep over the decades. Others would disagree with her, but she was long used to being the only one who knew what was best. No matter how malicious the act would look on the surface... If one approached the situation rationally, permanently shutting off the magical flow by destroying the portal would be nothing but a kindness.
> A Walk in the Park
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Winding Trail’s Forest Park was a favorite for momentary escapes from the roadside stench of exhaust fumes. It was not uncommon for people to travel halfway across the city to visit it.

Principal Cinch recently took to frequenting the park as well. Shortly after adding sweet pastries to her diet she’d realized that she would have to balance them out. These forty minute strolls gave her just that, as well as a good relaxing environment that was conducive to both clearing her head and focused thinking.

Cinch got out of her car near the park entrance. Thick, heavy clouds overhead reminded her to take her small black umbrella. After locking the car Cinch looked around for a moment and started walking.

Last monday, after classes were over, Cadenza had come to Cinch’s office wearing an uncharacteristic scowl. ”Principal Cinch,” the dean had said then, “you know that I seldom question your methods. I disagree with some of them, but I understand them. However, blackmailing Shining Armor by threatening to fire me behind my back is where I draw the line.”

The following talk had been short and relatively calm, but by the end of it Cadenza had remained displeased. In a display of almost uncharacteristic pettiness she had stopped aiding the principal with gauging the moods and concerns of the student body. It was not a part of the dean’s job, so Cinch was in no position to force her. She had to develop an alternate solution.

The one coming together in her head was not something Cinch appreciated having to do.

The evening had yet to get dark. All sorts of people walked around, many of them of high school age or close, probably trying to stretch out the last hours of the weekend.

The entrance drew near. The forest had two major ones, and today Cinch chose the botanical garden side. It was decidedly less popular among the youth than the amusement park-like area around the other entrance and that suited Cinch just fine. She could use the relaxing walk before having to engage with teenagers.

Cinch knew that some of her students had seen her in the park before. It would appear entirely natural, if she came across someone from Crystal Prep today, to exchange a few words. Certainly more natural, in a student’s eye, than their principal deliberately setting it up in order to fish for information.

None of them had ever known Cinch for subtlety.

Cinch passed the metal gate and the long defunct ticket booth. Perhaps they used to have entrance fees to this place, but that must’ve been before her time. She had definitely been taken here as a girl and she remembered the booth being just as abandoned back then. Why it hadn’t simply been removed was a mystery.

Despite the neglect, the botanical garden still retained an air of sophistication and elegance. The historic Joe Bringer Estate stood in the distance, with its white columns and chipped pale red paint, surrounded by weeping willows, blue spruces and various unidentifiable shrubs. In front of it was a pool that looked well-suited for quiet boat rides, were it only twenty times larger. It even had a small island with a lone willow tree growing on it but, sadly, not enough space for a gazebo of any kind.

Cinch circled the pond and walked towards a bridge over a small, gently flowing stream that sprouted from it. On the bridge she spotted several familiar people watching the water run.

It was two of her students, namely Sugarcoat and Royal Pin, and two girls Cinch recognized from the Friendship Games as CHS students. One of them, if her memory of her interdimensional journey was correct, must’ve been Rarity, though Cinch didn’t know the timid pink-haired girl’s name.

Not too long after Cinch had spotted the teenagers they noticed her too. Rarity and the unidentified girl quickly said something to Sugarcoat and Royal and scurried away around the pond. The latter pair continued to stand there, their elbows on the railing.

As Cinch approached, Royal Pin turned around to face her.

“Good evening, Principal.”

Sugarcoat grunted noncommittally.

These two students Cinch knew rather well.

Royal Pin seemed as if he’d been born a few centuries too late, and perhaps on the wrong continent entirely. Had a passion for history and literature, aspired to become an international diplomat, never failed to carry himself with dignity.

Sugarcoat hailed from a family of lawyers, and while she inherited all the seriousness that came with that, she was always unerringly straightforward and honest. She could definitely talk eye to eye with almost anyone and not flinch.

All in all, Cinch couldn’t have asked for a better pair of students for her first attempt. She could almost hear the horse version of Cadenza talk about “mingling with the subjects”.

“Were those girls from CHS?” Cinch asked. Sugarcoat curtly confirmed it. “They were quick to leave.”

Sugarcoat finally turned around to face Cinch. She crossed her arms. “You didn’t exactly leave the best impression on them during the games.”

Cinch made a point of raising her eyebrow very visibly. “What did they think I would do? They don’t attend Crystal Prep, so they can’t even think I would punish them for simply crossing my path, ridiculous as that belief would be either way.”

It was Sugarcoat’s turn to raise an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

“Unfortunately,“ Cinch sighed, “many freshmen at Crystal Prep take a while to stop thinking like children. Ideas like that are common.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.

Royal Pin spoke up. “If anything, they probably thought you would be displeased with us for associating with them. They didn’t wish to get us in trouble, as I took it.”

Cinch simply closed her eyes and shook her head. “Oh please. If I had any intention of punishing that, I would’ve done so right after the Friendship Games.”

“Well it’s not us that need to be told this, it’s them,” Sugarcoat said. “Although they can’t be blamed for assuming something like that, considering how you openly antagonized Canterlot High during the games.”

“Did I?” said Cinch, narrowing her eyes in thought. “Ah, you must mean my words during that… ‘welcoming party’, correct?”

Sugarcoat nodded.

“That speech did seem rather antagonistic, I must say”, Royal chimed in.

“That”—Cinch waved her hand—“was just to maintain the competitive spirit and motivation. I can’t expect my students to give the events their all if they like their rivals.”

“Ever heard of friendly competition?” asked Sugarcoat, crossing her arms. Royal Pin cast her a short glance.

Cinch furrowed her brow slightly. “The Friendship Games are not meant to be a friendly competition.”

“Could’ve fooled me, what with their name and all.”

“Miss Sugarcoat, the name means nothing. What’s important is what the games’ scores tell people about our school.” Cinch’s tone quickly evened out. “The name was Principal Celestia’s doing, by the way. I merely never bothered to protest it.” She locked her hands in front of her. “But be that as it may, you will all graduate before the next games, so it’s no concern of mine if you all become best friends now. The school rivalry won’t weaken for it.”

There was a brief pause as Cinch looked thoughtfully at the water behind the two teenagers. They didn’t have anything to say. Her gaze then returned to them.

“Moreover, should they give you any ideas for something you’d want to improve about Crystal Prep, don’t hesitate to relay those suggestions to Dean Cadance. I trust you not to ask for less homework or something similarly inane.” Cinch waved her hand. ”And spread this sentiment among your classmates, if you would.”

Royal Pin tapped his chin.

“Incidentally,” he said, “some students from Canterlot High are performing at the stage this evening. Sugarcoat and I were planning to see them. I know some of our classmates would be enthusiastic about an extended music program of some kind.”

“Ah yes, Principal Celestia was quite proud of the CHS music program. A good observation, Royal Pin. I’ll have the faculty consider whether we can implement something in that vein, provided we can confirm enough interest for it first.” Cinch put her hands behind her back and turned to look across the pond in the distance. “Well, don’t let me keep you from attending that performance.”





Cinch walked through a familiar clearing.

An old railroad ran atop a stretch of elevated ground along the far edge of the park, warehouses and other industrial structures behind it. Several bare flag poles stood in front, their purpose lost in time—Cinch had never seen any cloth waving on their tops, not even in her younger years.

Three thickly clothed figures emerged from the trees on other side. Visitors rarely came this deep into the forest, but it would have been nothing unusual had the three young girls not blocked her way forward.

“Can I help you?” Cinch said.

“As a matter of fact, yes you can,” replied the middle girl. A cloud of unkempt orange hair floated behind her, in stark contrast to the overcast greens around them.

“Indeed?” said Cinch, crossing her arms.

“You are Abacus Cinch, the headmistress of Crystal Prep Academy, correct?” asked the girl. The other two just stood to her sides, one looking glum and the other angry.

“Correct. And who would you happen to be?”

“Oh, you should know of us by now, Abacus.” The girl’s decision to address Cinch by her first name took the woman by surprise—there was only one person who’d ever done that, and she hadn’t seen him in a long time. “My name is Adagio Dazzle.”

“Ah, so you three must be our latest applicants,” Cinch said, immediately recognizing the name. She had somehow forgotten to formally decline those three applications last monday, probably because she had absentmindedly shoved them into a drawer during Shining Armor’s brief distraction.

“What did you three hope to accomplish by confronting me in the middle of the woods? Rather unconventional.”

“Well, you see,” Adagio said, “it has been a whole week and we still haven’t gotten our acceptance—”

“The processing of your applications took a little longer than normal,” Cinch said, putting her hands behind her back. “These are busy days for our school.”

An expectant grin started forming on Adagio’s face.

“You shall receive your denial notifications next week,” Cinch finished with a slight smirk of her own, so slight in fact that only Cinch herself knew it was even there.

The girl was stunned. She opened and closed her mouth a few times like a dying fish. Several seconds passed before she regained the ability to speak.

“What?! Denial? But we’re practically overqualified for your school! Even Sonata!” Adagio cried, gesturing to the glum-looking girl who in response gave her a slightly hurt look and lowered her eyes to the ground.

“That may be the case, but rest assured that you have been denied,” replied Cinch sternly.

“But why then?” Adagio waved her arms. “We—”

“Ugh, Adagio, can you sink any lower?” the angry girl, probably Aria Blaze, said. ”Prostrating yourself before this crone? Where’s your siren pride?”

“We’re not sirens anymore, Aria,” stated the glum one—Sonata—in a lifeless voice completely unfitting a teenage girl.

Adagio spun around and gestured the other two to keep quiet.

“Sirens?” Cinch said, crossing her arms again and raising an eyebrow for good measure. “Have you grown tired of luring sailors to their doom, then?”

Adagio slapped her forehead with a surprising amount of force. “That cursed nonsense again,” she mumbled. “No, never mind that!”

“Adagio, your plan has clearly failed. You’re not gonna change her mind!” Aria said as she came up to the girl in the middle. “She knows about magic anyway, might as well try telling the truth.”

“Fine,” Adagio sighed, “whatever.” She looked back at Cinch. “We know you’ve seen magic at work recently, Abacus, during a competition between your school and another. What exactly happened we could not find out, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’ve lived here for far longer than you could imagine, because we are not human.” The girl looked aside with a snarl. “Well, we used not to be human.”

“Fascinating, but why do you think I should care?” Cinch said. “I’m more than ready to put all that magical nonsense behind me.”

“Well, for one thing, we’ve picked up a lot of knowledge over the years. We would most certainly encounter no trouble at your school.” Adagio smirked. ”Would you not want a few extra star students?”

“Frankly, accepting you in the middle of the school year would be more trouble than it’s worth, even if what you say were true,” Cinch replied. “Especially since it sounds like you don’t actually need the education.” Cinch had a few guesses as to why the ‘girls’ might have set their sights on Crystal Prep, but she waited for them to reveal their intentions before jumping to assumptions.

“But education is not the only boon your school provides, Abacus,” Adagio said with another grin. “Now that we are faced with all the... necessities that come with a life without our old powers, a lot of formalities come up. Since we’re qualified for it and then some, we want the status that comes with finishing YOUR school.” Adagio put her hands on her hips, gaining a look of new confidence that suited her surprisingly well despite the messy hair. ”It will be a mutually beneficial relationship.”

“I just want to go back to Equestria…” whispered the downcast Sonata. Cinch elected not to show a reaction to that, but the utterance did confirm a suspicion of hers—and gave birth to several new ones. Such as the highly questionable sincerity of Adagio’s reasoning. There was something more there.

“Well, I’m sure there are other schools that should be enough for you,” she said. “For one, Canterlot High has gained reputation lately.” That, and they seemed to have a much more lax policy for enrolling ex-magical creatures.

“That… wouldn’t work,“ Adagio said. “We have a bit of a history with that place.”

“And just how much do you know about CHS?” Cinch probed. These three could be worth the bother after all.

“We know that some of their students have discovered a source of magic,” said Adagio. Aria rolled her eyes.

“She already knows about that, Adagio.”

“Indeed I do. But I am obviously unfamiliar with the details,” Cinch said. “Am I right to assume you three possess a deeper knowledge of magic?”

“Even though we can’t use it anymore, we can still detect it. We can lead you to the source.” Adagio grinned expectantly at Cinch, clearly having sensed an opening.

Cinch allowed for a deliberate pause before replying, even though she came to her decision quickly. These ‘girls’ didn’t have to know of Cinch’s true intentions right away, and neither did she need to know of theirs, but they could prove to be very useful to her. Of course, the only way to make them cooperate would be to have leverage over them... for example, the ability to expel them from Crystal Prep.

“Well, girls, or whatever you three are… I shall arrange an interview for you.” If she were to accept them, it would have to be done through Cadenza—to avoid any perceived connection between the ‘sirens’ and Cinch herself. “You will be notified on when to arrive. And do try not to embarrass yourselves.”

Cinch tapped her chin for a second.

“By the way, I suppose you would know this… Exactly how long is a ‘moon’ in your world’s terms?”





The skies started to clear, allowing patches of sunset to shine through.

Having left the three hopefuls back in the clearing and walked through the rest of the woods undisturbed, Cinch neared the other exit. The area around it was decidedly more populated than the rest of the park, despite the time. The snack kiosks were closed already, as was the carousel and most of the other attractions, but that didn’t stop teenagers from congregating around the benches and gazebos. Most of them stood around the stage to the side.

On stage, a girl in a tacky outfit was doing a magic show with a lively cello accompaniment by another, more tastefully dressed girl. While it was nothing impressive, it seemed well-planned and competently performed.

In the crowd Cinch’s eyes spotted Rarity and the other girl from earlier, applauding excitedly at the appropriate moments. Royal Pin and Sugarcoat were with them as well, the former offering subdued applause of his own.

To the side, another group was packing a set of musical equipment into a van. Cinch recognized the blue-haired boy that had somehow baked a loaf of bread instead of a cake back at the Friendship Games. He was talking to one of Cinch’s own Shadowbolts, Lemon Zest, who seemed very animated. They must have been talking about music.

Cinch turned back to the stage. Suddenly she heard another one of her students address her.

“Principal?” Indigo Zap approached, her head cocked to the side. “Don’t tell me you came here to watch them too!”

“No, I have not,” Cinch answered, not bothering to look at the girl. “I was merely walking by, but the performance drew my attention.”

“No kidding.” Indigo stared at the magician on the stage. “These Canterlot guys have a lot going for them.”

In her mind, Cinch smirked. Indigo Zap was one of the most competitive students she had known, with a near insatiable drive to assert her superiority. Or at least the superiority of any group she counted herself a part of. If this was not the ember to be fanned into a blazing spirit of one-upmanship, nothing was.

