Four narrators. Four stories. One tragedy, what came before, and what came after.
This is a story about Fluttershy's birthday, the very special gift she receives, and the dark secret she learns not long afterwards.
It's also a story about Starlight Glimmer's long and painful recovery after a terrifying accident, and the emotional fallout that happened as a result.
It's also a story about Discord's visit to the Changeling Kingdom, and how drastically things have changed there - and how things have unfortunately stayed the same.
It's also a story about Thorax fighting for his life against an amalgamate of a twisted god and a dear friend.
And as all four stories join together, it becomes a different tale altogether - a tale of learning to accept things that come to pass, and the dangers of rejecting them.
*****************
I've tried something a bit unusual (for me) here. There are four protagonists, and the story is somewhat non-chronological. Chapters are listed as a number before a decimal place and a number after the decimal place (e.g. 2.6, 3.2, etc.); the number before the decimal place refers to who's the protagonist at that point in time, and the number after the decimal place refers to the "chapter" of their story. The stories seem separate at first, but will link together into a bigger picture at then end (which I haven't released, yet - stay tuned!)
Fluttershy opened her eyes. A faint breeze blew through her open window as sunlight tickled her right cheek, which wasn’t nearly enough to distract her from the bulbous yellow eyes that leered down at her.
Fluttershy blinked and yawned. “Good morning, Discord.”
“Good? Well, I’d certainly consider that a significant understatement. Today is a particularly monumental occasion out of the unending stream of monumental occasions that constitute sapient existence. It is the culmination of every single biological event in the history of existence, and arguably the pinnacle of the universe from which it sprung. And do you know why that might happen to be?”
Fluttershy smiled. “Because it’s your birthday?”
Discord blinked.
“Wh-no! It’s not my birthday! I dare say, Spirits of Chaos and Disharmony don’t even have birthdays, except when we do. Which is entirely a fabricated construct, properly speaking - and whether or not you construe that as a real birthday depends on whether you value the numerical passage of time over the celebratory trappings concerning such - wait a minute.” Discord’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”
“Well, um. I-it was a legitimate question, wasn’t it? I didn’t know if you had a birthday or not, um, being that, well…”
“Of course it’s a legitimate question. It’s also a fantastic workaround of the entire purpose of our little earlybird meeting, which is to say…” Discord reared back, brandishing a pink-and-yellow noisemaker at least two meters longer than Fluttershy herself. Taking a deep breath, Discord put the noisemaker to his lips.
Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Discord, don’t-”
Discord’s cheeks puffed out as he blew into the noisemaker.
Instead of a porcelain-shattering honk, the noisemaker emitted a music-box tinkle: a familiar tune, set in andante to the key of F, which plinked for precisely nineteen notes before lapsing into an expectant silence.
“Happy birthday…” Fluttershy filled in.
“...To you. Honestly, to think that you’d require me to actually coax an acknowledgement out of you that today is the date precisely eight months and twenty one days after your parents decided to conceive you! Most ponies are absolutely enamored with this particular time in their lives. What, perhaps, might be vexing you? Is it a question of age? Is it a dissatisfaction with cake?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “I just, um...I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it to you. I-I mean, I know that Pinkie really likes taking care of birthdays and, um, party planning, but...but I thought that it would be kind of rude to, you know, make a big deal out of it to everypony else.”
“A big deal? Why, of course not. It’s an absurdly, fantastically amazing deal! Which is why…”
Discord sat down at the foot of Fluttershy’s bed.
“...I thought we could spend a bit of time together before everypony else arrives.”
Fluttershy sat up. Discord snapped his fingers, caught a teacup and saucer as they popped up through a hole in the floor and offered them to her. As Fluttershy leaned over to take the tea, a lock of her mane fell in front of one of her eyes, tinting her field of vision in a paler shade of rose. Tossing her mane back with a shake of her head, Fluttershy sipped her tea.
“Silver Needle.” Fluttershy swallowed, a contented smile spreading over her face. “I’ve only had this once before. It’s supposed to be really rare.”
“Perhaps that’s because it is rare. I could have done impossibly rare, of course, but a little birdie told me that you weren’t likely to be fond of puce pumice tea or serendipitous bubblegum blend.” Discord turned his head towards the window. “Isn’t that right, captain Bluebeard Jason the Marauder, fifth of his name?”
A bluejay perched on the windowsill twittered, flapped his wings and took off.
“That means ‘yes’, Fluttershy.”
Fluttershy shook her head “Um. That sounded more like an epitaph to me.”
“What?”
“It was really naughty, too. I should probably have a talk with him.”
Discord stared incredulously at Fluttershy, who managed to hold her expression for all of two seconds before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Her shoulders shook as she laughed, and the teacup in her hoof trembled as the same lock of mane tumbled in front of her eyes.
“Well, look at you pranking the prankster! And here I had assumed that being kind to the Element of Kindness would be the greatest bout of archetypal judo today. Well done, Fluttershy.”
“Oh! It was just, um, just a spur of the moment thing. I wasn’t trying to make a point.”
“Your lack of a point should be the point. Satire is best left to the cynical and abrasive, but there’s nothing wrong with anypony laying a batch of bird eggs on a whim.”
“Wh-what?”
Discord smirked. “Having a lark.”
Fluttershy snorted, accidentally sloshing her teacup enough that half of the tea spilled over the saucer and onto her bedsheets.
Her thin bedsheets.
Scalding hot tea.
Fluttershy yelped, lost her grip and dropped the rest of the tea. Shock turned to pain as she screamed, scrabbling to get the sheets off her as she heard the snapping of fingers-
-and the soothing pastels of her bedroom turned into the lush greens of grass, the intense blue of the summer sky, the brilliant glare of sunlight.
Then gravity took hold, and Fluttershy fell into a large, freezing body of water.
The pegasus flailed, splashing about wildly as she pulled herself to the surface. The world around her spun as she sputtered and gasped, scalding tea swapped for a chilling lake. Her hoof reached up into thin air, and a familiar paw grabbed her hoof, tugging her out of the water. Fluttershy blinked, coughing as she heard a second snapping of fingers-
-and she tumbled onto a grassbank, mane clinging to her face, body thudding against the grass.
Fluttershy laid there for two seconds, not moving.
Then, with a soft moan, she tilted her head upward. Shoving her wet mane out of her eyes, she stared at Discord, who was either doing a reasonable job of looking apologetic or a fantastic job of feigning guilt.
“Well. That was unexpected,” Discord gulped. “Ah...I rather wouldn’t have recommended spilling the tea. Besides the risk of injury, it also does a remarkably good job of staining bedsheets and necessitating a change in laundry-”
“Discord.”
Discord fell silent. Fluttershy squeezed some of the water out of her mane, and unsteadily pushed herself up onto her hooves.
“Well.” Discord coughed. “That rather warrants a do-over, don’t you think?”
Fluttershy stopped mid-squeeze. “Um. You can do that?”
“No! Not literally speaking, anyway. Not that I hadn’t considered that it might not be out of the equation, but - it’s rather out of the equation. Much as i’m loath to admit it, there are certain things that the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony simply cannot do.” Discord flopped onto the ground, body growing carpet-thin and dribbling out in front of her. “You’ll keep my shocking dearth of true omnipotence on the down-low, won’t you?”
“Wouldn’t that be keeping a secret?” Fluttershy tucked her bangs behind her ear. “I mean, it’s not a very big one, but i still don’t think friends are supposed to do that.”
“Oh, nonsense! It’s not a secret! Just a discretionary speck of information.” Discord curled upright and raised his paw, chuckling. “There are some things that aren’t secrets, per se, but bothersome bits to discuss in public. The way you listen to the radio in the shower and sing along with the songs you know, for example.”
Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed. “Um, How did you-”
“The pop station, I might add. The ones with the songs about romantic entanglements and waggling hips-”
Fluttershy’s cheeks turned dark red. “I’m not sure anypony needs to know that-”
“Though I’m fairly certain you aren’t supposed to pitch your voice an octave higher when you get to the bridge about the dance floor in-”
“Discord!” Fluttershy sputtered, sitting down and burying her face with her forehooves.
Discord fell silent. Fluttershy breathed deeply and tried to think the least embarrassing thoughts possible.
“...Going over the names of Full Moons in your head again?” Discord said after a few seconds.
Discord exhaled. “That’s a relief. Well - now that I’ve gone and ruined an otherwise splendid day, how about if we try to un-ruin it?” Discord raised his paw, then paused. “Ah. Would you mind if i circumvented this whole ordeal of walking with a timely act of teleportation?”
