> One on One Philosophy with Discord
>  by CrackedInkWell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Yona - What's the Point of Spirituality
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is something relaxing about lazily floating around in a pool of lava on a volcano in the middle of the ocean. Especially with the giant rubber ducky that helps you keep afloat over the billion-degree heat. And overhead, the natives are chanting their disappointment because the creature they deem worthy of sacrificing isn’t being consumed by said lava so that the gods could rain on their crops is all music to my ears. 
 
  I’m sure they’ll get over it, but for now, their wails of why I wouldn’t burn is just making me fall asleep.
 
  Too bad that moment of bliss was interrupted by a knock on a faraway door. “It’s open!” I called out. Out from the charred rockface of the volcano above me, a portion of the rock swings open and a startled Yak fell over backward. “Oh yeah, mind the lava!”
 
  “M-Mr. Discord?” the student said, timidly looking down into the tranquil pool of fire. “What teacher doing?”
 
  “What does it look like?” I waved a talon around, “I’m relaxing.”
 
  “Oh… is Yona bothering you?”
 
  I thought it over for a moment. “Probably not, if you were a dragon and took one look at this before doing a cannonball into this realm of ‘Ahh-dom’, I would have said yes. But you’re a creature that’s the equivalent of a walking shag carpet, and as we all know, shag carpets don’t like getting burned. So no, no you’re not bothering me.”
 
  “Can we talk?”

  Lowering my sunglasses, I looked up at the Yak. “Something wrong?”
 
  “Just…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “Something Yona have wondered about. Maybe Philosophy teacher could shed light on.”
 
  “Ah! It’s that kind of conversation!” I grinned, letting the rubber ducky I was riding on to grow many tall legs to reach up to her level. “Why didn’t you say so? Come on in! The island isn’t going to lay here and be pretty all by itself without anything admiring it.”
 
  Cautiously, Yona stepped onto the inflated rubber ducky with more legs than a centipede. She sat down next to me as I clapped my talon-paw so that our ride would rise over the mouth of the volcano and into the daylight. The natives were running away screaming at this point, but I paid no attention to them. “So, my student, what brings you into my office today?”
 
  Yona was trying to shift her weight to the center of the duck. “Uh… Can Yona talk to teacher near ground? Yona not like being this high up.”
 
  “Oh very well.” I pointed for where the yellow duck was to go to and it started moving, this time we got closer to the ground to the point the nervous Yak was able to talk. “So, what’s up?”
 
  Being relieved as we make our way down the mountainside, Yona turned to me. “Yona has been learning about other cultures. Friends telling Yona about traditions and how friends see world. Yak can’t help but notice how different they take what spiritual is. Each have different way, Yona think is silly in secret. But that got Yona thinking, so many unique rituals and rites, why have them? Even if traditions silly, why does generation pass down to next?”
 
  “My, going straight to the hot button topic that might demand the comment section to ask for my head on a plate, aren’t we?” I remarked. “Almost immediately I can sense a couple of readers downvoting this story as soon as you asked that question.” Yona tilted her head in confusion. “Point being is that you’re tapping into something that many creatures throughout the world and multi-universes would get emotional about. But it is understandable, nonetheless. After all, if one were to live long enough, you’ll eventually run into someone that would have a different answer to things like who are we; where do we come from; when can I get my happy meal; and where are we going? Am I right?”
 
  Yona nodded. “Yes. Yaks have own answers to all that. We know what truth is, but other creatures claim same thing. Yona finds this confusing.”
 
  “Why?”
 
  “Well… Yona thinks that truth doesn’t obey borders. Like for example: in Yakyakistan, we think sun as first great Yak going across sky. But in Equestria, Celestia raises and lowers sun. However, when it comes to things like math, if one and one make two in Yakyakistan, then Equestria would say that one and one make two. Surely, if one believes what is true, wouldn’t others come to same conclusion?”
 
  By now we’ve reached the forest part of the island where the rubber ducky was now floating among the vegetation. 
 
  “You know,” I said leaning back, “many philosophers have made the same observations that you’ve pointed out.”
 
  “But Yak wants to hear what teacher thinks. How does Discord see spirituality?”
 
  Oh boy… 

I plucked a bright pink tropical flower to fold it into a bird of paradise. “Speaking as a God of Chaos, I’m actually split on it.”
 
  “Why?”
 
  “Because on the one tentacle, the whole belief thing is admittingly barking mad – at best, it's downright funny to me. Like for example, the ancient Dragons used to believe that the world was once a giant egg and the creator god sprang up one day before putting the pieces of his shell back together so he could make more dragons to torment on. Or the Cult of Luna believed that Moon Butt gave birth to the stars, planets and the earth… I don’t know how she would be able to walk around after all of that either, but that’s neither here nor there. But the funniest one I’ve heard is that there is this big giant universe that’s expanding, and it’ll eventually collapse on itself, and we’re all here just – 'cause.” I chuckled as I let the flower turn into a bird go so it could go find some Fruit Loops. “Of course, for anyone who doesn’t believe, the whole affair is indeed ridiculous. I don't blame them. That going to a statue will cure your cancer, or that you can talk to your dead relatives through a shallow pond, and burning your message will be received by a god because he prefers communication through burnt mail. But hey, as long as such things are enough for someone else to go to war with them because they think they’re weird, I’m a happy guy!”
 
  “So… Discord think there's no point?”
 
  “I never said that,” I told her. “I’m saying that on the outset, these things are downright funny to me. While it’s understandable that someone from a different belief or one that doesn’t have one at all would take one look at these, say that they’re delusional and then never think any further on the issue because they say to themselves ‘I’m right, they’re wrong, no questions asked, that’s how it shall be forever and ever, amen!’ Which is understandable… but not exactly the way to look at things.”
 
  “Huh?” Yona tilted her head as I snatched a coconut out of a tree, cracked it over my knee and out comes a golden chocolate egg. “What teacher mean?”
 
  “Before I answer that, let me ask you: Why do you think that belief in something divine exists?”
 
  I gave her time to think it over, all the while, I decided that there should be a change in scenery. After all, I was starting to get bored with the stereotypical tropical island and instead shifted it to the stereotypical outer space environment. Complete with being in a sleek rocket ship with my smiling face on it zipping past the stars. The Yak looked around confused for a moment but returned to the question just as quickly. 
 
  “Well… Yona thinks that beliefs came to explain things. In past, no creature knew what was around, so they make explanations. No idea why sun goes across sky, or why Yaks fall ill, so they think spirit did it.”
 
  Nodding, I let go of the wheel and let us run randomly in space. “That’s one way of looking at it, but it’s not the only way.”
 
  “How so?”
 
  “Looking through the lens of the countless philosophers that came before, the beliefs of creatures didn’t come about because what they think is true – rather, they come about because they want it to be true.”
 
  “Is that same thing?”
 
  My face scrunched up. “Not quite. Let me give you an example.” I reached into my space seat to grab out a remote and change the dazzling stars to a light puppet show. “There is a myth where a mother had her foal grew very sick before dying. The distraught mother prays to the Goddess of Life to help her. Soon after, the Goddess comes in to tell the mother, gently and calmly, that this child did not die, but rather had fallen asleep, so she tells the foal to get up. And she does so. This simple tale may sound like nonsense from an outsider’s point of view, but to me, this isn’t something to dismiss altogether.”
 
  I turn off the puppet show and look back to the where the rocket was going. While I still didn’t take the wheel inside an asteroid belt, I continued. “Regardless what creature you are, if you’re a parent that, despite everything you try at, you end up watching your child become sick to the point of not being able to get out of bed. And when things get so bad that you watch your child slip away into the grave, then I’d bet even you would want to believe in miracles regardless of what the laws of physics and biology say. And you have to have nerves of steel not to wake up in the middle of the night from the pains of depression and guilt that maybe there was something – anything you could have done to keep them alive. Or at the very least, hope that your loved one is somewhere at peace and no longer suffering.”
 
  Yona looked down at her hooves, thoughtful. “So… Teacher saying they came about for emotional reason?”
 
  After getting out of the asteroid field, I nodded. “It’s something that I’ve noticed. All these countless years since the start of the universe, and I can’t help but observe how emotional living beings are. As much as some creatures would like to convince themselves of how logical and reasonable they evolved into, the truth of the matter is that emotion has an enormous say in how we behave. Trust me, I should know. As a being of chaos, I tend to get swayed easily with all sorts of things – joy one moment and anger the next. Jealously one day and regret the next month. Even Yaks aren’t excluded from this.”
 
  Yona nodded. “Yaks have temper. But not always. At times, Yaks best at emotions.”
 
  “And the smashing?”
 
  “T-That’s different. We smash because… oh…” She realized. “Yaks believe by smashing; it keeps Yaks from becoming evil. If Yak doesn’t smash non-living thing then…”
 
  I nodded. “Now you’re starting to get it. But that’s one piece of the puzzle.” I pulled on the brakes to slow down. “Despite how silly the actions themselves can be, part of the reason behind it is coming from a tender place. It’s to give comfort and reassurance, even when in reality there isn’t any in a life that’s already painful. At the same time, if we’re really being honest, belief is the least interesting part in all of this debate. I’ve said, there are other reasons.” The space ship came to a halt. “Look at where we are now.”
 
  “Where we…” that was as far as Yona got before her mouth hung loose, and she has good reason to. Before us there extend to oblivion trillions upon trillions of stars. The glimmer of lights in every color, swirling about in galaxies and supernovae, each one in its own flows and eddies that twist about like milk in water. Each direction without any defining shape or form, but still beautiful. 
 
  “You know, when I was very young and I felt that I wanted to spend some time alone, this right here was my spot. My quiet spot that literally gave me space to reflect on things. And no matter how many times I come here; I never get bored with the view.”
 
  “Magnificent.” Was the only thing to come out of my student’s mouth.
 
  I nodded. “There’s another point to the whole spirituality thing – awe. What I mean by that is just a sense to put our lives and problems into perspective by forgetting ourselves for just a minute in something awesome as this. Countless cults in the past were very good at pointing out things that are way bigger than ourselves, and as such, they remind us to behave kindly to others. Of course, this too can be carried away with obscure material and superstition so it would put many creatures off. However, in places like this,” I gestured to the galaxies and milky ways. “It gives you a reminder of not only where you are, but how big your problems really are.”
 
  “How big problems are?” Yona inquired.
 
  “Well to give you an idea,” I pulled out a telescope and handed it over to her, after pointing out a very specific spot in the universe I tell her, “Look right over there, what do you see?”
 
  It took her a moment to peer through and look at what I wanted her to see. “More stars and tiny blue dot.”
 
  “Believe it or not, that tiny blue dot is home.”
 
  Yona was shocked. “But… that can’t be! Home looks so-”
 
  “Small?” I completed her sentence. “And compare that to what is surrounding that planet, what we are seeing right now is only a microscopic sample of the universe. There are more stars and planets out here then there are grains of sand in the world we know so well. So tell me Yona, compared to what we think is important, of family arguments to wars, from crying over fallen ice-cream to the unfairness of politics, what are they compared to the rest of infinity?”
 
  The Yak lowered down the telescope, her face stricken by sadness. “Then… nothing matters?”
 
  “Ah! That’s where the next point of showing you this comes in. Something that my dear Fluttershy would appreciate.”
 
  “What’s that?”
 
  “Kindness.” Leaning back in my space chair, I let my toe guide the ship. “If I’m being honest, before my reformation, I would say that everything alive tends to do nothing but think about themselves and their problems. Ponies alone barely care for other creatures, animals or even the planet they live on. Cults in the past once tried to give holy commandments to help to develop some ethical sense, but if one were to view it all from this perspective, it becomes something more powerful than that. A sense of how unbelievably rare and fragile all this life stuff really is. Since we’re isolated on a tiny blue dot in a vast universe, the miracle of life is positively freakish. If any leader on that planet were to be at this vantage point, suddenly, they’ll look at others not as enemies or competitors, but that they would see they all have one thing in common; life.”
 
  “So… spirituality gives awe, and have Yaks focus on things that isn’t Yaks.”
 
  I shrugged, “That’s one way of putting it.” My toe slowed down the ship to where we could see Equestria and its lands below. “When you take a moment to step back from your own problems, to not become yourself for a split second, you’d find that you can become sympathetic to those who are not you in any regard. This is what beliefs used to do, but many have tended to focus more on the ritual then the intent of it. One could bring themselves to a point of divinity by all sorts of ways, listening to beautiful music, looking up at the stars at night, taking a nap in a pool of lava, eating a slice of cheese, watching a sunrise. Just things that would make one be both in awe of what is around them and empathy to those that would need that tenderness.”
 
  Yona put a cloven hoof to her chin. “So what teacher saying: belief tame emotional hurt. That spirituality gets creatures awareness how big problems really are. A call not to be selfish.” She frowned. “But Yona not satisfied.”
 
  I raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
 
  “If that true, why have rituals and build mighty temples? Why have holidays? Could anyone just be told once and be done?”
 
  I grinned. “Ah! Now you’re finally getting into the juicier bits of this topic!” With a snap, we went from outer space and into Ancient Southern Equestria, complete with pyramids, sand, and a festival conducted by bald priests and a fire pit. As expected, the ponies below didn’t notice the shiny spaceship just floating above their heads. On any other day, I would get their attention, but I had a lesson to teach. “As much as non-believers would love to point out all the horrors that have been committed in the name of the divine, it’s more fascinating to point out the other stuff these beliefs get up to. For example, the way they regularly gather a good chunk of the population and, strikingly, tell them to be nice to one another instead of hitting them with sticks. Or the way they create a sense of community, acting as hosts for important occasions like weddings, funerals and the occasional sacrificial burnings.” 
 
  My student looked down at the firepits. “Are those camels?”
 
  “It’s a once a year thing, but don’t worry.” I waved a dismissive paw. “This was a way to let off some steam and hope for a good harvest for these ponies. But where was I? Oh yes! Other cults, including this one, strive to emphasize that grandpa and the child, the big chief and the microscopic guy learn to see each other as equals. These beliefs use rituals, like this one, were made to point stuff out to us and lodge it in our forgetful, Alzheimer’s like minds. For example, that the seasons are changing or that it’s time to remember your ancestors; that the moon looks pretty; that your child has turned into a resentful teenager; that you can make a fresh start; or that it’s rather amazing that there’s cheesecake on the table.”
 
  A wave of my claw and the scene changes again. This time towards a Pegasi temple where directly beneath it in its amphitheater, a play was going on complete with masks. The mode of transportation too changed as we lay about on clouds in togas. “Since ancient times, all the cults of the past know we’re not just intellectual creatures, so they carefully appeal to us through art and crafts with beauty. Of course, we think of beauty in one category as a trivial and shallow thing while putting truth and depth in another. These guys,” I gestured to the actors below, “brilliantly joined them together. So, they end up building temples, shrines, and sanctuaries that use beauty to give depth to important ideas. They use the resources of art to remind us of what matters. Their art, from their music to those cheap little keychains are meant to be instructive to us. It’s directed at making us feel things like calm, pity, and awe.”
 
  “But Yaks don’t believe what ancient Pegasi believe.” Yona pointed out. 
 
“True.” I nodded. “We may no longer believe in their myths, but the needs and longings that made us make up these stories still go on. Deep down, we’re lonely and violent. We long for beauty, wisdom, and purpose. We want to live for something more than just ourselves. Society tells us to direct our hopes in romantic love and professional success. All the while trying to distract us with news, movies, and emptying our wallets in the market square. However, these are not enough, especially when you’re awake at three in the morning.”
 
Finally, to drive the point home to Yona, I teleported us to one last place. With a click of my talon, we lay in the snow. At first, she was rather confused until I pointed towards a group of Yaks in the woods. Her eyes went watery as we witness from the bushes a family of Yaks braiding a younger Yona’s mane. “We need reminders to be good; to have places to reawaken awe; something to kick start our kinder, less selfish impulses. Universal things which need tending to like delicate flowers and rituals that bring us together.” 
 
I turned to her, “So if you were to ask me, I think the choice isn’t between the world of worship and the rational world as it is now. The challenge is to learn from these practices so we can fill the secular world with replacements for the things we long ago invented these beliefs to provide.”
 
After wiping the tear from her eye, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Discord.” Then the bell rang, and the illusion melted away back into my classroom. 
 
“Welp! Lunchtime is over,” I clapped my talon-paw. “Sorry for talking your ears off.”
 
She smiled. “Discord gave Yona new perspective. Yona not feeling lost now.”
 
“All I did was give you a nugget of wisdom,” I told her, pulling out said nugget of wisdom out from my ears. “Will that be all?”
 
She grimaced at the earwax covered nugget. “Yona thinks should get back to class now.”
 
“Suit yourself,” I shrugged before tossing the nugget into my mouth, “unless there’s anything else, you know where to find me.”
 
The Yak thanked me before heading out the door. Soon enough, my new students came in wearing football gear. I smiled. ‘Good for them,’ I thought, ‘they came prepared for learning Hobbes.’
> Smolder - On Death
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight facehoofed. “I’m not against using some mode of transport to get to one end of the school to the other, Discord. Trust me, I get how big this school is. But why in the name of whatever is in Celestia’s shampoo are you driving a tank in the middle of the hallway?”
 
  Raising an eyebrow, I lifted the sunglasses over my head. “And you don’t? Really for a princess, one would think that you would be used to being carried around in an over extravagant golden chariot being drawn by twelve underpaid guards with disgruntled eunuchs tossing rose petals everywhere you go.”
 
  Naturally, my boss is not amused. “For one, I don’t do that – I’m not Blueblood. Secondly, your ride is taking way too much space and I fear you might accidentally run over a student or two. Plus, what do you need a tank for?”
 
  I looked down at the massively awesome green machine of destruction. “Because it’s cool.”
 
  “Why? I thought you can float. For a philosophy teacher, this seems completely unnecessary and childish.”
 
  “Oh Twilight,” I leaned forward. “What’s the point of being a grown-up if you can’t be childish now and again?”
 
  “Just make that monstrosity go away and fly down the halls.”
 
  Seeing there’s no point in trying to persuade the alicorn with mental blinders on, I begrudgingly made my precious tank go away. I decided quickly not to sit around for her three-year-long lecture of not taking up space, I drifted away before she could get a word out. At the time of this particular story, the school was out for the day and I was heading back to my home dimension where a pot full of sea-butter soap curry with my name on it. At the time I had gotten out of a class that I taught Seneca in which the entire class erupted in tears. By then, I was more than ready to lay on the volcanic couch and let dinner fix itself. 
 
  However, by the time I slithered over the school’s courtyard, I heard a noise that caught my interest. 
 
  “WELL BUCK YOU TOO!” quickly followed by a slamming door. Curious, I looked down to see an orange Dragoness storming out into the open before taking flight. She flew past me for a split second, but for a moment, I saw that across her face of fury tears were streaming down. Before I could do anything, she zipped right by me. 
 
  Intrigued at what had just happened, I pulled out a pocket watch and rewound time back to a minute ago, to which he slithered over towards the student dormitory. I didn’t have to go far as I heard an argument going on. It was loud enough that there was no need for the old glass to a door trick.
 
  “…. -e the point!?”
 
  “That we’re still your friends regardless!” This voice sounded like Ocellus. “As long as we live, we’ll still be your friends!”
 
  “Oh, genius idea!” Smolder retort, “Let’s have you guys befriend a creature that would no doubt outlive you all by a couple of centuries to watch all of you die while I keep on going! That won’t backfire in anyway!”
 
  “And you think just giving up our friendship just because of your longevity is a good idea?”
 
  “You don’t get it! I maybe almost fifteen, but I already know that I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak! Do you think I want to see any of you go?! The more I get attached to any of you guys, the more devastated I’ll be when the day comes that you’ll have to pass away! Really? What’s the point of being friends with someone that won’t last beyond a century from now? Huh!?”
 
  Ocellus sounded disgusted. “I just can’t believe you! You don’t want to be friends with us anymore for something petty? Fine! Get out of my room!”
 
  Instinctively, I flung myself up to the ceiling, just in time for the door to swing open and a royally frustrated dragoness screaming, “WELL BUCK YOU TOO!” before slamming the door as hard as she could and storming out. 
 
  Now back in the present, I got a pretty good idea of the problem that was laid before me: Smolder is aware of her longevity and questions about being friends with those who don’t live as long as she does. But underlying all of this is a specific topic that comes to mind – namely, death. Stroking my beard in thought, I pondered how exactly to tackle this, especially to a student that’s in great distress. 
 
  But then, a glowstick hovered over my head. I had an idea.
 
  


 
  It isn’t uncommon that I would go about in disguise. Why I once pretended that I was a candle before Rainbow Dash’s stupidity made me blow my cover. But this particular disguise is unconventional for me. However, given how just as unconventional of the topic at hoof, it was necessary. Still, after diving into a little bit of research and training to get the personality just convincingly right, I was ready.
 
  The form I took on was that of a black earth pony stallion, no mane, wearing a pure white suit, pants, and a black-tie. And for extra effect, I made it so that only Smolder would be able to see and hear me. So, after choosing my mask (so to speak) the next thing to do is to find my audience. 
 
  Smolder, as it turned out, was in the park, sulking to herself on a bench. When I walked up to her, I noticed the birds chirping nearby. This gave me inspiration for my opening line.
 
  “Everything grieves, you know. Especially birds.” Confused, Smolder looked up at me. “They too grieve as they know about loss.” I sat down on the other side of the bench. 
 
  The orange dragoness looked at me, confused. “Sorry, who are you?”
 
  I didn’t answer right away, instead, I took out a pocket watch. “I’ve already planned to meet you, however, I’m way early.” Closing it up, I reached a hoof out to her. “We haven’t known each other until now, I’m Death.”
 
  She blinked, looking between my outstretched hoof and face. “Death?”
 
  “You know, the Grim Reaper, Oblivion, He-Who-Ends-Existence, Decay, I can go on, but just Death for short will do.”
 
  Another beat of awkward silence. “You’re Death? You?”
 
  I frowned. “Ah, you don’t quite believe me, do you?”
 
  “Why would I? I thought Death goes about in a black robe and is all made out of bones, carries a scythe thing and has a scary deep voice.” She got up. “But look at you, you look like a pony trying to sell insurance or something.”
 
  By a stroke of really good luck, a mare with her foal came walking by. We both overheard them say: “Mom, who’s that Dragon talking to?”
 
  “Don’t pay attention sweetie, some creatures are just silly.” The mother said before hastening her child away. 
 
  Thankfully, the pieces were being put together in Smolder’s head. With wide eyes, she pointed a shaky claw at me. “W-Wait… are you really…?”
 
  I nodded. “Most don’t see me until it’s their time. And before you start panicking, I’m not here to collect you, as I’ve said, I’m far too early for that. Instead, I’m here because a certain Ex-God of Chaos sent me here. Said something about giving you perspective on something that’s currently going on with you. He wasn’t very clear what it was about but that’s what I got out with.”
 
  “Discord sent you?” She folded her arms. “He sent Death himself to come to talk to me?” I nodded. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you really want?”
 
  “Honestly? To take a break for a while from my job. Take a breather, as it were.” I chuckled at this joke. “As if I could anyway. But in all seriousness, why do you think that Discord would send me for?”
 
  Smolder thought it over for a moment. “If I had to make a guess? I think he might have overheard that argument I had with Ocellus. Come to think of it, did I pass him on the way here? I’m surprised he didn’t just come straight to me and instead sends you here.”
 
  “An argument?” I tilted my head. “Over what?”
 
  She shook her head. “It’s stupid, you probably don’t want to hear it.”
 
  “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here. Knowing Discord, he wouldn’t call me for a favor without good reason to do so.”
 
  Sighing, she told me. “You know how us Dragons tend to have a long life span. Like, really long-life span.”
 
  “I’m painfully aware. You lot tend to take centuries.”
 