“Yes,” Cinch said, “it does seem that CHS offers a lot of extracurricular activities.”

The two were joined by Lemon Zest who had left the Canterlot High group to their packing. “I kinda wish we had our own band,” she said.

Cinch glanced at the music enthusiast. “Royal Pin has expressed the same sentiment to me earlier.”

The girl looked at her wide-eyed. “Royal?” She grinned. “Ha! He probably wants an orchestra or something! Classical only!”

“He simply mentioned that a number of Crystal Prep students would be interested in a music program,” said Cinch, still facing the stage.

“Lemon here’s longed for something like that since forever,” said Indigo Zap. “I didn’t even think schools did this sort of thing.”

“Some schools do,” said Cinch.

“Principal Cinch!” Lemon Zest looked at the woman with pleading eyes befitting a small child about to ask for candy. “Our school’s supposed to be the best, isn’t it?”

“I should hope so, yes.”

“Then how come we don’t do music?”

“She’s got a point, Principal,” said Indigo Zap. “Canterlot does much more than classes. Why doesn’t Crystal Prep have any of these things?” She crossed her arms. “We could totally do better than them.”

Cinch sighed. “Do you want a simple answer?” She finally turned to Indigo. “School is about education. We have always concentrated on that.”

“Wait, it’s not like we mean cutting back on classes to do it,” said Indigo, her hands raised. “But don’t tell me we don’t have a couple spare rooms and the money for some equipment!” She put her hands on her hips and smirked confidently. “We’ve got the people, we just need the resources!”

“I shall give this matter some consideration,” said Cinch, turning once more to the stage.

“Me, I’d love a chemistry lab or something,” continued Indigo. “They never let us do anything good in class.”

Lemon Zest chuckled. “Gotta live up to your mad scientist look, eh, Zap?”

“Yep.” Indigo answered with her own chuckle. “These goggles are versatile, I’ll have you know.” She stared at the performing duo. “I bet they don’t let them do cool experiments and stuff in Canterlot.”

“I suppose I could arrange a proper way for students to submit suggestions such as these,” said Cinch after a moment of thought. “If there is sufficient demand, something can be done.”

Lemon Zest fist-pumped. “Sweet!” She turned around to leave, but stopped. “Hey Trendy! How long have you been standing here?”

“Just came by, Lemon,” Trenderhoof answered her. Cinch hadn’t heard him approach, and apparently neither had Lemon Zest.

“That’s Trenderhoof?!” a female voice Cinch knew but just couldn’t place shouted from somewhere nearby. Everyone looked for the source of the scream, but it was impossible to discern in the crowd.

Lemon Zest giggled while Indigo Zap shrugged and turned to Trenderhoof. “So, how does it feel to have inspired this whole shindig, Trend?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s pretty great,” Trenderhoof said after regaining his composure. ”I never thought they could just organize something like this so quickly.”

Cinch turned to face the boy. “What do you mean?”

Before Trenderhoof could answer, Indigo threw an arm around his shoulders.

“Well, from what we heard,” she said, “the Canterlot guys read his post as well, and were so inspired by all the butt-kissing that they decided to show off!” The boy grumbled at her. “Relax, Trend, I’m just kidding. But you were laying it on pretty thick.”

Ignoring her, Trenderhoof looked at Cinch. “Principal Cinch, I wanted to say that I decided to accept your proposition.” He waved his arm across the crowd of mingling students. “I had my doubts, but seeing this... This is the first time something I’ve written has had such an effect! And I see now that I can do more.” The boy looked around himself. “Just from seeing all this, it’s obvious there’s a lot to write about in Canterlot High.”

“Excellent,” said Cinch. “You can start when you want. There are no deadlines.”

“Thank you,” said Trenderhoof. “I already have a few ideas.”

Indigo Zap chuckled and smacked Trenderhoof’s back. “Don't let it get to your head, Trendy.”





The performance neared its end. Cinch looked around, unsure if there was any point to staying here any longer. She had gotten enough information already, there was no reason to linger in the park.

Cinch saw the stetson-wearing girl that had helped Twilight during the archery event talking to Jet Set and Upper Crust, two more of this year’s Shadowbolts. That was unusual: they belonged to the two richest families represented in Crystal Prep and were always picky with their associates. The CHS girl, however, looked like she'd grown up on a farm.

Trenderhoof had walked away and was conversing with none other than Twilight and the fiery-haired girl that had stopped Twilight’s magical rampage (and was apparently an equine in disguise). Cinch was surprised to see Shining Armor with them. He looked entirely out of place.

Perhaps he’d really gotten it into his head that Twilight needed to be looked after.

There were many more groups of people talking to each other all around her, the Canterlot High students and Crystal Preppers mixing together as though they didn’t belong to rival schools.

Unnatural as it was, the sight did not bother Principal Cinch. After all, she would put a stop to it very soon. Cinch simply had to finish what Twilight had unknowingly started during the games—with or without the help of her three newest recruits.
> The Lengths We Go to
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cinch wasn’t in a hurry to step out of her car. Her small umbrella would not be of much use against a rainstorm this fierce.

She found herself not far from the all-too-familiar statue. Or what was left of it. A pair of broken hooves protruded from the base with no body left to support.

The umbrella quickly proved no match for the downpour and stray droplets peppered Cinch. She shuddered but started walking nonetheless. At least the rain hid her from prying eyes—she had no intention of being spotted snooping around Canterlot High.

Since reading Trenderhoof’s original article, Cinch had wondered how she would shut the portal down.

The thought of taking a sledgehammer to it promised some much needed catharsis, but her strength would not be enough for a quick resolution. Who knows? If she damaged the portal without destroying it right away, perhaps someone on the other side would notice and try to stop her.

No, the measures needed to be swift and certain. Which brought her to personally visit the portal, but only to inspect it, not strike it with heavy tools.

Cinch’s boots sloshed in overflowing puddles as she approached. Apart from the rain, it looked just like she remembered it from her visit to the other dimension.

She went to the side facing the school and looked at it, leaning in. Nothing about its stone surface gave it away as a gateway to another world. The surface didn’t shimmer, ripple or swirl. Raindrops slid down to the base of the pedestal undisturbed.

For how disappointingly thick Sparkle had turned out to be, at least she didn’t keep the portal open at all times. Cinch cautiously extended her arm and touched the cold wet stone, half expecting her fingers to phase through. Instead she felt the solid surface that any regular person would’ve expected. She gave it a few taps, withdrew her hand and straightened up.

Sighing, Cinch changed the arm holding the umbrella and slowly moved around the pedestal. She searched it for any signs of damage.

Her plan was simple on the surface. With the statue broken this great stone block was just a ruin. All Cinch had to do was notify the appropriate authorities, perhaps push a few buttons and the offending structure would be up for demolition. Surely, some of the local residents found it unseemly and were just about to file their complaints!

The complications came with deeper analysis. The pedestal stood on the property of Canterlot High and Celestia would be consulted before any action could be taken. She could do a number of things to protect the gateway—put some other statue on top of it, for example—but that required a foundation that was intact or, at worst, repairable.

Unfortunately, despite the energy the statue had been subjected to from Twilight’s magical episode, the pedestal hadn’t suffered any major damage. Cinch hadn’t expected things to be easy, but she was still disappointed. Sighing deeply, wiped the rain from her glasses and returned to her car.

Now that she ruled out the simplest option, it was time to explore her second one.

It was a Saturday evening. If there were ever a time she could meet him, it would be now.





This torrential downpour forced Cinch to drive slowly. A part of her was grateful for any delay. Meeting this man always made her uncomfortable.

A peculiar sight distracted Cinch from those thoughts. Through the falling ocean she made out a figure, walking in the same direction Cinch was driving. This person lacked an umbrella or even a hood over their head. They trudged along the sidewalk, utterly drenched.

Driving by, Cinch looked in the side mirror and recognized the person. A young girl, a student of Canterlot High. Cinch didn’t know her name. She had competed in the archery event at the Friendship Games and accompanied Rarity in the park a few weeks ago.

She looked miserable, hunched over a backpack in her arms, her long hair hanging straight down. Cinch stopped the car. The girl passed by, giving it a wary look. Cinch opened the passenger door.

The girl’s reaction was predictable. As soon as she saw Cinch, her eyes opened wide, a barely audible gasp escaped her lips and her legs sprang of their own volition. She clumsily toppled onto the sidewalk, holding the backpack above herself.

Cinch could only sigh.

“Young lady, despite what your classmates may think, I do not bite.” Cinch turned to the backseat and pulled out a bunch of newspapers to place on the passenger seat. “Would you really rather catch a cold—” she looked over the girl, whose face was completely covered with wet hair “—and possibly drown, than interact with an adult that you deem insufficiently amicable?”

The girl struggled to her feet, but did not approach the open door. In fact, she made an effort to hide her face behind her own hair, all the while visibly quivering.

Cinch looked at her, leaning slightly towards the offered seat. After a few seconds of silence she raised her eyebrow. “Well?”

The girl looked around then let her head drop. “A-alright,” she said meekly. “Thank you.”

Cinch held a few extra newspapers against the back of the seat and waited until the girl shook off the rain, sat down and leaned into the sheets. The paper instantly began absorbing water. The girl shivered.

“I’ll turn up the heat,” Cinch said, “Where do you live?”

The girl gulped, not daring to look Cinch in the eyes. Staring instead at her boots, hands clutching the backpack, she mumbled her address.

“Not exactly where I was headed, but I am in no hurry.” That part was true—Cinch was actually glad for the slight detour. “What is your name?”

“Fluttershy,” the girl whispered, still not turning her head.

“So, miss Fluttershy,“ Cinch said, her eyes glued to the road, “just why were you walking in the rain?”

Fluttershy managed to tear her gaze off the floor and look forward. “I-I was working at the animal shelter down the street. I was helping B-Blazkowicz and must’ve lost track of—”

“Blazkowicz?”

“Oh, he’s a blue jay in our care. I found the poor guy one d-day, his wing was injured...”

Cinch responded with mild surprise. Expressed, of course, through a raised eyebrow.

“Do you take any animal off the street into your care?”

Fluttershy glanced at Cinch, somehow looking less intimidated by the principal.

“Yes, little critters are never scared of me… They let me help them, and feed them, and s-some even stay with me afterwards.”

“I was more questioning the point of doing it,” said Cinch.

Fluttershy turned her entire frame towards the woman.

“What do you m-mean the point? It’s a living b-being! A defenceless animal in need of help!” Her voice was louder than before, though that still didn’t amount to much. Cinch quickly looked at the girl before returning her eyes to the road.

“Admirable, I suppose.” Out of the side of her eye Cinch saw Fluttershy suppress a hesitant smile. “Sacrificing your time—even health—for another.”

“I c-can’t ignore someone I can help,” said Fluttershy with conviction.

“And does your generosity extend towards people as well?”

“O-of course!” Fluttershy looked down and quietly added, “Even though it’s much harder to help a person than an animal, I still try my best.”

Cinch glanced in her rearview mirror. "Miss Fluttershy, this may not occur to you as a Canterlot High student—especially not with CHS in its current state—but you would be wise to be more selective of whom you help."

"W-why?"

"People will see that offer of a helping hand," she turned to her passenger, "and help themselves to your whole arm without second thought."

"I-I'm sure it can't be that bad..."

"If you keep taking risks," Cinch said, "you will simply run out of arms."

“But,” Fluttershy stammered, “if everyone thought like that, nobody would ever help one another. That would be awful! Even animals help each other. S-sometimes.” She gently rubbed her backpack for some strange reason. “Is this… Is this what it’s like at Crystal P-Prep? Is everyone... for themselves out there?”

“Not exactly.” Cinch shook her head. “My school is an environment that reflects adult life and its challenges.” She leaned back into her seat a bit. “Better to get them used to it while there are no real consequences.”

Fluttershy furrowed her brow and sat quietly.

“Your school offers shortcuts, be it everyone’s unnatural willingness to help or simply magic”—Fluttershy gave her a look—”that gives you superhuman abilities. It’ll all go away when you’ve graduated.” Cinch paused. “Think of it this way. What would happen to an animal born and raised in a zoo if it gets released into the wild without any preparation?”

“...Most wouldn’t survive,” Fluttershy whispered.

“Precisely.”

The girl was silent for a few seconds, looking thoughtful.

“But... I don’t think the analogy is very good.”

Cinch turned to her passenger with a raised eyebrow.

“Well,” Fluttershy began to explain, “people have much more power to… um… influence th-the environment, I suppose? An animal can’t talk down a predator or a hunter, but if people really want the world to be better, they c-can make it better, at least for themselves and their friends.”

Principal Cinch rolled her eyes.

“So you aim to change society itself?” Before Fluttershy could protest, Cinch went on. “It won’t work like that, I assure you. Unless you magically convert the whole humanity, there will always be people who’ll gladly exploit the likes of you, no matter how strong your beliefs are.”

“But you are helping me right now, Principal Cinch!” Fluttershy waved at the torrent of water outside. “You didn’t have to stop for me, but you did. Even though I’m making your s-seat all wet and you have to be somewhere else.”

Cinch allowed herself a light snarl, which caused the timid girl to retreat back into her hair. “I’m not heartless. This doesn’t inconvenience me, and you don’t present a risk. If there was a full-grown man walking there, for example, I wouldn’t have picked him up.”

“W-well… I may not agree with you,” said Fluttershy hesitantly, “but thank you for helping me anyway.”

“You should listen to the advice I give you, miss Fluttershy. I aim to educate, after all.” Cinch turned to the girl once again. ”And learning to be discerning with your selflessness will save you much more health than a car ride during a rainstorm.”

“Th-thank you… I suppose,” said Fluttershy. No more words were exchanged for the rest of the ride.

They pulled up to a modest cottage and Fluttershy was let off. After closing the door, Cinch waited for the girl to enter her home before she pulled away from the curb, and the house disappeared into her rear view mirror.

She avoided inspecting her passenger seat. There was no doubt the water had soaked straight through the newspaper.





The rain had stopped but Cinch was no less hesitant to leave her car.

The car was parked in front of an unassuming house painted in whites and light blues. The man who lived here liked his money, and the shiny, colorful things it afforded him, but he liked staying under the radar more, so he chose the outward appearance of the most run-of-the-mill suburb dwelling imaginable.

Cinch finally gathered her willpower and approached the house. She rang the doorbell and tapped her foot, waiting for the response.

After a wait long enough that anyone who wasn’t Cinch would’ve given up, the door clicked open. There was no one to open it and greet the visitor. Cinch invited herself inside, making sure to shut the door behind her. It clicked once more.

She entered the living room. Excessively encrusted furniture glinted in the dim light of a fireplace and an open laptop on one of the tables. A rough and strained voice with a slight foreign accent greeted her.