Fluttershy blinked. Abruptly, she relaxed and smiled at Discord. “O-okay.”
Discord snapped his fingers. Abruptly, the grass and sky were supplanted with the floor and the ceiling of Fluttershy’s cottage, as if nature had never been there at all.
“Excellent.” Discord snapped his fingers again. “Now, as I’m absolutely certain you’re aware of, a birthday is utterly remiss without at least one present. And, since i can’t be certain that Twilight won’t gift you a semi-dusty tome of irrelevant blather, or Rainbow Dash some symbol of self-aggrandizement, or et cetera et cetera et cetera” Discord continued, “I’ve left it up to myself to-”
Discord trailed off. Fluttershy was still, inexplicably, smiling at him.
“...what?”
“Oh, um. I’m just really happy that you, well...asked for my permission.”
“To teleport?” Discord blinked. “Well, it’d be rather uncouth of me not to ask, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, it’s not the sort of thing you would have done a few months ago.”
“Of course it is.”
Fluttershy giggled. “You’re blushing!”
“I am not.”
“But, um-”
“This is heat exertion. It’s unnaturally warm in here. Clearly, your cottage is better insulated than it needs to be.”
Fluttershy’s smile widened. “If you say so.”
“You know what else I’ll say?” Discord sniffed. “I’ll say that you’re probably considering drying off, but before that - you should probably look for your present.”
Fluttershy blinked. “My, um. My present?”
“Yes, your present. You don’t think I’d let a birthday pass you by without deigning to give you some sort of gift, now, would I?”
“Well, um. Th-thank you, Discord.”
The two of them lapsed into silence.
Finally, Discord crossed his arms. “Well? Aren’t you going to look for it?”
“Look for it?”
Discord rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t feel rewarding to get the present if I just forked it over to you. So, yes: you’ll have to find it.”
“Well, um...where would it be? Anywhere in the cottage?”
“I should have known that you’d lack the sort of verve necessary to puzzle out these sorts of conundrums on your own. Fine.” Discord sighed. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s in the second-to-last place you’d normally look.”
Fluttershy paused, then looked around the living room. Everything seemed in place, save for a large white vase on the mantle-
“No,” Fluttershy mumbled. “That isn’t it.”
“Pardon?”
Fluttershy stared at the vase for two and a half moments. Abruptly, she gasped, beaming. “I think I get it!”
Discord quirked an eyebrow. “Do you, now?”
“Yes! The new vase would have been obvious, but then I thought it would have been *too* obvious. But that’s the point, isn’t it? Because normally, if you were looking for something, you wouldn’t pay attention to the obvious hiding spots. You’d search the unexpected and unassuming places, first, because you’d think that nopony would hide something in such an obvious place. So normally, the last place you end up looking is the first place you’d normally expect it to be, right?”
Discord smirked. “Go on…”
“So that means that if it’s the second-to-last place I’d normally look, it’d be the second place I’d normally expect. Which means that the vase would be the first place I’d normally expect, so it can’t be there.”
“And…?”
“...if I woke up in my bedroom...that’s where it would be, right? The second-most-likely place?”
Discord sniffed. “Congratulations. You’ve managed to posit an assumption that sounds more ludicrous than I look.”
Fluttershy’s ears drooped. “Oh…”
“Ha! I’m kidding,” Discord guffawed. “You’re spot on the money, Fluttershy. I dare say that you’ve learned to think like a true Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.”
Grinning, Fluttershy trotted into her bedroom. After a half-second pause, she looked under her bed and withdrew a small white box, wrapped in a delicate pink ribbon.
“Open it!” Discord chortled.
Fluttershy paused for significantly longer than a half-second. “Um…”
“I promise it’s not an automatic air horn again.”
“But what about-”
“Or a brand of Parliament-class self-lighting firecrackers, or a cuckoo clock from the distant kingdom of dilated time. Or a swarm of stinger-less and friendly wasps, though I’ll state yet again that you were in absolutely no danger-”
“I know.” Fluttershy undid the ribbon, opened the box and gasped.
Inside the present was a pendant, fastened with a silver chain. A large opal with almost uncountable flecks of color caught the light of the morning sun, causing it to dazzle with every conceivable hue. Within the beautiful gemstone was an intricate carving in white: a pony’s head, set in profile.
“It’s beautiful!”
“What, the rock? Hardly as beautiful as the figure inside of it.”
Fluttershy held the pendant up to her face.
“It’s me…”
“Of course it’s you. Do you think it would be personal at all if i gave you a bauble with somepony else’s face carved into it? Besides, I dare say that it’d be a far uglier trinket without you.”
“Discord, it’s…” Fluttershy trailed off, turning to look at him. “It’s…”
“A cameo. That’s the proper word for this sort of trifle. Taken from the purest vein of opal, honed by one of the finest gem crafters in the city of canals. The inset comes from his best friend Buoneighratti, who carved it from a bone from one of his brightest pupils. Donated posthumously, of course. That’s what you get for living in the city of canals and never bothering to learn how to swim, the poor sod. For the record.” Discord added, cutting Fluttershy off with the raise of one paw, “Not crafted with any sort of magic or chaotic chicanery, god’s honor.”
“But...but this must have cost a fortune. How did you afford this?”
“As it turns out, I make for the most…inspirational sort of model. Once La Bellezza Del Caos is released next month, I’m certain the world will agree that it was a fair trade.”
“I don’t know what to say…” Fluttershy trailed off.
“Well, ah. I suppose I haven’t given you much of a chance to get a word in edgewise, have I? Which is to say, one might think that I’ve almost deliberately been dithering about at this current moment, by acknowledging the fact that I’m rambling and preempting you from interjecting into this pseudo-monologue-”
“Discord…”
“-Which could stem from a variety of factors, one of them potentially, which is to say not necessarily, an unexpected and certainly unwelcome case of-”
“Discord.”
“-Nerves, Fluttershy. Nervousness. The very substance that you seem to be entirely constructed of when forced to enter any sort of unanticipated social situation, and no less than ninety-five percent of anticipated ones-”
“Discord.”
“-Which is understandable at this particular moment when all things considered you’re probably going to lose your temper with me and please tell me you liked your present Fluttershy I‘m begging you please tell me that you like it-”
Fluttershy set the cameo down on the floor and wordlessly took Discord’s claw in her hoof. The draconequus gasped, then fell silent.
“I love it, Discord.”
Discord’s claw trembled. “Ah. I mean, ah...Thank you, Fluttershy.”
“Discord, you know how there’s a saying that the value of a gift comes from the thought put into it?”
“Tripe. Nonsense. Belief in that sort of rubbish leads to giving away hand-me-down socks during the holidays, and I won’t abide by that drivel. Aaaaaaaand I suppose I’ve gone and missed the point of what you were about to say, haven’t I?”
Silence.
“I’m sorry, Fluttershy. I won’t interrupt. Please continue.”
“I know that you could have, well...conjured one up with chaos, but...but the fact that you thought about it so much, and...the fact that you spent…”
“Weeks. Weeks posing next to a slab of rock. In a slanderous pose. While being ogled by a bearded poof with a penchant for chattering about otherworldly muses.”
Silence.
“I’m not lying, Fluttershy. I promise.”
“I know you weren’t. But you planned this out, and worked for weeks, and talked with famous artists about making something that was like...like this.” Fluttershy smiled. “I don’t know of anypony who would have worked this hard on a present like this.”
Discord snorted. “Of course you do. Charity and her dresses, Pickle Fry and her veritable bandwagon of birthday enterprises-”
“-give their own presents their own way. But you gave your own present your own way, and you put at least as much time and effort into it as they did into their presents. And that’s part of why it’s one of the most beautiful birthday presents I’ve ever been given.”
Discord fell silent. For a few seconds, he neither moved, nor spoke. Abruptly, he squeezed Fluttershy’s hoof.
“I wasn’t expecting to learn a friendship lesson, you know.”
“It never hurts to learn something new, Discord.”
“That’s supposed to be the sort of lesson I’d teach you, isn’t it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“...You really think it’s beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“But solely for the thought put into it, right?”
“Especially for the thought put into it, Discord. But even if you hadn’t thought about it at all, it would still be a beautiful pendant.”
“Cameo.”
“Cameo. I’m sorry.”
Discord squeezed her hoof again. “Don’t be. I’m...incredibly relieved that you like it.”
“Thank you.”
“...Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you.”
“Well, um. If you think about it, I should be thanking you in the first place.”
“But if we had assumed a chronological chain of thanking events, then your current thank is misplaced, or else an expression of gratitude over my expression of gratitude in a remarkably silly manner.”