  “Yeah, but that’s the problem. I’m friends with a pony, a griffon, a changeling, a hippogriff, and a yak, all of which aren’t known for their immortality. The thing is, I do care about all of them. They helped change my mind that maybe this friendship thing isn’t as stupid as I thought it was. But the thing is, I think I’m getting too attached to them that if something happens where… you have to come by… I-I just don’t know what to do with myself. I know they’re my friends, but I know deep down that one day, they will have to go. How would I move on from these amazing friends that’ll die one day?”
 
  I hummed in thought. “Something tells me that’s not the only thing that’s troubling you.”
 
  “Oh gee, how can you guess?” She deadpanned. “With me thinking about the eventual death of my friends, it got me thinking about… well…” She hesitated to speak out her thoughts.
 
  “Let me guess, you’re thinking about how to spend the rest of your life and how to prepare for your own passing as well?”
 
  “Can you blame me?!” she threw up her claws in the air. “I don’t want to think about it! And you know why? Because it’s a scary thought! I know I’m way too young to think about something this morbid, but when I’m friends with those that have a much lesser life-span than mine… it just… got me thinking about my own too…” A sense of melancholy took over her, her head lowered to the ground and rubbing an arm. “I don’t want to lose what I already got, ya know? I know that we Dragons can be really possessive and all. But when you get reminded that you could very well lose everything… Especially after what happened with Cozy Glow… I just…”
 
  Humming in thought, I got up from my seat. “Come, walk with me. I have something to show you.” With that, I began to walk down the dirt path. When I didn’t hear her footsteps, I added, “Don’t worry, this won’t resolve to your own death, but rather to help illustrate my point of view.”
 
  Her curiosity hooked, she followed me. For a while, we walked in silence out of the park, down the streets of Ponyville, past the windmill, and towards a particular spot on the edge of town. Upon walking up a hill, I stopped at the very top so that she may see it. Below is a small valley, among the trees and bushes, in front of the stone ruins of a former house of worship were the gravestones. Immediately, Smolder seemed a little freaked out by this.
 
  “W-Why did you bring me here?”
 
  Instead of looking at her, I stayed in character and said. “You mortals are fascinating, if not confusing to me. So strange and contradictory you all are. Regardless of how much time you have in this world, I often run into countless many who beg me for more time. That they didn’t want to go; that they’re scared of crossing over that threshold; of what their death would mean to those they love. That you say that your life is so precious. And yet, everywhere I go, you creatures have wars – a game where soldiers are meant to die – that you murder someone you don’t like or just simply murder yourself. Regardless of what the reason is, I find mortals tend to have conflicting opinions whenever I show up. That I can be either a plaguing curse or a relieving blessing. Not that I mind, of course, but I just wish you mortals would at least make up your minds.
 
  “Yet, in all the eons and life forms that come and go, I often find some patterns here and there. Your concerns are no different. If anything, speaking as someone who assists the souls to let go of their fragile bodies, I have some perspective on these things. So, if you permit me, I’d to at least share a few things.”
 
  “Well since you had me walk all the way out here, do I have much of a choice?” Smolder folded her arms. 
 
  I shrugged. “Let’s deal with one thing at a time. Starting with the mortality of your friends.” I began walking slowly towards the graveyard. “Now, pretend for a moment that you and all of your friends were in the school courtyard one day. Then suddenly, a grand piano falls out of the sky and squishes all of them as flat as paper. Naturally, they all die except for you. Now here’s my question: how would you deal with it?”
 
  Smolder went quiet for a while. Looking uneasy as she pondered over this dark thought. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never had anyone that was close to me die before. So, I don’t have a clue how to cope with something like that.”
 
  “But suppose, let’s say, that event will happen tomorrow and there’s not a thing you could do to prevent it. If all five of your closest friends were to die, how would you think it’ll play out for you?”
 
  She sighed. “Well… I guess the first thing would be that I would be pretty angry with myself.”
 
  “Why?”
 
  “Because I couldn’t do anything about it. And then probably at the same time, I’d be really sad about it. That I guess I would cry or hide somewhere so I could be left alone. And probably avoid everycreature that tells me to get over it. As if to forget about my friends that I had a connection with. But I don’t think I could do that given how things are with them now.”
 
  I nodded. “In my experience, not many could do that either. I’ve heard some creatures who say that doing so makes them weak, but I don’t think that’s fair.” She tilted her head and asked me what I meant. “It’s unlikely anyone will ever get over their loss in any simple way. To those that indeed have a connection to the deceased, it’s the price they have to pay for the extent of their love. I’ve often seen many who won’t forget, nor do they recover. Perhaps, they don’t have to. Even when mourners feel conflicted in trying to speak well of the dead. That’s because they know that deep down, they were just as flawed and complicated as they are. Sure, they were difficult to be with when they were alive, if not downright frustrating and disappointing. However, even having doubts about the deceased isn’t a sign that they didn’t care for them. They did and still do. The price they pay is from their closeness and being close is why they love them so. It’s a consequence of something profound.”
 
  “But that’s exactly why it’s a problem!” Smolder exclaimed. “If I get too close to them, it’s just going to end up hurting me, if not them more!”
 
  I raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
 
  “Because…” She sighed, “If they were to die tomorrow, then Ocellus would go to her grave thinking that I didn’t value our friendship as much as I should have. That it would be too late to tell all of them how much they mean to me personally.”
 
  “You’re not alone,” I told her. “Most will feel that we didn’t love those who passed on as much as we ought to. That there were things we haven’t done with them or wish we shouldn’t do. Where in hindsight we could change this or that if only we could. However, I’m going to let you in on a secret.”
 
  She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
 
  “Even if you could talk to the dead to tell them that you’re sorry, or that you do in fact care for them – they already know. It pains even the dead to learn that their loved ones want to beg for their forgiveness because they didn’t love them enough. From what I could gather, much of what the living needed to say has made its way to the dead indirectly. None of them have to put their thoughts and feelings at a crucial moment because they already knew or guessed. To be fair, the deceased didn’t say anything either. I suppose that’s the nature of relationships. Most of the time, they don’t have to spell out everything because we do so much of the work in their own minds. If there was anything the dead could help the living understand, it is that their love was sufficient enough. The proof of it is that the living are still thinking about them when they have no reason to.”
 
  “Huh…” Smolder’s face scrunched up at this realization. “I never thought of it like that. But what about them, though? What happens to the countless creatures that do die? Is there an afterlife that you take them to?”
 
  I hummed at this question. “I get the impression of what you’re asking is if, in theory, your friends would be at peace when I come for them.” She nodded. “To answer your question, while you might be in the right for wondering if anyone I take is feeling alone, dejected, unhappy, angry, disappointed or resentful the living. But in truth, those that I carry go to where they are beyond all of that. Or at least, so I’ve been told.”
 
  Her eyes widened. “You mean you don’t-”
 
  “I said I carry the souls, not see to it where they head off to. So, if you are asking me if there’s an afterlife, I’m afraid I will be forever the last to know. However, I do tend to think that wherever they go, they may head off to somewhere where they do find calm. Be it some Elysium or Oblivion, either fate means that regardless, they are out of reach of being hurt by anyone or anything.”
 
  At this point, we were passing the gravestones. We weaved around through the carved stones when Smolder inquired. “Well sure, but what’s so comforting about knowing that my friends – or even me no less – have a limited time to be alive? Unless you’re immortal like the Princesses of Equestria or Discord, I doubt that anyone could find solace in knowing that the clock is ticking.”
 
  “For some, yes. But I have an opinion on the matter of immortality.” I told her. “In truth, I think that all creatures actually die twice.”
 
  “Huh? What do you mean?”
 
  “I mean that there are two kinds of death. The first is the physical in which I come along to take what is essentially you, and leave your mortal remains to rot. But the second death isn’t so much as having your soul being obliviated, but being forgotten, forever. On that idea, as long as there’s at least one soul that was touched by another, that memory of that passed soul would still live on long after they died. In many ways, those in history books are still alive, for good or ill, they are being kept alive and still converse with the living to confront them whatever is going on. I remember that in Southern Equestria, they used to believe that if you so much as speak the name of the dead, they shall live again.”
 
  “Okay, that’s all fine and good,” Smolder said, “that’s one way to cope with my friends dying, but what about moving on after that? It’s not just that I’m afraid of them dying that worries me, but what about after? Do I just make new friends until I kick the bucket? Even if I do, they won’t be like them.”
 
  Stopping, I raised an eyebrow. “And why would they? None of your friends are alike, are they?”
 
  “Well… no, but-”
 
  “So why would befriending any other soul be any different? Why would one be interested in someone that is no different than the previous one? I thought you mortals crave variety.”
 
  “That’s not what I mean!” She flew up into the air for a moment. “I mean how could I move on with someone else when I spent so much time and effort to be with them? If I did that, it’d be like I’m betraying them somehow.”
 
  I tilted my head. “So, you think that you can be with someone only when they’re physically present. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you have a brother, don’t you?”
 
  “Well, yeah. What’s that got to do with anything?”
 
  “So by your own logic, your brother isn’t really your family as he’s not around you at the moment.”
 
  “Wha- no! That… That’s different! It isn’t the same. At least I can fly to the Dragon Lands and still see him. But having someone die, you can’t go see them after all that! When they’re gone, they’re gone! How can I still be with someone that’s not coming back?! Huh!?”
 
  Humming for a moment, I replied. “What if it was the other way around? Suppose that you had died instead of them. Do you want them to not be friends with anyone else?”
 
  Smolder at first looked like she was about to reply but when she considered that, she drifted back to the ground. “Well… no.”
 
  “Why not? It’s fair, isn’t it?”
 
  “They’re not… They’re not like that. We’re encouraged to make new friends and… oh…”
 
  I nodded. “The fact remains that regardless of what happens, you won’t forget about them. But you will live tomorrow and the day after. You don’t do it out of gratitude or being cruel, but because you’re loyal to what you stand for. As well as to those that you share those values with. You can live on and still be loyal to what they meant to you. It’s not a betrayal to endure and start again. I bet that if it were up to your friends, they would want what’s good for the other. They want their friendship to grow with others too.”
 
  She sucked some air in. “Okay Death, good point. Still, what about me though? I mean, having this longevity thing and all.” I started to chuckle, and she looked annoyed. “What’s so funny?”
 
  “My apologies, the whole idea that you think you’ll just continue on for centuries without a problem is funny.” But I quickly added, “Not that you might, it’s just your attitude to it that I find amusing.”
 
  “Why’s that?”

  I continued with the walk through the graveyard. “To be fair, I do get where your attitude comes from. On the one hoof, you think that you are practically immortal because your organs are functioning normally, that your joints aren’t in pain or that you can’t die because you have some big exam coming up. To do so otherwise will screw up with your plans. On the other, whether or not you want to admit it, you’re scared of me.”
 
  “No, I-”
 
  “Bullcrap. Everything is terrified of me – and I get why. You’re scared that you might fail, or be left alone with your messy feelings, being rejected by certain individuals, telling those closest to you who you really are, or taking your dreams seriously before I show up. Am I right?” She didn’t answer. “If there is anything I can complain about you mortals is that you have these ridiculous ideas that if you somehow lengthen your lives by eating leaves, or cheat me by inventing a spell that guarantees immortality. They think that as long as they buy themselves more time, then they would have all they need to finally get something done. Otherwise, they’ll just beg on their knees, pleading for me to have at least one more day to live. Even dragons, who live for centuries that the day I come to them, they cry like infants to live a century more, as if they didn’t have enough time do anything. I swear, you mortals are so caught up with trivial things that you’ve forgotten how to live.”
 
  “Oh that’s rich coming from you of all beings,” Smolder commented. “I mean, you’re Death! What right do you have to judge about life?”
 
  Immediately, I stopped, turned to her with a look that made her take several steps back. “What right? The fact that I can never have life myself, to never experience what taste is, what true intimacy is, what feeling warmth is – and yet have mortals complain about it – to never appreciate the magic of what is naturally gifted to you. That, is insulting to me. Do you know why I brought you out here?” She shook her head. I pointed at one of the tombstones. “Take this one for example. This fellow died in 874, he was sixty-three years old at the time. He used to be one of the most important ponies in this region. When I came for him, he wept like a mare because he spent most of his life in business and politics. His life was all work and nothing else. I took him before he could experience the joys of life had to offer, simply because he couldn’t be bothered to do any of it beforehoof.”
 
  I pointed to another tombstone. “Or that mare, she died in 929 at the age of forty-four. When I came to her, she pleaded for more time because she felt regret too late to apologize to her husband and telling her children that she loved them.” I pointed at another. “Or that one, he passed away in 955 at the age of seventeen. I was there when he gulped down a bottle full of sleeping pills and realized that if he died, then he’ll be leaving his friends that were pleading outside of his room to go to the hospital. He tried to tell me that he regretted what he did and wanted to go to the ponies that did care for him. But instead of doing any of that before, he let the pills do the deciding for him, simply because he thought his friends would forget about him after he died. They never did.
 
  “In these aspects, you mortals disgust me.”
 
  “Well, what do you want us to do!?” Smolder lashed out at me. “Life's hard as it is! It’s complicated and messy, and…” She stopped for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “Ya know, as much as I disagree, Discord must have sent you here for a reason, right? So here’s my question: What would you advise the living to do before you have to come?”
 
  I thought it over for a minute, thinking about how Death would respond to that given the philosophy I know about the subject. “If you really want my advice,” I said, “you mortals got the wrong idea about time. You know how sometimes five minutes can feel like an hour; ten hours can feel like five minutes; a decade can pass like two years, and two years could go by like fifty?” She nodded. “If the goal of life is to be more meaningful or at least fulfilling, the trick is to densify your time then to try to extend it for a few more years. Young ones, especially those under the age of ten, have mastered this. They feel that their time is longer than any other in the world; that their experiences with it can feel like ten-thousand years. But the older they grow; the faster time may seem to go by because they’re stuck doing the same things day in and day out.”
 
  “So why is that?”
 
  “I think it’s because unlike adulthood, childhood is full of novelty. To them, even on an ordinary day, they’re always finding something new in the mundane. Like watching clouds go by while lying on the grass. Exploring the complexities in a zipper. Or simply getting an imprint of a coin on a piece of putty. However, as adults get older, these things become familiar to the point where they’re boring. Adults don’t get excited about the idea of eating a peach, owning an apartment or turning on a light. They know about earning money and telling others what to do, and as a result, one day blends into the next and time starts running on them.”
 
  “Okay, so the solution is to – what? Go to exotic places and have expensive, valuable things?”
 
  I shook my head. “It’s simpler than that. Even when you’re an adult, you may fall into the illusion that you know about the places and creatures you run into. But in reality, you’ve barely scratched the surface. At that point, you’re going to grow bored of a world you haven’t begun to study properly. It’s why artists help draw attention to certain things that many tend to overlook. For artists, in a way, help re-introduce the ordinary as if we’re seeing them for the first time. Artists who look at apples, oranges, grass even, and gives them the sensitivity and attention that only infants could give. Now I’m not saying that you have to make art to learn the most valuable lesson in life – to notice properly, you must live with your eyes open, and along the way, savoring time.”
 
  “So take in the ordinary stuff? That’s what you’re getting at, right?”
 
  I nodded. “Life for you mortals should be a simple affair as walking through an unfamiliar part of town, asking an old friend a side of their life that we didn’t think about asking, looking up at the stars at night, or telling a friend that you’re sorry.” A guilty expression flashed on Smolder’s face. “There’s one more story that I’d like to tell you. One day, there was once a prisoner was tried and was set to be executed. With the few minutes lift to live, the prisoner exclaimed, ‘What if I were not to die! What if life were given back to me – what infinity! I’d turn a whole minute into an age. A day, eternity!’ When he was faced with losing his life, he recognizes that even a second of time could be stuffed full of imagination and appreciation.
 
  “This is what I desperately wish  I could teach you, mortals. You could very well live for a hundred thousand years and still complain that it all went by too fast. You Smolder, should be aiming to lead a life that feels long because you managed to be filled with the right sort of open-hearted appreciation and humbled respect; the kind that any five-year-old would know how to do. You don’t need to add or take away years; you just need to densify your time with appreciation. Laugh at a joke. Enjoy a meal. Be a friend that needs cheering up and tell them you’re sorry when you might be in the wrong. Always think that if you were to die tomorrow, would you be at peace? The point of life is to do as much as you can with the time you’re given.”
 
  “Okay, I get what you’re saying but-”
 
  “Remember Smolder, time, even for a dragon, is short,” I pointed a hoof at her, “and suddenly, you’re not there anymore!”
 
  It was at this dramatic moment that I made the bell from the ruins ring, thus giving the distraction I need for her to look away and for me to disappear. Once I was able to slip away, I returned to my home dimension where an award show was going on, and to be ready to accept the award for best actor of the millennium.
 
  Of course, hours after I got my golden trophy did, I decided to check on Smolder. As expected, she returned to the school and watched as she knocked on the door of her friend. Ocellus opened it and the dragoness told her. “Hey Ocellus, can I come in? I want to say I’m sorry.”
> Ocellus - Who am I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Many Weeks Ago...


 
“Phew! That should do it.” Cracked Inkwell said, stretching his hooves from his typewriter. “I think that should be-” a staccato series of knocks interrupted his train of thought. 
 
Groaning, he set the typewriter aside and got off from his bed, “What is it? I thought dinner wasn’t until-” by the time he answered his bedroom door, whatever he was about to say died at who was standing in front of him. “What the-”
 
“Hey, sorry for dropping in like this.” Discord told him, wearing an army helmet and football shoulder pads, before diving under the bed. “But I really need to talk to you right about now.”
 
“Discord? How- Why are you-”
 
“It’s about the next lesson coming up.” He said, peeking from underneath the black and gold comforter. “It’s the one about… Ocellus.” 
 
Cracked blinked. “You mean about the one with ide-”
 
Discord hastily shushed him. “Dude! Keep your voice down, you’re going to get your readers spooked.”
 
Another blinked. “Why would they get spooked?”
 
The Ex-Lord of Chaos looked around the tiny orange room as if expecting to find something to suggest someone was listening. “It’s about how you’re going to tackle it. I mean, I get she’s a Changeling and it’s fact that she can change into pretty much anything. But… are you sure you wanna tackle the… you-know-what issue?”
 
The author rolled his eyes. “I have a little more faith that my readers are mature enough to handle something like this. Besides, I’m pretty sure that if I didn’t try to address it, someone eventually would point out and question how come I didn’t at least try to talk about it.”
 
“In this political climate? Are you suicidal?!”
 
“No! I told you, I hate politics and you know me that I’d never speak about my political views. I know that it’s impossible to do so anyway. So, trust me, I know how to tackle it in a smart, mature way that’s fun at the same time.”
 
“Well, I hope you got yourself a bunker somewhere because you’re gonna need it.” Discord remarked. “Are you sure I can’t talk you out of it? Perhaps do the next lesson with Sandbar or Rainbow Dash.”
 
But the author shook his head. “No, hard stuff first, then the rest.”
 
“Well in that case, here,” Discord pulled out a funeral wreath from underneath the bed, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He said before vanishing into the darkness of the bed.







Now Back to the Present...



When I am not teaching class, having guys night, having tea with Fluttershy or turning Celestia’s mane into a toothpaste commercial, I tend to entertain myself within my office. Sure, Twilight may have told me clearly that the teachers don’t have offices, but I made one for myself anyway. It’s filled with the most essential stuff such as a Stop sign forest for zip lines; a Mt. Kahuna jacuzzi; an art gallery and studio full of the most the most embarrassing and incriminating moments of Celestia’s life that could easily be used as blackmail when I feel like it; an ocean of huckleberry soda; Walla Walla Washington; and a relaxing library of books that haven’t been written yet.
 
Hmm… On second thought I could install the entirety of the Oregon coast just to annoy the author on vaca-
 
My thought process for redecorating was interrupted with a couple of sharp knocks. My ear conjured up a door. “It’s open,” I said as the newly installed door opened up. It opened to where a blue Changeling stepped through. “Ah! Ocellus the Encyclopedia! Just what I need! Do you think this office needs a chair that has a throne made out of swords or one that has a pile of plastic doll heads?”
 
The Changeling blinked. “Am I interrupting you?”
 
“Hmm… No, neither one would do. Either one would be too intimidating. Perhaps what I need is a distraction,” I quickly turned around to her, “quick! Distract me with something!”
 
She blinked again. “Okay… Uh, I was hoping I could talk to you before heading back home for the break. I tried talking with Starlight, but she wasn’t much help so I was hoping that maybe you could be more… well… useful.”
 
“Oh? What’s this? A problem that Ms. Know-it-all doesn’t know? I’m intrigued. What sort of problem do you have in particular?”
 
“Well, since Starlight’s council has failed, I was hoping that maybe your view with Philosophy might give me some perspective.”
 
“That being…?”
 
Ocellus sat down. “Who am I?”
 
There was a pause between us. “Uh… mind clarifying a bit?”
 
“I mean… it’s not that I don’t know my own biography, I know painfully well about my past. But lately, with me being able to change into anyone and anything, I’m getting worried, what if I change so much that I don’t have a clue who I am anymore? Even with all these transformations into pretty much anything, what still makes me… well… me? Does my mind remain the same even if I turn into… let’s say… Sandbar? If it’s not my mind and memories, my species, my gender, or even my own body – then what? How do I know who I am? I know your lesson with Haycartes is the whole ‘I think, therefore I am’ thing, but if that too isn’t what makes me… me, then what? If I’m not any of those things, then who in the world am I?”
 
Another even longer pauses between us. “You do realize what you’re asking of me, right?”  She nodded. “No, you don’t, you’re talking about trying to explain to you an idea that’s been in fierce debate since the beginning of Philosophy itself – several centuries, in fact – and you think that they would give you a straight answer to your question?”
 
She shook her head, “I’m not looking for a straight answer, Mr. Discord. I’m just hoping to get some sort of clue as to know what makes this here,” she waved a hoof at herself, “Ocellus. Maybe you don’t know either, but maybe you may have some perspective on something that’s been bothering me.”
 
Freezing time, I looked at the ceiling. “Hey, Author! Are you absolutely sure I can’t convince you in any way to set this lesson aside for another day? Forget about the politics, this is alone is a really deep rabbit hole that I don’t know I might be able to come back from.”
 
Hey, don’t be like that. If there’s any force in any universe that could not only give that needed perspective but condense centuries of debate into a single chapter and in plain English, it’s you, Mr. Discord.
 
“But how!? How do you expect me to do that? Even I don’t know how!”
 
Look to your student, perhaps the cause of all of this might also be the solution.
 
At first, I didn’t quite understand what the author meant by that cryptic statement. However, looking back at the pleading look of the Changeling, it dawned on me. There was, in fact, a way to do it. There was a way to answer this – but at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
 
Once time has been unfrozen, I told her, “With that, I believe there is a way to help answer that… but we’re not going to like it.”
 
“What?”
 
“No, we’re really are not going to like it.”
 
“What is it?”
 
I took in a deep breath. “I think the best way to tackle that question, is to allow me to go inside your mind.”
 
She froze, “What!”
 
“I know, but listen, there’s no creature or force in this universe that could answer the question of ‘Who am I’ better than you can. And the only way to help answer that is to allow me to be a sort of explorer, to find if there was any way to do the impossible. However, even then, if I do enter your mind, I’m afraid I would be powerless there.”
 
“Huh? Why not?”
 
“While I could rewire someone’s brain into thinking they’re this or that, it’s another thing when you’re actually inside. Everyone’s mind is a dimension of their own, one that’s so chaotic that my powers are canceled out, and they could do whatever they want with me if I’m in there. The last time I tried that, a certain blue alicorn whipped me until next Thursday – literally. At the same time, with me being inside your head, that means that I’m prone to learning stuff you don’t want anyone else to know. So even if you agree to do this, it would be a risk. But hey,” I shrugged, “if it kills an afternoon, I’m game.”
 
Ocellus thought over carefully of this proposal; weighing the options in her mind as if facing a very difficult true or false question. “I… If you think it would help.”
 
“I didn’t say that it would solve your problem, but just giving you a perspective on how to see it.”
 
“As you’ve said. But I’m willing to go through it if it’s alright with you.”
 