“Cinchie, my girl!”

The man was sunk deeply into a large, puffy bright crimson chair across the room. Next to him, a similarly colored wheelchair.

“Haven’t seen you in ages!”

His coal-black hair greyed in uneven chunks. He wore a light grey sweater and dark grey pants; in fact, the only spots of color on his whole person were the multiple jeweled rings on his fingers. Even his once bright green eyes were now faded and dull.

“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me that, Lóbrego,” Cinch said as she sat down on a lounge chair across from him.

“Ah, but where is the passionate, righteous young lady that had once outwitted the big bad crime boss?” The man grew a mocking grin, showing off his pearly whites. They were fake.

“You know where she went,” Cinch said as she narrowed her eyes slightly. “You drove her out.”

Lóbrego’s smile widened for a moment then quickly vanished. He leaned forward in his chair.

“All that aside, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Abacus?” He couldn’t keep himself from grinning again. “I’m sure you don’t need any more of my sage advice. You’ve handled things pretty well for the past couple of decades.”

Cinch sighed, “I don’t need advice. What I need from you is a favor.”

The man raised a thick, bushy eyebrow.

“Oh? I thought you wanted nothing to do with my line of work, Abacus dear?”

“Indeed, coming to you was my last choice.” Cinch shifted on her chair. The seat was uncomfortable. “Do you know Canterlot High School?”

Lóbrego chuckled. “I’m not gonna blow up your rival school just because you didn’t win your stupid games for once.”

Cinch shook her head irritably.

“Amusing,” she said. “But I do appreciate you keeping up with the recent events involving my academy.”

Another chuckle escaped the man’s lips. “I’m always curious about how my star student runs the school she took over.”

“Of course. But no, my request is much simpler. There used to be a statue in front of the school. It was damaged recently, as you may know, and only the pedestal remains now.” Cinch hunched over, her arms resting on her knees. “I need that pedestal gone. Completely. Do it however you wish. Get one of your goons to blow it up, bypass Celestia’s say in the matter and have it demolished. I need that thing gone.”

Lóbrego looked over Cinch silently, as if waiting for her to continue. Then he sighed.

“You actually do want me to blow it up,” he said. “Incredible.”

“Not the school, don’t be ridiculous!” Cinch protested. “Just the rock in front of it!”

The old man shook his head. “And here I thought you’d realize how ridiculous the whole thing is, and we’d both have a laugh about it.”

“I fail to find the humor in it,” said Cinch. “Although it is not surprising that you would. It has always been a game to you, hasn’t it?”

“Cinchie, you sound—” the man coughed “—like a bitter ex.”

“That”—Cinch cringed—“is revolting!” She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You are entirely too gleeful about the influence you’ve had on my life.” Lóbrego grinned. “I only do not detest you because your advice has always been solid, despite your attitude.”

“Has it?” The old man raised his eyebrow. “You say that, yet here you are, asking me to help destroy school property.” Cinch glared at him. “You know, Abacus, everyone is different. I came to this country because it’s a treasure trove for people like me, never burdened by remorse. But you were not like that.”

“I am nothing like you, Lóbrego,” Cinch said through clenched teeth. “I never was and never will be.”

“You sure about that, Abacus?” The man tilted his head, the expression on his face unusually serious. “I’ve always told you my perspective, not facts. Yet you treated it like the latter.”

“Everything you said always turned out to be true.”

“It’s all in the perspective, Cinchie. You’ve adopted mine... and what, if not that, makes a person?” Lóbrego waved at Cinch. “You were always repulsed by my work, victimless as it is, and now you’re here asking what you’re asking.” A violent cough overtook the man. “Been a long time since I talked so much.”

Cinch righted herself and leaned back into the terrible chair. ”Can you do it or not?” She looked around, taking in all the ridiculous jewelry in the room. ”I assume your... trade has been going well enough for you to be capable of something like this, considering you’re still a free man.”

Lóbrego snarled. “How touching that you care about my well-being, Abacus.”

The man put one leg over the other—his slipper threatened to fall off—and began silently tapping his fingers on the armrest, stroking his chin with the other hand. Cinch knew that at times like this she had to wait for him to come to a decision. So she waited and waited some more.

Finally the tapping stopped.

“Well, you’re not wrong, I can do it.” Lóbrego’s lips slowly formed another toothy grin. “But before I agree to anything, you’ll need to tell me the reasons for wanting that thing gone so badly.”

Cinch tensed visibly. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business, Lóbrego.” She forced herself to maintain eye contact with the man as his expression darkened dramatically.

“Oh, but it is my business,” he said. ”You know I don’t involve myself in situations without knowing everything there is to know. Besides, I’m simply dying to learn what that chunk of stone has done to you.” His face flipped back to smirking once more. “You know, Cinchie, all that dirt you’ve had over my head isn’t worth anything anymore. Things change over a decade or two. You may have forced me to guide your pathetic, scared self in the big and menacing world before, but that was a lifetime ago. If I were to help you now, I’d be doing that out of the kindness of my own heart!”

Cinch sat stiff as a board, but she still couldn’t suppress a response from within the depths of her subconscious. “You have no heart, Sombra.”

The man roared with laughter.

“Ha! Funny… hearing it from you, my faithful student!” More guffaws escaped his mouth, followed by a lengthy coughing fit. “Is this something you say to old friends?”

Cinch stood up, “We’re done, Lóbrego.”

“I can see that, Abacus,” Sombra said. ”Been lovely catching up and seeing how much you’ve taken after me.” He waved his hand. ”See yourself out.”

He reached under the armrest of his chair and Cinch heard the front door emit another audible click.





As she drove home, Cinch contemplated how much of a failure the day had turned out to be. Unless she came up with some other idea, shutting the portal permanently seemed out of the question. She’d have to settle for the second best outcome.

The portal, according to Sparkle, opened on its own every ‘thirty moons’. Of course, that natural order had been ruined.

Perhaps in small doses the magic was harmless, dispersing quietly into the air. With the portal used more frequently, not to mention the continued presence of that alien girl, Sunset Shimmer, it was only a matter of time before the flow of the corrupting magic became unstoppable.

If Cinch could not destroy the portal, she could at least restore the status quo. And best of all, it was Sparkle herself that had given her the know-how.

As soon as Cinch returned to her apartment, she took out her laptop, opened it and pressed the power button.

The laptop hummed as Cinch struggled to remember how to initiate a video call. Apparently, her cheap computer was capable of such a thing thanks to a built-in camera. The sirens turned out to have a compatible device in their possession which made this mode of contact the most convenient.

Just when Cinch was about to decide she’d been doing something wrong, the call was answered.

“Good evening, Abacus,” a blurry Adagio Dazzle said from the monitor.

All of Cinch’s previous attempts to stop the sirens from calling her ‘Abacus’ had failed, but at least none of them ever thought to say ‘Cinchie’. She tried not to let it get to her, which was harder with Sombra fresh on her mind.

“Tell me, Adagio,” Cinch said, “how well have you three integrated into the student body so far?”

“Like a hot knife into butter!” said Sonata Dusk, moving into the frame behind Adagio’s massive hairdo.

“You’re using the idiom wrong,” Aria Blaze’s voice said, the siren absent from view, “and don’t lie to yourself. Nobody likes us.”

“Maybe not you,” Sonata said and stuck her tongue out. “Because you keep calling people idiots.”

“The word was ‘idiom’, idiot,” Aria answered.

“Can you two shut up?” Adagio pushed Sonata off-screen. “And yes, Abacus, Sonata is wrong. We aren’t quite fitting in yet.”

“If we still had our powers,” Aria grumbled, “this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Cinch raised her eyebrow. “I was under the impression that your powers included singing, hypnosis and draining magic,” she said, “not basic social skills.”

“We never needed any ‘social skills’!” said Aria, getting in the frame. “Like we’ve ever needed to fit in among you pathetic monkeys.”

Adagio gave her a glare and the perpetually annoyed siren shuffled away. “What she meant to say is that whenever we needed anything from a human, we would simply use hypnotic suggestion,” Adagio explained. “Even with the scraps of energy we got there was never a reason to socialize with others.”

“Then the task I have for you won’t be quite as easy,” said Cinch, tapping her fingers on the table. “But you’ll have to figure it out one way or another, and quick.”

“What do you need us to do?” said Adagio, cocking her head.

“I have it on good authority that Sunset Shimmer has in her possession a magical book,” said Cinch. “I need you three to retrieve it for me. Preferably without her knowing.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Adagio. “Their entire school hates us.”

“As you told me, Adagio, they had hated Shimmer too.” Cinch could see Adagio cringing. “And as you also told me, her offences had been more significant than yours.” The woman locked her hands. “Still, they were tricked into ignoring her crimes by the magic permeating their entire school. This magic only got stronger since then—” she smirked “—as you three witnessed firsthand.”

“I see where you’re going with this,” said Adagio. “Very well, I sense that this is not a request.”

“You are correct, Adagio,” Cinch said, leaning back. “It isn’t one.”

Adagio looked downwards, holding a finger to her lips.

“However,” Cinch continued, ”I understand that this could very well be asking for the impossible.” Adagio glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. ”I shall allow you more time to integrate yourselves into Crystal Prep. Accompanying my students during their meetings with Shimmer and her group would be the best approach. Try to get some of Crystal Prep on your side. Their word can now go a long way towards building trust.” Cinch massaged her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “And do try to be convincing. Even if you can’t deceive competently... at the very least lose the attitudes.”

“So you want us to make friends with Shimmer and then somehow steal her magical book. Great.” Adagio shook her head. “What does her book even do?”

“It is a key to her constant supply of magic,” Cinch said. “Magic she should not wield. Magic I know you cannot wield either—not anymore.” Adagio’s brow furrowed. “So bring that book to me, Adagio, or your time in Crystal Prep will be short-lived.”
> Sunstruck
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Principal Cinch had always scoffed at the superstitious. People trying to find causation and purpose where there is none. Seeing spiritual and metaphysical connections all around them.

Today she was able to relate to such people. Cinch was about to meet with the principal of Canterlot High, Celestia, and on this day, after months of overcast weather, the clouds had decided to part. Given Celestia’s horse counterpart’s connection to the sun, the coincidence was begging to be explained supernaturally.

Fortunately, her car was blessed with tinted glass, allowing her to enjoy only a fraction of what irritation the colorful buildings, glossy store windows and shiny cars reflected excitedly back at her.

Cinch would soon arrive at the cafe she’d become too familiar with.





From her window seat, Cinch saw Celestia coming. Of course Celestia had chosen to walk, and without sunglasses. She could probably stare straight into the sun and enjoy it. Cinch wondered if her eyes were actually solar panels.

Cinch put down her newspaper. Her thin slice of cake lay untouched. She had only bought it so she could bring in her tea-filled thermos—the cafe didn’t serve her favorite lemon and cinnamon.

“I appreciate you meeting with me, Principal Cinch,” Celestia said with a smile after sitting across the table. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be willing.”

“And rightly so,” replied Cinch, “but I do have a matter I wish to discuss with you, so there is at least some point to it.”

Cinch’s bluntness didn’t make Celestia’s smile falter — she was used to it. Cinch knew full well that the worst Celestia’d ever do was furrow her brow (and what was that against the master of the art?), so Cinch wouldn’t pull any punches around the younger woman.

“Oh? Let’s get that out of the way then, since my goals for our meeting are probably… less defined than yours,” Celestia replied with a twirl of her hand.

“That would be preferable,” said Cinch. “I have a proposition to make.”

“I’d be glad to hear it.”

Cinch touched her mouth with a napkin. “Crystal Prep is hosting a talent fair of sorts in the upcoming month. Naturally, if other top schools decide to participate, the event may attract recruiters, providing an actual benefit for the students.” Cinch sipped her tea. “As you might imagine, other schools have jumped on the opportunity, but Canterlot High, with your recent… successes, would be the main attraction—after Crystal Prep.”

Celestia tilted her head and tapped her chin in thought. “May I ask what brought this on, Principal Cinch?”

“You must realize already that the purpose of this event has mainly to do with our schools’ relationship,” Cinch said. Celestia nodded. “Needless to say, bottom-up change has been occurring… and I have to match it with top-down change for everything to remain stable.”

“Does it have to do with mister Trenderhoof’s publications?”

“Indeed it does.” Another sip. “That was the first step, really. I managed to redirect his desire to learn about your school into something productive. Of course, our students have been interacting quite heavily in this past month.”

Celestia smiled. “Yes they have, and a welcome change it is, wouldn’t you agree, Principal Cinch?”

“Time will tell.” Cinch locked her hands on the table. ”No matter what, the competitive spirit remains, but there is no outlet for it other than the games—games that only happen once every four years.”

Celestia slowly nodded. “And without such an outlet, it may weaken and go away.”

“Precisely. This talent fair would not be an official competition like the games are, but if handled correctly, it can be perceived as one by the students... with all the dedication it entails.” Cinch leaned back into the chair. “If this goes through, I plan to make it a regular event. Perhaps yearly. Spring is a rather good time for it, as well.”

Celestia hummed and mirrored the other woman’s pose. As she was thinking, Cinch started on her cake slice.

“It seems our schools’ rivalry is important to you, Principal Cinch,” Celestia said after a while. “I always thought it was merely a side effect.”

“It is crucial,” Cinch replied. “Competition is what drives improvement.”

“Our schools should have a better relationship.” Celestia smiled. “Isn’t this just unneeded animosity?”

“Don’t bother trying to convince me that competition is better friendly, Principal Celestia.” Cinch sighed and shook her head. ”I was unconvinced the first dozen times you suggested it, and I remain unconvinced now.”

Celestia shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” She took a bite out of her dessert. “As for participating in your fair, I don’t see any reasons not to agree. The benefits are obvious. I’ll discuss it with my sister before giving you a concrete answer. In fact, I’ll do it this evening.” Celestia’s lips formed another smile. “Many of my students will be eager to show off their talents. I hear they’ve been putting on shows already.”

Cinch refilled her cup from her thermos for the third time and took a sip. “Then we should discuss the details.” 





As the two principals wrapped up their discussion, Cinch spotted some familiar faces approaching outside and inwardly grinned. The sirens seemed to have infiltrated Sunset Shimmer’s friend circle already. They walked towards the cafe in the company of Shimmer herself, the stetson-wearing girl and one that Cinch could only guess was called Rainbow Dash.

As the group drew closer, Cinch stole a quick glance of all their faces. Surprisingly, Adagio had a content smile, Aria’s frown wasn’t as pronounced as usual, and Sonata looked downright ecstatic.

The stetson girl and Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, didn’t show any enthusiasm, and Shimmer’s own excitement looked forced. Cinch figured that Shimmer had taken the bait as eagerly as was expected from the one spreading the ‘magic of friendship’ and was trying to break the ice between her old and new friends.