Fluttershy giggled. Discord turned to face her, and the two of them made eye contact.
Silence.
“Well.” Discord coughed. “This is beginning to grow uncomfortably sentimental, isn’t it?”
Wispy lights flickered in front of Starlight Glimmer’s eyes. She blinked, trying to pinpoint the source, but everything was fuzzy. They looked like candles. She could have sworn they looked like candles, but there were shapes in the way, dark shapes…
“Doctor, she’s waking up.”
“Dose her again. We don’t want her conscious during the surgery.”
“What if she’s overdosed?”
“That’s why anesthesiologists exist. Page one over if you don’t think you can get the correct amount.”
Starlight Glimmer blinked again, but the lights refused to come into focus. Voices babbled around her, unfamiliar and strange. She tried to talk, but her mouth refused to cooperate with her; her tongue felt like tissue paper, her teeth cardboard.
“Whose...Whose birthday is it?” Starlight tried again. “M-m-m-mine?”
“Syringes?”
“Red tray. Do you know how much to give her?”
“Yes, doctor. Administering…”
Starlight felt a prick in the crook of her foreleg. The lights bobbed lazily, then darkened; the shapes in front of her eyes dissolved and spread until everything was black.
“Ha-appy birthday to me…”
************************************
Starlight Glimmer opened her eyes.
There was only one light this time, a blinding and all-consuming white. The dark shapes were still there, but smaller, lurking at the periphery of her vision.
Starlight Glimmer opened her eyes. For a second, she wondered if her eyelids had been sewn shut. Panic welled up in her throat and her heart kicked into overdrive until she realized that she had opened her eyes, and that the shapes emerging in front of her were the outlines of objects in a dark room.
She waited for her eyes to adjust and her heart to slow down.
It wasn’t working.
Her heart didn’t want to slow down. As something unidentifiable and hard pressed into her back, from her skull to her hind hooves, Starlight Glimmer’s body refused to accept any of her conscious input at all. Her breathing stayed fast and shallow, sweat trickled down her neck and a dull thumping pulse continued to beat near her ears. Her brain grasped at disconnected sounds in an attempt to jumble them into words, and to attempt to jumble the words into sentences, and to jumble those sentences into a series of instructions on how to make her heart slow down and my breathing I can’t control my breathing what is wrong with me am I going to die.
Her brain wasn’t working properly. The words weren’t working properly, her heart wasn’t working properly, her nerves weren’t working properly, nothing-
Abruptly, her breathing slowed down. Her heart rate dropped two notches and set itself back into a normal tempo. The thumping went away. She didn’t have conscious control over any of this, and the idea that her problem had resolved itself without any of her input was as alarming as the idea that her problem had started without any of her input.
Starlight Glimmer felt perfectly fine, and also utterly afraid.
Part of her wanted to sleep. That part of her was the exhausted part, the part that had been relieved when her body finally stopped malfunctioning on her, the part of her that wanted to ignore that her brain wasn’t working properly and shut her eyes again.
The other part of Starlight Glimmer forced her to stay awake.
As she stayed awake, the shapes revealed themselves to her. Blocks connected to cylinders, little v-shaped joints linked squares to desk tables, cables threaded themselves between a nearly uncountable amount of nooks and crannies. The details continued to pick themselves out of the darkness, and eventually Starlight Glimmer could make out microscopes, monitors, a large rack of tiny vials.
She was in a hospital.
It took her a few more seconds to realize that the pressure on her back was actually a bed. A hospital bed. The hospital bed that she must have been lying down in.
She was a patient in a hospital, Starlight realized.
It was an odd sort of thing to take comfort in, Starlight recognized, but at least she knew why her body wasn’t working properly, why she had to decipher the shapes on her own, why her brain couldn’t articulate thoughts into sounds into speech into thoughts, ad infinatum.
Exhausted from piecing everything together, Starlight Glimmer passed out.
*****************************
Starlight Glimmer woke up.
A faint breeze blew through an open window as sunlight tickled her right cheek. The room around her was painted in warm green, not unlike a field of summertime clover. It was also filled with machinery that beeped and chirped and piped and buzzed like a horde of mechanical locusts, which ruined any calming effect that the paint job may have had.
In front of Starlight’s bed was a nurse, who appeared unfazed by this juxtaposition as she scribbled notes onto a clipboard.
Starlight cleared her throat.
This did a much better job of fazing the nurse, who looked up sharply enough that Starlight Glimmer winced, anticipating whiplash that never came.
A practiced smile bloomed onto the nurse’s pink face. “Good morning, Starlight Glimmer. How are you feeling?”
A cursory glance around the room revealed nothing else of particular notice. “I’m in a hospital, aren’t I? Just to make sure.”
“Golden Shield Central Hospital, Miss. Princess Celestia’s personal wing.”
“Canterlot?”
“Yes. Now, I understand that you probably have a lot of questions-”
Starlight tried to straighten up, and the world immediately threw itself out of focus. Gravity twisted in on itself as pain surged up to obliterate her skull. The beeping of the machines around her erupted into a full concerto, and Starlight’s eyes watered as she collapsed back onto the bed.
“Miss Glimmer!” The nurse stood up, hoof reaching for what was unmistakably a pager.
“Don’t.” Starlight gritted her teeth. “I don’t need a sedative. I get the message. Is there anything else I shouldn’t be doing?”
The nurse paused, swallowed audibly and slid her hoof away from the pager. “You understand that I’m supposed to follow procedure, Miss Glimmer?”
“Yeah. I was sort of wondering why you didn’t ignore me and page for help anyway.”
“I can still do that, if you need assistance-”
“I don’t. Really.” Sweat trickled down Starlight’s cheek. “...This must be one of those hospitals that has VIP treatment, or something.”
“It is Golden Shield Central Hospital, miss Glimmer. And like I said, this is Princess Celestia’s personal wing.”
“That...doesn’t mean anything to me. No offense. Honest.” Starlight fought off the urge to shake her head. “I’m not really part of the Canterlot area. I’m guessing that you mean “this is a really fancy hospital,” though. Right?”
The nurse nodded. “The best in the city, miss.”
“And I’m guessing that means that you can’t do things i tell you not to do.”
The nurse shook her head. “To some extent. But if you appear to be making decisions detrimental to your well-being, or if you don’t appear to be in the capacity to-”
“I get it. Look, I’m not interested in causing trouble. I’ve got…” Starlight paused. “...I’ve got enough questions that I don’t feel like counting them all up at the moment. But I know that you’ve probably got some sort of standard procedure script to read off to all of your patients. But I’d also like to believe that we’re both grown adults, so how about this: I won’t do anything stupid and get myself into trouble, and you do away with the script and engage me in some straight talk. Okay?”
The nurse hesitated.
“Honesty isn’t going to hurt my well-being, nurse. I know Twilight might have told you horror stories about how fragile my ego is, but I promise that it isn’t that fragile.”
“...I’m really not supposed to speak frankly to you.”
“But you’re not supposed to refuse the requests of the patients, are you?”
“You’re putting me in an uncomfortable position, miss Glimmer.”
“I’m not going to ask difficult questions, promise. I just want to make sure that I’m getting the unfiltered truth, okay?”
“O...kay. Sure. I’ll bite.” The nurse straightened up. “So what do you want to know?”
“Well, what’s your name?”
“Mine? Nurse Summer Poppy, miss.”
“Call me Starlight. Can I call you Summer, or would that be awkward?”
“I’m okay with it.” Summer Poppy smiled. “It’s a bit of a relief, really. We’re encouraged to ask patients to treat us casually, but some of them never refer to us as anything but ‘nurse’ or ‘doctor.’”
“You’re asked to do that so the patient will trust you, right?”
“Exactly.”
“So…Princess Celestia’s personal wing, huh? Is this her personal hospital bed, or something?”
“No. That’s just the name they use for this wing. The best wing in the best hospital in the city.”
“Very Important Patients?”
“Very Important Patients.”
“So who else is here? Is it just me?”
“No. Miss Fluttershy and Mister Soarin have also been admitted. They’re in separate rooms.”
“What happened?”
Summer Poppy shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”
“I thought I just-”
“Your friends wanted to explain it to you face-to-face. I was specifically told not to tell you.”
“Wonderful. So now I’ve got to convince Twilight to talk to me straight, and I get to worry about what happened to them.” Starlight paused. “So, uh. Speaking about that. You saw how I, like, tried to move more than my head, and how basically everything was utterly painful until i stopped trying?”