After I made time freeze again, I looked up to the sky. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”
 
Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.
 
I muttered how dumb this is under my breath before turning back to the Changeling. After instructing her to just relax as much as possible and touching her forehead with the very tip of my talon, I closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and everything turned white.
 



 
Going inside someone’s mind is like opening up a mystery box from a toy store, you just don’t know what you’re going to get inside. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what I would be seeing from Ocellus. Maybe a hive, a library, a museum, some underground dance club. But no, when the white faded, the only thing I found was a landscape that was completely ripped open. Only, not in a fun way but more of a careless, brutish way. There were rolling hills, but everywhere was mud and trees burnt to a crisp. There were trenches before me, of barbed wire and explosions. Here, screams of battle cries and pain, there an unconscious Ocellus, and over…
 
I looked back to my student, lying face up in the mud. Immediately, I ran over. “Ocellus!” I screamed. “Ocellus, wake up!” She stirred this way and that, thankfully her eyes opened and sat herself up. “Are you alright?” I asked.
 
“Wha…?” 
 
“Are you okay?”
 
Ocellus blinked as she looked around, “The hay am I?”
 
This confused me as I tilted my head. “Wow, this is serious, you don’t even know your own mind.”
 
“What!” She looked at the raging battlefield. “This is my mind?! Why is it like this?”
 
“I think this is an obvious metaphor where you are with war with yourself. This questioning about your own identity has been taken up to the level of trench warfare. These questions are taking sides and are doing battle.” I reached to scratch my head, but then it was stopped when I felt a helmet on my head. Blinking, I looked into a muddy pond for my reflection to realize that I had clothes on for once. This time, I was dressed in white, had a tin-can helmet that had a red cross on it.
 
Oh great, in this one I’m a nurse.
 
“Mr. Discord, what do we do?”
 
“What else?” I told her, tilting my helmet. “Let’s go ask them what the fuss is all about.”
 
“But,” Ocellus flew in front of me before I could take a step, “what if you get hurt? Did you say that this would be a risk for you since you don’t have powers here?”
 
“Yes, but where’s the fun in straying away like this.”
 
“I thought you said this would be a bad idea?”
 
“It may be a bad idea, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun. Now come along!” I said as I took the lead towards the battlefield. My student sighed but followed close behind me. 
 
We walked down from the hill and it didn’t take long to find the entrance into one of the trenches. The further we went, the noisier it got as the intense noises of battle rang out. Of course, the two of us had to be careful as we jumped over the mud, kept our heads low from the artillery fire, trying to make sure not to get caught among the barbed wire, and making decisions as to where to go given how maze-like the trench we entered was. 
 
It was grim, but it could be worse, mom could be here.
 
“Where are we going?” Ocellus asked.
 
“I think if we’re going to find any answers, we have to go to the source of the conflict,” I told her. “Then we can find out what this civil war is all about.”
 
Several minutes later, we finally found the source of the noise. Running around carrying crossbows and grenades were dozens upon dozens of Ocellus’s in orange uniform. Just what I expected. But unlike the original blue Changing, these were gray and all of them looked alike. At first, the copies didn’t notice us until one of them in an important-looking uniform pulled her aside.
 
“General Ocellus, thanks Goddesses you’re here! This is a lot worse than I thought.”
 
“General?” the original Ocellus asked. The other Changeling nodded. “Then… who are you?”
 
“Colonel Ocellus, ma’am,” she answered. “I will not lie, ma’am, the situation for us is desperate. Some guidance from you would be very useful to us. Come, I’ll show you what has been going on so far.” She pulled her into a hole which leads to what looked like a map room, the other Ocellus’s saluted. I followed them in. “We’ve been trying to hold onto our position as long as we could. But the Mind-Over-Body Army, the Performance by Society Army, and the Identity by Personality Army has been bombarding us nonstop. Be we have located them here, here, and here.” The Colonel said, pointed out on the map where the other armies were. “We have been enduring as long as we could, but the troops are showing low morale as we don’t have a good enough tactic to counteract these attacks.”
 
“So… What army is this then?”
 
The other Ocellus’s giggled.
 
“Oh come on, General,” the Colonel said, “We’re the Body-over-Mind Army. The absolute worthy argument to answer the big question.”
 
“And… that would be?”
 
“Why, ‘Who is Ocellus,’ of course! We have been fighting this war forever since Ocellus had begun to ask the question. Even though, we, of course, know of the correct answer, many others disagreed and have taken up arms to settle this once and for all. Which is why we’re so glad you came! With you here, you can use your skills to finally settle that we are right, and they are wrong.”
 
“Umm…” Ocellus backed up to where I was and whispered. “Mr. Discord, what they hay are they talking about? What’s the body over mind thing?”
 
Thinking for a moment, an idea sledgehammered into my head and I approached the other Ocellus’s. “Ladies, I am from a neutral party, and it seems that the General is rather lost in this. So perhaps I should help refresh her with what you represent by giving all of you a fresh look at what you’re fighting for.”
 
The other clones agreed that this was a good idea so they let me proceed.
 
“Unless I’m mistaken, this army is fighting for the argument that the body you’re given from birth till’ death makes up you?” They nodded. “Basically, they believe that the entire identity that makes up you can be summed up by what you can physically touch and see. From the face you’re born with to what your reproductive organs are, these, they believe are what you as Ocellus should be.”
 
“It is the noblest of arguments,” the Colonel in orange nodded, “after all, even when Ocellus doesn’t change into anything else but her natural form, it is the very thing that every creature judges you on, right? I mean, faces alone confirm this.”
 
“What do you mean?” the real Ocellus asked.
 
“Well, if you look at someone who say… look like this,” in a flash of yellow fire – interestingly not green like hers – the Colonel changed into an ape-like monstrosity with overgrown fur, large white tusks, and irises of lizards that stared down at her, “would you think of anything else but a monster? Or this one,” she changed into the pony that she recognized as I-swear-I’m-not-a-trotzi Chancellor Neighsay, “would you think that there would be an ounce of compassion in this form?” The Colonel changed back. “Or even this face? When you look at it, do you really see an intelligent girl that doesn’t want to fight?”
 
“But… Appearances can’t be everything. I mean, look at him,” she pointed to me, “he may look intimidating but once you get to know him-”
 
“That’s the point,” the Colonel said. “General, don’t you get it? Everycreature, even Changelings, are prone to judge by first appearances. I mean, you just said out loud that he’s intimidating. You know that Discord was turned into stone – twice – and why? Because they were afraid of him, not just what he could do, but because of how… strange he looked. However, if he made his first appearance as say… a gorgeous looking Stallion, no one would raise an eyebrow. Or even, how ponies reacted when we looked like this…” For a moment, the Colonel transformed into a black Changeling in which her hooves were filled with holes before changing back. 
 
Ouch Ocellus…
 
The original Ocellus scratched her head. “Well… I see your point but…”
 
Intrigued, I pressed on to hear what she was thinking.
 
With suspicious eyes staring at her, Ocellus looked up at the Colonel and said: “Theseus.”
 
Ah… clever girl.
 
The other her tilted her head. “What the hay are you talking about?”
 
“Once upon a time, long ago, there was once a King called Theseus, who after defeating a monster, decided to return home the long way on his ship to announce his great deed. When he returned to his homeland, the citizens there decided to honor him for what he had done by trying their best to maintain the ship he returned in. For a thousand years, they took good care of the ship, and even reenacted the voyage to honor his memory. However, whenever a part of the ship was worn or damaged, it was replaced with an identical piece with the same material it was made out of. Piece by piece, plank by plank, nail by nail, everything on the ship was eventually replaced to the point where not a single part of it had any of the original material that Theseus sailed on.”
 
“That’s a nice story, but what does that have to do with us?”
 
“If she’s right,” I said as an explosion from outside shook the room. “I believe she’s saying that there’s a flaw in your argument. Do you know that for a Changeling, your chitin gets replaced every so often, your blood cells filter out every couple of months, and even your limbs are being remodeled every second? If your argument is true, then you’re not the same Ocellus as you were when you were hatched.”
 
“Not just that,” the original Ocellus said as the bunker shook, “what if I lose a body part? Like… My wings, if I lose them, would I still be me?”
 
“Well… y-yes…” the Colonel replied rather sheepishly.
 
“Or if I lose my hoof? Am I still me?”
 
“Yes?”
 
The Original Ocellus stepped forward at the table in thought. “What about this: what if Mr. Discord were to tell me that I’ll lose every part of my body except for one, and that one I can keep. What would that be?”
 
Tempting, but I don’t think I would do-
 
“It would be the brain of course.”
 
“Okay, but what part?” Another, much louder explosion shook the bunker. “What if I lose the bit that allowed me to change, or knows what my name was, or be able to recall every book I’ve read, would that still be me?”
 
“B-But… You still need your brain! Without it, who are you?”
 
“Hold on,” I interjected, “didn’t you a moment ago say that you need your whole body to be yourself?”
 
The Colonel looked nervous as the explosions sound like they were getting closer. “General, what are you doing?”
 
“We’re pointing out how dumb this is.” Ocellus said.
 
“No! You’re supposed to make the other Armies lose the argument, not us! If you do, then-” Before she could finish her warning, the dug-out bunker was suddenly flooded with red trenchcoated Ocellus’s with crossbows. The officers by the table lifted up their hooves in immediate surrender. 
 
“Brilliant stagey, General!” One of the more important looking Ocellus’s in the red uniform came up to the original, saluting with a smile. “Going behind enemy lines and defeating them from the inside! You shall be awarded for a medal for this!”
 
“Let me guess, you’re a Colonel too?” I asked.
 
The one in red blinked. “Why yes. How did you… You know what, never mind.” She pointed at me, “We could use you right now. Now that you’re here, I can show you how we’re going about defeating the other armies.”
 
“If you say so,” I saluted before exiting the bunker. 
 
Ocellus looked at her copy in red. “So… which army are you again?”
 
“We’re the now victorious Mind-Over-Body Army, ma’am.” She smiled. “Now let’s get you over to our trench. With the fall of this army, it’ll make things easier now to face the two others.”
 
As we followed her and the other troops out, she walked out to where the Orange Army was lifting up their hooves to surrender at arrow point of the Red Army. We followed them through a tunnel for a few minutes until they all came to the other trench. 
 
From there, we found scores of the wounded being tended to. Many of them were laid down on cots or against the sandbag walls, but as far as she could see, they were mangled. 
 
“It’s been a hard-fought battle,” the Colonel in red told her, “and they did fight bravely, but in the end, things are looking up now since you defeated them single hoofed.”
 
Ocellus blinked. “How? All I did was tell them that their philosophy was faulty.”
 
“And that’s the key to victory!” Her copy said with confidence. “Defeat their argument, and you defeat the army. Now perhaps you could use your brilliant skills against the other armies as well. Follow me.”
 
We followed her copy down the trench, passing by her other copies in trench coats until we reached a curious-looking contraption on top of a hill. It looked like it was part megaphone and part cannon. She noticed that there were no cannonballs or gunpowder lying about, instead, there was another copy of her yelling into a microphone and from the other end of the weapon, actual letters and words were being projected out into the other trenches, whereby they exploded on impact. 
 
Boy… imagine if other folks used this thing to settle arguments.
 
“This here is our best weapon we have,” the red Colonel told Ocellus. “Since the other armies won’t listen to us, we have to blast them with our words loud and long enough so that they would have no other choice than to surrender. Of course, there’s a problem – the enemies adopted the same weapon.” She then asked for a pair of binoculars, once handed over, she gave them to the real Ocellus. “Take a look at it yourself.”
 
She peered to the other trenches, and sure enough, she saw a similar weapon among the two remaining armies. As soon as she put down the binoculars, one of the copies in red rushed by with paper in her teeth, giving them to the one at the weapon. She watched as the weapon was adjusted and aimed towards one of the trenches. From there, the one by the weapon looked over the papers again, took in a deep breath and began shouting:
 
“THE PHILOSOPHER LOCKE WROTE THAT WHILE WE CAN’T HOLD ONTO A SINGLE CONSCIOUSNESS OVER TIME, HE POINTED OUT THAT EVERY TIME WE GO TO BED AND WAKE UP EVERY MORNING, WE STILL THINK WE’RE THE SAME AS BEFORE YOU BARBARIANS!” Sure enough, every word of the copy’s argument was shot out of the weapon, and we watched as it flew across the sky and exploded on impact. “HE CALLED THIS MEMORY THEORY, IN CASE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN! HE SAID THAT ANYCREATURE’S IDENTITY CONTINUES OVER TIME BECAUSE YOU HOLD ONTO MEMORIES OF YOURSELF AT DIFFERENT POINTS OF TIME!”
 
‘The lungs on that one,’ I thought.
 
“Good job!” the red Colonel said, “You really inflicted some damage to… they’re aiming at us! Everyone! Get down!”
 
Suddenly, we, along with her clones dropped to the ground, heads covered just in time before the counter-argument inflicted its damage. “THAT’S STUPID!” It began. “YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T REMEMBER EVERYTHING! I MEAN, WHAT DID YOU HAVE FOR LUNCH LAST TUESDAY? OR DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN YOUR EGG WAS BIRTHED EVEN?! AND WHAT IF YOU LOSE YOUR MEMORIES? HUH?!? ARE YOU STILL YOU IF YOU GOT DEMENTIA? OR DO YOU BECOME SOMEONE ELSE IF YOU RESORTED BACK TO A GRUB?!”
 
Once the barrage ceased its fire, Ocellus sat up to find some new craters all around her but sighed in relief as neither she nor the other copies were harmed; and neither was the weapon. 
 
“Woah, that was close!” The Colonel in red exclaimed. “They really upped the firepower on that one.”
 
“Maybe a little too close for my taste,” I replied, getting up and asking my student, “you okay?”
 
“I-I’m fine… I think…” Ocellus nodded. “Who knew to have an argument in my head about who am I would be this violent?”
 
“I don’t blame you,” I helped her up. “When you’re a shapeshifter who’s dealing with a question that has plagued philosophers, psychiatrists, activists, poets, artists, writers, well… essentially everyone for centuries, things tend to get messy.”
 
“I don’t understand!” the copy who was firing shouted. “That argument should have done it! Memory should have been it! How else can you still be you without your memories? Did any of the experiences that happened to Ocellus mean nothing to them?! The day that Chrysalis was overthrown? Her friends? Or her classes that she’s made to memorize?!”
 
“Let me guess,” I inquired, walking over to the one who was shouting, “Locke’s Memory Theory?” She nodded. “Ah, a good try, but I wouldn’t use as a good weapon. They’re right in that it has problems and more holes than cheese.”
 
“I don’t know…” the real Ocellus said, “We Changelings do have good memories.”
 
“All the time?” I questioned.
 
“Well, of course, we can remember all sorts of things-”
 
“What was I doing when you met me the first time?” Her jaw hung there for a moment before closing shut. “Exactly. It’s good, but not foolproof. Yeah, memory can be useful, and thinking back to past experiences as you recall is a good try, but even then, they too are prone to be forgotten. And if those memories go, are you still you?”
 
“I… I don’t know…” She confessed, turning to the other trenches. “But there’s got to be a way to resolve this peacefully. There has to. But how?”
 
  I took a moment to stroke my goatee in thought. “Perhaps it is best to find out what the other armies want, from there, you could piece together something to end this mind war as quickly as possible.”
 
  “Maybe…” the red Colonel said, rubbing her chin. “Someone should go over to the other trenches to spy on them. Get inside their minds and how they function. I bet from there, a victory could be made! Only… who would do it?”
 
  After a pause, I held up mine and Ocellus’s arms up. “Oh! Oh! Pick us! We’re too obvious to be suspected!”
 
  The Colonel in red facehoofed, “Now that’s got to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever-” Normally with my powers I would use them to summon the stupidity stick to whack her over the head with it. However, using a fist should have the same effect. Within a moment, the disoriented Colonel said dizzily, “On second thought… good idea…”
 
  “You heard the lady!” I called out, picking Ocellus up. “The General and I are on a mission to go into the other trenches and end this once and for all!” After the Red coat army cheered, we walked out of the trench and started going around the battlefield.
 
On the way to the next army, I asked my student: “So General, are you convinced that mind-over-body argument is right?”
 
“Well… That’s just it, I don’t know. At first glance, it does seem more convincing than the other one.”
 
“But…?”
 
She looked behind her, “It’s still a good enough argument, however, I feel as if something is missing. I mean, that memory thing is alright but…”
 
“You don’t think it’s the key to know what makes you, you.”
 
She nodded. “For something that should be as obvious as asking yourself who are you, knowing that is surprisingly tricky.”
 
“I think you’re overlooking one particular question.” She asked me what I meant. “Even if you do know the answer: why would it matter? Who would care if there is a consistent you that goes on from birth to death? Because so far the only thing that these arguments are overlooking, is the possibility that you could – Le Gasp – change! As if that’s a bad thing.”
 
“But it’s important!” Ocellus objected. 
 
Swiftly, I turned around. “Why should it be? You’re not the same Ocellus that you were when you hatched, nor will you be before you go meet the great hive in the sky. I don’t get why this is scary for you to accept the fact that you can and will change be it body or mind. You learn new things, develop tastes, shift personality even – plus your memory like everyone else is faulty. So why insist on finding that one thing that makes up who you are when you’re constantly changing?”
 
“Because I don’t know!” She shouted at me, stomping a hoof. Nearby, a bomb went off, but her anger didn’t notice that. “And that scares me! I know that I’ll change eventually, and I still change all the time by appearances alone! It’s easy not to think of those things when you’re a mindless drone, but it’s another when you’ve gained a unique look, and everyone is asking what you really think! I need to know because everyone else can’t change so suddenly, so I need to figure out what makes me an individual so that I can have a voice!” She paused, looking up at me panting, she added, “Do you know what it’s like to not being asked what you wanted because a Queen just sees you as a cog in a machine? While the playing field was leveled out, I and so many others need to figure out how do we fit in a hive that’s turned upside down. For better or worse, we need to understand who we are – I need to know who I am, so I can figure out where to go from here.”
 
I knelt down to her eye level. “Now you’re starting to speak like a Philosopher.”
 
She sniffed, “Sorry I yelled at you, Mr. Discord.”
 
“Hey, I pushed you a little and you pushed back. But for now, we have espionage to do.”
 
She nodded and we continued until we found an entrance to one of the trenches. This time, the soldiers we came across were in pink trench coats. It didn’t take long for us to be noticed, Ocellus being saluted as “The General” and being taken to the army’s Colonel. The Pink Colonel was found at the front lines, preparing and giving a motivated speech to the other soldiers there.
 
“…. Yes, it will be a difficult charge but if you get past the obstacles in your way, then victory will surely be – General!” She saluted. “It’s an honor to have you here with us.”
 
“What’s going on?” the real Ocellus asked.
 
“I am giving these brave souls a speech to gain courage and remind them what they’re fighting for before we go over the top. I’m confident that this time we’ll make a breakthrough. Who are we!?”
 
“Performance by Society, ma’am!” the other copies cried.
 
An idea harpooned to my head, “Did you say you were about to remind them why you’re fighting?”
 
“Ah, yes! I was about to get to that.” The Colonel in pink nodded. Turning back to the other soldiers, she continued with her speech. “Unlike the other Armies, we’re the ones that have faced reality. And that reality is that as much as we want to believe that it’s our bodies, our minds, or personality that makes us as we are, there is a truth that the other Armies have chosen to ignore. It is everyone else around Ocellus that has a say in how she acts, thinks and feels. The society we inhabit, we’re forced to adapt so we may be accepted by it.”
 
My student raised a hoof. “So uh… to play Discord’s advocate here… How exactly does that work? You’re making it sound as if I don’t have any choice in the matter.”
 
“Do you?” the pink Colonel questioned. “If you paid attention to the rules, laws, expectations, customs of others, look into what you could and could not do – examine them and ask yourself this question: are you really free to grow up the way you want?”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“I think I have a feeling where she’s going with this,” I said and my student asked for clarification. “Her argument goes like this: when you see yourself as a filly, whose a Changeling, that’s expected to be smart, obedient and quiet; when you’re expected to act like a filly because of the bits your born with; when you’re expected to fall in love with the opposite gender; when you are expected to succeed no matter what; when you have to learn this or that thing, even if it’s out of date – are you doing these things because you wanted to, or because you have to?”
 
“Well said,” the Colonel in pink nodded. “Ocellus can not be herself when those around her cannot accept the idea that she could be what she really wants to be. Ever since Chrysalis, she has to put up a false self in which she cannot be difficult, or willful as she wanted to be – and instead, she’s forced to grow up too fast! There was never a choice, it was either comply or be denied being tolerated. Even after the Queen’s downfall, when society changed, it was still as oppressive because everycreature she runs into, she’s expected to be an angel twenty-four-seven! Thorax being in charge and going to a pony school hasn’t liberated her, it just transported her from one cage to another! All it did, was for Ocellus to tell lies to herself so it wouldn’t make the situation she’s in so bad.”
 
“Excuse me?” Ocellus questioned, “What lies?”
 
The Colonel turned to the troops. “Well, does anyone know the answer to that question?”
 
A hoof was raised, “Ma’am, Ocellus lies to herself by work and study. She doesn’t try to cram in some extra credit nor spends hours on an essay because she wants to, but because she convinces herself that she likes them for its ability to distract herself what she fears most, ma’am!”
 
“Very good,” the Colonel nodded, “and the other?”
 
Another hoof raised, “Ma’am, because of the culture of not just Equestria, but other nations that her friends are from, she is forced to be self-censoring. She thinks she cannot express her worries, interests, or curiosity of her own identity. As a result, Ocellus puts up a façade of denial when asked directly and even joins in when her friends shame those creatures in the press so that it would shield her from any risk of being spotted, ma’am!”
 
With a raised eyebrow, I turned to my student who had a look that was a mix of shame and embarrassment. “T-That’s not tru-”
 
“And like that, you’ve proven our point, General.” The Pink Colonel cut her off. “Ocellus is finally waking up to the realization that society – be it friends, family, and everyone else – has given her a script for her to follow without her consent. By winning this war, we’ll bring our revolution to the front of her mind. If we could overthrow the other Armies, we can finally have Ocellus not give a crap about what anyone else thinks and have her realize who she is. Now, are you with me!?”
 
The soldiers cried out in solidarity, however, my student, seemed distant. “What if…” she began but stopped.
 
Knowing that she probably has something important to say, I put my talons in my mouth and whistled as loud as I could to get their attention. “Oi, Clone army! Your general has something to say to you!”
 
The Colonel in Pink told the real Ocellus to give her thoughts.
 
“What if… What if they’re right?” There were shocked gasps in the Army. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, all of you brought up some good points here and there. However, … I don’t think that just because a bunch of creatures tell me what to be, or that they have an expectation of who I am, it doesn’t mean that I have to be that, nor would I not be accepted for being something different either.”
 
“Uh…” the Pink Colonel blinked, “In plain Equestrian please?”
 
“I mean, my friends, when they interact with me, they have no reason to demand that I become this or that. If anything, if they tell me something like a criticism, it isn’t because they want me to be different, but to point out something about me that I would overlook. And yes, I admit that I put on masks for different creatures, but I do so not to deceive them, but so that I could be on the same level as they are. I’m not denying that you’re right, I’m just saying that someone ought to put a hoofnote next to your Army’s name.”
 
My student looked up to me, seeing my ears perked up. “Mr. Discord?” She asked. “Are you okay?”
 
“I sense that somehow, somewhere, there are dozens of readers that looked over this conversation, and in a blind rage, they only focus on the politics of this small part of the story instead of a whole.”
 
The Pink Colonel blinked. “Okay?” she turned to the troops. “Alright! Load your crossbows! It’s almost time!” We watched as Ocellus’s copy loaded their weapons and the Colonel put one hoof on the latter and looked at her watch on the other. A moment later, she levitated a whistle into her mouth. Before they could charge headfirst into a firing squad, I asked them which army they are going to attack. “The foolish Identity by Personality Army.”
 