Something about the scene felt distinctly off to Cinch, but she didn’t have the time to figure it out.

As the new arrivals approached the counter, she watched Celestia’s eyes widen. Cinch suppressed a smirk, not wanting to reveal that Celestia’s reaction was predicted. She could not stop herself from speaking up though, stoic face and all.

“Principal Celestia? You were saying?”

Celestia shook her head and stared at Cinch for a moment, then glanced several times between her and the unexpected group behind her. She didn’t say anything so Cinch spoke up again.

“I thought our students interacting wasn’t a surprising sight anymore.”

That finally prompted Celestia to respond.

“Principal Cinch, do you know who these three girls are?” At Cinch’s raised eyebrow, Celestia clarified, ”Not my students, the other three?”

“I only know that their background check is in order and their academics are quite remarkable,” said Cinch. “The only reason I even accepted them at such a time.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes an almost unperceivable amount, stared at Cinch for a few more seconds then sighed. “Nevermind.” She glanced back behind Cinch once more. “They seem to be getting along.”

“Indeed. So, Principal Celestia, back to the actual matter at hand…”

“Oh, right. Well, we pretty much have it all settled, I believe,” Celestia said before sighing again. “I think we should address the elephant in the room, Principal Cinch.”

Cinch raised her eyebrow. “And that would be?”

Celestia cast her eyes downward for a moment.

“I won’t dance around the issue. Considering the incident during the Friendship Games,”—Cinch rolled her eyes—“I am concerned that there might be unnecessary tension between us as principals. Or even as people. I realize you’re set on keeping it that way between the schools, but—”

“We both made mistakes.” Cinch put her locked hands under her chin.

“Both?”

Ah. Of course Celestia didn’t see anything she’d done as wrong. Cinch should’ve expected that. The woman was probably trying to get Cinch to apologize. Well, she wasn’t going to have her way.

“Obviously. I made a bad judgement with convincing Twilight Sparkle to release the magic she had collected.” Cinch lowered her hands to the table. ”And you allowed that magic to gather at your school in the first place.”

“Um…”

“As someone who was present for all the previous… incidents I’m told had taken place at your school,” Cinch fixed Celestia an accusing stare, “it was your responsibility to remove... unnatural influences on your students. Your mistake was exactly like mine in nature—misjudging the magical energy and its effects—but considering you’d been making it over an entire school year, and with more information available to you, I’m inclined to say you have much less of an excuse.”

“...Principal Cinch, when did you learn all this about our… situation, if I may ask?”

Cinch shrugged.

“A certain other dimensional traveler—one I’m sure you’re familiar with—was very eager to divulge information I hadn’t asked for when she met me.” Cinch opted to make it seem as though the source of her knowledge had been Sparkle and not the sirens. In reality, Sparkle had completely left out all of her CHS escapades during her list of accomplishments back on the train ride.

“Alright, though I had no idea you’d met her, I won’t ask any further,” Celestia said. “Clearly it isn’t my business. However, the way I run my school is my business, Principal Cinch. Twilight Sparkle—the pony one—and Sunset Shimmer, after her about face, have both brought so much good to my students. You’ve seen the results on the school as a whole. Hardly a mistake on my part, letting that happen.”

Cinch raised an eyebrow. “Principal Celestia, even before the games you had enough evidence that magic is dangerous. When your entire student body began to change, did it really not cross your mind that something was amiss? That magic was at fault?”

“That’s just friendship, Principal Cinch. Friendship isn’t magic.”

“I’ve been led to believe otherwise,” Cinch said, “by an alleged expert in both topics. The same one you seem to trust so much.”

Celestia looked at Cinch questioningly. “You mean Twilight?”

“Indeed. She and a few others were very adamant about it. In fact, I can safely say I know more about the topic than you do, Principal Celestia.” Cinch closed her eyes. “Even if I never sought such information in the first place.”

“I grow more and more curious as to what occurred between the two of you…”

Cinch shook her head. “You’ll have to ask her yourself, but back to my point.” She leaned forward from her seat. “Have you never really considered what harm your… artificially softened environment does to your students? What sort of attitudes are bred when they get used to it? Think back to the first event of the games, Principal Celestia.” Cinch’s face adopted a disdainful scowl. ”Your team lost, but what were they saying? ‘At least you tried.’ ‘It doesn’t matter that we achieved nothing.’ ‘We don’t want to hurt your feelings, so we’ll compliment you just for participating.’ Did any of them feel any repercussions for their failures? No, because everyone at your school is best friends with each other and criticism is prohibited!” Cinch caught herself before her rising voice became too loud in the ambient chatter around them. “My students are individualistic, competitive even among themselves, yet capable of cooperation when needed. Your students are so used to their ‘friends’ catching them, they will happily keep tripping and falling even when most of them won’t have anyone to catch them.”

To her credit, Celestia looked thoughtful, not dumbfounded like Sparkle would’ve been after one of Cinch’s more passionate arguments.

“I may not know as much about magic, and I may not have tried hard enough to encourage Sunset to get it under control…” Celestia looked up in recollection. “Luna tried to do that before the games, but it was obviously too short of a notice.” She returned her gaze to the older woman. “Anyway, I may have made my share of mistakes concerning magic, Principal Cinch, but it has since saved our school from disasters, counting three times by now.” Celestia glanced behind Cinch again, probably at the sirens. “And I don’t think a friendly atmosphere in school is as bad as you make it out to be. Life always has situations when one can use a friend’s help. I trust my students not to rely on it too much, but making friends will only help them in the future.”

Cinch just furrowed her brow. Each time the two women had a discussion like this (which wasn’t very often), Cinch tended to forget that Celestia was beyond reason. Her persistence did a good job reminding Cinch of that—each and every time.

Perhaps it was due to Celestia’s prolonged exposure to small doses of magic? She was unnatural.

If so, all the more motivation to close the portal forever, or at least to remove the book connection. According to her calculations based on the ‘thirty moons’ period and the date of the CHS Fall Formal, accomplishing the latter would give Cinch more than a year to find a way to do the former.

Heck, she could go to the pedestal every other night and whack it with a hammer, if she so desired—it would crumble long before its next scheduled opening.

Either way, it was time to wrap up this dialogue.

“I suppose we’ll just have to see how your students do after graduation, then,” Cinch said. “How gracious of you to risk their futures for such an experiment.”

It was Celestia’s turn to furrow her brow, but Cinch interrupted whatever thought she was about to express.

“As for your original concern, Principal Celestia, you can rest assured I’m not any more interested in holding grudges than I am in becoming friends. Run your school however you wish, and I will do the same.”





Celestia left after exchanging polite good-byes with Cinch. The latter stayed to finish her tea and the cake she’d barely touched during the meeting, figuring that she might as well try to listen in on the sirens and the CHS girls.

She could barely make out some words over the other people in the cafe, and before anything of interest could be gathered the girls were done with their food. Shimmer and the sirens stood up and made to walk away, but Rainbow Dash and the country girl stayed, with the former offering a half-hearted excuse, of which Cinch could only understand the words “me and AJ”, making her inwardly scowl at the grammar.

Representatives of Canterlot High indeed. Suddenly Cinch became mildly concerned that Canterlot wouldn’t send its most talented to the fair, just as it hadn’t picked its most qualified during the games. If Crystal Prep was the only school at the fair worth anything, the event would be an utter flop. Hopefully Celestia would have the sense to encourage her better students’ participation.

After a few minutes a particularly loud group of teenagers left the cafe and Cinch was able to hear the hushed conversation between Rainbow Dash and ‘AJ’.

“I dunno Rainbow, it don’t seem like they’re lying anymore.” Cinch was basing it solely on a hunch, but that voice might’ve belonged to the country girl. “Maybe Sunset’s really worked her magic on them?”

“I still can’t get over that it’s Sunset who befriends everyone now.” Now this voice Cinch recognized. “Wait, no, I don’t mean that I believe it. I mean, Sunset’s nice and friendly and all, but those are the sirens! Maybe they just learned to act?”

“Nah, sugarcube, I’m pretty sure you can’t just do that in a week like that.”

“So you really think they’re… good, now?”

“No idea. They definitely did warm up to Sunset mighty quick. Could be a trick, could be the truth.”

“And what do we do about it?”

“Meh. I say we do nothing. No harm in waiting and giving them a chance.”

“Not so sure about that. Remember what Fluttershy said?”

There was a pause in their exchange. Cinch sipped her tea.

“Well, we COULD just ask her right now, AJ.”

“I don’t like this idea…”

Cinch could hear a chair being moved, then two sets of footsteps approaching her. She didn’t acknowledge any of it, looking into her cup, but then a pair of light blue arms descended into her field of view. She raised her eyes to look at what was unmistakably the real version of Rainbow Dash the flying horse.

“We need answers,” said the girl. The other one, ‘AJ’, then came into view too, standing behind Rainbow Dash and looking outside.

“Ah, I see that you’re as impolite and tactless as your counterpart,” Cinch said with a light smirk.

That smirk only grew as Rainbow Dash’s eyes opened wide.

“Wait, what? Counterpart? Do you mean—” Cinch could practically see the gears turning in the girl’s head.

The other one’s attention was now on the principal as well.

“Do you mean… the pony counterpart?” she asked, tilting her hat-clad head. “But how… I mean, when, even?”

Cinch looked between the two dumbfounded girls and finally understood, smirking even wider.

“Why, do you mean they haven’t told you? Your princess friend decided to keep her meeting with me from you, then?” Cinch took a deliberate sip while the girls were standing there, gaping. “And Sunset Shimmer never thought to mention it either, I gather?”

Rainbow Dash looked down. “No, Sunset never…”

“Forgive me for my misunderstanding, miss Rainbow, but I was under the assumption that you were... friends.” Cinch locked her hands and wiped the smirk off her face, trying to look less mocking than she wanted to, deep down.

The country girl’s expression darkened. Rainbow didn’t seem as affected, though. “Nevermind that! The point is, are you making the Dazzlings spy on us or something?”

“The… Dazzlings?” Cinch quickly realized that it was another name for the sirens, but her initial moment of confusion worked in her favor. ‘AJ’ had been staring at Cinch intently, and the woman was sure she’d be caught pretending not to know them had Rainbow Dash used the word “sirens”. The moment was all she needed to prepare, though.

“Those three girls that left with Sunset! The sirens!” Rainbow Dash almost shouted, waving her arm in the direction of the exit.

“They are our newest students at Crystal Prep, accepted quite recently in fact. I’ve had no interactions with them so far, their interview was handled by Dean Cadance.”

The country girl scrutinized Cinch some more, then seemed to give up. Rainbow Dash glanced between the two and slumped her shoulders.

“Fine. Maybe they are for real.” She shrugged. “Let’s go, Applejack.”

With that, the two girls left the cafe. Principal Cinch refilled her cup. The thermos was nearly empty.





The rest of her time in the cafe was spent mulling over the best approach to the Cadenza issue. Cinch would most certainly need the dean’s assistance in setting up the talent fair, but Cadenza remained hung up on her grudge.

Just as Cinch prepared to leave, the cosmos decided to make up for the sun shenanigans.

Cadenza waltzed into the cafe, accompanied by Shining Armor.

Cinch’s understanding of an impartial universe barely held.

Both of them noticed her, but only Cadenza offered a “good afternoon”. They chose a table on the opposite end of the room and Shining Armor went to order.

Cinch pretended to read the newspaper and continued sipping her tea. The cake slice was long finished. It wasn’t long before the tea would run out as well, and then Cinch would lose her last excuse to remain in the building.

She needed to approach Cadenza and Shining Armor and apologize for her actions that had started it all. Cinch hadn’t had to do anything of the sort in quite a while—she was completely out of her element.

Then again, the same could’ve been said about having casual conversations with her students, and that went relatively well.

Cadenza and Armor spoke in hushed tones and very brief sentences. Cinch was probably ruining their little date with her very presence.

She figured they’d appreciate her leaving before them, so she decided not to stall and steeled herself. As soon as there was a lull in the couple’s conversation, Cinch stood up.

“Cadance. Shining Armor,” she said, approaching their table. “A moment of your time.”

“What do you want?” said Armor, a bit louder than he probably intended.

Cadenza, for her part, merely looked at Cinch inquisitively.

“I need to... apologize... to both of you.” Cinch wondered if her attempts to recall how one acts while apologizing would seem like uncharacteristic timidness. “Cadance, you probably realized right away that I had been bluffing, but it was... unprofessional of me.” Before she could judge Cadenza’s reaction, Cinch turned to face Shining Armor. “I could say that I wanted to nip your own threats in the bud, but I... understand that I had no reason to do so, let alone do so by pressuring you.”

Shining Armor tapped his finger on the table, his eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna need Cadance’s help with something, aren’t you?”

She really should have had the foresight to do this earlier.

“Cadance’s assistance is always appreciated,” she said dryly.

Cadenza cleared her throat. “I hear you’ve had no problems keeping in touch with the students, Principal Cinch.” Despite the outward politeness, her gaze was piercing. ”I’m not sure you need my help as much as you’ve thought.”

“On the contrary.” Judging by how easily the young woman’s glare turned to confusion, trying to appear angry was as alien for Cadenza as apologizing was for Cinch. “During my... trip after the Friendship Games, your counterpart had given me some pointers. Originally I dismissed them, but they’ve turned out well-suited for my situation.” Cinch attempted to smile. It didn’t come out very genuine. “You may have been helping me without knowing, Cadance.”

Cadenza quickly regained her composure. “So this is what it took for you to appreciate my efforts.”

“I’ve been... taking them for granted, yes,” said Cinch.

Armor grunted and crossed his arms. ”Maybe you shouldn’t threaten to fire someone who’s willing to do extra work to compensate for your own inadequacies.”

“Shining...” Cadenza said quietly.

The man looked away. “Hrm.”

“Just what were these... pointers, Principal Cinch?” The dean’s demeanor was noticeably less confrontational.

“Very simple, Cadance. She and her husband”—Cinch glanced at Armor and Cadenza’s eyes widened—”do just what I have been doing. I’ve tried to make the students more comfortable around me, I’ve asked them what they want... and I’m even organizing a talent fair.”

The word “husband” had a profound effect on Cadenza. The young woman’s cheeks lit up and her eyes began darting around the table.

Armor stared impassively—apparently, both his sweetheart and his sister had left him in the dark about the whole horse counterpart business. Or he simply didn’t catch on.

Eventually Cadenza gathered her wits. “Wait, a talent fair? This is the first time I’m hearing about this.”

“I have only settled the matter with Principal Celestia not twenty minutes ago,” Cinch said. “I shan’t require your assistance for a while.” She wondered if this delay would make the timing of her apology seem less suspicious.