Summer nodded. “Please don’t do that again, by the way.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. What exactly happened to me?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Not the incident. Just the damage. Can you at least tell me about that?”
The nurse took a deep breath. “Severe abrasions all over everything from the neck down. Legs and ribs broken in multiple places, and fractured in virtually all the places that weren’t broken. Internal bleeding, but no severely ruptured internal organs, which is a miracle in and of itself. We had to sedate you for an extensive period of time while we performed major reconstructive surgery. It’s probably going to take you a while to recover, but your vitals are looking much better than expected, all things considered.”
“Anything to my heart?”
“No.”
“My spine?”
“No.” Summer frowned. “Why?”
Starlight sighed. “There was this...thing that happened last night. My heart started racing.”
Summer reached for a clipboard. “Any particular stimulus that might have caused it? Did you try to sit up?”
“No. I opened my eyes and tried to figure out where I was. It was completely dark, so i didn’t know exactly where, but I’m not scared of the dark in particular. Ask Twilight.”
“I believe you.” Summer grabbed a pencil in her mouth and scribbled down notes for roughly half a minute before dropping the pencil back on a nearby desk. “Your biochemistry’s trying to correct itself. We’ll have to change around your medication intake a bit and see if that helps.”
“So it isn’t my heart?”
“No.”
“And it isn’t my spine?”
“No.”
Starlight paused. “You know, uh. While my heart was racing, I tried to remember how to calm myself down, but I couldn’t think properly. Did something happen to my brain?”
“There’s no damage to your major neurological structure. Your arcanocerebral cortex suffered massive damage-”
“What?” Starlight’s eyes bulged as she fought back the urge to raise her hoof. “Oh, no. No no no no no. Did something happen to my horn?”
“I’m really sorry, Starlight-”
“Please tell me it’s okay. Please tell me things are going to be okay. Lie to me if you have to.”
“I won’t have to. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to take a while, is all.” Summer Poppy sighed. “It was really touch-and-go during surgery. Normally, a unicorn with magic at your caliber would be, uh…”
“The truth, this time.”
“...would be dead. Would have their brains liquified inside their skull. Whoever taught you how to rein in your magic reflexively and subconsciously did a commendable job. Like I said, though: touch and go. If everything goes perfectly from here on out, it shouldn’t take more than a couple of months for you to get some basic magical functions working again.”
Starlight exhaled. “So my horn…”
“Completely snapped off.”
Starlight Glimmer’s blood froze. “What?”
“A fair amount of your reconstructive surgery were attempts to reattach it to your skull and rewire it to your synaptic web. We believe we were mostly successful, but all we can do at the moment is wait for it to naturally heal. I’m really sorry, Starlight.” Summer Poppy smiled sadly at her. “If our optimal projections follow through, It should take a little over seven months for you to be at full magical capacity.”
“And...And under normal projections?”
“It’s quite likely you’ll never be able to use magic again. You might want to talk to your loved ones about that possibility, just in case.”
“Well, this is a lovely birthday present, isn’t it?”
Discord stood on the barren earth, hands held in the air, pendant hanging loosely around his neck. No less than a dozen changeling guards stood around him, crossbows pointing everywhere from his stomach to his skull, glaring.
Discord flashed the one in front of him a cheerless smile. It responded with a snarl and a narrowing of its teal eyes.
“I’ll admit that I’m somewhat surprised and unexpectedly disappointed,” the Draconequus pressed. “I had half-expected for a more jovial greeting, to say nothing of a more colorful one. Why have the lot of you returned to that homogenous black-and-green look? It’s certainly less tacky, but it outright screams “villain.” And let me tell you, if I find out that you’ve somehow allowed Queen Chrysalis to dominate the lot of you again, I will be sorely disappointed.”
Silence.
“Aren’t you going to deign to give me a simple response? I’m shocked, truly. There’s such an utter lack of couth displayed by the lot of you that, were I not a more evolved and intelligent creature, I might find myself annoyed by your utter dearth of decorum.”
Silence.
“Well, are you going to shoot me or not? Or are you waiting for some sort of backup-”
The air behind the changeling in front of him shimmered, before - with a small popping noise - Thorax materialized.
Discord’s smile lapsed into a far more genuine grin. “Ah! I see that you haven’t given up your multihued motley, old chum. Do you think you could do me the honor of telling your little accomplices to lower their weapons?”
Thorax gave a curt nod. “Guards.”
As one, the guards lowered their crossbows, briefly filling the air with chittering sighs. Discord relaxed, crossing his arms in front of him and arching an eyebrow at the changeling king.
“Charming welcome wagon you’ve rolled out, Your Highness.”
“Things have changed. Come with us, and don’t use any magic.”
“If I felt genuinely threatened, do you honestly think i wouldn’t be surrounded by a troupe of butterscotch frogs instead of this haphazard task force you’ve assembled?” Discord snorted, eliciting glares from several of the guards around him. “We’ll have to have a heart-to-heart about that, if you don’t mind-”
“Will you please just shut up and listen for ten seconds?”
Discord paused. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“We’re in serious danger of being attacked by something that could obliterate all of us in seconds. It’s attracted to magic. We’ve gone underground figuratively and literally to avoid attracting its attention, and your appearance may have just given us away. So please, come with us and don’t say anything, and as soon as I’m sure that we’ll be relatively safe then you can go back to telling jokes. Okay?”
Discord opened his mouth to say something; then, evidently thinking better of it, he closed his mouth and nodded. Wordlessly, Thorax turned around and walked.
The fourteen of them marched in silence. Occasionally, the crunch of an underhoof pebble or the whistle of a weak breeze broke the quiet, but an unspoken tension remained. The absence of noise grew profound, an entity in and of itself, and Discord felt the urge to say something - anything - if only to break the unsettling calm.
Abruptly, Thorax stopped, beating his hoof twice against the ground. “Password.”
The ground ahead of him shifted, then cracked. A slab of sandstone tilted into the earth; ahead of them lay a dark tunnel and a pungent, undefinable smell. Together they descended into the darkness, and it wasn’t until the last guard’s tail disappeared into the gloom when Thorax spoke again.
“One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven.”
Discord rolled his eyes. “Really? Those are your idea of passwords?”
“They work, don’t they?”
“Oh, but of course. I’m sure the string of numbers works wonders on the suitcase for some ample-bodied tourist fifteen minutes into his visit to Las Pegasus, too. And I guarantee it’d work wonders for an unpracticed rogue trying to break into said suitcase fifteen minutes afterwards. Quite the brilliant mind, you are.”
The sandstone creaked back into place, sealing them in shadow. A second later, Thorax’s horn flickered and sprang into light, revealing the roughly hewn earth around them.
Discord smirked. “Oh, so now we’re allowed to use magic?”
“The kind that doesn’t involve turning my guards into butterscotch frogs, yes. Or anything else. They’re just doing their jobs.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Majesty. I just thought I’d lighten up the mood.” Discord snapped his fingers, and a halo of light sprung up around him, bathing the tunnel in a warm glow. “See? I felt it essential, but assumed that a joke might be somewhat gauche. Not that these surroundings aren’t a joke, of course.”
Thorax stiffened. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Look at this. Skulking around in caverns, shutting off your magic, reducing your changeling guards down to this disactualized rabble. I thought that you’d gone and restored everything to harmony, happiness and a contrasting melange of pastels. I can’t say I was expecting this.”
“And I can’t say I was expecting you, either.” Thorax kept walking. “I suppose life’s full of disappointments that way.”
“Oh, har-dee-har-har. And here I was, assuming that I might be greeted as something resembling a friend during my visit. Did our glorious hours of working together to save Equestria mean nothing to you?”
“Things change.”
“Why?”
“Our lives are-”
“Besides that. Is there some particular reason why you’ve maintained this hostile posture towards me? Is it something I’ve done? Because I’m almost positive that this has crossed beyond familial concern and taken up residence in out-and-out antagonization, and there’s little I can do to rectify that unless you tell me what’s wrong. And please don’t try to sell me some sort of line about our relationship being irreconcilable. You aren’t like that.”
“...and why am I not like that, exactly?”
“Because, mon amie, that is the behavior of a petulant foal who thinks they are unassailable. That is the stance of those who make a position of superiority that only they can inhabit, and unreasonably expect all others to kneel in subservience to their greatness. That sort of casual disdain, That sort of unwarranted aggression, That sort of self-destructive stubbornness is a hallmark of those who know nothing of true suffering.”
Thorax stopped. Gingerly, he turned around; beneath the light of his horn, guilt dulled his eyes into weathered marbles. “Can we talk about this later, Discord? Please?”