After looking down at the nurse’s uniform, a muse slapped my brain. “We’re coming too.” I picked Ocellus up and let her ride my neck. “For the Pink Army!”
 
“The Pink Army!” the other soldiers joined in the cheer. 
 
A sharp, pricing whistle cut through the air as the Colonel in Pink yelled out “Charge!” With that, I and the rest went over the top.
 
My student held on tightly, as she came to her senses to asked politely while running at full speed over a minefield, bushes of barbed wire, flying arrows, and passing explosions: “DISCORD! WHAT THE HAY ARE YOU DOING!?!” 
 
“I don’t think your clones will shoot us,” I told her as I leap over a crater. “I’m wearing a medical uniform, something that has been singled out as untouchable during the history of war for some bloody reason!”
 
A barrage of arrows went by us. “You’re going to get us killed!”
 
“We’re almost there!” I said as I made a madmare’s dash to the other trench. As soon as I hopped in, we were greeted by soldiers in Purple, loaded crossbows aimed at us. “Hello! We come in peace! Bring us your women!”
 
“Hold on… is that…?” one of the Ocellus’s in purple asked, lowering her weapon. “It is! It’s the general!” That one turned to the other copies, “Go fetch the Colonel, tell her the General has been saved!”
 
“Wow,” I said, letting my student down and commenting, “you know, with a war that’s going on inside your head, you seem to be fighting in every army at the same time. Isn’t that a bit treasonous to yourself?”
 
She, however, gave me the death glare. “Oh ha-ha, I think I already got the symbolism behind all of this by now.”
 
Minutes later, an important-looking Ocellus in Purple arrived, astonished. “Oh, Goddess… it really is you!” She hugged. “We were almost giving up hope that you may ever return! How did you get here?”
 
“The nurse did it.” One of the purple soldiers said, pointing at me and I posed to look heroic. “This maniac took the general from the enemy side, carried her across No-Ling’s-Land and survived. He’s a hero!”
 
“Indeed, he is,” the Colonel in Purple went up to me, and offered a hoof to shake. “You should be given a big, heavy medal for your courage. Now that the General is back with us, this war is as good as won.”
 
“Perhaps, if I may suggest,” I said, “maybe you could refresh the dear General with what you stand for. After all, she has been gone for a while and she might have forgotten about it.”
 
“You’re right!” she turned to the real Ocellus, “Come, let’s go to my quarters over a drink.” We followed her through another maze, and just when I was about to complain how obvious this metaphor for her mental confusion was to my student, we’ve reached the place that’s unsurprisingly underground. Inside the modest-looking hole where not even a Hobbit would inhabit, there was a tea kettle brewing. “I know it’s not much, but we’ve been struggling ourselves.” The Colonel told us. “However, once this war is over, we can get back to more civilized things. Sit down, I’ll get you some cups.”
 
We sat down and the purple Colonel prepared our tea break. “So…” my student began, “would you kindly tell me what this particular Army stands for? I had a rather long and tiring day.”
 
“Absolutely.” She said, uncovering a bag of sugar from a hole in the wall. “Honestly, while the other Armies have their good intentions, we all know that we are the most correct. Because, we know the truth what makes Ocellus, Ocellus. It’s so easy and so simple, really.”
 
“If that were so,” I pointed out, “why is everyone else fighting you?”
 
“Because they’re ignorant.” She sighed. “For really: body, mind, and society will get you nowhere without one crucial element that the others have overlooked. And that is personality.”
 
“What in particular?” the real Ocellus inquired.
 
The Colonel in Purple placed our cups on the table. “Our values, feelings, and character. That’s what makes an individual, you know? Do you know why everycreature can look at the same thing and come up with completely different answers? It’s because of how they perceive it. And how do they perceive? It’s from their experiences as they went through life. In fact, I think Hume put it so elegantly: ‘We are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable swiftness, and are in perpetual flux and movement.’”
 
“But that can’t be the only thing, is it?”
 
“Let me put to you this way,” the Colonel began but was interrupted when the teakettle screaming. Taking it off the heat of a dozen candles, she proceeded to pour our share. “Let’s suppose that a demon was to come to Ocellus and was given a choice: that she has a choice between remembering everything but feeling and acting very differently; or feeling and acting the same sorts of things but remembering nothing. Which one would she go for, really?”
 
My student took a moment to consider this. “I… I guess probably go for the second option.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Well… I guess because… most of my friends and family know me from my behavior. If I in some way acted weird, they would think that I’m some imposter.”
 
“Exactly, General,” the purple Colonel smiled. “Any sort of creature would have the same memories as another, but how they judge them, act or say in response is only seen through their lenses. They might get upset over something that you’ve let go long ago. They might look at your most precious memory and don’t think it has any meaning to them. Or they could hear the same joke that you heard where Ocellus would roll on the floor laughing, they might stare blankly and go ‘huh… I don’t get it.’”
 
Now I admit that out of all of them, this particular argument seems foolproof to me. However, as Ocellus’s copy added a spoonful of sugar into her cup, my student didn’t look that convinced. “It does make sense,” she began, “but… that can’t be it, isn’t it?”
 
“What more could there be?” the purple Colonel shrugged. “Personality is everything.”
 
“Is it?” the real Ocellus questioned. “While it’s a good argument, I can’t help but notice a flaw in it. What if my personality were to change, even if slightly, would I still be me? I remember a time when I was convinced that ponies were evil and believed it in my heart. However, as time went on and found out that the ‘monsters’ we were trying to contain were just as complicated as we are, that they were afraid of us, and that there’s more to this world than just hunting… I changed. For the better, I may add.”
 
“Now that’s interesting,” I spoke up, taking a sip of mental tea, “even hearing the other arguments in your own mind, you’re still unsatisfied.”
 
“Why must this be so confusing!?” My student sulked into her hooves. “I know all of them had good points, and I know they come from my own thoughts. But it’s like they…” she paused. For a long, solid three minutes, she paused. Slowly without saying a word, she lifted her head. In her eyes, I could see something had finally clicked. Then, suddenly, she stood up. “Mr. Discord, I need your uniform, now!”
 
“What?”
 
“And you,” she pointed at the purple cornual, “get me a stick. A big one.”
 
“Uh… y-yes, General!” The Colonel saluted and immediately went to fetch the stick. 
 
“What has gotten into you?” I asked.
 
“Take off your uniform,” she demanded, “I know how to end this war! But I need it to get the other armies’ attention.”
 
“Unorthodox way to do so by telling your teacher to strip, but very well.” I took off the nurse’s uniform and the other Ocellus rushed in with a pole in her hooves. My student set to work to tie both sleeves to the pole before rushing out into the warzone. 
 
I rushed after her as she went over the top, waving my uniform like a flag, screaming: “STOP! EVERYONE! STOP NOW!”
 
Amazingly and unrealistically, the explosions, the arrows, and the war-cries quieted down. I ran after her in the middle of the torn-up landscape where she stopped. “What are you doing?” I asked her.
 
“Just you wait.” 
 
Soon after, the other armies became curious that their lone general was standing in the middle of a battlefield waving a white flag. My student demanded to see all the colonels from all the armies to meet her on the spot. Eventually, all four of them, the Orange, the Red, the Pink, and Purple, walked out into No-Ling’s-Land. They saluted. 
 
My student took in a deep breath. “Before I say anything,” she began, “I have spent the whole day going from one army to the next, trying to find out what each was fighting for. In hopes that maybe… I could finally realize who I am. But in truth… I owe each one of you, an apology. For being so blind.”
 
All of them blinked and looked at one another. “But General,” the one in Orange said, “I don’t understand? How are you blind?”
 
“Do any of you recall of the story of the blind ponies and the elephant?” 
 
“Well yes?” the Red one raised an eyebrow. “What does that got to do with anything?”
 
“Ooh…” I snapped my paw. “I realize what she’s talking about here.”
 
“You do?” all of them asked. 
 
I went up to the red one, “If you know the story, then please share it with the rest of the class.”
 
“Okay…?” she blinked but recited. “There was once upon a time, five blind stallions who happened to find an elephant. Each one felt a different part of the creature. The one who felt the elephant’s side said, ‘I think I found a wall. It’s wide and solid.’ ‘No,’ said the one that felt its trunk, ‘I think I’m feeling a snake. It’s long, tube-like and flexible.’ ‘You’re both wrong,’ said the stallion who wrapped his hooves around the creature’s leg. ‘This thing is clearly a tree.’ ‘You’re all blinder than I am,’ said the one that played with the creature’s tail. ‘This thing is a fly swatter.’ ‘Are you all sure you feel the same thing?’ Asked the last stallion who felt the elephant’s ear. ‘This is a gigantic leaf for how flat, wide and flexible it is.’”
 
“I think that’s how I have been dealing with this.” Ocellus said. “As I went to each army, and heard all of your arguments and counter-arguments, I only ended up disagreeing with all of you. But it’s only until now that I realized why. I have been disagreeing with the conflicting individual pieces, instead of looking at it as a whole.”
 
“What are you saying?” the Colonel in pink inquired.
 
“That I’ve come to realize the truth. All this time I have been trying to figure out what makes me… me. Was it my physical body in its ways that it can transform? Was it my memories that solidify me from day to day? Was it the group of individuals I interact with that make up me? Or is it my character? All of these arguments are conflicting, and yet, all of them have one thing in common.”
 
All of the other colonels looked at one another, confused. “And what’s that?” the Purple one asked.
 
“Up until now, I realize that I am my body that others see me and grow from; that I am made up of my past experiences and memories; that I am made up of what others expect of me; that I am made up of what I feel and act. It was never about one piece that makes up what I am – it could never do that. Just like how this world isn’t made up of pure chaos or pure harmony, so too am I not just made up of one thing.”
 
“Ah, it looks like now that you’re ready to face my ultimate question, little miss.” I smiled, leaning forward to the real Ocellus. “Who are you?”
 
She smiled back. “I am Ocellus.”
 
And with that, a bright white light engulfed us all.
 



 
When we returned, my neglected office turned into a red licquorice field, gently swaying in the breeze. Nearby, the door to the school waited. I took in a deep breath, letting the chaotic magic flow back into me. “Ahh… It feels good to be back!”
 
Suddenly, I felt my midsection being hugged tightly. Looking down, my student, with tears of joy in her eyes told me, “Thank you so much, Mr. Discord.”
 
“Awe, it’s not sappy O’clock yet. Speaking of time, aren’t you heading out to go back home for the break?”
 
“Oh!” She exclaimed and zipped to the door. However, before she left, she turned to me saying, “That actually helped a lot. Thank you.”
 
“Like I said, come back anytime if you need actual wisdom.”
 
“I will.” She said. After we exchanged our goodbyes, she left my office. 
 
Now, where was I…? Oh yeah! Figuring out the chair for my office.
> Gallus – Envy and Jealousy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Between the two of us,” I told Fluttershy as we walked out of that school dance… Enema Ball…? Amputee Ball…? The name of a dance party that I like so many of you didn’t bother to remember. The party just ended with the students causing a minor earthquake with a Yak dance. “Spike wearing a costume of himself while his face speaks through his mouth is something that I wouldn’t have done.”

“Why?” She asked me. “It wasn’t chaotic enough for you?”

“There’s a difference between being chaotic and having a lack of imagination. If Spike really wanted to be a proper DJ, then he should have worn one of those cheap unicorn with googly eyes costumes with a lot of heavy gold jewelry for some reason. Like everyone else is doing.”

“That’s just DJ-Pon3.”

“See! You get it!”

She sighed before we exited out of the school. We walked out over the drawbridge across the moat when Fluttershy said, “Still, at least things turn out alright. And I know that dances aren’t your thing-”

“On the contrary,” I told her, “I’m not against dances altogether, just the ones where everything goes according to plan and is perfect. This one, while it’s no Grand Galloping Gala incident, was still entertaining. And that’s good enough for me. Sure, Yona made a mess of things but that’s what made it all so sweet and interesting.”

“I’m just relieved that everycreature had fun.” She told me. But then she suddenly stopped.

At first, I didn’t know why until I leaned over to see what she was looking at. Her eyes were aimed towards the trees, but there was a very specific spot in which shadowed in the branches was a griffon hunched over. It didn’t take a stuck-up consoling Detective to piece together that it was Gallus, but what caught our attention was his body language. Hunched over, back against the school, his face buried in his talons. He was breathing shakingly which meant that whatever happened, it was hitting him pretty bad.

“I should go talk to him,” Fluttershy said aloud, opening her wings.

“Are you sure? Maybe I’m not that good with picking up subtle social cues, but he looks like he’s not interested in talk- and you’re gone.” No sooner had I finished that sentence that she had flown over to the tree.

So, I slithered over through the air to see what was happening when Fluttershy started talking. I didn’t quite pick up what was going on, but it seemed that Gallus was in denial of something. When I did get within earshot, I heard something along the lines of: “I don’t wanna talk right now. I’m trying to deal with a couple of things, and I don’t need anycreature’s help.”

“Help with what?” I asked, curling around the tree branch.

My student looked at me with sharpening eyes. In the dim light of the night, I caught something. It was very small, and it shimmered for only but a brief second. But what I saw intrigued me. In his eyes, there was a shimmer of green, which could mean one of two things – either this was Chrysalis, which is impossible because I know exactly where Lady Insanity is – or…

“Just leave me alone!” He snapped at us before flying away into the night.

“Gallus!” Fluttershy called out and was about to go after him, but I stopped her by hanging onto her tail. “Discord, something’s wrong and we need to go after him!”

“Not yet,” I told her. “I know you have some speech planned out, but this is not the moment to teach. After all… I think I know what his problem is.”

“What?”

“I saw it, in his eyes. He gave a look that I know anywhere. I don’t know what caused it, but I have a pretty good idea of what’s going on right now. He’s both envious and jealous at the same time.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Envious? Jealous?” She looked up to where Gallus disappeared off to. “But why? What was wrong? Did someone hurt his feelings?”

“Don’t know, but by the looks of it, he’s pretty hurt alright. He needs to be a good deal calmer before he’s ready to listen to anything. But don’t worry,” I told her, “when he’s cooled off, I’ll go talk to him. I think I’ve spotted an opportunity for a teaching moment.”

“You think you can handle it?”

I smirked, “Oh trust me, what I know, I think he needs to hear.”





During my time teaching philosophy, I’ve learned that students tend to have a routine. For example, Smolder and Ocellus disappear every Friday with a tea set; Yona smashes a tree every Wednesday evening, and Gallus goes to Sugar Cube Corner for breakfast. So trying to find him wasn’t much difficulty on my part.

At exactly 6:50 in the morning, all year round, Gallus would walk in, ask for a chocolate muffin, pay for it and get out. He remained faithful to this practice like an automaton on a Germane cuckoo clock. Even after his encounter of envy the night before, he walked into the bakery, asked for a chocolate muffin and paid a few bits for it. It was at that point that I decided to make my entrance.

No sooner had he walked a little bit towards the door did he stopped to hear the sound of a music box slowly playing “Pop Goes the Weasel.” Gallus looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. He must have expected for something to suddenly pop out and scare him like Luna-in-a-Box. But when the tune finished – nothing seemed to happen. He gave a few looks around, shrugged, and proceeded to take a few more steps.

“Why are you screaming?” I asked as I stood behind him.

And predictable like his schedule, he screamed.

It startled him so much he nearly dropped his breakfast.

“Don’t! Do that!” He told me; his free claw clenched over his barrel. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Maybe I’m still not used to these social norms,” I started, “but I might be under the delusion in thinking that what happened last night was considered rude.”

He frowned, “You’re still on that?” At that moment, I could see the shining flash of envy.

“Well since you’ve probably a little more chilled out now, I was hoping you could try to explain something in your own words.”

My student raised an eyebrow. “Over what?”

“What is the difference between Jealousy and Envy?”

He blinked before his eyes shifted. “W-Why do you want to know?”

“Because I saw something in you,” I said, slithering around him like a cobra. “Something that I’ve seen a few times before.” I leaned in closer. “You have a particular monster inside your head right now that’s eating away at you. And no, I’m not talking about some brain-eating parasite. Rather something that is easily detectable with having green eyes. Or to put it simply, you realized something that you want but can’t have.”

“A-And why would you care?” He asked, jumping over me. “It’s none of your business.” He started to walk away.

“Ah yes, because nocreature in the history of the world that has ever desired something and suppressed it had turned out great.” I flew up next to him while we exited the door. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

My student raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you already know the answer?”

“Of course,” I nodded, “but I want to know if you do too. So, what’s the difference between Jealousy and Envy?”

Gallus huffed, “This is one of those teaching moments where unless I go along with it, you’re never gonna go away, right?”

“Pretty much.”

One annoyed groan later, he answered while we went down the street. “Aren’t they two words that describe the same idea? That feeling when you want something, but deep down you can’t have it for whatever reason. Like, say that you’ve worked all day and all you get is a bit while someone else does the same amount of work and gets more.”

“You’re on track. And while, yes, those words are indeed related to one another like brother and sister, they aren’t exactly the same being. Envy, from what I can get out of, is the emotion to covet something that someone else has. Jealousy is the fear that whatever something they have is stolen away from you.”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“No, you got the spirit down but it’s a little confused.”

“Oh, let me guess.” He rolled his eyes, “You’re basically here to tell me that if I do have those feelings then I should feel guilty instead of having them in the first place. That it’s irrational, stupid and I’m a bad griffon for having the audacity of holding onto them. Right?”

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

My answer was enough to nearly make him trip, nearly dropping his muffin again. “Wait- what!?”

“Yep! I’m here to tell you that being envious is actually a really good thing, but you seem rather lost on what to do with it. Well, have no fear! Because the Philosophy expert is here to help!”

His beak hung open for a good few moments before saying: “Okay, now I know you’re nuts! There’s no way in Tartarus that it’s a good thing.”

“Ah, but do you know where that attitude comes from?” I questioned him. “Why do we think that Jealousy is a bad thing? Have you ever wondered how come that idea became so popular in the first place?”

“Not really, no.” Gallus shook his head.

“Field trip time!” I exclaimed, capturing us in a bubble and on my watch I pressed the rewind button on time. As things went backward, I told him, “Then let me take you back to the moment that the idea of Envy is bad came from. For this, we’ll have to go back in time. Back before Princess Bookworm was born, back before Luna was grounded on the moon, back before Equestria was founded at a time when the tribes were not quite united yet.”

“Uh… Mr. Discord?”

“Hm?” I noticed all the dinosaurs running backward so I pressed pause. “Okay, that’s a little too far back…” I pressed forward a little to try to get to the right scene in history before pressing play and our time bubble popped. All around us were trees of the Everfree. “There we go! Welcome to the year 99! Before Banishment of Nightmare Moon!”

“So, what are we doing here?” Gallus questioned. “I don’t think Ponyville was even a thought at this point in… wherever this is supposed to be.”

“True. For this, we’ll have to go up.” I said floating. “The lesson starts in the sky.”

“Can I at least have breakfast on the way?” He asked, spreading his wings.

While he ate, along the way we flew upwards towards the clouds, in particular, to Cloudsdale.

“There’s a reason why I’ve brought you here,” I told him, “do you remember when I brought up Nietzsche?”

“When you left us alone on the tallest mountain in the world?” He asked between bites, “How can I forget?”

“Well, among the stuff he wrote, he argued that having Envy is essential for both individuals and societies as a whole. Only, he referred to Envy by using a Prench word that works just as well in Equestrian – Resentment. It emphasizes the humiliation we face in what we desire but cannot have. In one of his books, ‘On the Genealogy of Morality,’ he reveals the stunning conclusion on both Envy and Jealousy. To do so, he presents a radical interpretation of history. However, I thought that it would be more important to show you.”

Soon we were above the cloud line and there was Cloudsdale in all its former glory. A gigantic city filled with towering white cloud columns, temples, racetracks, army barracks, palaces, forums, and crowded streets of Pegasi as far as the eye could see in every direction. While we fly, I began to explain to him: “Nietzsche opens up the argument that once upon a time in ancient civilizations, what was deemed positive or negative was defined in a direct and simple way by the powerful. In particular, those who controlled the military, or the nation’s financial, political, and religious authority, got to decide what actions and behaviors would be deemed as admirable.”

Gallus raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“Oh, lots of things. Thanks to these aristocrats’ attachments and tastes, stuff that was considered ‘good’ became a byword with what the powerful had valued. Things like winning everything, making lots of money, being confident in the bedroom, knowing everything, and securing fame were praised. Because these aristocrats were in line with their own made-up virtues, the powerful at this period slept quite well at night.”

My student looked down at the other Pegasi below in the crowded streets. He frowned. “I guess that kinda makes sense. But what about everyone else? Just because they’re not rich doesn’t mean that they’re bad.”

I smiled. “Many of them here, would agree with you. Luckily for us, this did not go unchallenged. A major part of the population you see was subjected to the whim of the very few on top. For they were too weak, too powerless and downtrodden to rise up in a revolution against them. This mass of stallions and mares who Nietzsche would sometimes with a dark sense of humor call them: ‘The Herd.’ These ponies increasingly wanted to avenge themselves against the powerful somehow. But at the same time, they lacked any means to do so without having power or money.”

“Sounds like a creature I happen to know,” Gallus said dryly. “But I still don’t see how this has anything to do with Envy.”

I stopped, hovering over a forum. “That’s because we’re about to witness the moment when things were turned up-side-down. For at some point, many historians still aren’t sure by who or how, someone in the Herd came up with an ingenious, if not insidious idea. Since these huddled masses can’t attack the powerful physically, they would use a more effective weapon. Do you know what that weapon is?” My student shrugged and asked me what. “Guilt,” I told him. “The likes of which that left countless aristocrats to lay awake in their beds at night. They came up with the ultimate weapon in this class warfare. And the army to lead that war, made their appearance here. At this very forum back when they started out so small.”

“Who?”

I told him to descend so that we can see.

There is a corner of the forum where a bearded Pegasus with a small gathering grouped around. We stealthily made our way so that we would get a listen to what he has to say. The closer we got, the more apparent what kind of fellow this guy preaching is. He had a long, curly, unkempt beard with some desert robes waving a stick about.

“Hear me!” The ancient entertainment began. “You Pegasi of Romane, covet not the behavior of the powerful! They are not good! Do not look to them for their greed for glory or money. Nor touch the unclean lust of whores. Nor seeking the knowledge of false prophets. Nor to seek fame through vanity! For they shall be the keys to the kingdom of suffering! Those who have power, do not look to them, but to the poor! They, the majority of you, are the path to paradise. For it is they who are noble in poverty. You who are not corrupted by teachers, for you are the sincerest of us all. You who walk not in the paths of lust, for you are chaste. And you, who are unable to rise in anger against your enemy, for you have mastered forgiveness! Be comforted you who are oppressed, for those who have dominion over you shall know justice!”

“Okay, clear off!” A Pegasi praetorian guard shouted, pointing a spear at him. “That’s enough from you!”

“Praise Celestia, as my message has been heard!”

It was at this moment I decided to pull Gallus away.

“What the hay was that about?” He asked.

“What you’ve just witnessed was the beginning of what made those upper-crust ponies unable to sleep at night. From this moment on, the Herd would take their revenge by assaulting their consciences. A key to this overthrow started – at least to Nietzsche – the ideology that came from the cult of Celestia. This cult, for the philosopher, has brilliantly used their weapon of guilt to their advantage as a frightening instrument of revenge. Dreamt up by the weak so that they could make the strong feel guilty for their advantages that they have.”

“So that’s it?” My griffon student questioned, raising an eyebrow. “They managed to change everything just by making a few ponies guilty?”

“Ah! That is the cult’s genius strategy! To use euphemisms, they simply renamed the things that once were the bad stuff as everything associated with the powerful. All the while, sanctifying everything good with what the Herd was identified with.”

“What’s a euphemism?”