“Okay... Well, since you actually came to apologize, Principal Cinch, I will... I will accept your apology if Shining does.” Cinch raised her eyebrow. “As you said, I knew you weren’t being serious. Shining is the one you wronged in this situation.” Cadenza turned to her date. “Dear?”

“If I’m deciding here—” Armor turned to Cinch “—you should apologize to Twilight.”

Cadenza cocked her head. “Do you really think Twilight needs that?”

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Armor protested. “Out of all of us, Twily’s been wronged the most. If anyone deserves an apology, it’s her!”

Cinch made another attempt at a smile. “Shining Armor, I think you underestimate your sister.”

“Huh?” Armor was equally confused by her words and her expression. “How, exactly?”

“Do you remember what you said last time?” Cinch said. “The impression I got was that Twilight had gotten over it by then. If I recall, she had asked you not to do anything rash, correct?”

Armor hesitated. “More or less, I guess.”

“It appears Twilight is an intelligent enough person to realize her own fault in what transpired at the Games.” Cinch smirked but quickly caught herself and tried to morph it into something more genuine-looking. “Perhaps you should listen to your sister.”

Judging by the looks on Armor and Cadenza’s faces, Cinch’s words were somewhat miscalculated.
> Of Unsound Mind and Body
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Each day Cinch could feel her strength wane. The two weeks after the meeting with Principal Celestia had been consumed by preparations for the talent fair. Cinch dove into her work with confidence, but the calls she had to make, the materials she had to review, the details she had to mind—all of it caught up to her for a realization: she had grown dependent on Cadenza’s charity.

The headaches had returned. As if the stress was not enough, the world remembered the inevitability of summer and assaulted Cinch with unbelievably diverse forms of unpleasantness.

Cinch didn’t have time to hound the sirens for a progress report. She’d seen them in the hallways. They would avert their eyes when their paths crossed. The talent fair—which she had long begun regretting—was, between the two tasks, the one with a time limit, and it required her constant attention.

Today things finally got bad enough. Cinch’s fever peaked. Her bones ached, her head throbbed and she couldn’t concentrate on anything. She sat in her office, struggling to function as a searing haze obscured her thoughts.

The door clicked, jolting Cinch awake as Cadenza walked in. Cinch was almost thankful for it. When they finished talking, the dean remained rooted to the spot, looking at Cinch from under her furrowed brow. Cinch realized that she didn’t know what they had just talked about. She wondered if she’d said something nonsensical.

“Is there anything else?” Cinch rasped.

Cadenza’s brow furrowed further, her lips pursed and her gaze turned to the floor, but she neither spoke nor left.

“What do you want, Cadance?” Cinch demanded, raising her voice. “If you don’t have anything else to say, please don’t waste my—” She exploded into a coughing fit. Cadenza watched her for a few seconds, humphed and walked out.

As the fit subsided, Cinch clutched her head. It felt ready to burst from the inside. She shut her eyes tightly and waited for the pain to dull.

Had Cadenza expected something? Another attempt at an apology followed by a humble request for help? Surely she was smarter than that.

Cinch could not tell how long she sat, hands around her skull, before she heard the door open once more.

“I called Shining Armor,” said Cadenza, “he’s driving you home.”





The ride passed in silence. Cinch was happy for a chance to close her eyes for more than a few seconds. They burned behind her eyelids.

After escorting the principal to her door, the grumbling alumnus left for Crystal Prep to lend Cadenza a hand with some of the affairs. Cinch did not have the energy to ponder his willingness or even protest. Having gotten a brief taste of rest in the car, she could barely think of anything else.

For the first time in her life Cinch was glad that empathy had won over reason in Cadenza’s mind.

She spent some time wrapped in blankets, unable to fall asleep. At some point she glanced at the clock to find that the school day had ended and decided to take advantage of her unplanned free time.

First Cinch recalled where her medicine cabinet had been, then how to open it, and finally procured a bottle with a few pills left in it. She could barely read the label—the letters would scatter when her eyes tried to focus on them—but something from the depths of her memory told her these were for fevers.





Cinch’s mind had cleared and her pains had subsided. She had some time (before the effects wore off) to retire to bed once more and hopefully fall asleep this time. But before that, she had something else to do.

She turned on her laptop and called the sirens.

The monitor showed a lazily sitting Aria.

“So, you finally went down, eh?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Yes... yes I did,” Cinch croaked and coughed several times.

“Darn, you don’t look too good. Why’d you call us?” Aria moved to the side to let Adagio pass by behind her. Something red glittered in Adagio’s hands. “We were just about to head out to meet with Sunset and the others.”

“Your dedication to the task is admirable,” said Cinch.

“Oh, right, that’s—” Aria was rudely shoved aside by a happy-looking Sonata who followed after Adagio, also holding a small red object.

“What are those two carrying?” asked Cinch. For whatever reason the red pieces seemed important.

Aria cocked her head. “Didn’t we tell you all that stuff at some point?”

Adagio leaned into the frame. “They are the pieces of our magic pendants. We went back to retrieve them after our... defeat.”

Sonata jumped into view as well. “Sunset said she wanted to see them, so we figured we might as well show them to her!”

Cinch raised her eyebrow. “What do they do, exactly?”

“They used to provide us with all of our power,” Adagio said in response. “They’re decidedly less useful when broken. The pieces can’t absorb and hold energy like the pendants could when they were whole. They do shine when magic passes through them, but that’s pretty much it.”

“So they’re your means of detecting magical energy, I assume?” Cinch guessed. In her head she was connecting the dots. Detecting strange energy, absorbing and storing it… These were very familiar functions. “Why did Sunset Shimmer want to see them?”

“To the first question: yep!” chirped Sonata, pulling Cinch back out of her thoughts. “And we talked with Sunny about magic and stuff last time.”

“Sunny?” Cinch was unsure what Sunny Flare could know about magic...

“Sunset. She’d wanted to study them or something,” Aria said, “but we managed to swipe them before she did. Which was surprising.”

“We didn’t even find all the pieces,“ Sonata added. “Not like we can just glue them together anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe not to you,” Aria muttered.

“Right,” Cinch said, ”as fascinating as this is, I didn’t call you three for idle conversation.”

Aria clenched her teeth as her eyes darted around something off-screen. She turned to it, squinted, leaning forward slowly and deliberately, then stood up and walked off without saying a word.

Sonata didn’t even try to pretend and simply fled the frame with haste.

Cinch sighed. The sirens were living proof that longevity did not beget maturity.

It fell to Adagio, as the responsible one, to stay and face the questioning. “Unfortunately, we haven’t made much progress,” she said. Her eyes flicked to the side for just a moment, but Cinch noticed.

“Indeed? You three seemed very friendly with Sunset Shimmer several weeks before,” Cinch said in a stern tone. “Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t achieved anything since? Despite being on such good terms with her?”

Adagio shifted uncomfortably. “Well, we don’t actually meet very often.”

“And yet when I call, I just happen to find you preparing to meet them.”

“Speaking of which, I need to go pack something, be right back!” And with that Adagio was gone like the other two, leaving Cinch staring at an empty wall.

With a moment to herself, Cinch thought back to her meeting with Celestia, to the sight of the sirens walking into the cafe with Shimmer and her cohorts. Everything clicked into place. The sirens’ content expressions had felt wrong because they were supposed to be terrible at acting.

No, they were definitely horrendous at acting—Cinch had just seen it for herself. This could only mean one thing. The sirens were genuinely becoming friends with Sunset Shimmer. Since they weren’t magical anymore, they must have been susceptible to external magical influences.

This was unfortunate.

Cinch’s own influence over the sirens would surely wane, even though she had made it perfectly clear that defiance would endanger their futures in this world. It could get worse. Sunset Shimmer could recruit them, or simply let them escape to the horse world…

Cinch had to lure the sirens back again. And soon.

“Adagio!” she barked into the laptop’s microphone.

After a few moments, Adagio appeared on screen again. “Yes?”

“You said fragments of your pendants were missing. Yet Sunset Shimmer hadn’t taken any.” Cinch tapped her fingers together. “How soon after your defeat did you retrieve them?”

Adagio stroked her chin. “The next evening.”

“I believe there may be a way for you to get your powers back.”

Adagio’s eyes widened, and both Sonata and Aria returned to the frame with similarly surprised expressions.

“I have a good guess as to who might have taken the missing pieces,” Cinch said, “and if I’m correct, she managed to make them work.” She paused, feeling unsure about disclosing this information. “Have you been acquainted with Twilight Sparkle? The human one.”

“Yeah! That was very confusing!” Sonata said. “But her big brother was kinda cute. Kept glaring at us, though.”

“She was investigating CHS ever since the first magical occurrence. By the time of the Friendship Games, she had managed to construct a device that detected, forcefully absorbed and stored magic. You can guess what she might have used.”

“Hm. Never mentioned anything of the sort to us,” Adagio said. “The others always insisted that the Games were a sore spot for her. We didn’t press it.” She looked down. “I wonder if she even told them...”

“Here is what you will do,” Cinch said. “First of all, don’t take all the pieces with you. Leave the biggest ones home. The biggest piece of each of your pendants, to be precise.”

Adagio nodded.

“When you meet with them, if Twilight is there, pretend you’ve heard about her magical device from the other students. Rumors and such.” Cinch pointed a finger at Adagio, who was standing on the other side of the screen with a thoughtful look. “When you hand Shimmer the pieces, breach this topic. Mention the fact that you haven’t found all of the pieces, mention having heard about Twilight’s device, pretend you figured out the connection yourselves—“

“Hey! We would’ve figured it out just fine if we knew about her thing!” Aria indignantly said.

Cinch ignored her. “Ask Twilight how she managed to make the pieces work. If you feel they suspect you of wanting your powers back, try to pretend you’re just curious.”

“They shouldn’t suspect that! They trust us!” Sonata exclaimed.

“I’m sure,” Cinch said. “But since you will be deceiving them, it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Sonata’s eyes fell.





With the sirens off on new orders, Cinch decided to sleep before the pills’ effects ran out.

However, she could not stop thinking about this new development. She was sidetracked renewing the sirens’ loyalty, but she could acquire a useful new tool if it turned out that the gem shards could indeed be made to absorb magic again. As always, running through all possibilities was not something she could avoid when left to herself.

After tossing and turning for half an hour, Abacus felt her headache creeping back. She groaned and threw off the plaid to get up. A feather fell from it and sailed to the floor. “This again,” Abacus sighed. She tossed it into the garbage bin.

Abacus glanced out the window. Surprisingly, bearable weather had finally returned. Dark purple clouds rushed across the sky and the few trees she could see bowed to the wind. This made her decision easy. Throwing on her coat and shoes, she went outside. For the first time in many years she would visit a pharmacy.

She stopped on the steps, about to join the endless stream of people sliding along the sidewalk. Abacus had no idea where the closest pharmacy was. For that matter, she couldn’t recall any of the stores around her house for some reason. Where’d she been buying her groceries, again?

Abacus preferred to search for a pharmacy against the wind. As soon as there was a space among the hurried bodies, she wedged herself into the crowd and matched its pace.

Something brushed against the back of her head. Cinch looked behind her but found nothing save for someone’s irritated face. She hurried to catch up to the person in front, not wanting to hold up the crowd.

Looking above their head, she noticed a large bird flying away. Must’ve touched her with the tail. At least it wasn’t the talons.

Soon enough she reached a crossroads. A predictably large blob of people had already gathered here, waiting until the blur of cars and trains in the city’s veins was halted by the red light.

Abacus spotted two familiar-looking heads of blue hair in the crowd. Shining Armor and… Bread? Was his name Bread? No, she didn’t know the boy’s name. That bread loaf was merely the only thing she remembered him by.

“There she went, setting Twilight up once again,” Armor said to the boy. “She knows that Twilight will be blamed when those three try something. But she doesn’t care.”

“Right?” the boy said. “Goes around thinking of everyone as children. Fat lotta maturity in her own behavior, though!” Armor snickered at the boy’s words. “Don’t know anyone as stubborn, honestly. Made up her mind immediately and stuck with it! Ain’t nothing gonna breach that thick skull now.”

The wind picked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shining Armor replied. “Unfortunate, really. Doesn’t practice what she preaches. Convinced herself that her initial understanding is infallible, despite the outlandish things she has to believe in order to keep it from falling apart.”

“Yep. Too bad about Twilight, though, bro. Wouldn’t wanna be her when she ends up accidentally helping the sirens!”

The pedestrian light finally turned green and the wave of flesh and cloth washed over the street. The two blue heads quickly vanished among the others. The crowd in front of the crossing must’ve been packed tighter than sardines—despite the steady stream of people emerging from it, the stationary mass was shrinking irritatingly slowly.

To Abacus’ dismay, the pedestrian light turned back to red just as she reached the road. She considered going anyway, but the loud shriek of an approaching train could already be heard from the left, so she stayed in place. Well, at least there wouldn’t be a whole crowd in front of her this time. She’d be the first to cross.

A bird’s screech rose over the grind of the train’s wheels. Abacus looked up. The large bird from before—a falcon—flew circles between the buildings, as if searching for something. How the wind hadn’t swept it away was a wonder.

Following the bird’s movements, her eyes landed on the building she’d been standing right next to. There was a pharmacy. “Everfree”. A rather strange name. Something about it seemed important, but Abacus opted not to dwell on it, lest she miss the green light again. She had to cross the street, after all.

A flock of colorful jays flew by, a blue one caught her eye. “Blazkowicz?” she mumbled. The flock of rainbow jays flew parallel to her, struggling against the wind, barely moving over the train still whizzing by.

Abacus envied them for being able to just fly over everything like that. The fact that the birds were having problems made her feel better.

The wind picked up once again.

The falcon emerged from between two buildings and tore into the flock of jays. It narrowly missed Blazkowicz, striking the jay behind him, the last in the rainbow line, the purple one. They both fell into the traffic, and seconds later the pedestrian lights turned green. Abacus could cross.

As soon as she was on the other side, the wind changed direction. She turned as if diving into it and slowly walked past the buildings, past the faceless people hurrying by, past the birds swarming above her head.

The wind got stronger and stronger, now slowing down her half of the sidewalk while pushing the other half forward, making people stumble. Abacus wished she’d taken her car.

She noticed a storefront that stood out. “Everfree”, looked like a pharmacy. Someone was trying to distract her with these important-seeming storefronts. It was still easy enough to ignore, especially since there was something much more worthy of her attention behind it: an alley, promising a brief respite from the storm.

Abacus turned into the alley and opted to walk through instead of just waiting. Perhaps on the other side she’d find what she was looking for.

A figure ejected itself from the stream of people on the other end, possibly with the same intent as Abacus. Upon further inspection the figure looked familiar, clad in all grey except for the jeweled rings on its fingers.