Discord opened his mouth, paused and closed it again.
“...Fair enough. Once we get to...wherever it is we’re going, at the very least. Which is…”
“We don’t live in tunnels. Be patient.”
Wordlessly, they continued. Gradually, the tunnels grew wider, than wetter. Puddles pockmarked the stone, breaking the hollow procession with tiny splashes. Later, these were replaced by faint, warm breezes, not unlike the breathing of some gigantic creature.
Silence reigned the entire time.
When the end of the tunnel finally grew lighter, the relief that washed over the group was almost palpable. Discord was about to breathe a sigh of relief when his light flickered, then died.
Quirking an eyebrow, Discord snapped his fingers. Nothing.
A shiver ran up his spine as the end of the tunnel loomed into view. The realization that Thorax’s light hadn’t gone out was even less reassuring.
“We’re here,” Thorax stated as he drew to a halt, meters away from the jagged edge of what must have been a cliff. As Discord exited the tunnel to draw level with him, the Draconequus gaped.
If the caverns of Queen Chrysalis’s former lair had seemed huge before, they were positively gargantuan now. Whatever blend of physical enlargement and aesthetic emphasis the changelings had used was a resounding success, and Discord felt as if he had stepped into a quarry of unfathomable size and incomprehensible purpose.
Of course, that was without factoring in the ethereal green lights embedded intermittently in the cavern walls. Or the dangling, phosphorescent vines, descending from a ceiling that seemed miles away towards a floor that seemed miles below him. Or the flight of dozens upon dozens of changelings up and down and all around them, black carapaces supported by jagged jade wings, guided with jade eyes in seemingly purposeless directions.
Then there was a small popping noise in Discord’s ears, and the sound of the colony flooded over him. While not enough to make him double over, the droning was certainly loud enough to make him wince - an ugly mishmash of beating wings and unperfected sibilance, echoing indefinitely in the seemingly endless confines of the cave.
Something poked Discord in the side. Turning, Discord saw Thorax’s hoof, wordlessly extended towards him. As Discord took Thorax’s hoof, he saw for a split second that the dull weight of guilt had not entirely left Thorax’s eyes.
Then, beating his wings, the Changeling King took off into the air, dragging Discord behind him.
Blind panic pleaded at Discord to try and struggle free. Logic and reason - or whatever approximation the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony had for those things - told him that squirming would only earn him the freedom of an uninhibited free-fall to an excessively painful death. Gritting his teeth and swallowing his id and a mouthful of phlegm, Discord let himself be dragged up and away from his makeshift platform. Seconds later, his ascent was joined by Thorax’s guards, who took flight as one and filled the space around him with uncanny synchrony.
As they flew upward, Discord tried to figure out what changelings were flying where, and why. It took him under fifteen seconds to give up. The unanimity of their appearance aside, the changeling’s flights still seemed purposeless - into and out of holes in the massive cavern, without materials or signs of any labor at work. Hardly any of them exchanged sentences, or sounds that might have resembled words; none stopped to engage in conversation. A chill ran down Discord’s spine as the realization of how fundamentally alien the changelings were finally sunk in, and he spent the rest of the flight up biting his lip and trying to think of more pleasant things.
Finally, Thorax stopped, hovering over the lip of a ledge as it jutted out in front of another cave. The Changeling King set Discord down before landing, pausing briefly to arch his back in a relieved stretch. Then, with a yawn, he gestured towards the cave, and Discord walked inside.
There was a faint popping sound, and the blaring buzz of the changeling hive disappeared. Discord sighed in relief, and was somewhat amazed to hear himself do it.
“Impressive bit of magic you’ve done, Thorax.”
“Huh?” Thorax replied as he followed Discord inside.
“Oh, it’s easy enough to make a spell that silences all sounds, or all sounds in a certain area, but I’m fairly certain even Starlight Glimmer struggles with selective audio permeability. Much as I’d like to credit this entirely to skill, I can’t help but wonder if this sort of spellcraft is largely performed with sheer power.”
“...What exactly do you mean by that, Discord?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” Discord chuckled. “It’s just one of a frankly innumerable number of questions I’ve got badgering about in my brain at the moment. I certainly hope that you’ve got a nigh-infinite amount of patience and a supremely capable set of lungs - or whatever equivalent your species has for lungs, anyway…”
Thorax sighed. “Discord…” he trailed off as his guards landed behind him.
“I’m honestly not sure whether to begin with your sudden influx of magical proficiency, the drastic remodeling of your living quarters, the entire rebranding of your fellow denizens…”
“Discord.” Changelings continued to fill the space behind Thorax.
“...the proposed threat of some malevolent entity of gigantic power, the sudden cessation of my magic, and - you know what? Even listing all of my questions is beginning to bore me.”
“Discord.”
“Let’s start with a simpler one, shall we? I’m guessing that the fact that your “guards” have tripled in number over the last ten seconds-”
The sharp glint of over a dozen metal tips on over a dozen notched bolts on over a dozen crossbows twinkled like stars as they pointed at every last square inch of Discord’s body. Dispassionately, Thorax raised a hoof. “Hold.”
Discord snorted. “For pete’s sake, this again? Look, are you going to shoot me or take me hostage? Because the suspense isn’t killing me nearly as quickly as becoming a veritable pincushion would.”
“You realize that I have three dozen changelings pointing lethal weapons at you? I’d advise you to hold your tongue.”
“From what? It’s painfully obvious that you’re not going to shoot me, and I don’t believe for a second that you even want me maimed. You hadn’t really thought out this situation ahead of time, have you?”
“You weren’t supposed to come here-”
“-And as a result, you want to put up a bold, brave, assertive front to show that you’re fully capable of dealing with whatever nuisance you happen to have a problem with. But you’ve done a sloppy job, since I have nothing you want to gain - simply behavior that you wish to address. You’re not asking me to give anything up, and you’ve currently shown that you don’t have any intention of physical or mental coercion. This is a hastily cobbled-together front in an attempt to assert dominance-”
“Be quiet.”
“I will not.” Discord arched a disdainful eyebrow. “Not until you stop pretending that I’m some sort of hostage or prisoner. You possess the means, I’ll grant you that, but you clearly aren’t attempting to gain anything.”
“And...and what if I’m not?”
“Then you’re being a fool. I don’t buy for a second that you’ve fostered any sort of malice in the months since we saved Equestria together. What I see, and go ahead and shoot me for saying this…” Discord stretched, politely covering a yawn with the back of his paw. “I see a scared little ruler, trying desperately to keep things from spiraling more out of control than they already have, both desperate to ‘fix everything’ and unwilling to tyrannize his friends in order to do so.”
“Be quiet!” Thorax’s lower lip trembled.
“I’m not mocking you, you know.” Discord’s voice dropped to a softer, gentler cadence. “I know what fear and desperation feel like. I’m simply trying to convince you to point the weapons elsewhere and talk to me like a friend.”
Thorax’s entire body trembled. The changeling king gulped, and said nothing.
“You’re better than this. And if you think this is who you have to be, then you’re better than you think you are. I promise.”
Thorax’s body sagged. His hoof drooped back to the floor. “...Guards? Disperse.”
The changelings behind Thorax wordlessly took flight. In seconds, only Thorax and Discord remained.
“Much better.” Discord stretched again. “You know, I’m rather glad that I’m able to use magic most of the time. Numbness aside, I don’t enjoy having my limbs and dimensions constrained like this. Makes me feel stiff.”
“...Please don’t do that again, okay?”
“I’m going to assume you mean addressing you outside the manner in which you expected?”
“Yeah. I-I mean, yes! Yes is what I meant. Not ‘yeah’. Sorry.”
Discord snorted. “No need to act formal, old chap. Here’s a bit of advice: the trappings of a conversation are far less indicative of gravity or maturity than the actual nature of the conversation itself. So let’s talk business, shall we? You have what appears to be a rather serious problem on your hooves.”
“I do.”
“And I have rather a dizzying amount of questions to answer.”
“I’ll...okay, if I promise to do the best that I can to answer them, will you promise to help me? Things have gotten really bad.”
“So I surmised. And I think I can do you one better. Look.” Discord removed the pendant from his neck, grabbing the chain in one hand and holding it closer to Thorax. “Look, but don’t touch. It’s quite a powerful artifact, and I’d rather not have it accidentally blow up the hive.”
Thorax peered closer. “...I’m not all that knowledgeable about artifacts, sorry. What is it?”