“Simply put, it’s the method of twisting the language into something more… presentable. To lie without being able to lie, as it were. Under this new moral scheme, being flat broke was turned into ‘noble poverty.’ Being uneducated became ‘sincerity.’ Not being able to bed whatever that walks changed into ‘chastity.’ And even not being able to take up revenge or justice on those that wronged you became ‘forgiveness.’ Because of how envious over what the Herd couldn’t have, the cult made the powerful feel untenably guilty because the paradise in the sky now belonged to the weak, the meek, the chaste, the poor and the persecuted.”

“Let me guess.” He rolled his eyes. “As soon as they managed to convince everyone to switch the meaning of good and evil, Envy was changed into a bad thing so the cult couldn’t be overthrown again, right?”

“You know this game!” I chuckled, eyeing a mosaic on the wall. So taking a claw to cut into the layer of reality, I stepped into the mosaic, gesturing over to my student to follow in all my squarey glory. He followed after me, he too turning into cubes.

“Well, you could say that Nietzsche was almost impressed by this power grab by the cult. Especially how they used language as a tool to take control of what was impossible to move…. Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Truth be told, he frowned on the side effects that were unleashed upon civilization.”

“Such as?”

“Well, he once wrote, in an irritable tone, ‘The stallion of Ressentiment is neither upright nor naïve, nor honest and straight with himself. His soul squints; his mind loves dark corners, secret paths, and back doors.’”

“So, in other words, by removing envy, you also remove being honest with yourself?”

“Oh, the Apples would shout, ‘No duh Sherlock!’ But yes. To the philosopher, the psychological health of both individuals and society depends on being able to resist belittling what one wants but can’t have. It involves resisting the urge to deny the gaps in one’s life for the sake of inner convenience. For him, it is always better to say what one wishes to be and have than to twist one’s entire personality to avoid discomfort.

“Oh! And speaking of discomfort!” I said before freezing the mosaic for a good thousand years, give or take a few hundred before being moved into a history museum in Manehattan before cracking out of it and falling over onto the floor. “Ah, that’s better.”

“What the hay just happen!?” Gallus asked politely to the echo of the empty museum.

“Well, I don’t want to pay extra for the time travel so… We took a long way home, but hey, we’re back… I think. Now, where was I again?”

“Something about not being honest with yourself,” my student answered, shaking off the dust, “and being genuine about what you feel and want, I think?” At this point, he was slapping the side of his head for a cloud of dust to come out of his ear. “So, was that Nietzsche guy advocating for what those rich and powerful had in the past before the cult came about?”

“Not really. But I can see why you might think that. His criticism seems harsh, especially towards the cult. You have to remember that the philosopher himself was never an aristocrat. He constantly lacked money, chances to get laid, an audience, real friends even. However, despite his suffering, he was committed to being honest with himself. He never shrinks away from admitting that he would love to be more heroic and braver but lacked that talent and skills to do so. Now, with that in mind…”

With a clap of my talon/paw, the museum’s walls shook and contorted, corners folded in on themselves, columns bent over, the floor flipped over and the ceiling turned under until the setting changed entirely to that of the school dance from last night. We found ourselves being cradled in a chandelier above the dancers.

“How the hay did we get here?” my student asked, looking all around. He noticed that we were at the point in the dance where Yona had rejoined the ball and was now teaching the school how to make a mini earthquake. And at a critical moment, we spotted Gallus of the past storming off, to which, I snapped my talon to freeze time.

“So, with all of that in mind,” I told him, slithering out and floating towards the other Gallus that was heading towards the door. “Tell me, my student, now that you know what envy and jealousy are, and where the idea came from, what is the cause of getting green-eyed?” I questioned, “What exactly do you feel you want but couldn’t have?”

My student glided down to the floor. “Mr. Discord, why did you bring me here?”

“Because for two reasons. Firstly, I think this was the very moment when that envy hit you so hard, so personal, that you couldn’t confront it about it. This was the moment, I think, was when you did the unwise thing and ran away from that part of yourself you desired. You were presented with something that you couldn’t bear: to be honest with yourself. Now, what exactly could it be?”

While Gallus stayed silent, for a brief moment, his eyes quickly glanced over towards the answer. I looked over and spied a particular pair – Sandbar and Yona dancing together.

Ah, now it’s all coming together.

“You know what?” I told him, “You don’t have to tell me. I can see it in your eyes, right now, that green-eyed monster lurking. Chances are, you were probably taught at a young age to be ashamed and guilty of having that emotion. Such a pity, really?”

Gallus sharpened his eyes at me. “What do you mean?” he asked bitterly.

“Envy, my student, is an important emotion that exists in everycreature for a good reason. And that reason? That feeling you have right now is pinpointing at what exactly you want. Do you hear that whisper in your mind? It’s a call to action that should be heeded. To be listened to. Because it contains an important message about what you ought to do for the rest of your life. Look past your humiliation, and you will the clues as to what you might do next.”

He folded his arms, this time taking a longer look at the couple on the dancefloor. “Okay, fine! I am envious! I got it bad, so what do you want me to do about it!? I’m already too late to do anything at this point, again.”

“If I were you,” I replied, pulling out a blank black book out of thin air. “I’d use this.” Handing it over to him, I explained: “This is an envy diary. Every time you feel that emotion that pesters about what you want but is out of your reach, write it down. Because the more you do so, the more you’ll piece together a future you that’s trying to get out. Once you identify what exactly you want, then you could, as Fluttershy would put it, take baby steps towards it. Sure, maybe you won’t get who you have a crush on, or get rich, or have respectability overnight. But if I were you,” I leaned in, “I’d take more realistic, manageable steps towards that version of your life you’re attracted towards.”

Gallus sighed, “Okay but… what about now? Yes, there is something here that I want to have… but can’t… not…” he opened a wing towards his friends.

“Which leads to my second reason why I brought you here. I’ve given you a rare, second chance. From now on, Gallus, it’s time for you to do something far more productive. You need to become more diligent, careful student of your most persistent envious feelings. It’s trying to tell you something.” Leaning up, I readied my lion’s paw to snap, “I suggest you start listening.”

With a snap, everything moved again. From the corner of our eyes, the other Gallus had stormed out. “So, you're envious,” I told my student, “now, what are you gonna do about it?”

Gallus looked between the couple on the dance floor and the other-self that walked out. He looked down at the book in his claw and sighed. “You’re right… I should have been more honest with myself. Especially with them… But it’s not gonna be easy.”

“Maybe you won’t get what you desired,” I told him, “but no one has ever made progress by not even addressing what’s wrong and asking what to do about it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Discord,” he nodded as he walked towards Sandbar and Yona while I made my escape before creating a time paradox by running into myself. So, I hopscotched towards the next day.





I didn’t hear anything from Gallus until lunchtime when I heard a knock on my classroom door. So, taking my sushi bar with me, I opened the door with my tail. He blinked. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not really,” I told him, flying a prehistoric monstrosity, “just sitting down for lunch. You?”

“Well… I’m gonna make this short. I just wanna come by and say… thanks.”

I stopped, “Over?”

“What we’ve talked about. I was talking to Sandbar and Yona all night and… well, once I’ve managed to open up the fact that I was jealous, they helped me out. Not in a way I expected to, they’re gonna be going on a date soon, but… let’s just say that they gave me a sense of direction. I still have a way to go, but at least the lesson you gave helped me figure out what exactly I should be doing. So… thanks.”

I smiled. “Hey, if you’re in need of wisdom, you know where to find me.”

He thanked me once again, and I returned to making lunch.
> Sandbar – By Fate or By Free Will
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

This portion of the anthology starts with me about to throw a rock at a cat in a tree. Since I’ve read an article regarding quantum physics and having a foal making a decision based on rolling a pair of dice as the most logical way of whether or not that a “Realist” quantum probability exists, it lead me out to the outskirts of town, rolling a pair of dice and getting ready to toss a stone at a cat in a tree. Then, before I could make a curveball towards the singing feline, I heard a knock. Putting the predictable outburst in the comment section on hold, I turned around to find the door of my classroom right behind me. 
 
“It’s open,” I called out.
 
The knob on the door jiggled a little before the door swings upwards, detaching itself from the doorframe and floating up into space. Walking through was a student of mine, Sandbar, who stuck his head and watched the door going up towards the stratosphere. He then took notice of me. “Mr. Discord? What are you doing?”
 
“Being bored,” I replied, tossing the rock over my shoulder and missing the tree. “Unless you have some better idea of how to spend my time.”
 
“Well I don’t know about that; however, I do have something that I’m curious about.”
 
This might be promising.
 
“That being…?” I asked, waving a paw at him to get to the point.
 
“Can you explain to me what the whole Fate or Free Will thing is about?”
 
Ah great, another complicated subject that I have to explain in plain Equestrian. 
 
Then again, I don't have anything better to do…
 
“And why would you want to know?” I asked.
 
“I don’t know…” he shrugged. “Just something that I’ve heard about, you know, with some mythologies saying that we’re doomed by fate and others saying that they want to express freedom of choice. So, I thought I’d come and ask you to help clarify some things.”
 
“Very well.” I rubbed my paw/talon together. “So, what do you know about the subject?”
 
“Not much really.” He told me. “All I know is that either we all have a choice in who we want to be and do, or that choice is an illusion and everything we do or are about to do is set in stone.”
 
“Ah yes, the constant battle between Libertarians and the Determinists. With perpetual arguments that continue on even after the author of this story dies.” I slithered over to my student. “If anything, from my point of view, this debate is actually kinda funny to me.”
 
“Really?” Sandbar raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
 
“Well, before I can get to that, let’s take a closer look into what this whole debate is all about.” To this, my toe tapped, and a movie screen, a projector, and a couple of lawn chairs popped out of the ground. “You like superheroes?”
 
Sandbar blinked. “Well… yeah?”
 
“Take a seat, I wanna show you something.”
 
So laying back and pulling on a cord to turn off the sun for a few minutes, the projector turned itself on. “Ah Supercolt,” I sighed as we watched the buff stallion on-screen with his red undies on full display of his costume while beating up some aliens. “The pony of steel. Faster than a speeding arrow. More powerful than the Friendship Express. Able to leap over Sunbutt in a single bound. And the most overpowered thing to ever exist.” I turned over to my student. “So from what you can see, is Supercolt responsible for making his own decisions?”
 
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “In this, yeah, he can make his own decisions.”
 
“Even to do something naughty?”
 
He frowned. “He could. I mean, in here, Supercolt could make bad decisions. He didn’t have to defeat aliens in here, he could be dating Lotus. Yet, here he is, beating up aliens.”
 
“Alright, and how about this.” Looking back at the screen, the image of the hero punching an alien in the face froze, zooming out to a where a pen was touching upon his shading. It went further back until we could see an artist at work at his desk. “So in this, is Supercolt able to make his own decisions?”
 
“No.”
 
I grinned. “Oh? And why not?”
 
“Because here, Supercolt isn’t real, he’s just a character that the artist made up and is making a comic about. What he does is in that artist’s hooves.”
 
“Funny how quickly you changed your opinion,” I commented. 
 
He rolled his eyes. “C’mon Mr. Discord. Even I know that Supercolt is a fictional character, he doesn’t exist, so this argument doesn’t hold any weight.”
 
“No?” I asked before the film suddenly changed. This time, it was to us looking at… us watching the movie in real-time. Sandbar had to rub his eyes as he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. From what was on the screen, it was shot from behind, giving the infinity effect on the screen as it was us looking at an infinite amount of us’s. He looked over and back to the screen several times – even waved a hoof out to see the screen copying his every move.
 
“What the hay am I looking at?” he asked.
 
“Now.”
 
“What?”
 
“We are looking at now.” I gestured over. “Everything that is happening now is happening now.”
 
Sandbar looked at the screen, scratching his head. “This is so weird. How is this happening?”
 
“Give it a second,” I told him, conjuring up a bowl of popcorn, “the answer is coming up.”
 
While we watched, the camera zoomed out of the way, dissolving into a void of white when suddenly words in Times New Roman appeared as it continued to zoom out even further to a screen that was describing this scene and even further back, notes about today’s lesson. And further back to a computer screen that has the image of a sand dune at night with blue folders on the left side that were right next to a Google Chrome with three Microsoft icons including Excel, PowerPoint, and Word. Those blue folders that were squished together between those icons and the typing words read “School Notes,” “Traveler’s Story Co” and “Backgrounds.” It continued to zoom out to a point of view shot of fingers typing away at a laptop keyboard, a blue shirt, and behind the screen, orange walls with various objects including a TARDIS on top of a tower of books, a black-and-white painting of mountains, an open closet that was in a mess, a music stand, and a large wooden walking stick with the face of a native carved into it.
 
I turned over to Sandbar. “What the actual buck am I looking at?”
 
“The story,” I told him, “from the point of view of the author that’s writing my words as I speak them. Oh! Since we’re here, watch this.” I cleared my throat. “Cantaloupe, Rabbit, oxymoron, Citizen Kane is overrated, three-point-one-four under the sea… underwear, Christmas, nebula, ndugjkdrklufgenwdskfajgnkjscgijsodnfkojnvjah. See.” I waved over to the screen. “Isn’t this fun?”
 
Then I noticed it said the words:
 


Hey Discord, stop messing around and get back to your obviously traumatized student. Plus, I think someone is already writing a long comment about me breaking the fourth wall again.


 
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, fine, Mr. Killjoy.” So I returned my attention to my student, who by now was curled up in a ball, rocking and muttering the phrase, “I think therefore I am,” over and over again. Well, at least we’re off to a good start. “You seem nervous at this idea. Why?”
 
He shook his head.
 
“C’mon, you can tell me.”
 
It took him a good five minutes or more for him to respond, and in the meantime, I turned off the projector and switched on the sun. I waited for him to stop rocking and giving a billion-mile-long stare. “I don’t want to think about it.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because… if everything is already planned out for me, then are you saying that I don’t have any say in what I wanted to do? I have no say in how I want to improve my life? The friends I wanted to be with? The cutie mark I got, is that something that I worked hard for, or because something wanted me to? That I’m nothing but a puppet for something else? That my life is personally being controlled by something that I never once had a say in? I don’t want to think about it… It’s a really scary thought.”
 
“Oh, what do you know, a pony that can get easily spooked over something that isn’t in their control, just like with any other being that happens to have a brain that jerks their irrational side around like a puppet.” I said, turning to the reader, “Determinists, take notes.” I returned my attention to him. “Sandbar, look at me. You can have your extensional crisis later, for now, you need to ask yourself a more important question in all of this.”
 
He did look up, “A-And what’s that?”
 
“Why?” My student tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Why would anyone declare that we are all free or all enslaved by fate? Why would someone fight to the death over the idea that we’re either making all this up as we go or that all of history is nothing more than a written novel where there’s a clear beginning, middle and end? Isn’t it a little strange? Isn’t it a little curious? Or even, is it a little…” I leaned in, “funny?
 
“So… why do you think that is so?”
 
“Uh…” Sandbar shifted his eyes, in search of an answer but it was clear on his face that he was struggling to find one. “Because it’s… true?”
 
An annoying buzzing was heard as I pressed a red button. “Wrong-o. This entire debate has been going on for so long, that many have forgotten why these ideas were formed, to begin with.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“To put it in plain Equestrian for you. This whole fight becomes much more intriguing and relatable if you change the question: is the idea of Free Will or Fate more or less relevant… to you.”
 
“Me?”
 
I nodded. So I lead Sandbar off set and onto a tropical beach, before he could ask how we got there, I answered: “You see, depending on how you see your own life, one of these arguments could offer you up as a… well, putting your life into a frame, so to speak. Where this all comes from, is from comparing the ideas of two, different levels of psychological mentalities.”
 
“Which are…?”
 
“On the one paw,” I led out my right arm, “you have aspiration. These are the kind of folks where they grew up with such levels so high, they’re convinced that everything about life is easily changeable as long as they make it so. They’ll be the first to tell you that they can achieve anything at all simply by exercising their will power. That they could become anything they want as long as they work hard enough or develop the right skills to accomplish it. From careers to income, relationship and prospects, these things are obedient to their decisions to change.”
 
“But what’s wrong with that?” my student asked.
 
“On the surface, nothing much. It’s a beautifully naïve idea. It’s the kind that motivation books try to cram into your head until blood shoots out your nose. However, if left unchecked, if they find things don’t go as they hoped, then they’ll have a conniption over the fact that it didn’t go according to plan.” 
 
I stopped and pointed. “For example: take this colt right over there.” He looked and his eyes went wide at the sight of seeing his younger self in front of him, but his past self doesn’t notice us. We watched as he and what I assume to be his family helping out baby turtles crawling towards the sea. “This little guy is lucky enough to have a choice in which determines his own destiny. As we’ll see here.”
 
The younger Sandbar looked over his shoulder to notice three other baby turtles going the other way. He looked between the barrier that his family had constructed and the few that were crawling in the wrong direction. A moment later, he got up to gallop over before the birds nearby could catch them, turn them around, and follow them towards the ocean. So busy with this, that he didn’t notice that he earned his cutie mark. 
 
“So, why did you do that?” I asked my student. “Out of all the things that you could have done, like staying with your folks with a whole bunch of other turtles, why did you go off to save those few?”
 
“Because… well…” Sandbar took a moment to find an answer. “I wanted to. I saw those little guys going the wrong way and nopony was noticing. If I didn’t do something, those turtles wouldn’t have a shot at life.”
 
“But by making that choice, you got your cutie mark at… I don’t know, saving sea turtles or something. You could have gotten a cutie mark for pretty much anything else. Surfing, sunbathing, be a contestant on Survivor even, yet, you go out of your way to save these few animals from becoming some bird’s meal.”
 
“It was a wakeup call for me, Mr. Discord.” He told me. “My cutie mark stands for being selfless. To think of others in their time of need. And maybe I could only help a few, but it makes all the difference in the world to them.” 
 
“Ah-huh,” I lifted my claw that was glowing. “And suppose I would offer you to change this so that you would get a cutie mark in something else, would you?”
 
Sandbar recoiled at the suggestion. “What! No! I would never give up what happened to me for anything. This helped me shaped to become who I am.”
 
I put my continuity changing spell aside. “I see. But I must point out that this came out because you were given a choice. But what about a time when you didn’t have one?”
 
“No! I’m not going!” We snapped our attention towards a Sandbar from the not-too-distant past inside a home with ocean memorabilia. The past Sandbar clearly upset at an older stallion with dregs in his mane stomped his hoof. “I was going to go into surfing, dad! And suddenly you’re sending me to a school without asking me?”
 
His father sighed. “Sandbar, I promise that this will be good for you. From what I could gather, the School of Friendship is what you need now more than ever.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because… I’m getting worried about you.” He said, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “There aren’t many ponies your age around this part of Equestria, and I know that you want to have a connection with those that are at your level. If anything, I think this will be a huge investment for you in the long term. You’ll be surrounded by students your age, and I’m told you’ll get to meet a wide range of characters that would give you a variety.” His son sulked. “I know it’s not what you want, but I think it’s something you need.”
 
“Dad…” The younger Sandbar frowned, “I had plans and…”
 
“I know, but all I ask is to trust me on this. All I ask is that you would at least give it a chance. Can you do that for me?”
 
He sighed, “Fine… I’ll try, but I won’t forget that you did this without me saying yes to it.”
 
As he stormed off, I turned to my present student. “So even when you weren’t given a choice, would you change it?”
 
Sandbar shook his head. “No. Turns out, dad was right about the school in the end. I did get to meet my friends and even got to meet you.”
 
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere with this lesson,” I told him. “But here, you were quite upset. You said so yourself, you had other plans. You were going to do something else than attend Princess Bookworm’s school. Why?”
 
He shrugged. “Because, as the other me said, I had plans. I was going to take up surfing. Stay by the sea, you know? I was comfortable where I was. However, looking back now, Dad was right in taking me out of that and giving me something that I didn’t think I needed – friends. Real, relatable friends that cared about me and I do the same for them.” 
 
I nodded. “Since you understand the aspiration part, allow me to introduce you to the other side of the argument – the Defeatists.” With a snap, our surroundings changed into the gray lands of the old Griffon kingdom. To the ruins of the Griffonstone. I continued my lecture by walking by those dumpy houses with Sandbar following behind. “These guys on the other claw don’t see any point to those who have aspiration. To them, they readily declare that whatever responsibility they have is already set into stone by forces outside of their control. Everything is predetermined by their parents, their school, their government, bosses, the news, and so on. That it is all settled by everyone and everything – except themselves.”
 
“That sounds like a sad way to live.”
 
“Oh, no doubt about it! The result of this is that anyone seduced by this idea turns into underachievers and pump themselves with enough self-hatred to power the Storm King’s blimps for a thousand years. However, just like how your life was fueled by aspiration, being defeated by life doesn’t just happen. There are reasons why some would adopt that philosophy. For example…” 
 
I pointed, and my student looked over to a sight that made him gasp. In front of us outside of town, was a young Gallus sobbing his eyes out before two stones with the dirt that was freshly covered up. 
 
“Oh Goddesses! Gallus!” Sandbar tried to gallop over to comfort his friend in the past, only to go right through him. Stopping, he turned around, and regardless of what he said or even waving a hoof into him, he was like a ghost. “What the actual hay! This is cruel, Mr. Discord!” 
 
“Why blame me? These are but the shadows of things that have been – as the saying goes.” I told him, walking past the crude shovel. “But I brought you here to make a point, and it is this.” I waved over to the sobbing Gallus. “What you see is an example of the birth of a mentality that the universe doesn’t bow down because you said so. If you were to ask him, he would say that there was nothing he could do to prevent his folks from dying. To try to fight against it was pointless. The prime example of having something be completely out of one’s control.
 
“So even then, let me ask you, Sandbar, if I were to rewrite what has happened here, would you let me?”
 
My student was silent for a very long time. He sat down in front of Gallus from the past in deep, uncomfortable thought. “I…” he finally said. “I don’t know. It hurts to see him like this, nocreature should lose their parents like this…”
 
I raised an eyebrow. “But…?”
 
“As much as I don’t want him to suffer like this… I don’t know if it’ll be fair for me to make that decision.”
 
I purred. “Now that’s interesting. Why?”
 
“Because… even if I want you to undo this… it’ll be no better to leave it in my hooves to change something this significant in his life. For all I know, maybe the Gallus I know, if given the chance, wouldn’t want to change anything. Because if I did, it would be just as unfair to let his parents die.”
 
“Maybe. But let us look at another situation, where your friend was given a choice.”
 
The scene rippled and shook until it changed to something of recent history. This time outside of a dumpy house in a dumpy neighborhood where a grown-up Gallus stood before the vulture griffon himself – Grandpa Gruff.
 
“You’re offering me to do what?” Gallus from the past asked.
 
“I know, I know,” the older griffon said with a grunt. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have anyone go at all. But given how fragile things are, having you be sent to Equestria is our best bet for us.”
 
“But why me? You could have chosen literally anyone else like uh… what’s-her-name? Gabby? If the point is being sent to a School of Friendship, why not send her?”
 
“Unlike you,” he pointed, “she has a real job. But if you go, you’ll be provided with food and shelter for nothing. That, and we’d get paid just by you going there and attending classes. I don’t care if you’re forced to recite poetry, or bake cupcakes, or whatever the nimby-pansy ponies do, if you go, you’ll have to just grin and bear it.”
 
“But-”
 
“Or would you rather be out in the streets again, especially when winter is coming?”
 
The two of them went quiet for a long moment. 
 
Then Gallus sighed. “Whatever.”
 
While Grandpa explained what he has to do, I started walking away. “Now isn’t that interesting?”
 
My student raised an eyebrow as he followed. “What do you mean?”
 
“Even when presented with a choice, he acts as if he doesn’t have one.”
 
“What? But didn’t you hear what Grandpa Gruff said? If he refused, he wouldn’t have a place to sleep or anything to eat and he would be on these streets.”
 
“True. However, he was still given a choice. He could have said no anytime. Sure, Grandpa Vulture was outlining the consequences, but did you notice that he didn’t force him to make that choice? It’s almost as if the events of the past have a strong influence on whether or not they have a choice that might scar them psychologically for life!” I said, slowly turning towards the reader again. “Libertarians, you better be taking notes too.” Then I returned to my student, shattering the illusion as we entered into Ponyville. “So, make sense?”
 