“Cinchie! Where’re you headed this—” Sombra coughed “—fine afternoon?”

“Lóbrego. So you can walk?” Abacus raised her eyebrow, stopping in front of the old man. “I thought you were wheelchair-bound.”

“No, I only have that wheelchair in my room to remind myself that there exist people more miserable than I,” Sombra said.

“I don’t have time for you, Lóbrego,” Abacus said as she furrowed her brow.

“On the contrary, I happen to know you’d just been thinking of me!” the old man said with a smirk. ”Quite recently in fact!”

“What do you—”

“I have to commend you on your whole plan, Cinchie. Ridding the world of this hidden contamination! What a thankless and noble undertaking!”

Abacus shrugged. “Who else would do it?”

“Indeed! Truly a mark of selflessness there.” Sombra grinned once again before coughing quietly. ”Sacrificing the pleasure of being loved by your peers, the satisfaction of having a clear conscience, all on the altar of the ever vague greater good!”

Abacus crossed her arms. “Haven’t you said this to me before? Word for word, in fact? I do not have time for this.”

“Why don’t you stop listening to me then?” the man turned serious. “You’ve wasted your best years eating up every word I’ve said. How about making your own judgement for once? Something not rooted in my lessons, but in your own observation and reasoning? Something yours from the ground-up? Or is your mind too rigid for that? Too used to the same framework?”

Abacus followed his advice and made a decision of her own. She walked past Sombra, who seemed determined to keep her in one place, talking her ears off with his tripe. Abacus needed to find that pharmacy.

“I’d even wager that you still use my old name for the school team!” the old man shouted after her from the depth of the alley as she emerged.

Not paying him any attention, Abacus cast a brief look around and did indeed spot a pharmacy across the street.  It was called “Everfree”.

“Fine…” Abacus muttered. She pierced both directions of the sidewalk’s perpetual movement and stood on the curb. To her fortune, the street wasn’t running at the moment, and there was a clear zebra crossing right in front of her, allowing her to weave through the still traffic, step between two train cars and reach the other side.





Abacus entered the store and felt immense relief at the absence of wind. While a refreshing breeze was always welcome, she was not fond of hurricanes.

Behind the counter stood a woman that strongly reminded Abacus of the man she’d just left behind in the alley. Grey skin, black hair with white patches, excessive jewelry. Although in the woman’s case it was golden hoop bracelets and earrings, as well as neck rings, which was decidedly more eccentric.

As soon as the woman saw Abacus approaching, she spoke up. “Greetings, how can I help you?” In another similarity to Sombra, she had an accent, and an even more pronounced one at that.

Abacus told her she needed something for her fever.

“We could ease the symptoms if you so wish, but eliminating the cause is much more efficient,” the woman said after a moment’s thought.

Abacus frowned. “What exactly do you mean? Whatever caused it is in the past, I just need to be able to work while it goes away.”

“It is never that simple, I’m afraid.” The woman shook her head. “You won’t escape the sickness until you look into yourself.”

“My health hasn’t been a concern for years, I’m simply overworked,” Abacus said crossing her arms.

“That could be the issue, but if your immune system is as strong as you claim, something must have weakened it severely.” The woman tapped her chin. “Do you have any allergies, perhaps?”

“Yes, I do, to animals. Dogs and cats, the like.” Abacus furrowed her brow in realization. “Ah. Must’ve been something that animal shelter girl had left in my car. I would’ve thought the rain’d washed anything of that sort off of her.” She shrugged. “I’ll have it cleaned.”

The woman shook her head. “It’s not the only thing that’s gotten past your defences, it seems.” She pointed her finger at Abacus’ forehead. “The walls you’ve erected in your mind have been breached. An inner battle is waged, just like with a virus, but this time losing might be advised.”

Abacus grasped her head, suddenly aware of the thumping. She heard the wind outside grow even more powerful.

“Just give me the medicine,” she said.

Sounds of things colliding with the shop’s windows mirrored the pulsing sensation in Abacus’ head. She turned back and looked outside. The storm had gotten so strong that people were blown around like paper bags. Garbage and debris was flung about. The birds above were completely at the wind’s mercy, getting the worst of it.

“And do you have a phone? I’d need to call a taxi if I want to get home now,” Abacus said turning back to the woman, who smiled in response.

“We can grant you a trip home,” she said, “but it comes as part of a package deal that also includes a brain, a heart and some courage. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, fine, I’ll take all of that!” Abacus shouted.

“I’ll call my lovely assistant,” the woman said, nodding, before she disappeared through a door behind her.

A phone went off, playing a strangely gentle fanfare instead of the usual grating sound. A young, familiar-looking girl emerged from the door. She raised a magic wand and waved it around. The phone played its tune once more. “Prepare yourself for our special deal! Witness, as the Great and Powerful—”





Cinch shot up from the couch. She shook her head, recalling the nonsense her feverish mind had just subjected her to. Was magic worming its way into her thoughts?

Cinch kept hearing the soft, artificial ring. Its persistence and unfamiliarity quickly got on her nerves. What did it want? She looked around for a possible source and found that it came from her laptop, still open on the table.

Cinch approached the computer and looked at the screen. She was getting a call from the sirens.

“How much time has passed?” she mumbled before accepting the call.

When the image appeared, Cinch saw Adagio look back at her with a dark expression. Behind her sat Sonata, hugging her legs, her head buried in her knees. Aria was nowhere to be seen.

“They don’t trust us,” Adagio said.

Cinch could only grunt, not fully awake yet. “Elaborate.”

“We asked about the pendants. Twilight Sparkle did use the pieces in her device.” Adagio leaned forward. “Then Aria got the bright idea to ask if they’d help restore the pendants. It seems she wanted the power back more than Sonata or I did.”

“And let me guess…”

“Yes.” Adagio shook her head. “Accusations flew. Sonata kept saying she only wanted to go back to Equestria, but I don’t think they paid her much attention at that point. Sunset said she’d write to Princess Twilight about us, too.” Adagio sighed. ”Long story short, we don’t talk to each other anymore and I’m not sure we can do what you needed us for, now.”

“On the contrary, Adagio,” Cinch said with a weak grin. “There’ll be a good opportunity for you girls to get that book in the near future. We know now that Shimmer does have it.” She touched her chin with a finger. “Now, the fact that Twilight did indeed use the shards proves that their functionality can be restored. To a point at least. Do you think that can be achieved by having them cut into whole shapes once again?”

Adagio’s looked thoughtful. “Yes, in fact. I think it might. They’ll be weaker due to smaller size, and the shape might affect some specifics…” She cocked her head to the side. ”But we don’t have any equipment to cut gems!”

Cinch grinned a bit wider.

“Luckily for you girls, it so happens I know a man who’s all about gems…”
> A Dozen Birds With Three Stones
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Crystal Talent Fair was finally here.

Principal Cinch wouldn’t be present for much of it, if all went well. She had instructed Cadenza on how to supervise the event. There was not much to it, really. The fair needed neither judging nor herding. The participants had familiarized themselves with the layout when they registered and chose their stalls.

Cinch watched the students file in, many of them unfamiliar with Crystal Prep’s eccentric take on the classic roanesque style. They raised their heads to stare at the sparkling spires of the building, felt the shards adorning the gates with open mouths. The campus grounds, too, bristled with shiny debris catching many an eye, though that was Sunny Flare’s doing. In her decorating fervor she had dug into the deepest basements, fished out discarded bits of “crystal” and tastefully spread them around. Suffice to say, the sight of the awe-struck teenagers gave Cinch a certain amount of satisfaction.

A scout from CMC chatted up the students, searching for who could best sell him their project. He had been the first to arrive. Cinch doubted anyone passionate enough about their project would want to be noticed for their marketing ability instead of the fruit of their labor, but interest from such a big company was a good sign.

Sunset Shimmer, as one of the brightest students of Canterlot High School, had been confirmed to participate. Twilight was her partner. Cinch didn’t know what they were going to do and she did not care. Still, she looked over the crowds once more, and quickly noticed Shimmer’s colorful hair, then Twilight’s next to her, and then, surprisingly, Shining Armor’s. He was definitely trying to spend time with his little sister.

Cinch watched them set up their stand. It was a mess of electronic cords, dials and displays. Clearly the smart girls had taken this event as more of a science fair than anything. Well, engineering was a talent, Cinch supposed.

The setup didn’t take long. When the contraption was finally put together, Cinch snuck a peek at the girls’ bags.

Both were empty, or at least lacked anything the size of a book. Which meant Shimmer had either left it at CHS or at home.

Cinch left the fair’s grounds and returned to her car. Once inside, she took out her phone to text the sirens.

'They don’t have it. Check the locker and her apartment.'

Adagio would be waiting somewhere near CHS. Sunset Shimmer could’ve left the book there—after the fair the Crystal Prep buses which had gone to each participating school would return the students, so she might have expected to be at CHS before going home.

Aria would be in Sunset’s neighborhood. They had been to her apartment before, so she remembered where it was.

Together, they could use their pendant shards to home in on the book, Adagio scanning the lockers and Aria the apartment. They both insisted that they could “find” a way in.

Sonata was at the fair, paired with Neon Lights, a Shadowbolt. They had some type of on-the-fly sound correction project that she was to supply voice samples for. Even though she didn’t want to, she would have needed to abandon their stall had Shimmer brought the book with her. She’d distract Shimmer with something, which was one of Sonata’s few strong suits, and snatch the book out of her bag.

Afterwards, all three sirens would meet Cinch at her apartment. 

All Cinch had to do was find Cadenza and let her know she was off.





Sonata arrived first. Cinch immediately directed her to the couch and forbade her from touching anything. The siren sat down, crossed her legs on a pillow and started bouncing rhythmically with an uneasy expression.

Cinch turned her chair to the balcony, but the creaking got old fast.

“You may use the bathroom if you need to, miss Dusk,” sighed Cinch.

“Hmmm.” Sonata stopped. “Nah, no need! Thankies!” The bouncing continued.

Cinch's chair let out a long whine as she turned to level a glare at the girl. Sonata tore her eyes from the ceiling and stared back.

Creak-creak. Creak-creak.

Cinch raised an eyebrow, putting all her irritation into the action.

“So...” Sonata said, “What do we do with the book?”

Cinch put one leg over another. “We destroy it, and that’ll be that.”

Sonata’s eyes turned to the floor, her eyebrows knitted and bouncing halted. “Will you...” she mumbled, “Will you need us for anything after that?”

“Perhaps,” Cinch said. “I might require you to perform a spot of hands-on demolition, but that’ll come later, if at all. I’m aware that’s not a specialty of yours.”

Sonata tilted her head sideways. “Will the Rainbooms know?”

Cinch turned to the girl. ”Who?”

“Sunset Shimmer and her friends.”

“Provided you can be discreet about it, they won’t.”

Sonata resumed her bouncing.





Aria arrived next. “I’ve got it,” she announced.

Cinch stood up. “Excellent work. Now we wait for Adagio.” She took the bag out of Aria’s hands and gestured for her to join Sonata on the couch.

“Should we text her?” Sonata asked.

“Might as well,” Aria said, shrugging. “I hope she remembered to mute her phone.”

While they waited, Cinch decided to crack open the book. Knowing that it was a means of communication, she put on her reading glasses and flipped to the last entry.



Dear Princess Twilight,

I don’t know. We’ll try. I haven’t seen them since then, but there’s this big talent fair coming up that Crystal Prep is hosting, and we might catch them there. I’ll write to you when I come home from the fair, whether or not there’s any success.

~Sunset.



Although Cinch had an idea what this was about, she decided to read the previous entry anyway. There wasn’t anything better to do, after all.



Dear Sunset,

That’s unfortunate to hear. I had really hoped you’d befriend the sirens. But are you certain they’re colluding to take their magic back? Unless you forgot to mention it previously, they never touched the subject before you asked to see their pendants’ pieces.

I think you should try to talk to them again anyway. I realize it was a heated moment and you guys parted on bad terms, but it’s unfair to assume the worst. Please consider reaching out to them again and tell me how it goes.

~Twilight.



It was proof the sirens had been slipping out of her grasp. Had she known the others were so willing to forgive the sirens yet again, she would’ve made sure to keep the groups separate until the mission was complete. She had underestimated those CHS girls’ kindness… or their foolishness.

Luckily, the sirens had done the same, so there had been no contact between the two groups since that day.

Cinch put the book down and reached into her breast pocket, taking out three freshly cut red gems, now shaped into elongated diamonds. The sirens had told her that these operated based loosely on the wielder’s intent, which she just confirmed since the stones weren’t draining the book’s magic—they were just glowing in its presence.

According to the sirens, they were the only ones able to make full use of the pendants. Cinch, however, had always prided herself on having a well-controlled mind so she was certain the trinkets would obey her too. On a whim she had ordered them cut in the shape of her equine version’s hip picture. Who knew with this magic nonsense? Perhaps that could help somehow.

“By the way,” Cinch said, “I believe you’ll be glad to see these.”

Having gotten the two sirens’ attention, she presented the glowing stones in the palm of her hand.

“These have been cut, and the polish on them replicates their original surface.” She put the pendants back into her breast pocket.

“Hey!” Aria furrowed her brow. “Give’m here!”

“You’ll get them after the book is completely and irreversibly eradicated,” Cinch replied calmly. “As we’ve agreed.”

Aria crossed her arms. “Whatever.”





Waiting for somebody was always tedious. This is why Cinch preferred to associate only with punctual people.

There was no reply from Adagio yet, and no way to know if she’d received the message or was held up somewhere. They couldn’t call her and risk getting her found out if she was still at the school.

Wonderful.

Cinch remembered the excursion she’d had to Equestria. It seemed so long ago now. It occurred to her Sparkle might’ve written about that. A smile crept up her cheek. She had time to kill, so she reached for the book.



Dear Sunset Shimmer,

I apologize in advance, but I need somewhere to vent and I feel like you’ll understand me better than anypony right now.

Simply put, I completely failed in my duties today. Yes, it’s about Principal Cinch’s visit. I hope the other me isn’t too disappointed with… well, me. But I couldn’t get through to her at all.

You know, the thought that someone from a world without magic can see things completely differently just hadn’t occurred to me. I told Principal Cinch about things like defeating Nightmare Moon, Discord, Sombra — hoping to impress, you know? I hadn’t realized that it would be an argument for magic much more than an argument for friendship. The two are too closely connected in my mind, I guess.

I’m usually so good with pre-planning stuff! I was too confident that I could convince anypony I met, being the princess of friendship and all. Especially after managing to befriend Starlight.

I let the title get to my head.

I should’ve considered smaller instances where friendship accomplished things other than saving all of Equestria. That way it might’ve been more relatable to her.