“I’m not surprised you don’t know about it. ‘Good’ kings and princesses try to bury trinkets that offer great power at a terrible price. And yet, here I am, tasked with carrying this wretched bauble until I find someone worthy of bearing the burden of wearing it.”
Thorax blinked. “Wait. You mean…”
“Granted, I still don’t know what your problem is. I’m the messenger, and proper messengers never ask what their messages are about. But where I’m called, I’m called. And I’m called here, so…” Discord pulled back, draping the pendant back over his head.
“Let’s have a bit of a heart-to-heart, shall we? Then we’ll decide if you’re worthy of paying the price and saving your kingdom.”
The abomination loomed over Thorax, pebbles dribbling like blood from a pseudopodic cord of vine and sandstone. For all the Changeling King’s last attack had done, he might as well have pricked the demigod with a needle. It was a far cry from what leaving himself open had cost him.
Thorax tried not to look at the oozing, pulpy mass that used to be his right hind leg. His forelegs shook as he held the cameo up to his face.
“Happy birthday. Please, don’t let me die! I’m begging you!”
Nothing. The beast’s corded limb thickened, then swung down.
“Happy birthday! H-happy-”
Time froze.
Thorax blinked.
No - it hadn’t frozen, not exactly. Flecks of dirt trickled off of the creature into the air, but fell as if the air was made of molasses. The creature’s limb still swung for him, but moved as if on an overcranked film, its descent almost imperceptible.
It gave Thorax enough time to let the pain catch up to him.
The changeling gagged as agony throttled a scream before it had time to properly escape his throat. The world tilted, righting itself as time snapped back to normal for a centisecond. It was enough that, in the space of an eyeblink, the abomination’s limb had swung visibly closer to him.
He needed to stay focused. He needed to stay focused, to keep his mind clear, to not give a single second to thinking about anything but trying to survive. Thorax scrabbled back against the craggy earth, ichors dribbling off of his useless leg as he tried to pull himself away from the titanic limb.
“Get out of here,” Thorax mumbled. “I need to get out of here. I need to get-”
Time snapped back into place, and the abomination’s tentacle smashed into the earth.
Thorax was no longer on it.
Instead, the Changeling King gasped as he watched the creature strike where he had just been, over a hundred feet from where he was now.
The craggy titan was quick to raise its tentacle, but slow to realize that its prey had gone missing. Choking back pain, Thorax pulled himself over dusty rock and soil, hoping that the creature wouldn’t look in his direction.
He didn’t even cross five meters before an earth-trembling roar of rage told Thorax that it had. Turning, the Changeling King saw it surge for him in a tidal wave of botanic frenzy-
-and watched it crash again into the spot where he had just been, two hundred feet away.
A high-pitched scream filled Thorax’s ears as he scrabbled backwards, coughing, dust billowing up in front of his eyes and fear seizing his lungs and the scream filling his ears-
The creature roared again, and the ground shifted two feet below Thorax.
The Changeling King fell, bouncing over pebbles and grit before coming to a shuddering halt-
-And the ground shifted yet again, the screaming growing louder, a clod of dirt tumbling into Thorax’s mouth-
-And the ground shifted again, and the screaming grew louder as Thorax spat out the dirt clod-
-And the ground shifted again-
-And the ground shifted-
“Stop it!” Thorax yelled.
The screaming stopped. The air grew still. The ground stayed still, not shifting. Thorax gulped for air, shivering, the pain in his leg ratcheting up through his body once more.
“I’m sorry.”
The voice echoed in his head. Not his voice. His voice didn’t sound plaintive, not like…
“I’m just...I’m just scared.”
“It’s okay. I’m scared, too.” Thorax tried to keep his voice neutral as he scanned over the ground, looking for the source of the voice.
“And...and my leg really hurts, and I don’t know how it happened…”
Thorax paused.
“...Wait. Your leg?”
“Y-yes. Um. I-I didn’t mean to bother you, um…”
Thorax froze. “Which...which leg?”
“Um. My...my right hind leg.”
Thorax’s heart dropped into his stomach. Slowly, he turned his head to stare at the pasty remnants of his leg. “Am...am I looking at it now?”
“Y-yes.”
“Are...are you inside my body?”
The voice fell silent. Groaning, Thorax looked over at the horizon. The abomination was there, a faint blip of forest green. As Thorax watched, the beast began to grow larger, millimeter by millimeter.
“Um. Aren’t...aren’t you inside mine?”
“I...okay.” Thorax shivered. “Okay, I really, really want to get freaked out by this. I really do. But we don’t have much time before we need to move again. Was that you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“The teleporting.”
“I...I don’t know. I don’t think I was doing it.”
Thorax sighed. “Okay, this...This is manageable. Don’t worry. I’ll think of how to escape, okay?”
“I...can I help?”
“If you have any ideas, yes. Please.” The blip on the horizon grew larger. “I think I’ve got some magic left in me, but not as much as...as the whole teleporting-thing. Which you apparently can’t do.”
The voice whimpered.
“Which is fine! That’s fine! Listen. What do you think you could do to help us get out of here?”
“Um...I can f-fly...I’m just not, um, not that good at it.”
“No, you’re not. I mean, I’m not. I’m not a bad flier. I can fly just fine. Okay, this is getting...this isn’t getting any less confusing.” Thorax reached over and dug his hoof into the earth, scraping a straight line across its surface. “Okay. What did you just do?”
“I just, um...I scratched out a line on the ground.”
“Okay, good. So don’t...it’s...ugh.” Thorax sighed. “I don’t know how it happened and I don’t think I have a lot of time to think about it, so can you take it for granted that we’re sharing the same body?”
“...Yes. I, um. Th-that makes sense.”
“Good.” Thorax paused. “Okay, one more thing. I swear your voice sounds familiar, but I don’t know who you are. So if we’re going to be working together, you can call me-”
“Thorax. R-right?”
Thorax paused.
“I-I mean, um, I-I’m sorry if i’m misremembering. But you sort of sounded like him, um. F-from what I heard him say, anyway.”
“When did...when did you hear him speak?” Thorax groped around at his neck, hoof sliding over the intricate links of a silver chain.
“There was this time, um...back when I was kidnapped by Queen Chrysalis…”
“Yes. Yes, I was there. I rescued everyone. That’s...so you were there, then?”
Thorax brought the opal at the end of the chain up to his face. As he stared at the carving at its center, the last tumblers of the puzzle that had been bugging him for weeks slid into place.
“They, um...they kidnapped me, too. I’m...my name is Fluttershy.”
“Dingdingdingdingding!” Pinkie Pie yelled as Rainbow Dash wobbled, keeled over backwards and fell with a resounding splash into the lake.
The pegasus came up sputtering, wiping her sodden mane away from her eyes and glaring at Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. “You cheated!”
“Nopenopenope!” Pinkie Pie replied, shaking her head as she steadied Fluttershy’s hind legs on her shoulders. “Fluttershy beat you fair and square!”
“There ain’t no cheating in Shoulder Wars, sugarcube.” Applejack chuckled. “She knocked you off my shoulders fair n’ square.”
“You let go on purpose! You sabotaged me!”
“Hon, do I look like the sorta pony who’d do any such thing?” Applejack huffed. “I’d be insulted if I didn’t know you were just bein’ a sore loser.”
“I am not a sore loser! You guys are just cheating!” Rainbow Dash pointed an accusing hoof at Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. “I demand a do-over!”
“Oh, um. I don’t know. I was thinking about just taking a nap, um. I-if that’s okay with you. I mean, I don’t have to, but…” Fluttershy yawned. “We’ve been swimming a lot, and, um. I thought that a break might be nice.”
Rainbow Dash sputtered. “You’re just being a sore winner! You guys are being unfair!”
“Rainbow Dash.” Applejack snapped. “It’s Fluttershy’s birthday! If you don’t stop tryin’ to bully her into doin’ something she doesn’t want to do, I swear I’m gonna-”
“Hey, Girls!”
All four ponies turned towards the lake shore. Twilight Sparkle stood there, wearing a set of bright yellow water wings and a humongous grin with equal levels of goofiness.
“Hi, Twilight!” Pinkie Pie yelled back, reaching up to wave at her and almost sending Fluttershy toppling over into the water. “Are you done studying with Starlight Glimmer?”
“Yes, I am! She did a wonderful job on her friendship lessons today, and I thought that the two of us could take a break. What are you girls doing?”
“We’re playing a game where you’re trying to knock other ponies into the water, and then you try to convince Rainbow Dash to stop being a grumpy pants when she loses! Want to join us?”
“I am not a grumpy pants!”
“You totally are!”
“I am noooooooooooooooot!”