“I… guess?” He said, but there was a look on his face as if something was missing. “But what was it that you said earlier?”
 
“What?”
 
“That you think that this whole debate thing was funny?”
 
“Oh!” I grinned, happily chapping. “Now we’re getting somewhere!” I said, handing him a pair of sunglasses. “Here, put these on.”
 
Sandbar raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
 
“So that you too may see the truth,” I said, putting a pair on.
 
He hesitated for a moment before grabbing them and putting the glasses on before looking around, confused. 
 
What we were seeing through those sunglasses was a world that was in black-and-white, but everywhere there were lines upon lines of a golden rope that connected us and everyone. If anything, it looked like the work of a giant spider that had one too many drinks of Applejack’s fermented cider. Here, there were lines that seemed to stretch on for miles limply on the ground. There, there were ropes that tightened like cables on a bridge. My student and I got a good look at ourselves as well, to see the ropes coming out from us where some were pretty loose while others were tightened. 
 
“Mr. Discord? What is this?”
 
“You know,” I started, “out of all the philosophers out there, the Stoics came the closest.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“Once upon a time, back when the Pegasi used to have an empire, they used to print a certain goddess on the back of their coins. She held a cornucopia that was overflowing with crops in one hoof, and a ship’s rudder in the other. They called her Fortuna – Fortune herself. They believed that this goddess, whenever she felt like it, could grant you incredible blessings one moment and then just as suddenly take it all away the next.  This belief became influential to the Stoics. So much so, they describe the nature of fate and free will in a famous imagery. 
 
“They say that we are like dogs who are tied to an unpredictable runaway chariot. Our leashes are just long enough to give us some leeway but short enough that we’re never out of the mercy of the chariot. If they fight against it, they will be strangled.”
 
“Okay…” My student raised an eyebrow. “So, what the hay does that have anything to do with all of this?” He asked, waving a hoof out.
 
“You see these ropes?” I asked him. “Think of these as our leashes. Every creature living, including gods like myself, and even the author, is tied to a terrible force.”
 
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
 
“Consequence.” I answered. “Be it by our own actions or someone else that directly affects us, there’s always a consequence for good or for ill. These ropes you see are things and folks that bind us. The tighter the rope, the more control someone has over us. Even if you get it loose and you have room to choose, even this too can affect your mobility like the dogs and the chariot metaphor.”
 
“So… You’re saying that the best way to live with this,” my student pointed to his ropes, “is to be passive regardless what happens? Even if it’s unfair?”
 
“Oh, far from it.” I told him. “What I find funny about this whole debate, is that philosophers have argued for centuries on whether we have a choice or not, that they have completely forgotten an important idea.”
 
“Yeah?”
 
I leaned forward and grabbed onto the rope that connected us, tightening it. “Unlike the dogs, you and I have something that they don’t. In that, we do have a choice in how we react when our wills are constricted. Unlike the other animals, we could reason, even guess where that metaphorical chariot will go. We can adapt, even into slavery, to increase our sense of freedom by allowing a good amount of slack between what we want, and what we can’t control. Because of reason, we could adjust our wishes when they are irreversible conflict. For the only choice, in the end, isn’t the events themselves, but choosing how to react to them. And you know what else if funny?”
 
I asked, letting go of the rope, “Even this, is never set into stone. Even consequence, as powerful as it is, does wax and wane. There’s no such thing as permanent freedom or permanent slavery. Or to put it best,” I said, taking off the sunglasses, “‘Nothing lasts in this wicked world. Not even our troubles.’”
 
Sandbar took off his glasses. “You know, there’s something oddly comforting in that.”
 
“Well, I clearly talked long enough.” I told him, “But I think that should cover more-or-less everything.”
 
He smiled, “Thanks Mr. Discord. So, uh… can you bring the door back? I still have to go to our study group. I’m pretty much late as it is.”
 
With a whistle, the door popped out of the ground like a toaster. My student thanked me and went through the door. 
 
Now with that out of the way, I flew back to the same spot at the same tree where the same cat was still stuck in. Picking up a stone, I played catch with it in my paw, thinking back to the original problem at the beginning of all of this.
 
Then, the answer came to me.
 
“Oh TheGrandNil,” I sang-said, “you ever heard of Schrödinger’s Cat?” I asked, lifting up my paw aiming towards the tree and
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 1) - On Democracy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many don’t know this, but I love cafeteria food. Really, I do, the plastic trays you pick up, the lunchmares that look dead inside, how everything is kept warm and gooey. Especially when, on the day of this particular story, they were serving my favorite foods. Delightful things like: be be Bleep be,	Bleep Bleep Bleep,	be Bleep be,	Bleep Bleep be,	be, Bleep; the succulent Bleep,	be Bleep be,	 be Bleep,		be Bleep,	 be be be,	be Bleep be be,		 Bleep,	be be,	Bleep be,	 Bleep Bleep be; with a fresh bowl of Bleep,		 be be be be,be be,	be be be; which is preferred to be dipped with a be be,  Bleep,	be be be; a high pile of be Bleep salad; and a plate of cold be Bleep Bleep Bleep,	Bleep Bleep Bleep,	Bleep be Bleep,	be with whipped cream. I still don’t know why ponies and everything else is disgusted or flees away in fear with what’s on my tray. They really ought to try some of it.
 
Eventually, I moved to my preferred spot which is a plaid table floating around the room in zero gravity. I was almost done with lunch when a pink Hippogriff came within the orbit of the table. “Hi Mr. Discord,” she greeted with one claw waving and a notebook in the other.
 
“Silverstream? Don’t you have lunch to tend to?” I asked, putting the pixelated food in my mouth. 
 
For a moment, she looked like she was trying very hard not to hurl, however, she swallowed and said. “If you have a moment, I was hoping I could ask your take on something.”
 
“During lunch? Why is it that students tend to come to ask for my help when I’m eating?”
 
She shrugged. “I dunno. But if you don’t mind, it’s kinda important.”
 
I raised an eyebrow. “How important is important? Are we talking about ‘I’m going on a date soon and don’t know what to wear’ important; the ‘I don’t know who I am and what my purpose in life is anymore’ important; or are we talking about ‘the villains of the past have united and are trying to take over Equestria again’ important?”
 
While she pondered over this, my boss’s voice came up on the intercom: “Discord, please report to my office, Discord, my office.”
 
‘Odd,’ I thought, ‘I’m sure that I haven’t done anything worthy of a friendship lecture.’ So with a snap of a talon, I transported myself, the table and Silverstream over to my boss’s office. “What did I do this… what happened to you?”
 
The only way I could describe Twilight at her desk was as if Anxiety was given a body, ran a marathon, sang an opera, survived a tornado, slapped a crown on its head and told that it had to be Twilight Sparkle. Although there was the expected stuff like paperwork everywhere, rare books sprawled in every direction and charts were crossed over with other charts with red threads and pins that look like a drunken spiderweb. And there in the middle of it all was my boss that had twitchy eyes and mane in curls. 
 
“Oh, the usual stuff.” She replied, giving the kind of smile as if she’s seconds away of turning me into a hardcover book. “Just getting ready to transfer from principle to Princess of all of Equestria.”
 
“I thought you were that already.”
 
“The title! Yes! But taking on the responsibilities twenty-four-seven is a completely different matter! I mean, there’s so much to consider here. Economy, education, military, taxes, agriculture, I can go on, but there are so many things to consider and figure out how it’s going to be done that I’m at a loss at where to start.” 
 
“So you’re here about government too,” Silverstream spoke up, “funny, I was going to ask Mr. Discord the same thing.”
 
“You are?” Twilight blinked.
 
“Well, since I am technically royalty, albeit fourth in line since after my Auntie Novo it would be my cousin, then my dad, then me. However, this got me thinking, suppose for whatever reason I do end up being Queen, what exactly would I do? Should I change something about it? Then I thought I’d come to you to ask you if there are other ways to rule a country.”
 
“Ah-ha…” I stroked my goatee in thought. “So, from what I’m hearing is that both of you are asking me the same thing. What’s a good way to rule? Understandably since eventually, you two might have a throne.”
 
“It’s not just that,” Twilight told me, flying up to the table. “Even when I’ll eventually rule Equestria, what’s the best way to do it? Knowing Philosophy and Political theory, there are tons of interpretations of not only how to rule but who should have power and how much? These might be fun to think about on a sleepy afternoon, but I’m going to have to face them by the time Celestia and Luna transfer their power over to me.”
 
“Oh! I haven’t thought of that!” Silverstream jotted something in her notebook. “How many types of government are there anyway?”
 
“Nine,” I replied, “if you’re including the ones both of you know.”
 
“Why nine?”
 
“Let’s count them.” I said, “There is the Monarchy, aka, royalty should be the ones to rule. Then there is the Constitutional Monarchy, where the royals are more of a figurehead and the real power is with another group of ponies. Then there’s the Republic in which a small group that represents different parts of the country rule. Then there’s a Democracy in which everybody is in charge and decided by voting. Then there’s an Empire in which a single guy is in charge while the groups are more like advisors to him. Then there’s Communism in which only small communities are in charge of their own lands. There's also Dictatorial rule in which just one guy has absolute power. Anarchy in which no one’s in charge. And then there’s the impossible one.”
 
“Which is…?” Twilight inquired.
 
“Utopia.” I told her, “Given how things turned out in this universe, I’m afraid it’s pretty much impossible at this rate.”
 
Silverstream looked up from her notes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Discord, but with all these other governments, I’m not sure what you meant. Do you have a visual to show what you’re talking about?”
 
“And hold on,” Twilight added, “why is Utopia impossible here?”
 
“For one, I can sum it up with two words,” I replied, “Starlight Glimmer.”
 
“Oh…”
 
My student looked over her notes. “Mr. Discord, I’m not sure about what you mean by some of this stuff. I mean… like the whole Democracy thing or the Communism. These things sound odd to me. I don’t know how some of these would work in practice.”
 
This gave me an idea. “Come closer to the table,” I told them, “I think I can provide an object lesson.” 
 
While my student came willingly, Twilight was hesitant before she took a seat at my floating table. Then with a turn of a cup and flipping the soup sideways-up, the table rumbled, clattered, and clanked before my boss’s office faded away. In its place, planets by the trillions and even further that look like home were everywhere. Each one has its number on a tag like discounted shoes.
 
“Discord?” Twilight asked, in awe at what she was seeing. “What is this place?”
 
“See these planets?” I asked. “Every single one you see is a different universe. The planet below is ours,” they looked down. “There are countless universes here, each having their own timeline and they have an endless amount of possibilities.”
 
“Like what?” Silverstream inquired. 
 
“For example, that one over there,” I pointed to one of them, “Universe: 3857405760673721-58-C, in that one, Sunbutt was the one that turned evil and Luna sent her to the Sun for a thousand years while she ruled Equestria. Or that one,” I pointed at another, “Universe: 8532972017389543-83-V, in that one, life is pretty similar to the one both of you know, except everyone and everything is a fish. But not every difference is that dramatic.” I pointed to the planet next to us. “Universe: 4659321789569261-76-A, the same stuff happens like the one below, the only difference is that Twilight is completely bald.”
 
Twilight had a look of disgust while Silverstream giggled. However, my boss recovered. “So wait, if that’s true, then which one of these is the-”
 
“The one where you and your friends are human teenagers in a high school setting where the only way to it is through the mirror portal?” I pointed a tail. “Down there, Universe: 5830662345928346-12-E. Sadly, it’s one where there’s not a version of me in it. But thankfully there are others.”
 
“Okay…” Silverstream looked at her notes. “So, I guess that these universes have these different forms of government?”
 
I nodded. “Yep. It all depends on which one you want to see first.”
 
“Okay, I guess we can start with a Democracy. The idea of everyone ruling sounds interesting to me.”
 
“You got it!” I said, taking ahold of my plate and turning it. As I did so, the worlds went by like gumballs in a machine until we stopped at one particular planet. Universe: 6493629489069436-80-O. “First stop, the Final Debate!” turning my soup bowl sideways-down, the lunch table came falling through its atmosphere where Silverstream and Twilight were screaming for some reason. Soon, we crashed through an important-looking roof and landed between a stage and an audience. 
 
“Could we NOT do that!?” my boss scolded, and I shrugged.
 
“Where are we?” Silverstream asked, rubbing her head. 
 
“Ponyville, Equestria. Same time, same location. But in this universe, Equestria had long given up its ideas of monarchy and instead has gone the other way and became a democracy. And today, we’re in luck because we’re in time to witness the final debate between two candidates that the country will be voting for next week to become the next president.”
 
After Twilight shaken the dust off of her, she asks, “So in this universe, who’re the candidates?”
 
“AND NOW, MARES AND GENTLECOLTS,” A booming but familiar voice spoke over the audience, “INTRODUCING THE FINAL DEBATE BETWEEN OUR TOP CANDIDATES FOR THE NEXT PRESIDENT OF EQUESTRIA, PLEASE WELCOME SHINING ARMOR FOR THE TROT PARTY!” 
 
A spotlight lit up on one side of the stage, in which both Silverstream and Twilight noticed a white unicorn stallion in a suit walking up, smiling and waving to the cheering crowd as he went up to a podium. Behind him, a long banner with his image in blue and white lit up.
 
“NOW TO DEFEND HER SECOND TERM ON BEHALF OF THE CLIPITY-CLOP PARTY, PLEASE WELCOME CELESTIA EVERFREE, PRESIDENT OF EQUESTRIA!” 
 
From the other side of the stage, another spotlight where a tall white alicorn in a suit, also smiling and waving as she took her position behind a podium where a banner of red and white lit up showing her image. There were cheers from the audience too while Celestia gives them a shining smile. 
 
“AND NOW, FOR THE MOMENT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!” the announcer said, “HERE TO ACT AS REFEREE BETWEEN THE CANDIDATES TO PREVENT THEM FROM TURNING THIS DEBATE INTO A BLOODBATH, IS ME! DISCORD!” 
 
Then from the ceiling where we made a hole from, a giant bald eagle with another me in its claws came swooping down towards the stage in which he made a superhero landing, thus getting the loudest cheers from the audience.
 
“What an entrance!” I applauded. “Very hard on the knees though.”
 
The other me bowed, with a microphone in paw, he said, “Thank you! Thank you all! And welcome to the final debate between Shining Armor and Celestia. Such an audience we have here – oh? What’s this?” He looked at us, and hopping off stage, he greeted us, “Well what do you know? It’s another me! Let me guess, Universe 465932178956261-75-A? What has brought you all the way here?”
 
The microphone was shoved in my face. “To put it simply,” I replied, “I’m here to show these two what Democracy at its best is like in action.”
 
“A very pandering response! Give a round of applause everyone!” While the audience was making my student and boss blush, the other me pogo-jump back on stage. “Now, after months of narrowing down, it all comes to this. Before we get at it, I’m going to lay down some ground rules: each of you will get a turn of a couple of minutes to give your position on certain topics. After which, you two will go back and forth for a while until we move on to the next topic. For my part, I must judge that you both stay respectful and don’t let the conversation go wandering off somewhere else. Stay on topic, don’t call each other names and no hitting below the belt. Are we good?” After the other two candidates agreed to this, the other me starts off by asking how either of them, if elected president, would improve the country.
 
Starting with President Celestia… President Celestia… that leaves a weird taste in my mouth the more I think about that.
 
Clearing her throat, she starts: “Let me just say, that in my first term, we have seen tremendous progress in domestic and foreign policy. We have made peace with the Changelings. We have made our economy more humane to both the consumer and the employer in which not only has there been an increase in jobs but working conditions and products have improved. Among other things, by next year, we shall be opening a new School of Friendship in Ponyville in which we invite creatures from all over the globe to learn and share the ideas of kindness, generosity, laughter, loyalty, and honesty. We have come far, but there’s still much to do. If I’m granted a second term, we shall focus our efforts on balancing our military with immigration. A balance between conservation and industrialization. Introduce laws in which non-ponies won’t be judged by their outward appearance but by their character. At the same time, with the School of Friendship, it shall be the model of education in which not only other creatures will learn about us ponies, but we shall also learn about them too. So that we can see how we’re similar rather than be afraid of how we’re different. The future of Equestria is in your hooves.”
 
“Time’s up,” my other me said, turning over to Shining in a monkey suit, “Your turn, same question.”
 
“Thanks.” He nodded. “Now, I won’t deny the facts that there has been progress in foreign policy, especially with Changelings and opening the borders of Yakyakistan. That the economy has made it so to where ponies are excited to go to work. Not to mention the School of Friendship which I am fully behind as my sister Twilight has been elected to take up the tremendous task of being its first headmare. There indeed is much to be done, but where we differ is the focus on where that change should come from. President Celestia would say that we should turn our attention to non-ponies first. Don’t get me wrong, this is a noble goal to strive for. At the same time, however, we should not neglect you the ponies too. There has been an increase in housing pricing which is becoming unaffordable to young adults. The education system still needs to be tweaked and reformed to fit with the challenges and values of our times. And I also agree with Celestia that we should strengthen the military to protect Equestria when and if it faces dangers again. Fortunately for all of you, I know the right ponies and recourses to meet with these challenges.”
 
As the two candidates enter into the next part in which they debate it out, I felt a tug on my lion’s arm. Looking down, Silverstream whispered. “Mr. Discord, what’s the point of doing this? This is kinda boring.”
 
“Simple,” I whispered back, “to become president here, these two have to convince all of them,’ I pointed a thumb behind me, “that they’re up to the task.”
 
“So they do it by trying to convince the crowd?” Twilight asked in a hushed tone. I nodded. “Okay, and the crowd, do they know what they’re doing? If this is a democracy, then they’re taught about the responsibility they have to their country, do they?”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
She blinked. “I mean… choosing who is going to lead a country is a major decision. If power is in the hooves of citizens, they’re capable of meditating on what they believe is the right thing to do. Are they only to choose the president or more than that?”
 
“In this universe, the citizens choose the leaders every couple of years, and the policy every month. So yes, they do vote on a lot of things.”
 
“I think I see what Headmare Twilight is asking,” Silverstream said, “how exactly does this crowd decide on these things? Do they have to be taught at school; do they talk among themselves? How exactly do they gain the knowledge to know who to vote for?”
 
“And how did they get to be candidates in the first place?”
 
“What happens when-”
 
I held my talon/paw up; I told them that I just got an idea. So I called out, “Hey, other me! Mind if we come on stage?”
 
The other me blinked before saying into the microphone. “I’m busy, what do you want?”
 
“Look, I’m sure this debate is interesting and all where both sides have their pros and cons. But how about we make this more interesting.”
 
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
 
“These two,” I wrapped an arm around my student and boss, “come from a universe where Equestria has no Democracy… at least… maybe not yet. And they’re hearing about this stuff for the very first time too. So, if you ask me, I’d say if you really want to show these ponies who’s the better leader, then why not try to explain to them their inquiry on Democracy itself?”
 
  Behind us, a confusion of murmurs was heard. The other me thought this over, and with a snap of his paw, the house lights lit up and… boy, there’s a lot of them here. “In case none of you heard, the other me from an alternative universe said that he comes here with two individuals where Equestria there doesn’t have a Democracy and are curious about it. The offer here is that they should come on stage to ask our candidates questions so that they could explain the values of our great land. So, right now, we’ll take a vote. All in favor?” He raises a claw, and turning around, many raised their hooves. “All oppose?” Few raised their hooves. “Very well, come on up!”
 
  With a snap, the cafeteria table was transported over to the middle of the stage.
 
  “Twilie?” Shining blinked.
 
  “Twilight?” so did the President. “And… you look familiar. Silverstream, is that you?”
 
  “That’s me!” My student smiled. “So how do you know me? Being from an alternative universe and all.”
 
  “That’s uh… you’re the Queen of the Hippogriffs.”
 
  “Say what!?”
 
  “Now now,” I told Silverstream, “we came here to learn about Democracy, so let’s stay on topic.” Using my tail as a microphone, I asked into it, “So, which one of you ladies want to start asking first?”
 
  After a moment, Twilight raised a hoof, so I detached my tail and hand it over to her. “I guess I can start asking these two.” She first looked over to the other Shining, “When you say that you and Celestia are candidates, how did you get to be one in the first place?”
 
“That’s quite easy,” President Celestia said, “you must fill out a form and then pay an entry price, the rest is to convince everyone that you should be ideal for whatever position you’re trying to get in a public office.”
 
  “How much is it?”
 
  “Well,” the other Shining replied, “that depends on what you’re running for. If say you’re running in a local election like, for example, a mayor, then you will have to pay in fifty bits, plus pay for running advertisements and pamphlets to let others know what you stand for. Naturally, the price does go up the bigger the position you’re running for. Now, of course, I for one am transparent with how much I’ve spent on this campaign.”
 
  “Really? And how much did you spend?”
 
  “As of now, over twenty-two-million bits.”
 
  Silverstream, after getting out of her culture shock, raised a claw so I handed the tail-mic over to her. “So, in other words, the bigger the position, the more money is needed?” They nodded. “So, in a democracy, it’s money that decides who gets to be the leader?”
 
  “Oh no, it’s more than just that.” Celestia retorted. “While yes, money is indeed needed to let others know that you’re running and be clear of what you stand for, there is always the debate that helps voters decide. As candidates, we have to talk to them, let them know what we stand for, what we’re willing to do because, at the end of the day, the voters have more power than even me. Because if they wanted, they could, by a majority, vote me out of office if they think I wasn’t doing a good job. We have to convince them that either of us is worthy of tremendous responsibility.”
 
  “So in other words, you get to be a leader by having enough money and being convincing?” 
 
  “Of course,” Celestia nodded. “That is what makes Equestria so great. It is the citizens, not the politicians, who decided in what direction this country should go to. We may carry out the laws, but it is they that we must listen to because, at the end of the day, they have the final say. We can’t do anything without their consent. As President, you learn quickly that you may be the leader, but you are nothing without the ponies and creatures that put you up there.”
 
  There was applause from the audience. But looking at my student and boss, their minds were racing.
 
  Twilight raised a hoof. “So, if what both of you are saying is true, does that mean that the poor have no opportunity to run for office?” And one very uncomfortable silence later, she added, “from my first impression, it would seem that the only way to become President or otherwise is to be rich and a smooth talker.”
 
  “Uh…” President Celestia tugged at her collar. “Do either of you have any other questions?”
 
  “I have one!” Silverstream asked, “How do either of you gain the knowledge of the ponies to have the power that put you here?”
 
  “I can answer this,” Shining said, “the truth is that in the state of our Democracy, that despite the cornucopia of information out there, even in government buildings on every subject of every topic that faces our society, there are those who are convinced that they don’t need much knowledge because they listen to the opinion of themselves and others. Not the facts themselves. This is why I’m different, I have researched from reliable sources to strategize how to tackle these difficult problems.”
 
  Twilight raised an eyebrow. “And you’re suggesting that Celestia doesn’t?”
 
  “That’s not true.” President Celestia (sheesh, no matter times I say that it still sounds so wrong) quickly said. “Every single morning, I’m given briefings on my desk of the most pressing of matters. This comes in the form of statistics, studies, articles, and reports. If there is something that I have doubts on, I’d have it checked again.”
 
  “And what about them?” Silverstream pointed to the audience. “If they really hold all the power, how do they gain the knowledge to know who or what they’re going to be voting for?”
 
 My counterpart and I smiled. Ah, I can see where this is going. “Hey other me, wanna take over?” I asked.
 
  “Don’t mind if I do!” He said enthusiastically, hovering over the stage and out to the audience. “Let’s see, eeny, meeny, miny, you.” His lion’s paw stretched, pointing at a mare in the audience.
 
  “M-Me?” 
 
  He hovered over, microphone in his tail asked, “For the candidates on stage, do you have any idea who you’re going to vote for?”
 
  “I think so.”
 
  “Before you came to see this debate?”
 
  “In a way, yeah.”
 
  “And have you voted before?”
 
  “Several times.”
 