The Crystal Heart too... If only I’d considered what a brief mention of its powers might sound like to an outsider.

I don’t know why I’m writing all this. The opportunity’s gone.

I hope the other me will understand. I feel like I’ve let her down. It was her idea after all.

Your friend, Twilight Sparkle



Dear Princess Twilight,

I hope you don’t mind that I call you Princess, otherwise it’s hard to separate you from the other you.

Anyway, don’t beat yourself up too much. Sure, I know Principal Cinch even worse than you, but her changing her mind was a long shot anyways. And it’s not just her that’s the problem.

You were right when you said that the magic of friendship exists in this world too, but the thing is, both magic AND friendship work differently over here. I’m not sure your Equestrian experience would’ve ever been a fit for Cinch. Besides, you are ONLY a princess of Equestria, right?

I don’t think you should feel bad about this until you become some sort of higher being and an interdimensional princess of friendship! Just kidding, but seriously, don’t beat yourself up. I don’t think anyone expected a miracle, and who knows, maybe you’ve given her food for thought. Although I wouldn’t be too optimistic.

I’m sure Twilight will understand.

Your friend, Sunset Shimmer.



Cinch felt no satisfaction at the apparent distress in the little pony princess’ writings. Well, distress was perhaps too strong a word, but the fact remained: Cinch couldn’t find it in herself to be pleased by what she’d left in her wake.

She wondered how the equine would present her arguments again if given the chance, but quickly rid herself of the thought. She needed to destroy the book as soon as possible: she could feel its magic in her head.

If only Adagio would return sooner. Without someone both cooperative and knowledgeable, Cinch was not about to tamper with magical energy... again.

She decided to read on. Just for idle curiosity’s sake.



Dear Princess Twilight,

I need some advice on friendship. The other you (let’s call her Twilight and you Princess since you didn’t object) seems to believe that we all only forgave her because we saw you in her, and wouldn’t have done so if she was some other random girl. She thinks we’re not really friends with her. I’m not sure how to convince her otherwise, and it seems to be eating her every time we meet.

I mean, I had similar doubts after getting my second chance. I thought the girls had only given it to me because you’d asked them to. It was slow and painful, but over time I realized it wasn’t the case. But I’m a tough girl, I could get through that. I don’t want Twilight to have to go through the same ordeal. No offence, but she seems vulnerable and insecure. And she’s gone through more than enough distress already.

Besides, this time we have an idea about the cause of her troubles, while I don’t think the others suspected anything with me. I was good at hiding it, I like to believe.

This seems a bit like cheating, asking you for advice on how to best help the other you. Is it cheating? I don’t know, all of this is so very weird. But I figure it doesn’t really matter, what matters is making Twilight feel better.

Your friend, Sunset Shimmer.



Dear Sunset,

It IS weird, isn’t it? I think that I’m used to the idea of the parallel world, but every time I think about it, I end up with a headache. To be honest, I gave up. This whole parallel dimensions thing is way, way above anything I’m prepared to deal with at the moment, or will be prepared to deal with in the foreseeable future. Equestria is enough of an enigma by itself!

But to the point, I wouldn’t consider it cheating, just a good opportunity. I can’t imagine being in the sort of place where the other me is right now, so I can only offer general advice.

Try to always be there for her. Show her that she’s wanted and that she can trust you. Make sure to do your best to distance her from myself and let her know that you think of her as her own person first and foremost.

Okay, that last bit was, admittedly, rather unique to this situation.

Anyway, if it still seems bad, you should probably talk to her about this upfront. In fact, talk to her about this when you next think it’s appropriate. If it’s truly eating her, she’ll be glad to let it out, even if at first she might pretend that nothing’s bothering her. Trust your instinct.

Your friend, Twilight Sparkle.

P.S. It’s getting weird signing off my letter like that. It felt right at first but surely we both know who’s writing… And we know that we’re friends.



Dear Princess Twilight,

We discussed it with Twilight. She denied it when we asked her, but I asked again in private and she spoke up… She was hesitant, though.

She confessed that your appearance, and the explanation of your history with us, had hit her hard. I felt bad for her. She’d finally found herself happy amongst people who liked her and then this revelation convinced her that it was a lie. I tried to convince her, and she really wants to believe me, but she can’t right now. Not immediately in any case. We’ll have to wait, and in the meantime be the best friends to her we can possibly be.

Thankfully, she likes me enough to hang out with me, so I think we’ll be able to work through it.

But there’s something else I wanted to tell you. You’ll never guess who we saw today among the crystal prep students (we sometimes hang out together too. It’s pretty nice).

Actually, go ahead, take a guess.

~Sunset.

P.S. You’re right, we should simplify the signatures. Not like anyone else will be reading this anyway.



Dear Sunset,

Why would you do this to me? There’s so many possibilities, I can’t even guess. Did you meet your human counterpart? Maybe someone you knew from Equestria? Maybe a third counterpart of one of us, from yet another parallel world?

I really don’t know. Just tell me, will you?

~Twilight.

P.S. Likely not, but I’ve considered publishing this in the distant future, just like I thought about doing with a journal we all keep here. For the future generations, you know? But I’d only think about it if we got some nice, unique and relevant lessons in here, not just friendly correspondence. And I’d ask for your consent before doing anything, of course.



Dear Princess Twilight,

Alright, alright, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Promise me that you’ll read this till the end before freaking out, and that you won’t rush over here in a panic to help us, alright?

It was the Dazzlings! They’ve apparently enrolled in Crystal Prep at some point after the Battle of the Bands. Small world, eh? But they were actually—



Before Cinch could reflect on how she wasn’t finding any hints of ill intent, brainwashing-themed conspiracy or magic abuse encouragements, she heard the sound of her doorbell. Aria got up and let Adagio in.

“Well, now that we’ve regrouped, I can proceed,” Cinch said after Adagio entered the room. “The easiest way to destroy a book is, of course, to burn it.” She picked up a lighter. “However, this is a magic book, so I think we should test on a smaller scale before setting all of it on fire.”

“Sounds reasonable,” said Adagio.

Cinch took the open book and tore out the page she had been reading before getting interrupted. “Let’s see,” she said before walking out onto the balcony and setting the page on fire.

A barely visible wisp of magic emerged from the flame and was promptly sucked into Cinch’s breast pocket. It worked. Cinch turned towards the sirens. “Ladies, we’re leaving.”





When Adagio asked, Cinch said that she would not be burning anything in her apartment. They discussed a good place to do it and settled on the empty lot behind the Winding Trail’s Forest Park. It was an area they all knew, far away from curious onlookers and not a fire hazard (like the forest itself, which Sonata had suggested at first).

While they discussed, the now slightly mutilated book received a message, one that Cinch hadn’t expected but definitely should have, in hindsight.

It was written by Sparkle and addressed to Shimmer, inquiring about why one of the former’s book’s pages had randomly turned into ashes. After not getting a reply, Sparkle wrote several more times and finally announced that she’d be coming over to check what had happened.

Cinch quickly realized that the princess, the other alien and their Canterlot High friends were going to search for the book one way or another. For that reason she’d have to forgo using her car (as it could be identified by some of the students, like Fluttershy) and take a bus, which the sirens complained about but ultimately agreed to.





On the bus the book buzzed again. Cinch reached into her bag and pretended to dig for a phone. The bag didn’t allow her to open the book wide enough to calm the enchantment. Irritated glances started flying her way.

Cinch wanted to smack herself in the face. If she ignored the buzzing, one of the short-fused passengers could make a scene, maybe even reach into her bag. To stop it she had to take the book out. Of all the idiotic situations...

Fortunately, the signal was rhythmical. Cinch grasped the book, put her thumbs between the freshly filled pages and waited for another buzz to end. As soon as it did, she tore the book out and snapped it open, drawing a tearing sound from the spine and quizzical looks from the people around her. Cinch decided to keep the book open for the remainder of the ride in case of more incoming correspondence.

She looked down at the haphazard cursive. It was addressed to the sirens and written by Sunset Shimmer, containing pleas not to destroy the book and give friendship a chance instead and similar balderdash. She’d figured out who had taken the book, at least. Something didn’t seem right about the messages, though.

Written by Sunset Shimmer. Written using the other book. The other book that had to be kept in Equestria at all times.

Sunset Shimmer had left to Equestria—probably with Sparkle, so that the former could write to the sirens.

This was fortunate. On top of cutting off the portal, she'd trap the aliens in their home world. Cinch allowed herself a slight grin. Everything would be made right again.
> Magic in the Air
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The unwelcome sun crept over the dusty, concrete yard sectioned off from the rest of the world with metal fences. Four people were there, more than the place had seen in years.

Cinch stood over a rusty steel barrel. She held Sunset Shimmer’s not-as-enchanted-anymore book in one hand and the sirens’ pendants in the other, transferring the magic from the former into the latter while the sirens gathered fuel for the fire. She had reasoned that if all of the magic was released at once as the book burned, the pendants might not be able to absorb all of it.

And she was right to be careful about the matter. Either the pendants weren’t very good anymore, or the book’s magic was too strong and deeply rooted, but the transfer process went by incredibly slowly. Cinch watched the ink comprising half of the messages inside—those received from the sister book—slowly vanish, letter by letter.

Squeezing the red gems in her palm, she could feel not only a warmth against her skin, but a peculiar electricity. It alarmed her only for a moment. The book shimmered and got lighter. Cinch opened her hand, but the book stayed there, obeying her will.

She wondered if Twilight had felt the same after her transformation. The realization of a new power over reality itself. Cinch drew the gems away from the book, as if pulling a string. She was sure the motion was pointless, but it helped her focus on draining the magic that much faster. She knew it was possible now that she had more control.

Was she in a particular hurry, though? No, come to think of it, she had all the time in the world. Cinch brought her hands close once more and slowed the flow down. Absorbing the magic too quickly could’ve been what drove Twilight over the edge.

Every now and again she felt like a part of her was on fire, and the magic was a pleasant, soothing balm. Whether it was just another mind trick or some kind of acclimatization process, Cinch didn’t care. She just endured.





Cinch sensed new magic slowly approaching from behind. Six concentrated shapes, one of them noticeably weaker than the others.

Aria, who had been lazily walking by to drop a wooden chip into the barrel, glanced in their direction. “Hey, the Rainbooms are here.”

Cinch ignored her, so Aria looked between the woman and the girls in the distance and simply shrugged before walking away to look for more flammable material.

As the magic vessels drew closer, Cinch silently raised the hand clasping the three pendants and threw the almost drained book into the barrel.

She heard a voice. “Principal Cinch?!” It was a familiar voice. Obnoxiously loud. Made her think of the color pink.

“What in tarnation are you doing?” said another.

“For that matter, what are the Dazzlings doing here?” A boyish, raspy voice.

Cinch squeezed the pendants again and made their range extend. The magic from the vessels began flowing through the gems, into her. Evidently, her mastery of the trinkets had grown quickly and considerably. It had been a good decision to practice on the book.

She heard various gasps and groans from behind her as the vessels were emptied.

Someone was still strong, though. “What are you doing, Cinch?” a young male voice boomed over the rest.

“Principal Cinch, please!”

That voice. It held a much deeper place in Cinch’s mind than the rest. Twilight.

Twilight, Sunset Shimmer’s newest friend.

Cinch turned around.

Seven pairs of eyes, wide in shock, greeted her. She recognized the so-called “Rainbooms”, or “those nice girls”, or simply the friends of Sunset Shimmer, all of them hunched over. Beside them stood Twilight and her brother.

“What the heck happened to you?” said Shining Armor. The look on his face, one he shared with the rest of them, was delightful.

His inquiry prompted Cinch to raise her eyebrow and examine her free hand. The skin was completely black. As she raised it closer to her eyes, a faint blue glow reflected in it.

Cinch lowered her arm and shrugged.

“Turns out my skin is overly sensitive to sunlight,” she said in a voice that was no longer entirely hers, now possessing a subtle undertone of a furnace’s roar.

Her mocking tone shook Shining Armor out of his stupor. Anger overtook his features.

“Whatever you’re about to do, I won’t let you!” With that, the protective brother rushed the perceived threat.

Cinch waved her arm at him. "Sit down, young man!" she boomed.

Chunks of concrete shot up around Shining Armor. The jagged pillars jutted out, trapping him. The girls gasped.

Cinch clenched and unclenched her fist several times and turned to the drained vessels. She slowly looked over them. “I’m wondering—how did you find us?”

Behind her, she heard the sirens’ steps.

“Woah, when’d this happen?” said Sonata. “You didn’t even float in the air or anything.” Everyone ignored her.

The first one to gather her strength was Rainbow Dash. She stood up.

“Princess Twilight came to CHS to look for Sunset Shimmer,” she said quietly. “We took her to that fair of yours.”

Rarity joined her friend.

“When we found out that the book was missing, Sunset and Princess Twilight hurried to the portal.”

Out of the corner of her eye Cinch noticed Sonata cross her arms at the mention of a portal.

“Before they left, we promised to help on our side,” said Twilight. “I used the shards that Sunset took from you three”—she looked at the sirens—”to put together another magic detector.”

It was Applejack’s turn to speak up. “Twilight here noticed that you and Sonata had disappeared from the fair at the same time. We sort of put two and two together.”

“Especially with what Fluttershy’d told us before,” said Rainbow. “About you driving from the direction of our school one night. And saying something about its ‘current state’ and 'magic' and all that.”

“And with what Sunset had told us about your visit to Equestria and the conclusions you’d drawn from it,” said Applejack. “After we’d confronted her about hiding that from us, I mean.”

Suddenly Pinkie Pie inserted herself into the explanation, speaking in a tone entirely inappropriate for the girls’ predicament. “And then we remembered that the page got burnt! And Rarity and Fluttershy recalled seeing you in this park, which seems like a good place to burn stuff, I guess! So we put more twos together, I didn’t have time to count the twos, sorry; but anyway, we put them all together and came here!”

“And when we say ‘we put it together’, we mostly mean ‘Twilight put it together’,” Rarity said, glancing at their newest friend. Twilight blushed.

”Yep!” exclaimed Pinkie. “And Twilight’s thingy is what helped us find you here!”

Cinch smirked, which made the girls recoil.

“Well, it would appear I’ve underestimated your intelligence. And—” she looked at Fluttershy, who whimpered under her gaze “—I’ve underestimated the threat.” Cinch straightened up. “But not by much.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Twilight.

“Well, Twilight”—Cinch took out her lighter—“now that all the magic is drained from you, I’m going to burn Sunset Shimmer’s book.” She gestured at the barrel. “After which the way to Equestria will close for more than a year, trapping our equine friends on their side and allowing me to drain the portal’s magic at my leisure, shutting it down forever.”