“That sounds like fun!” Twilight replied, wading into the water. “But don’t you already have two teams?”
Applejack shook her head. “Fluttershy was gonna get some rest, so we’ve got an open slot. Here, get on my shoulders and I’ll teach ya some of the strategizin’ you’ll need to win.”
“Okay! I’ll take Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie chirped, letting go of Fluttershy’s hind legs. Gravity took hold, and Fluttershy tumbled back, splashing into the warm, clear water. Her mane swirled as she sank, strands of pink tracing curved lines through the lake’s surface and lacing into her view of the brilliant blue sky.
Fluttershy floated for two seconds, drinking in the rush of sensation and the euphoria of relaxation, before swimming back to the surface. The pegasus drew in a shuddering breath, but any sense of alarm in her action was belied by the brilliant smile on her face. As her friends splashed about, explaining and arguing and giggling in a milieu of noise, Fluttershy paddled back to the shore. Tucking her mane beneath one of her ears, the Pegasus eyed the lush grass in front of her...
...and, after a couple of seconds of thought, decided against it. The noise from her friends might disturb her slumber, and it wouldn’t do to bustle about with her friends while tired. It would be easier for her to rest in her bed, anyway - and her friends would doubtlessly know where to find her if she snoozed for a teensy bit longer than she planned. Tiptoeing around Rarity (sprawled over a towel, beneath a parasol, fast asleep) and Spike (sprawled over a different towel, fast asleep, surprisingly not using the opportunity to covertly gaze at Rarity while she slept), Fluttershy trotted back towards her cottage.
It was a beautiful walk. A slight wind rustled the leaves on trees, filling the air with a soothing susurrus. The grass beneath her hooves was soft, and ever so slightly ticklish; the colors of every last bit of flora around her almost popped with color, saturated with summer sunlight. As she approached her cottage, the rustling of the leaves was accompanied by the familiar burbling of the brook next to her cottage-
-and the unfamiliar babble of conversation.
“I don’t suppose that faking a prophecy is out of the question?” Discord muttered, from somewhere behind her cottage door.
“She’s familiar enough with obscure texts and magical items that she’d be able to detect a fake. This is the alicorn that figured out that my ‘magic staff’ was fake in a matter of seconds, remember?” Starlight Glimmer replied.
“How could I? I wasn’t exactly there.”
“Good point.”
Fluttershy’s breath hitched in her throat. As quietly as she could manage, Fluttershy crept closer to her door.
“So is there anything that our textbook-addled friend isn’t familiar with?”
“I’m sure there are some legends that she hasn’t examined yet. The problem is finding a way to trick the Cutie Map itself.”
“That bothersome bit of boardroom banter? I could break it in a matter of seconds.”
“She’d probably lead us on a quest to fix it. It’s too valuable to ignore.”
“Of all the - why can’t she “banish herself to the library” for a thousand years? She’d probably find it far happier than Luna’s imprisonment on the moon doubtlessly was.”
“Speaking of libraries - do you think we’d be able to get into Starswirl the Bearded’s archives? There might be documents in there that would be helpful.”
“After the incident with Sunset Shimmer? Hardly. You might be able to manage it, possibly, but I doubt that Princess Celestia would let me come within a thousand meters of it.”
“But I’d need to convince Princess Celestia to let me in without letting Twilight know about it.”
“I thought everypony from Canterlot to Manehattan trusted you.”
“More than Twilight Sparkle? Princess Celestia doesn’t.”
Trembling, Fluttershy pressed her ear against the door.
“Perhaps I could sneak in? I heard Twilight did that once before.”
“Would you know where to start looking? The archives are way bigger than they look on the outside, and not well organized. I think that’s on purpose, honestly.”
“I don’t think anypony would care if we disappear for a bit. Let’s just arrange for it on a day where you aren’t studying under Twilight’s lessons. I disappear all the time, and hardly anypony questions me about it.”
“But they’d question me. And almost everypony is good at picking out lies, so I don’t think I’d be able to bluff them all out.”
“Please. If I plead innocent to Fluttershy, I’m positive that they’d take everything I said as the unadulterated truth.”
Eyes wide, Fluttershy came within inches of letting a gasp escape her throat.
“It would take a while with both of us. No offense, but I think it’d take even longer if you went alone. Princess Celestia probably has patrols that examine everything, and I’m sure that they take that particular job very seriously. It’d be a huge risk.”
“Riskier than doing nothing? We have no idea how short of a clock we’re on. Unless you’ve got a better idea on how to disband the Elements of Harmony forever?”
Fluttershy gasped.
The conversation fell silent. The wind still blew through the leaves, but the only sounds that mattered to Fluttershy were absolutely still. For a second, Fluttershy froze on the doorstep, limbs frozen in place, body trembling.
Then she turned and ran.
But not quickly enough.
With a small popping sound and a flash of turquoise, Starlight Glimmer materialized in front of Fluttershy, a huge and undeniably fake grin on her face. “Fluttershy! How wonderful to see you again!”
Fluttershy turned back to her cottage. The hinges on her door creaked, and the door swung open. With an equally large and equally fake grin, Discord stared back at her. “Ah! Fluttershy! What a pleasant surprise! Do come in, won’t you?”
Bolting to her right, Fluttershy ran for the river. Her wings spread wide, then unwillingly spasmed and contracted. The grass under her hooves suddenly grew slick, then more slippery than grease, and Fluttershy slipped and fell snout-first into the earth.
“Don’t make us silence you okay?” Starlight Glimmer’s voice called cheerfully from behind her. “If you’re a good mare and don’t try to call for help, I promise that we’ll invite you inside like an honored guest.”
Fluttershy turned around, took in a mouthful of air and tried to scream-
-and Discord’s arm extended, claw shooting out and latching around her mouth. The pegasus shrieked, but her muffled yells were no louder than the rustling of the leaves; she struggled, but her movements had no more impact than the bending of a blade of grass.
“Tch. Where are your manners, Fluttershy?” Discord chided. His arm retracted, dragging Fluttershy over her lawn, until she came face-to-face with the leering draconequus. “Now, let’s do this properly, shall we? Do come inside, friend.”
Discord lifted Fluttershy into the air. As she dangled and ineffectively lashed out with her legs, Starlight Glimmer calmly walked past her and entered her house. Still holding Fluttershy in the air, Discord followed behind her, and calmly shut the door behind him. With uncanny nonchalance, Discord snapped his fingers; as one, the curtains in her living room drew themselves shut, and the door locked itself behind the three of of them, dousing the room in half-complete darkness. As Starlight turned to face the two of them, Discord strode through Fluttershy’s living room and dropped the pegasus on top of her couch.
“Don’t move, and don’t try to scream.” Starlight Glimmer ordered, voice taking on a bitter tone. Her horn glowed, and strands of turquoise light traced over every seam in the room. “Nopony will be able to hear you, and I doubt you’ll be able to escape us. I’d rather not have to hurt you, okay?”
Part of Fluttershy wanted desperately to yell, to run, to try and do something to escape. The part of her that was scared slightly less witless sat on her couch, fully aware of how impossible attempting to escape was. Body trembling, Fluttershy nodded.
With a hefty sigh, Starlight Glimmer’s shoulders slumped. The smile on her face disappeared; in the gloom, it was difficult to make out her new expression, but she seemed almost…
Despondent?
“I really hate doing this, Discord.” Starlight turned to face the draconequus, rubbing her eyes with one hoof.. “I mean, I know we have to act like the bad guys if something like this happens, but even if it’s just an act-”
“I’d rather not be the bad guy, either.” Discord shook his head, smile gone. “You’re forgetting that I’m a former villain, too? On multiple counts, no less.”
“I know. It still feels like backsliding into being an actual villain, though. Like, what if it starts to feel easy again?”
“I’ll make sure to keep you in check, don’t worry. After all, she’s Fluttershy. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“U-um.”
Starlight Glimmer and Discord turned back towards Fluttershy. The pegasus gulped, drawing her body up as tightly against her as she could.
“I…” Fluttershy mumbled. “I...I don’t...wh-why are you doing this?”
“Shh. shh. It’s going to be okay, I promise.” Discord raised his arms, as if indecisive about attempting to hug her. “I’m sorry that we had to scare you. Believe me, if we didn’t have to convince that we’re absolutely serious, we wouldn’t impress on you like this.”
“I don’t...I don’t understand.” Fluttershy’s voice cracked, a tear trickling down her cheek. “Wh-why are you...wh-why...wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m going to assume that you heard us mention breaking apart the Elements of Harmony?”