  “Good!” He smiled, “And so how do you make your decisions?”
 
  “Well uh…” she scratched the back of her head, “mostly from what newspapers have said, and then go with my common sense in what’s right.”
 
  “Uh, excuse me,” Silverstream asked, waving a claw, “could I ask you something?” The mare told her that she could. “When you make a decision like say between these two,” she waved to the running canadiens, “do you do so because you know who should be in charge, or because you feel that they should be?”
 
  The mare blinked. “What’s the difference?”
 
  “I think what she’s saying,” my boss said, “do you vote based on critically thinking about it, or because you went with your gut instinct and that it was the most charming?”
 
  “W-Well…” the mare hesitated, thinking for a moment. “Because it’s… well, the one I’m voting for share more or less the same values that I have, I guess?”
 
  “And not because you’ve spent hours in really thinking if either one should be?”
 
  The mare pushed away from the microphone. 
 
  “Anyone else wanna give it a shot?” the other me asked. 
 
  The other Shining coughed, “Uh, can we get back to the debate?”
 
  Silverstream looked at her notebook and ask. “Now that I think of it, I got a question for you two. What do you do if these ponies want you to do something that you think isn’t right, even if it’s popular?”
 
  President Celestia went first. “Such a big question. Every president, for one reason or another, will encounter something which the citizens wanted but you don’t. You are put in a seat of judgment in which no matter what you end up deciding, you will be condemned for it. Sometimes you have to say no. For example, after the Changelings invaded the first time, many ponies lobbied to go to war or even create witch-hunts. This decision by the citizens was widely popular for a time, but I refused. Because I knew that if Equestria did retaliate, did try to invade or imprison anyone that was even suspected of being a Changeling, then I would be no more different than Chrysalis. Because out of principle of what Equestria stands for.”
 
  Shining nodded. “Now I’d admit that I’m aware this will be something that I too will have to face. The truth is that even when you’re president, you cannot satisfy everyone. Which is why, to try to rule as fairly as possible, I will put in a policy of a square deal. I will listen to both sides, see if there are any compromises to be made. And if there are, chances are that not everyone will get everything they wanted, but in the end, everyone will get something.”
 
  While the audience was muttering something in approval, Silverstream raised a claw. “I have one more question. And it’s to everycreature here.”
 
  “What is it?” I asked.
 
  “So, in a democracy, if everything is decided on whoever has the most votes, are the ponies that are in the minority of voting always wrong?”
 
  “No/Yes!” replied everyone at the same time. 
 
  While the place erupted in arguments, I’ve decided that this was a good time to withdraw from this particular universe and back to floating in the space between spaces. “So, thoughts on Democracy?”
 
  My boss replied, “I guess that on paper, it sounds like a good idea.”
 
  “That it seems like it gives everyone a chance to voice their opinions,” my student added.
 
  I raised an eyebrow. “But…?”
 
  Silverstream flipped through her notes. “From my first impression of it, I take it that the leaders are wealthy and had to sound convincing. And the voters who put them there don’t seem to have much knowledge when it comes to critical thinking, so they instead go by gut feelings.”
 
  “Not only that,” Twilight said, “but to me, it could be easy for someone who isn’t that good of a leader or a policy to be approved as long as they make it sound good.”
 
  “Ah, very good,” I smiled and nodded, “the both of you spotted the problem almost immediately. While it’s true that this form of government does give everyone a voice in what should or shouldn’t be done, there is a problem with it that even old Socrates had pointed out.”
 
  “Socrates?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Hold on, why would he have a problem with it? I thought he was loyal to the city that was democratic.”
 
  “He was. But at the same time, he was rather hesitant in giving everyone the vote. At one point, he had a conversation with someone that went like this: Suppose you were on a ship that’s sailing into unknown waters and there’s a storm coming. In that regard, who do you want to be in charge of the vessel, just anyone or somebody that has knowledge and experience in sailing in difficult situations?”
 
  “Well the one that has experience, of course,” Silverstream answered.
 
  “So why, Socrates asks, would you just let anybody decide where a country should go as much as you would trusting strangers to sail through a hurricane? Keep in mind, the guy wasn’t in favor of letting a very select few vote, his point was that voting was a skill and not a random gut feeling. He wanted the citizens to be educated enough when making difficult decisions and know who to trust when it comes to making them their leader. That only anyone who thought about issues rationally and deeply should be allowed near a vote.”
 
  “Okay, that makes sense.” Twilight hummed. “And what if the voters did put in someone terrible?”
 
  “The was the other thing Socrates had feared,” I told her. “He was afraid that allowing just anyone the vote would lead to demagogues taking charge. He understood why it happens as they’re skillful at swaying elections by appealing to voters need for quick and easy answers.”
 
  “What’s a demagogue?” Silverstream inquired.
 
  “Remember Cozy Glow?” I asked her, she nodded. “Her, in a nutshell, is a perfect example of that. I’d bet if Equestria really did hold elections, she would manipulate her way to the top. How exactly? Well, Socrates had thought about the perfect thought experiment: Imagine that there was an election between a doctor and a sweet shop owner. The owner of the sweets would say about his rival, ‘Look, this pony here has worked many evils on you. He hurts you, gives you bitter potions, and tells you not to eat and drink whatever you like. He’ll never serve you feasts of many and pleasant things like I will.’ Think about the audience’s response to that. Do you think the doctor would reply effectively? If he tells the truth and says, ‘I cause you trouble and go against your wants to help you,’ it would cause a riot among the audience, don’t you think?”
 
  “So what you’re saying is that this Democracy, while sound on paper, isn’t that effective in practice,” Twilight concluded.
 
  “Oh, I didn’t say that. Some would see democracy as a definite good – rather than as something as effective as the education of the voters that decide in one. But as a result, especially with this universe down below us, they have elected many sweet shop owners and very few doctors.”
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 2) - On Communism
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next stop on our Magical Mystery Cafeteria Table Ride through the multiverse was Universe: 1936593465430374-62-C. So after dropping into that world (disappointingly by parachute much to my boss’s insistence on it) we landed in an apple orchard.
 
  “This looks an awful lot like Sweet Apple Acres,” Silverstream commented when we landed, “What universe is this supposed to be?”
 
  “Communism,” I told her, getting out of my seat, “only not the kind you’re thinking of.”
 
  “Wait,” Twilight looked around, “are you telling me that this Equestria had actually embraced communism? What, is Starlight the dictator of this world?”
 
  “We’ll get to that stuff later, but no, this isn’t it. If anything, stuff like what Starlight did in her village is nowhere in sight. In this universe, she’s not a leader of anything. But to the one that is…” With a snap of my talon, apples rolled down the bark of the tree and went underneath the table, picking us up and moving like a tank. “I will take you to the nearest leader here.”
 
  “Mr. Discord,” Silverstream raised her claw, “what’s Communism?”
 
  “That depends. Are we talking about what the philosopher with the overgrown bush of a beard thought about or the kind that ended up becoming?”
 
  “Um…” She blinked, “the first one?”
 
  “Ah, getting to basics then, FASTER YE APPLES! FASTER!” That last remark wasn’t to the hippogriff, obviously, but rather for our mode of transportation in which I had to crack the liquorice whip so that the thousands of apples would move us quicker. “To be fair, I’m kinda cheating on this one.”
 
  “How so?” my boss raised an eyebrow.
 
  “For one, Communism has more to do with economics than giving details as to how to run a country. In most universes, whenever someone for one reason or another try to apply Marx’s theories, it tends to get really messy. So much so, that even Rebel Beard,” I pulled out a bust of Marx in all his beardy glory, “said about himself at one point,” to this, I made the bust talk. “‘All I know is, I am no Marxist.’” To which I proceeded to toss the bust puppet aside. “If anything, the guy wouldn’t be flattered with the regimes that were set up in his name, especially the kinds where Dictators are involved. If anything, the guy’s idea of government was the exact opposite of all that.” 
 
  “Okay, but you didn’t answer my question,” Silverstream pointed out, “what’s Communism?”
 
  “Well, to boil it all down into a nice ramen noodle broth,” I told her, “the guy pointed out this observation – that how the economy functions is deeply flawed. So much so, that two sorts of classes emerge. One is folks that run the business, and those who work for them. Let’s say… oh for example… that you, Silverstream, work for Princess Bookworm over here. That you work and work, day in and day out, dawn to dusk doing… book stuff. Now, how would you feel if one day you discover that for all that hard work, you only get a tiny fraction of payment, just barely enough to get by on, only for that paycheck to be taken away by the grocers and landlord – while Twilight here gets paid much more than you do for doing much less work.”
 
  “That…” Silverstream looked between me and Twilight. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
 
  “Oh, and not only that,” I added, “but that work you do is so boring, so repetitive, that it becomes meaningless. That regardless of how dedicated you are, that she could easily replace you at any time for any random reason. That if you make too much of something, it will cause the economy to go into a crisis so she might fire you for being too productive. And when things are so bad, then you’ll force yourself to marry someone not out of love but because they happen to be well off. All of this to the point where just being able to take a breather is considered a bad thing.”
 
  She blinked. “That’s… dumb.”
 
  “Marx would agree with you. Of course, in most universes, while his identification of what’s wrong with how the economy functions is technically correct, his solution in practice, however, is not. He suggested that the only way to resolve any of this was to start a revolution. He neglected, however, to tell his followers a clear blueprint. Yet, he did leave behind some ideas that in this universe, were taken to heart.”
 
  “Okay, so you’ve laid out Marx’s ideas,” Twilight said, “but what does that have anything to do with how he thought government should work?”
 
  Whistling loudly to stop the apples from going over a hill, we looked down at the farm below. “Why don’t you ask her?” I pointed. At first, neither of them could figure out what I was talking about until they spotted the orange pony pulling an apple cart.
 
  For a moment, the two of them were confused, so I got up to take the lead. The two of them followed behind towards this universe’s Applejack, unloading baskets of apples. “Need any help?”
 
  She looked up. “It’s mightily be appreciated, comrades. Jus’ need ta get this inta the storage barn over there.” 
 
  “Let me get those,” my boss said, lighting her horn to levitate the baskets out of the cart and gliding over into the barn.
 
  “Thanks, fer that,” Applejack whipped away the sweat from her forehead, “now that’s done and outta the way, Ah could focus on other thin’s. Still, Ah take it you folks are out of town?”
 
  This remark startled Twilight. “Don’t you know us?”
 
  She shrugged. “Can’t say if Ah had, but it looks like yer from someplace far off. Name’s Comrade Applejack,” she held a hoof out to us. After we introduced ourselves, she added. “So where’d did y’all come from?”
 
  “Let’s just say, far away,” I replied. “Like, really, really far away.”
 
  “Ah see, do any of ya want somethin’ ta eat? Ah could whip somethin’ up if-”
 
  “We’ve already eaten.” Silverstream interrupted. “So, not to sound like I’m being nosy but what do you have to do today?”
 
  “Well, after harvestin’ some of these here apples, Ah was gonna go inta town ta help Comrade Pinkie with her cakes, then go teach the fillies with survival skills before they go campin’, then attend a council meeting and-”
 
  “Council meeting?” Twilight blinked, “I thought- I mean, I didn’t know you were a member of a council.” 
 
  “Eeyup, Ah’m the chairmare of this here town, doin’ what Ah can ta help the ponies of Ponyville towards a worker’s paradise. ‘Course, we’ve still got ways ta go, but we’ll get there one day.”
 
  “Okay…” Silverstream opened up her notebook. “So this council thing, how does it work?” While Comrade Applejack asked why, she replied, “I have a curiosity about government and wants to know how it works.”
 
  “Ah,” she nodded, “while Equestria as a whole has had a successful revolution where the workers are now in control, each town and city have their own council just so things run smoothly. The way it works is that yer chosen by the ponies that believe yer up fer the job.”
 
  “So like a Democracy?”
 
  “Kinda… but not quite. Fer it ain’t the rich or politicians that are decided, but by the folks who put follow their own. Ah was chosen because the Ah’m well respected of the town. Now once ya get yerself on board, you're sworn an oath in front of everyone else. That you’d do what ya can so that the town and Equestria will be a place without borders, poverty, or misery. That you’d come up with ways that ponies find enjoyment in their work in which they collectively preserve and grow the community. We’d strive ta get ta a point where they wouldn’t need us anymore. That bits will be useless. And that ponies will help make just as much as they need ta so they and everyone can live comfortably. That, and have tacos on Tuesdays.”
 
  “Okay,” Twilight said, “and what have you been doing so far?”
 
  “Like makin’ education on all levels free. Gettin’ in an adjustable income tax. Turn bankin’, communication, and transportation businesses into utilities ta prevent monopolies. And soon, we’re gonna figure out how ta outlaw private property and inherited wealth.”
 
  My boss raised an eyebrow. “As nice as that sounds, would that upset the economy? I mean, having free education is one thing, but even so, to have a good one you’d still have to pay for things like desks, books, paper and all that – some of which I’d think you’d have to get it from outside of town. Not only that but what good would outlawing private property and inherited wealth do?”
 
  “Ta get rid of homelessness once and fer all fer one. And that wealth should be evenly be distributed ta everyone else. It ain’t fair fer somepony ta work their flank off and gettin’ hardly anythin’ while the rich do little but get the rest. Both of these thin’s will help ta get rid of poverty.”
 
  “And the adjustable income tax?”
 
  “So that everypony will get the amount that ain’t too high or low, but fair.”
 
  I looked over to Twilight, she had a look on her face that she wasn’t entirely convinced.
 
  “I have a question,” Silverstream said, raising a claw, “with the way you’re making it, is doing work a bad thing?”
 
  “Oh, Tartarus no!” She snorted, “Ah don’t think that work in and of itself is a bad thin’. If ya found somethin’ that ya really enjoy doin’, have somethin’ that ya have pride in, it could be better than relaxin’ doin’ nothin’ at all. Like, take fer instance this orchard here. Ah could very well be an explorer, a buckball coach, or maybe a professor. But Ah chose this work because Ah know these apples here go in feedin’ Ponyville and beyond. That the tender love and care Ah put inta each tree and fruit brin’s pride in what Ah do. Now, it only becomes a problem if yer stuck permanently in it. Centuries ago, it wouldn’t be possible fer me ta be anythin’ else but a farmer. But now, with the society as it is, it makes it possible fer me ta do one thing today and another tomorrow. Ta hunt in the mornin’, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evenin’, criticize after dinner; just as Ah have a mind, without ever becomin’ a hunter, fishermare, herdspony or critic.” 
 
  After Silverstream jotted that down, Twilight insisted that we must get going. So, after telling communist Applejack goodbye, I floated with them as we went back to the cafeteria table. “I’m sensing that you’re not quite convinced, boss,” I said.
 
  She sighed, “It’s not like I know that she has good intentions in this universe but…”
 
  “But…?”
 
  “I have my doubts that this system would work.”
 
  Silverstream tilted her head, “What do you mean?”
 
  “From what I could get at it, she wants to have everypony be independent and have society function without governmental help or an economy. But she’s asking for the impossible. Because as Celestia has taught me is if there’s no productive economy, there’s no country. While she does have good intentions with free education, trying to make payment fair and all, getting any of that for free simply doesn’t exist. Which is why the whole tax thing is also impossible. If nopony with wealth can pay for it, then that means everyone else will have to pick up the slack. And if that happens, then everyone will be expected to pay quite a hefty amount just to keep society running.”
 
  “To this extent, you are correct,” I told her, “in other worlds where Communism tries to be the policy of any country, the more it tries to simplify things the more complicated it got. Not only that, in most other universes, Dictators tend to rise up. Some of them did try to make things fair for everyone, but in a society where work is optional, and you need workers to keep the country going… well… let’s say many were forced to work at spearpoint. Eventually tossing aside what Marx originally had in mind.
 
  “However,” I added as we neared the table, “if there is one thing that I do agree with Marx above all else he wrote about, it would be this: ‘Philosophers until now have only interpreted the world in various ways. The point, however, is to change it.’ The guy wanted nothing more than to change the world for the better, and even if he was wrong on some things, the criticism he gave shouldn’t be thrown in the garbage as it gives one a starting place to work from so that any world in any universe could change.”
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 3) - On Imperial Empire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The next place was Universe: 2543204659482160-49-T and coming down from the sky in a floppy helicopter, the first thing we’ve noticed right off was that Ponyville seemed to be replaced by a big, imposing, forbidding palace.
 
  My boss looked at me confused. “Discord? What’s going on here?”
 
  “Welcome to the universe where Equestria as you know it has fallen centuries ago.”
 
  “Fallen!”
 
  “Yes,” I stroked my goatee, “and if I remember right, this universe is where the Griffon Kingdom never fell, but became more powerful and invaded Equestria. Not to mention winning and establishing its capital right here.”
 
  “So, Mr. Discord?” Silverstream asked, “What sort of government does this one have?”
 
  “This one we’re coming down to is something called an Imperial Empire.”
 
  “So like the Crystal Em-”
 
  “No, a real empire,” I corrected her. “One that has an actual emperor, one who decides the fate over other nations and colonies. Oftentimes gaining power through conquest or just controlling most of the goods that go in and out.”
 
  “Halt!” Right then, we were surrounded by armed griffons in cumbersome armor carrying long spears. “You are in restricted airspace! Identify yourselves and land immediately!”
 
  Ah, the welcoming committee. “Good afternoon, gentlegriffs,” I said, pulling out a black wallet, “I know this is last minute, but we do have business here.”
 
  “Let me see that!” one of the guards flew over and snatched the wallet. After giving it a once over, the guard looked up in surprise. “Oh! Lord Discord, forgive us, we didn’t know that you were coming today.” He bowed, giving the wallet back. “It’s alright, let’s take them to the Forbidden City.”
 
  From there, it was smooth canoeing. Twilight asked me on the way down, “What did you show them?”
 
  “Oh, this thing?” I held up the wallet, “I may or may not have pick-pocket some doctor a good thousand years ago. Turns out, it has this paper in which allows me to show the weak-minded whatever I want them to see.”
 
  “Let me see that,” my boss took the wallet and opened it up. “But there’s nothing on it.”
 
  “Like I said, for the weak-minded,” I said, snatching my wallet back, “the thing is rather defective when it comes to smart ponies, I’m afraid.”
 
  “Mr. Discord,” my student inquired, “what exactly did you just do?”
 
  “I just gave all of us clearance to see the Emperor.”
 
  Soon we landed and I must say, this place makes Canterlot look like a backwater town. With high walls, red tile roofs, the golden seal of the Griffons, and plenty of guards around. Leaving the cafeteria table behind for now, we walked through city block after city block sized courtyards, under tunnels, and across important looking buildings. We passed by carved statues and carvings, glazed tiles with complex designs, and lots of red and gold everywhere. 
 
  No sooner had I thought of bringing some hiking shoes given the vast amount of distance we were walking then we finally reached the final big courtyard. Unlike the previous ones where most of them were almost empty, this final one was packed full to the brim with all sorts of creatures in robes, each holding a scroll. If anything, the long line looked like how ponies would stand at the post office on Hearths Warming Eve. A mile-long line that snaked its way around the courtyard that lead up towards a smaller but still very important looking building in the middle. Fortunately, the guards let us be, our fast pass allowing us to just cut the line and head towards the very end of it.
 
  Up a small flight of stairs and past a screen of yellow silk, we entered into what looks like a throne room. Then we saw him, there on a golden throne (well, more like a couch really) was a familiar-looking griffon in a yellow robe – asleep. Next to him, a hippogriff, made of white feathers and some light green ones on top of his head (from what I could see from his uniform) stood, listening to a pony that looks suspiciously like Blueblood reading out a proposal.
 
  “…. And that’s why a good chunk of bits should go into my mansion.” He finished before bowing.
 
  The hippogriff elbowed the Emperor awake. “Huh? Wha?” The Emperor blinked, “Uh yeah, whatever.” He said before falling back asleep.
 
  While the Blueblood look-a-like was giddily going over to a table to get that stamp of approval, I looked down to where I found my student gawking. “What?”
 
  “Is that Gallus?” She asked, “And is that Terramar?”
 
  “Who?” I asked.
 
  “My brother.”
 
  Oh yeah… I guess we all forgot about him, huh?
 
  The brother took notice of us, “Silverstream?”
 
  “Huh?” Emperor Gallus was stirred awake, “is it over yet?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. Then after blinking a few times, he pointed at us, “Who’re they?”
 
  “Lord Discord,” a guard tells him, “he’s because he has an invitation from you.”
 
  “Oh…?” Then something clicked in him, “Oh!” He leapt out of the couchy throne. “Wow, you came quicker than expected. The party isn’t until a couple of days from now.”
 
  “Well, you know,” I improvised, “trying to beat the crowds, and having to sleep in a tent in long lines is always a pain. Best to get here early before it gets really overcrowded, you know what I mean?”
 
  “Oh sure,” the Emperor said. He paused as he noticed the long lines of petitioners, “Uh… we’ll continue this tomorrow!” There was a disappointed groan that echoed in and outside the throne room. Gallus came up to us, “So who’re the concubines?”
 
  “Excuse me!” Twilight was taken aback by this. 
 
  “Oh I’m only here to teach them,” I told him, “they’re not my bed toys at all.”
 
  “Silverstream?” At this point, the other hippogriff came up to us, “What are you doing here?”
 
  Gallus raised an eyebrow, looked between him and my student, “You know each other?”
 
  “That’s my sister, Your Imperial Highness.” The one called Terramar said, bowing. 
 
  “Huh, there it is then,” he waved a claw. “Anyway, since you’re here, Lord Discord, how about I give you and these ladies a special sneak peek of the party coming up?”
 
  We followed Emperor Gallus out through a back door and into even more courtyards and hallways. This time around, there were even more guards that watched our every move. “So, Ga- I mean, Your Highness?” Silverstream started.
 
  “Oh please, we’re in the private corner of my palace,” he said, draping an arm around my student, “you can drop the formalities here and just simply call me Gallus.”
 
  “Uh-huh… So Gallus, how long have you been emperor?”
 
  He rolled his eyes, “Since my father died, of course. And have been for the past six years.”
 
  “You’ll have to forgive them,” I told him, “these two come from very far away and are curious about you and how this empire thing works.”
 
  He shrugged, “You tell me.”
 
  Both my boss and my student blinked, “You mean you don’t know?” Twilight questioned.
 
  “Well… it’s not that I don’t know what role I have. After all, I am Gallus, Emperor of the Middle Kingdom and sovereign of many nations under Heaven. Son of the Gods, ruler of ten-thousand years, bla, bla, bla… I could go on, but you get the idea of the job description I have.”
 
  “So you’re king, then?” Silverstream asked.
 
  “Oh no no no!” He stopped, waving his talons. “Not like that at all! I mean, yes, I am technically a king. But I am much more than that.”
 
  “I don’t follow.”
 
  “Well, a king only rules over a specific patch of land, understand?” She nodded. “But an emperor, he doesn’t just have dominion over one piece of land, but dozens of them. That’s why I’m emperor, I rule over many, and from time to time have my armies go out to get some more land when needed.”
 
  “But if you already have a good chunk of land,” Twilight questioned, “why would you want to have more?”
 
  “Simple, we uh…” he scratched his head, “Terramar, you tell them.” He commanded, turning around and continuing on our walk.
 
  “Uh, yes,” my student’s other brother cleared his throat, “it’s quite simple really, part of it is to make sure the military has something to do, partly to ensure the Empire’s safety and partly to force open trade when it wasn’t possible before.”
 
  “Yes, that’s it!” Gallus snapped his talon, “I knew there was a reason!”
 
  We followed them until we reached a garden. Fortunately, however, this garden wasn’t your typical kind. While it’s clearly still being set up with servants going about tasks like dumping barrel after barrel of strawberry soda into a lake, setting up a forest of beef jerky, planting grass made out of minty candy, and raking in dirt made out of crushed chocolate cookie crumbles. I must say, this guy has good taste.
 
  “What is all this?” My boss asked, waving a hoof at everything.
 