“What?!” cried several voices at once. The loudest one belonged to Sonata.

“No!” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut and collapsing on the concrete. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” Sonata repeated with waning strength as sobs started shaking her form.

Aria spoke up as well, “More importantly, all this magic’s ours to drain, don’t forget that!”

Twilight finally found her words. “Please don’t do that! Sunset is my...” She looked around at the other girls. “...Our friend!”

Shining Armor pounded on the stone surrounding him. “Cinch, don’t you dare!”

“Oh be quiet, kid,” scoffed Aria.

“Why are you doing this?” pleaded Fluttershy, having finally gathered her courage.

“It’s very simple. You’ll thank me later,” Cinch said. “You see, unlike any of you, I’ve actually been to this alternate world that the portal in front of your school leads to. I’ve experienced the so-called ‘magic’ firsthand.”

“Hey! We ARE from there!” Aria protested.

“And it is from that experience that I learned how dangerous magic is,” Cinch continued, still ignoring the siren. “In their world, they use magic to spread ‘friendship’. While they evidently don’t think twice about mind control, I can’t allow the same force to infect our world.” She put her arms behind her. “And make no mistake, it had already started to spread, even if none of you realized the true consequences.” Cinch shook her head. “For an outsider, however, it is beyond obvious. The sudden behavior change in the entire student body of CHS, the same thing spreading to my students, and even to me. I’ve been able to resist its influence, unlike all of you!”

As Twilight stared at Cinch, her eyes sparkling with wetness, Adagio stepped forward, keeping her cool despite the transformed woman’s sudden outburst.

“Actually, Abacus, there was never any magic in you. Or in any of the students in Crystal Prep,” she said. “Or, for that matter, in any of the students in Canterlot High, aside from these six”—she gestured to Twilight’s new friends—”and Sunset Shimmer, of course.”

“Yeah, we checked,” Aria said.

Cinch blanched. “What?!”

“It’s true,” said Twilight in a quiet voice. “My magic detectors never picked up any magic that wasn’t the portal or these girls.” She looked at her friends with a timid smile and whispered, “My friends.”

Cinch’s thoughts halted.

This could not be.

This went against everything she knew about magic.

Though... Had she really known anything about magic before absorbing some just now?

With the new knowledge granted to her by this act Cinch could not lie to herself anymore. She’d been doing it for months, but today marked the end of her self-delusion, the hasty assumptions that had driven her.

More and more things clicked in her head. “Friendship is magic”. It was true, but not in the way she had concluded after hearing about the Crystal Heart. Magic didn’t create friendship.

Friendship created magic. Just like Princess Twilight Sparkle had been telling her.

Cinch recalled those stories she’d been told during a train ride in the world of Equestria. Her entire problem with them had been that the equines used friendship just to generate magic, and not in any meaningful way. How did she forget those thoughts? How did she manage to block them out of her memory?

Cinch also recalled the last evening of the Friendship games. Her students rushing to help the Wondercolts save everyone who was about to fall into the gaping rift. New friendships were born just then, unbeknownst to either side, and that was what gave the five girls new magic to replace what Twilight had taken. The magic that Sunset Shimmer was able to use to save the entire world… and Twilight.

As everyone else watched her with bated breath, Cinch looked at the glowing pendants in her blackened hand, the stones bursting with magical energy. She thought back to the entries she had read in the book, the warmth that emanated from Shimmer and Sparkle’s words to each other.

That warmth made Abacus felt very nostalgic. More nostalgic than the aroma of lemon and cinnamon tea, or the rhythmic thumps of a train speeding by in the distance, or the sensation of wind against her face.

“I was never going to give you your pendants back,” Abacus said, turning her head to the sirens. “I was not about to let three magical creatures roam the world I’d have just cleared of magic. It was naive of you to expect me to do it.” Aria glared at her. Sonata also tried to. Adagio just looked at the ground. “I didn’t tell you, but they”—she gestured at Twilight and her friends—”were willing to give you three yet another chance. And they didn’t even know I had been using you from the start. They still want to be friends with the three of you.” She stared into the eyes of each siren for a moment. “But that is rather foolish of them, is it not?”

Abacus waited and watched.

Adagio, Aria and Sonata glanced between each other, the CHS girls and the principal.

Then Sonata stood up. Looking Adagio in the eye, she nodded towards the six other girls. Adagio pursed her lips, then looked at Aria. Aria shrugged.

One by one, the three sirens walked over to Twilight and her friends.

Abacus didn’t watch them reconciling. She slowly spun around, took the book out of the barrel and dusted it off before putting it on the concrete beside her. She looked over the empty lot, over the metal fence and the warehouse behind it.

Someone called her. Abacus turned back to face the nine girls, six of whom were looking at her with solemn expressions and shimmering with subtle magical colors—even Twilight, though hers was still weaker than the rest, not having fully blossomed yet after being gifted to her by Sunset Shimmer. The woman looked over the girls and nodded, and the girls nodded in response.

Abacus sighed, threw the three glowing pendants on the ground, took off her glasses, put her arms behind her back and closed her eyes. If the sirens’ accounts were true, things were about to get bright.
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Shimmer,

The situation has been resolved. This book is safe. You can return now. If you do not trust me, call Twilight Sparkle or any of your other friends. All of them are here.

Abacus Cinch.



Rainbow Dash pointed an accusatory finger at Cinch. “Hey, why are you writing in her book?”

“Because, miss Rainbow, this book contains private correspondence.” The woman closed the book and looked at the girl who stared back uncomprehendingly. “I don’t believe either miss Shimmer or miss Sparkle—the equestrian one, that is—have given any of you express permission to read it. I, however, have already violated their privacy earlier.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d rather we wrote in her book than you.” Rainbow Dash put her arms on her hips. “Besides, we don’t need to read from it to do that.”

Cinch rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She approached the girl and handed the book over to her. “I suppose if any of you writes something, it will remove any doubts miss Shimmer might have about the truthfulness of my message.”

“Exactly,” Rainbow Dash said as she opened the book and flipped to the last entry. “Um...” She looked at the rest of the girls, who talked to the sirens, and Shining Armor, who stood nearby, glancing between all of them and Cinch. “Any of you guys have a pen or something?”

“Sure!” exclaimed the pink one. What was her name again? “I have a bunch. What color do you want?”

“Uh, any color, Pinkie.”

“Righty-o!” said Pinkie before reaching into her hair and taking out a pen. It was orange. There were orange pens?

Cinch glared at the common sense-defying pink creature. Couldn't she be like any normal teenager and rebel against her parents or teachers, rather than the laws of physics?

Eventually she decided that her business here was concluded. The three freshly-made pendants were nothing but red dust on the wind, the book was back in the hands of Shimmer’s friends and Cinch’s skin was its normal color. She walked out of the abandoned lot.

Apparently, Shining Armor still had business with her. “Hey, wait!” he shouted and ran after her.

Cinch stopped and turned to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Armor said as he ran up to her.

“Crystal Prep, obviously,” Cinch replied. “Since I am no longer preoccupied with the book, I shall relieve Cadance of overseeing the Crystal Talent Fair.”

“Wait a second, alright? I’m coming with you.”

Cinch raised an eyebrow. “Whatever for?”

“I want to make sure Cadance knows of what you tried to do here.” Armor’s eyes were serious as ever. ”You need to tell her, and she needs to decide if she wants to keep working for you.”

Cinch sighed and closed her eyes. “Fair enough.”

Shining Armor gave her a look then ran back to the girls, probably to tell Twilight where he was going. After he got their attention, the conversation seemed to pause as the girls looked at one another. They laughed and headed for the exit where Cinch was waiting. Armor went ahead of them.

“Seems like they’re all coming with,” he said. ”They forgot they all have somewhere to be.”

“I was rather hoping not to share the bus with all of them,” Cinch admitted glumly. “But they do have either classes or the fair to return to, so it can’t be helped.”

The group exited the yard and made for the nearest bus stop. Cinch and Armor stayed in front.

“So what made you change your mind, anyway?” Armor inquired, glancing at Cinch who kept staring forward.

“A number of things, I suppose,” she replied after a few seconds of silence. “My assumptions about the nature and effects of magic had been wrong.”

“And just what were your assumptions?”

“I had reasons to believe that there was magic coming from the other side of the portal at CHS. Continuously.” Cinch glanced at Armor. His face did not betray surprise—he must’ve been up to date on the whole magic business. “And, more importantly, that said magic was affecting the minds of people there... in a destructive way.”

“Huh.” Armor rubbed his chin.  “And you wanted to stop that from happening?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, maybe Cadance will understand where you were coming from, at least.”





“And you didn’t even think to ask anyone?!” Cadenza shouted. “All of this nonsense could’ve been avoided if you talked to anyone with some experience with magic! Sunset, Princess Twilight, heck,”—Armor looked at her with wide eyes—”even any of their friends!”

“If my suspicions had been correct,” Cinch said, annoyed, “do you think any of them would’ve told me the truth?”

Cadenza crossed her arms. “Hmph.”

The Crystal Talent Fair was wrapping up. According to Cadenza, it had been a moderate success. Some of the displayed projects had caught the attention of the talent seekers. To Cinch’s mild surprise, not all of them belonged to Crystal Prep students.

Shining Armor had helped Twilight disassemble and pack her abandoned project before they left. Twilight seemed upset that she and Shimmer had been forced to leave the fair. Cinch considered feeling guilty, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Those two would have other opportunities, even in CHS.

As Cadenza and Cinch stood to the side, they were approached by Adagio.

“So, Abacus,” the siren asked, “what exactly happens to us now?”

Cadenza was brought out of her indignant pout by the strangeness of seeing someone on the first name basis with the principal.

“Nothing,” Cinch said. “I don’t believe I require any of your services anymore.”

“You aren’t going to expel us?”

Cinch raised her eyebrow and looked at the siren. “Why would I do that?”

Adagio shrugged. “Just making sure. Sonata was nervous.”

“Okay,” Cadenza finally spoke up, “Principal Cinch, just so you know, I’m not quitting, but I’ll need some time to process all of this.”

“You may leave,” Cinch said, “I shall handle everything today.”

“Alright, I appreciate it. Goodbye.” She turned to the siren. “Goodbye, Adagio.”

Adagio nodded then looked at Cinch. “You know, you could’ve asked us.” Cinch raised an eyebrow in response. “We wouldn’t have had a reason to cover for them. We used to ridicule the ponies’ ideals of friendship.”

Cinch didn’t answer for a few seconds. “And where do you stand now, Adagio?”

“I... I don’t know,” said the siren. “It’s difficult to adjust one’s worldview like this. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Indeed.” Cinch furrowed her brow.

“But, what I’ve found,” Adagio continued, “is that we can just treat it as trying another new hobby and see how it goes. We’ve had to find new ways to amuse ourselves throughout the decades.”

“I’d rather not know, I’m sure,” said Cinch. Adagio smirked.





“I’m pretty sure I know why you’re here, Abacus,” Lóbrego said, chewing on a piece of chicken.

Cinch kept her eyes off the messily eating man. “I would expect you to be. It’s been all over the news.” She glanced at a pan on the counter, thick with grease.

“And you, of course, want me to tell you what to do with him.”

“Yes.”

Lóbrego pointed the drumstick at her. “I think deep down you know what I’m going to say. You just want me to convince you, isn’t that right?”

“...Yes.”

“Well, I can’t refuse a young lady can I?” The man picked his teeth. “Let me spell it out for you. This could become a tough stain if you don’t clean it out right away.”

Cinch shook her head. “But he’s a friend. I can’t just do this to him.”

“Cinchie, you chose this responsibility. Is a single friendship worth the risk? It won’t look good if you keep a drunk-driving buffoon on staff!”

“He was coming home from a wedding...I don’t even want to think what this would do to him.”

“Nobody cares, Abacus. He’ll live without your friendship.” Lóbrego leaned back and put his arms behind his head. “Everyone will. And you? You’ll have to learn to make difficult choices. This one I can make for you. Make a statement and let him go.”



The names of her childhood friends were lost to Cinch, but looking up her former colleagues was easy. And that is why she ended up here, sitting opposite of Amethyst Maresbury in some coffee shop in Poshley Heights.

“So... how have you been, Amethyst?” asked Cinch, swirling her spoon. The woman across the table scrutinized her expression.



The doors burst open. “What do you think you’re doing, Abacus Cinch?”

“Calm down, Amethyst,” Cinch said as the woman slammed her hands on the desk. “He brought this upon himself.”

“I can’t believe you! He’s our friend! And you didn’t even talk to any of us first?”

Cinch’s shoulders sagged a little bit. “Amethyst, you have to understand, I have no choice when something like this happens. Friends or not, I can’t afford to sink Crystal Prep’s reputation.”

“You know what, Abacus?” Amethyst stood straight. “You are different from Sombra. But you’re no better than him.”

“I’m sorry you think so, Amethyst. Perhaps you’ll understand in the future.”



Amethyst Maresbury sighed, bags under her eyes and early wrinkles on her brow. “I’m not sure I can believe you, Abacus. People our age don’t magically change.”

“You’re right,” Cinch said. “I don’t regret any of my decisions. Given the chance, I would make them all again.” Amethyst gave her a weary look. “This does not mean I can’t be sorry for their consequences.”

Amethyst exhaled and cast down her eyes. “So you throw away everyone in your life, pretend that we don’t exist for thirty—” she shook her head  “—more than thirty years now! And you suddenly want to ‘reconnect’? What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Cinch said. Amethyst raised an eyebrow at that. “Yes, something did happen. It’s personal.”

Amethyst kept her eyebrow up for a second then looked away and grabbed her cup with both hands.  “Do you remember when Professor Neigh quit? I asked what was wrong because you looked upset and you told me you liked him.” A passing smile lit up her face. “And then I convinced you to write him a letter and we read his reply together.”

Cinch sat silently for several seconds. Her eyes danced around the table.

She gathered herself. “Amethyst, I... I would like us to have that again.”

Her former friend gave Cinch another long, uncertain look. Cinch met it stoically.



“Now, please, get ahold of yourself. I need everyone here able and focused,” Cinch said. “We will have to repair the damage.”

Amethyst looked at Cinch with worry written all over her features. Cinch averted her eyes. Amethyst sighed, turned around and slowly left.



“You know what?” Amethyst’s mouth shifted into a sad smile. “So would I.”

Cinch’s phone buzzed in her bag. She twitched but didn’t reach for it. Amethyst nodded.

“Just take it, Abacus.”

It turned out to be a text message, sent from Sombra’s number, which Cinch had forgotten about even having in the phone’s memory.

The message read as follows:

‘My boys tell me those red gems from the other day don’t belong to any of the known gemstone types in the world. I think you owe me some answers, Cinchie.’

Cinch groaned and put her head in her hands in resignation.