Mutely, Fluttershy nodded.
“But that means that you haven’t heard the important part. Which, I suppose, is our fault. We haven’t exactly been open about this endeavor, but it does sound awful, doesn’t it?”
“And trust us,” Starlight Glimmer added, “We wouldn’t even dream of doing it if the alternative wasn’t letting some of us die.”
Starlight Glimmer lay in her hospital bed, trying very hard not to think about her upcoming conversation.
Or maybe she was. It was hard to make up her mind, which - given that she had all the time in the world to lie in a hospital bed and try to forget about how every bit of her coat itched - was probably for the best. Sending her thoughts around in circles did little more than replace “mind-numbing boredom” with “slightly less than mind-numbing boredom,” but it would have to do.
Unless the conversation would do.
Maybe she could ask for a book the next time the nurse came in. Any book, any subject, didn’t matter. She could read a thesaurus at this point, a medical dictionary, something to keep her occupied that didn’t necessarily involve talking to-
“You!”
Starlight sighed. “Hello, Trixie.”
“Don’t ‘hello’ me!” Trixie fumed, storming over to Starlight Glimmer’s bed. “Do you have any idea how utterly imbecilic you’ve made me out to be? Here I am, practicing a great and powerful array of prestidigitations for next saturday’s show, only to find out on excessively short notice that my assistant won’t be around to assist me at all?”
“Trixie…”
“And then I find out that she’s done something so...so utterly inane that I’m having a hard time trying to articulate it with words! Words! And now I’m expected to carry on with my career, woefully short-staffed like this while you laze about in some ivory-towered-”
“Trixie. I’m okay.”
Trixie stiffened. “You...you’re what?”
“I’ll heal. I’m going to be okay. I promise.”
Trixie blinked.
The clock ticked once, twice.
Then, with awkward restraint, Trixie leaned over the bed and gently wrapped Starlight Glimmer in a hug.
“Don’t.” Trixie’s voice wavered. “Don’t ever do something like that again.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Don’t try. Promise. I was so worried…” Trixie trailed off, sniffing.
“Shhh. Don’t cry, okay? I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not crying.”
“I believe you.” Starlight patted Trixie’s back. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
“Refusing to see my assistant? While she’s under the weather? Please. Nopony’s that gauche.” Trixie sniffed again and pulled away from Starlight Glimmer, a sardonic smirk on her face. “Well, except for Twilight Sparkle.”
“Huh? What’s wrong with Twilight?”
“You mean, besides the fact that she hasn’t visited you at all?”
“I know that Fluttershy and Soarin were hurt, too. Maybe something’s seriously wrong-”
“More serious than snapping your horn off?”
“I don’t know, okay? Nopony’s told me anything.” Starlight frowned. “Wait a minute. How did you know that Twilight hasn’t visited me yet?”
“Uh, because I asked the nurse if anypony else had visited you?”
“No, I mean...how did you know that Twilight’s been visiting anypony at all? Did the nurse tell you that?”
Trixie blinked. “Um. Starlight? Hello? Do you seriously think that nopony knows that you were in an accident?”
“I haven’t really been thinking about it. Major reconstructive surgery, remember? I’ve spent most of my time either sleeping or blissed out on ether. Between that, eating and trying to figure out how to sit up without being in pain, my schedule’s been pretty much booked. Did the hospital send out letters, or something?”
“Send out letters?” Trixie gaped. “It’s been all over the news! Did you seriously think an accident that monumental would get quietly brushed under the rug?”
Starlight paused. “Um. I don’t know?”
“Wh-okay, Trixie. Okay. Deep Breath.” Trixie rubbed her eyes. “Do you have amnesia, or something?”
“I...yes and no?”
“What.”
“I remember who I am, and all that, but...I don’t actually remember anything about the accident. I think my brain’s blocking it out.”
“Could be something to do with your horn. Uh. I didn’t mean...yeah. You know I didn’t mean it like-”
“I know.”
“You really don’t remember?”
“Just what the nurse told me. And she hasn’t told me much. Um...There was something that happened to Fluttershy, Soarin and me. I think...we were in Cloudsdale? Or close to it? I remember being up in the sky. That bit’s personal memory, anyway. Twilight was supposed to fill me in on the rest, but…” Starlight Glimmer frowned. “I wish she had stopped by at least once, come to think of it.”
“You didn’t miss much. I mean, as far as I can tell, and I’m only operating on a couple of days of hearsay and newspaper articles.” Trixie sat next to Starlight, resting her hoof on Starlight’s arm. “You were up in Cloudsdale near the Wonderbolts Academy, apparently. You and Fluttershy. The Wonderbolts were running an unscheduled buzz towards the Cloudsdale library, but didn’t check for foreign traffic. Boom,” Trixie added as she knocked her forehooves together. “Four-way accident. Cue the paramedics, the emergency services in Cloudsdale and Canterlot alike, and me pulling out my mane while getting bounced back and forth from clerical office to clerical office, trying to sign off on hundreds of pages of paperwork just to see you for half of a freaking hour.”
“...Four-way accident? It’s just Fluttershy, Soarin, me…?”
“Oh, yeah. Spitfire.” Trixie winced. “I’m not surprised the nurses didn’t bring that up.”
“Oh.”
“She was the one that hit you. She was going way faster than Soarin was, and then you had some kind of reflexive-magic-shield-thing on top of that, right?”
“Great. I killed the Wonderbolt captain?”
“Not on purpose! Like, if anything, the onus is on her. I still had a ridiculous time trying to convince Golden Shield that I wasn’t some protester, though. Stupid bureaucrats.”
“Like...comatose-dead, or deep-paralysis dead, or…?”
“Closed casket. Unquestionably closed casket. Trust me. I kind of, uh...sort of used a bit of sleight-of-hoof on one of the photographic journalists that got to the scene before it was cordoned off. And I returned it, okay? I’m not a thief.” Trixie held up her hooves. “But yeah. I’m guessing that you guys went skidding off the clouds after the impact, and I’m gonna guess that she was going way, way faster than Soarin was, because, uh...you’ve heard of the phrase “shovels and hoses,” right?”
Starlight Glimmer winced. Agony reflexively flared up beneath her coat, and Starlight bit down on her lip to stifle an unwarranted shriek of pain.
“Crud! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Give me a bit.” Starlight Glimmer took a deep breath, then another. Gradually, the pain began to trickle out of her, evaporating without a trace into the sterile hospital air. “...See? Everything’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t-”
“Everything. Is fine.” Starlight exhaled. “Okay?”
Trixie bit her lip, then nodded.
“Look. I know that you want to help me, but what would help the most right now is information. I’m starting to suspect that the hospital’s keeping information from me on purpose, and i’m irked by that. I can’t move around that much, so I need you to give me updates on what’s going outside of this room. At least until I can get back on my hooves, okay?”
“Okay.”
Starlight Glimmer grinned. “The Great and Powerful Trixie shouldn’t find it that hard, right?”
Trixie blinked, then cracked a grin. “Of course not. It’s mere foal’s play for The Great and Powerful Trixie to act as a professional eavesdropper.”
“Good. Okay, how much time do you think we have left to talk?”
“Theoretically, all the time in the world. In practice, I’m sure the nurses wanted me to take fifteen seconds, tops.”
“Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting, I guess. Okay, so look. There’s one more thing I want to know before they boot you out. Not that I don’t want to talk to you for as long as possible, but-”
“You need to know how other show ponies pull off their tricks.”
“Of a sort. I want to know what’s happened to Soarin and Fluttershy.”
“Soarin should be out of the hospital in a day or two. The newspapers seem really excited to be reporting that bit of good news, at least. I don’t know anything more specific than what the news has fed me, though.”
“And Fluttershy?”
Trixie paused. “Um. I don’t know right now.”
“...But?”
“Look. I don’t like most of your friends, but they’re still your friends. If they haven’t visited you at all, then I’m going to assume it’s bad. Really bad. Uh.” Trixie paused. “Actually, I guess I’ve got a question for you.”
“Lay it on me.”
“I haven’t heard anything about Discord. Like, I know he and Fluttershy were close. Really close,” Trixie added, pressing her forehooves together for emphasis. “So either he’s somewhere else entirely, or he’s been somewhere in this hospital - and like I said, there’s been complete radio silence about this place, figuratively speaking. I think you need to find out which one it is, before something bad happens.”
“He’s our friend-”
“He’s the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. I’m not saying that he’s not your friend, but think about who he is and what he can do.”
Trixie tucked a strand of mane behind one ear.
“And Starlight? Think about what he could do if he got really upset.”