  “This is what I’m really excited about!” Emperor Gallus said, smiling. “This here is the basis of my next party. Where here, everything in this garden will be edible! Isn’t that incredible! Just imagine it! The grass is edible, the trees, the lake, the rocks, even the dirt is all a tasty delight! But I’m not gonna stop there! Not only that, but everything at the banquet too will be edible from the tables, the cloth, candlesticks, plates, you name it, everything will all be edible!”
 
  “Okay…” Twilight nodded, intrigued. “As impressive as that sounds, why are you doing this for?”
 
  “Isn’t it obvious?” Gallus waved his claw at the garden, “This is to show off to those leaders of the kingdoms that are coming here. To show them how wealthy this empire is and how rich its resources are. Everything here in this garden will have something from the other provinces. From fish from our seas, the fresh herbs from the mountains, sugar from its plantations, the fruits from its farms, pretty much everything here will be gathered from the furthest reaches of the empire. All here, to show what immense power and wealth we have at our disposal.”
 
  “So you’re doing this to show off?” Silverstream asked.
 
  “Yep! One of the things you learn when you’re in power is that he who has the most stuff wins. Now then,” he said as he started walking towards the forest of meat, “if you’ll excuse me, there’s a tasty bark of beef with my name on it.”
 
  While the Emperor goes off I looked down at my student and boss. Already their faces have a Sweet Apple Acres worth of questions. However, before they could start asking away, there was a noticeable “Psst!” coming from a corner of one of the buildings. We looked over, and Smolder is waving at us to come closer. 
 
  Silverstream’s brother sighed in relief and he ushered us to the conspirators’ corner. 
 
  “Lord Discord?” the other Smolder in armor asked, “What are you- you know what, never mind, your timing is perfect.”
 
  I raised an eyebrow, “ For what? Apparently, we’re way early for the party.”
 
  “No, it’s not that, we…” she looked at my student and boss, “Who’re they?”
 
  “They’re friends of mine,” I told them, “and this one is his sister,” I added, pointing at the other hippogriff.
 
  “You may speak freely with them,” Terramar said. “What news do you have, general?”
 
  “Well, that depends, do you want the good news or the bad?”
 
  He sighed, “Start with the bad.”
 
  “Bad news, the attempted invasion into northern Zebrica has been a disaster.”
 
  “I knew it… what’s the good news?”
 
  “Well, that rebellion in Manehattan has been put down with hardly anycreature hurt. So, what’s new with you?”
 
  “Oh you know, correcting petitions, bribing the other eunuchs, trying to balance the taxes, keeping him happy,” he pointed a thumb towards the Emperor, “the usual.”
 
  “Hold on…” Twilight looked between him and Smolder. “Why do you talk as if you’re the ruler?”
 
  Both Smolder and Terramar looked at one another for a moment. “That’s because I kinda am.” The hippogriff said. 
 
  “So wait,” Twilight rubbed her hooves over her temples, “are you saying the Emperor is a figurehead?”
 
  “Huh… yes and no.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, he still has plenty of power, no doubt about it. However... since the death of the last Emperor, Gallus is just… well…”
 
  “The Emperor has no clue,” Smolder said bluntly.
 
  “Wait, I’m confused,” Silverstream lifted a claw, “Terramar, what are you supposed to be again?”
 
  He tilted his head, “You mean… you don’t know? I could have sworn I’ve sent letters to explain.”
 
  “Hey, a little refresher wouldn’t hurt,” I said, conjuring up some of my pixelated lunch. 
 
  The hippogriff brother sighed, “Very well… In short, I serve the Emperor as the chief Eunuch, especially after… well… the invasion. It took a while to work my way up to this point, but I got to the point where I’m not only his most trusted adviser but probably the only one in this court that knows what he’s doing.”
 
  “You got that right,” General Smolder remarked, folding her arms. “Unlike the last Emperor, that at least took his job seriously, the current one… doesn’t. I mean, do any of you have any idea how often we had to step in to make sure that the army is happy and prevent the Empire from going to pieces? A lot, that’s what!”
 
  One hasty shush from Terramar later, Silverstream asked what a Eunuch was. At this point, my boss pulled her ear to her muzzle to whisper an explanation. From there, my student’s expression changed from curiosity to disgusted horror. So much so, that she lifted a claw to cover her jaw-dropped beak. “Oh my…” She hugged her other brother, “I’m so sorry.”
 
  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, patting her back. “I made this choice so nogriff would have to. Really, things have changed for the better. Besides, it’s the only way I could serve in this court.”
 
  “Why’s that?” My boss inquired.
 
  “The Emperor and the male members of his family are the only ones to be… well… fertile in the court.” Smolder explained. “I guess the whole idea is so that if anyone here gets pregnant it would be a clear sign as to who’s the father. Ya know, bloodlines and all that.”
 
  I cleared my throat, reminding them to get back on topic.
 
  “Right…” Silverstream pulled away from her other brother. “So… if you really run things, how do you do it behind the actual Emperor’s back?”
 
  “First off… going behind his back would mean that he doesn’t know we’re doing this for him.” Terramar explains: “In truth, he knows already but doesn’t care as long as he spends the least amount of time doing it himself. The only reason that we’re trying to keep this a secret is so that the rest of the court would think that the Emperor is doing his job. Secondly, it’s quite simple, really. At night I take one final look at those petitions and if I have to… override a few of them. Since the Emperor isn’t interested in governing, I have to control the bureaucracy through paperwork essentially. To look at the fine print such as when to raise or lower taxes, which individual should look over cities, ease up or tighten trade, I could go on. But the only thing I can’t touch is the Emperor’s decrees. I may control the policies, but even then, some things won’t be approved without his consent.”
 
  “Yeah,” General Smolder nodded, “and I had to make sure that the army is given something to do. If it isn’t conquest to worry about, it’s also suppressing rebellions, acting as a police force, things like that.”
 
  “Okay…” Twilight mused over for a moment before asking, “So if Gallus isn’t interested in being the Emperor, why doesn't he step down and let someone else take over?”
 
  “Isn’t it obvious?” Smolder asked, “It’s because of the heavenly mandate, that’s why.” My student asked what that was. “Basically, the Emperor is the Emperor because the gods said so since the first Emperor had said so. And ever since then, that title is passed down from father to son because… leadership is inherited apparently. If you’re born into it, you can’t just simply step down. The only way to do that is if an army from another kingdom successfully overthrows you, or if heaven itself makes some pretty strong signs that you should stop. So, until then, we’re stuck with the Emperor who uses the time to listen to petitions for naps and throwing expensive parties at the Empire’s expense. I swear, if he keeps this up, he might spark a revolution too big for even us to deal with.”
 
  “I admit, it’s even a challenge for me to justify the budget.” Terramar rubbed the back of his neck. 
 
  “Any other questions?” I asked my student and boss.
 
  The two of them thought it over for a minute until Silverstream inquired: “So… if it’s just you doing all the government work, what is the point of an Imperial Empire?”
 
  Terramar hummed in thought. “Honestly? I think the real reason for the conquests is so that we have resources from different parts of the globe to keep us rich, and partly to maintain a status quo so as to prevent war with different regions. I admit, from what I’ve contributed, not only have I been making efforts to strengthen alliances between us Hippogriffs with Ponies and Griffons, but Dragons, Yaks, Buffalos, Changelings, and Crystal Ponies as well. That we all have something in common, otherwise, we’d only have war.”
 
  “Ah… the Leviathan argument.” I sighed. Everyone looked at me as if they didn’t know what I was talking about. They didn’t, so I had to tell them. “It’s an idea pioneered by Hobbes. Basically, the idea is that the reason why governments started was that in the beginning, life before any laws, kings, or anyone of authority was, in his words, ‘nasty, brutish and short.’ So as a direct result of this beautiful chaos, many of them turned to strong authority figures that promised that they could protect them - for a fee. ‘Living affairs,’ as he puts it, ‘cannot be without some inconvenience.’ After all, ‘If one could rule themselves, they would have no need at all of a common forcible power.’”
 
  “Exactly,” Terramar nodded. “While the Emperor may not be fit to rule, the idea of what he represents to those outside of these walls is essential for keeping the Empire together. That is why it’s our job to keep up with the illusion that order is kept like the rise and fall of the sun.”
 
  As things looked as they are wrapping up, just like my portion of my censored lunch, I had us teleported back over to the cafeteria table and back into the multi-verse. “So, thoughts on this world?” I asked them.
 
  Silverstream looked at her notes. “It looks to me that an Imperial Empire is made to keep its subjects united, but I think there’s a serious flaw with it.”
 
  “You mean the whole inherited power thing?” My boss stated the obvious.
 
  “Yes,” I nodded, “now can you see why somepony like say… Blueblood isn’t going to be given the reigns to Equestria in our world?”
 
  “Yeah… Besides, that Empire model would only work if the leader is confident and knows what they’re doing with that sort of responsibility. From what I could see of this Gallus… I can’t honestly see a world like that run for very long.”
 
  “But to be fair,” Silverstream pointed out, “it’s clear that Gallus wasn’t given any choice, unlike you. He was born into it by chance… which I guess sums up why it wouldn’t work if whoever comes after him would be the same. But what would one be like if there was a monarchy of some kind, but have a group that was elected by the subjects?”
 
  “Oh, you mean a constitutional monarchy?” I asked and grinned, “How about we take a look?”
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 4) - On Constitutional Monarchy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next place we visited was Universe: 39316293640293638-42-R. Instead of descending from the sky, I decided to mix things up by having the cafeteria table be pushed in sideways through a crystal wall and plop down to the middle of a room. Of course, we were covered in shards of the stuff as if we smashed through several stained-glass windows. A series of shaking off later, Silverstream asked, “Where are we now?”
 
  Looking around, I answered, “Looks like we’re inside Twilight’s Crystal Tree Castle. Although I’m not sure which room this is as this place is always a maze in here.”
 
  “Okay,” Twilight picked a shard out from her wing, “so which universe is this one again?”
 
  “Welcome to the universe where Equestria had adopted the idea of having their monarchs on a leash.”
 
  My student glanced at my boss for a moment before asking, “Like literally or…?”
 
  “Metaphorically, unfortunately. The idea in this universe is that because monarchs tend towards going King Sombra on the rest of us, they should be kept in check by others. Usually by a group that’s elected by the aristocracy and the citizens.”
 
  “So, it’s more a system of checks and balances?” Twilight inquired.
 
  “Well…” I pause and put a claw to my lips. “Oh, I don’t wanna spoil the surprise so soon.”
 
  “Well that’s rather vague,” Silverstream pointed out, “How exactly does this work?”
 
  Floating over to a door and opening it with my tail, I waved to them, “Why not we go take a look?”
 
  Now hooked on curiosity, I lead them a very short distance – right next door in fact – towards a sitting room. A small little place where there are two comfy chairs, and a smaller table set up for tea-time. Complete with a teapot, cups, sandwiches, and cakes. At first, my boss seemed confused by this, “What does this have anything to do with government?”
 
  “Well, Your Highness,” I said, pulling out an umbrella, “why don’t you ask her?”
 
  “Who?”
 
  As expected, there was a knock on the door we entered from, and I pulled the umbrella open, diffusing the light enough so that my student and I seem invisible. While Twilight was surprised that we seemed to have disappeared, Silverstream was about to ask me something but I held her beak shut and put a talon to my lips. After all, the show is about to start.
 
  There was another knock, and at first, the Princess of Books wasn’t sure what to do except to say “Come in.” The door opened and a familiar-looking pony walked in. My boss had to blink a couple of times to register what she was seeing. Because the pony that walked in was Cadence, only, she wasn’t in her princess getup. This one had on a dark blue business suit and tie holding a briefcase, and her mane was pulled up in a bun.
 
  “Your Majesty,” she gave her a bow, “I’m glad to see that you are doing well.”
 
  Twilight blinked, “I am?”
 
  “Well, you have come down with the flu. I was worried that we wouldn’t have our weekly audience.” She smiled, “Still, it’s good to see you again. So…” Other Cadence trotted over to one of the seats and sat down in it. “Out of curiosity, how is Sir Spike? Is he doing any better?”
 
  “Last time I saw him, he was,” Twilight replied, gingerly walking over to the seat across from her and took her place. 
 
  “Ah, that’s good news indeed.” She nodded. “After all, I heard that the breakup was harsh on him. Most of Parliament was getting worried about his well-being.” Taking out the briefcase and putting on a pair of reading glasses, she opened it and looked at some papers. “So, for the business of the week, I’m afraid there’s not much to report on. Just planning ahead for Queen Silverstream’s visit and the plan for how Equestria responds to Yakyakistan opening up their borders for the first time and…” she looked up at my boss. “Your Highness, are you alright?”
 
  “Uh…” it looked like she had to think quickly so she replied, “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted with all that’s going on, even getting confused since I’m still recovering from the flu.”
 
  “Confused?”
 
  “Like uh… What exactly do you do again, Cadence?”
 
  She blinked as she tilted her head. “I’m your Prime Minister. I have been for the past couple of years now. Ever since Parliament elected me by majority vote. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
 
  “Kinda… I can still function, it’s just that my head is still rather foggy as I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
 
  “Oh, I see.” Prime Cadence nodded. “Well, maybe you should get some rest, the council will take care of the planning for Queen Silverstream’s arrival and what to do with Yakyakistan.”
 
  “But what about me?”
 
  “Uh… Your Majesty?”
 
  “Don’t you still need me to do something? I mean, it’s the reason you came to me, right?”
 
  “No…?” the other Cadence raised an eyebrow. “I came to give you my weekly report on what the council is doing. You don’t have to do anything.”
 
  “What?” Now it was my boss’s turn to look confused. “That doesn’t make sense. Why come to me for something that somepony else is going to do anyway?”
 
  A moment later, the Prime Cadence got up to put a hoof over her forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You should have already known this stuff by now.”
 
  “Humor me – at least for a moment. If a council is doing the actual government work, then what do I do?”
 
  The other Cadence pondered this question for a moment before replying. “Well, Your Majesty, while the monarchy had surrendered their actual power years ago to be hoofed over to Parliament, you still have an important role to play. To be a symbol of stability, the very face of the country to the world in how you carry out your ceremonial roles. A voice of comfort and reason in trying times and the upholder of what makes us Equestrian by showing the world at its best.”
 
  My boss scrunched up her face for a moment before replying, “Yeah… I’m not buying it.”
 
  “Your Highness?” Prime Cadence blinked.
 
  “Even if that were all true, that doesn’t make sense why you would have me. If all I needed to do around here is to smile and wave, where I guess I have no right to say what I think is right or wrong, then I can pretty much be replaced by a cardboard cutout while the rest of you do the actual work.”
 
  “But that’s not true, you’re still important-” 
 
  “As an appendix would be to a pony. If all I get to do is listen to you and not do a thing about it, I might as well not be here.” Twilight got up, heading towards the door, “After all, it looks like I’m just wasting your time.”
 
  We followed after her unlike the stunned Prime Minister back into the next room. Once we were out of sight, I dropped the invisibility umbrella. “Wow boss, that one struck a nerve,” I remarked.
 
  She huffed. “No kidding. I mean having a monarchy that doesn’t do much of anything other than looking pretty is not much of a monarch at all.” Twilight looked over to Silverstream who has been quiet for a long time. “What do you think?” she asked her.
 
  After scratching the back of her neck, she replied: “Honestly… I do agree why you would be upset but…” 
 
  I raised an eyebrow. “But?”
 
  “Well… My auntie Novo told me once that when you have the crown, it is unwise to make decisions when you haven’t heard what others have to say about this or that. Of course, in the end, you still have to make a decision, but it’s best to have advisers and such as a conscience to make the right decision.”
 
  “Yes,” Twilight nodded, “but that only works when you’re given a choice to make that decision or at the very least give in your two cents.”
 
  Then, just at that dramatic moment, there was a knock on the door, followed by the other Cadence calling out, “Your Majesty? Are you in there?” After a pause, Twilight took in a deep breath before going to answer the door, but open just enough to open it. “Listen, Your Highness, if I had offended you for what I said-”
 
  “No… No, it’s not you. Like I said, I’m still recovering, and I just took what you said a little too personally.” Ah, good cover. “I didn’t mean to lash out on you like that. You’re just trying to do your job and I…”
 
  A pink hoof was placed on her shoulder. “Twilight, I get it. If I were in your horseshoes, I would be frustrated beyond belief for not being able to have your opinion heard or have a say in government. Not just that you’re the Princess, but at the end of the day, you’re still a pony that wants what’s best for the country. And I do too. Of course, I may not agree with everything you’ve said in the past, but the fact remains that you are still a figure that’s still respected and looked up to. You’re not a cardboard cut-out, you’re the Princess that has rights too. If there’s anything that I should apologize for, is for not asking what your thoughts are on these matters. So to make up for that, if you allow it, from here on out, I will relay what is going on, hear you out, and then report it to the council to have them consider what is best.”
 
  Although we couldn’t see it, Twilight was smiling at her. “As Princess, I would love that.”
 
  Once the two of them said their goodbyes, we decided to move on to the next Universe.
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 5) - On Dictatorship and Anarchy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Needless to say, neither Silverstream nor Princess Bookworm was impressed with the Republic universe either. The details about what happened are so dry that they make the sands of Southern Equestria look like an oasis. So, to spare you from being bored to death, I’ve boiled it down to you in a stock and canned it for you.

Basically, after we arrived from the floor of the Senate building, I explained to them that in that universe, Equestria never had a monarchy and instead have created a Republic out of the Pegasi model. Eventually, the borders spread to the point that it covered other lands. So that explained why Ocellus was there on the floor debating about what to do when a mule drops dead while carrying junk around. I ended up explaining to them how this works is that each senator is elected by the ones that they represent in any given region to make laws for them. Of course, it didn’t take long for Silverstream to notice the problem immediately as soon as one of the silver-tongued Flim or Flam convinced them to raise taxes so that they could live more comfortably than everyone else. That this had the same problems as the Democracy one.

So, after we bid Universe: 5739563857210472-96-A goodbye, we said hello to Universe: 8474750363214037-04-L. We entered in by boat. Or at least, having the cafeteria table be the boat lazily floating in the moat. Shortly by being arrested, whacked with sticks and tossed into a cell before any of us could get a word out. Frankly, that’s how you start a story!

“What the hey was that about!” Twilight exclaimed.

I rubbed my head from the recent whacking. “As I was gonna say before the welcoming committee found us. Welcome to the universe where Equestria has a Dictator. By the looks of it… I’d say we’re in said Dictator’s house. Or at least the basement portion of it.”

“Let me guess,” my boss said flatly. “Starlight?”

“Actually, nope. In this universe, someone else had risen to power.”

“Mr. Discord,” Silverstream inquired, “remind me again, what is a Dictator?”

I floated over to her, “To oversimplify it, a Dictator is someone who has been given absolute power from the masses so that they could control every aspect of life from what you do in bed to how the economy works. This universe is an absolutist one, where no opinion, no protest, no speech, no letter, no job, no festival, no food, or anything else is said or done without their approval. And if they don’t approve, it doesn’t happen because they would be thrown in prison or executed on the spot.”

My hippogriff student took back several steps in shock. “W-Why would anyone agree to live under something like that?”

“There are several reasons. One of them being that it’s a society’s way of giving up. They already tried other forms of government, so instead of trying to fix it, let’s hand it over to just one fella and let them do all the work. Another is because the one who got to the top was just so charming and likable that a lot of citizens felt that one should be the one to rule. Or maybe that they happened to have a powerful army. Or that they blackmailed everyone and threatened to show off their dirt if they don’t comply. Or maybe because they convinced everyone that there’s a threat out there that if only they were in charge, they could make said threat go away. Feed them sweet lies that as long as they swear loyalty to them, then they don’t have to worry about problems any more.”

“And what’s this Universe’s excuse?” Princess Bookworm asks.

“How the dictator came to power isn’t important here. But rather, what do they do when they have no one they could tell them ‘No’ to.”

Then, as if out of conveniences from an author that can’t think of any other better ideas, the door to our cell opens up and a guard demands us to move. So, we were led upstairs at spearpoint from the dungeons to the grand halls with a night motif. Even before we reached the office of the Dear Leader, it didn’t take any of us long to figure out who’s in charge of this universe.

Inside the spacious office with black marble-like floors that shine like a still pond at night, a high ceiling with mage lights that twinkle like stars, An arched window as big as a wall that looks out to Equestria in the eternal night was a familiar blue alicorn in a suit behind a big, imposing desk. Luna didn’t bother to look up at us as paperwork seemed to be more interesting than us, or me especially. Frankly, it’s rather annoying.

“My Moon,” the guard that brought us here announced, “these three were caught trespassing on your grounds in the moat. What shall we do with them?”

She still didn’t look up, continue to work, “Is it something that I should be concerned about?”

“You are the leader, My Moon.”

She gave off an annoyed moan, finally looking up. After a beat, she called out for another guard in which one immediately came in and saluted. She pointed to the one that brought us here. “Have this one taken to the wall and shot for incompetence.”

So, the guard that brought us here was too taken away at spearpoint, kicking and screaming. Twilight was stunned by this. And by that, I mean ready to rip this Luna a new one. As soon as they were gone, she turned on her. “What they hey is wrong with you!?”

Dictator Luna blinked, “Come again?”

“How can you just execute one of your own guards just like that?”

She shrugged, “It’s rather easy. He should have taken you three,” she waved a hoof at us “as in you, the trespassers, out to the wall and be shot. So instead of thinking of doing just that, he’s going in your place instead. Any capable guard should know how to do that by now without bothering me. After all,” she looked back down at her paperwork, “I have work to do.”

“What kind of work?” Silverstream asked.

Luna looked up at us again, raising an eyebrow. “You three are not from around here, are you? Do you know who I am?”

My student tilted her head. “Should I?”

The Dictator flinched as if someone had sprayed water in her face. “Yes. You should. I am Luna, Absolute Leader of Equestria, the Immortal Moon of the Night. But curious…” She got up. “Everyone outside of these walls is wise enough to tremble before me. And yet, here I see that there is no fear in any of you. Why?”

Before Twilight could come up with a response Silverstream said to her within point-blank range: “Because I don’t know you. Why should I be afraid of something I don’t know? That’s silly.”

Suddenly Luna was face to face with her. “You had my curiosity, now you have my attention.”

I raised my claw, “Oh! Oh! Pick me! I think there’s a question you two are overlooking. Why, exactly, are they afraid of you?”

Luna the Dictator hummed as she turned towards the window. “Do you see this?” She waved a hoof out, “This land and its creatures? Years ago, they once were under the oppression of a tyrant. One who allowed year after year some catastrophe out of incompetence. The ponies were afraid when the Changelings invaded and sought out for a savior. To which, I took up the task that as long as they swear loyalty to me, they shall have their safety. The more fear there was, the more Equestria deemed me worthy to be the leader.

“Even when the revolution had succeeded me to be Sol Invictus of this land, there were those that dared to question what I bring. And the more that question me, the less power I have. And the less power I have, the fewer means I have to protect them. So, I looked back to the leaders of the past, and one voice inspired me. During the Prench Revolution, Robespierre made terror the order of the day. After all, he put it best as I took to heart.” She closed her eyes and recited, “‘If the element of popular government in time of peace is virtue, then the element of popular government in revolution is, in one and the same, virtue and terror. Terror, without virtue, is disastrous; but virtue without terror is powerless. The terror is only justice: prompt, severe, inflexible; it is then an essential form of virtue. It is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of government, applied to the most pressing wants of the country.’”

“So what?” Twilight interjected. “The only way to combat the villains is to… what? Become one?”

This got a reaction from Luna. Her eyes narrowed at her. “The truth is, that for a nation to be strong, it needs to have a Leviathan. The first rule I’ve learned when it comes to power that, if left to their own devices, the public will always find some way to destroy themselves. They need me. They need me to dangle the carrot in front of their faces and a good size stick with a nail in it to threaten them with. Otherwise, nothing gets done.”

The fumes alone that were coming out of my boss’s ears were burning enough to roast a marshmallow over. She turned to me. “Okay, I get it now what this Dictator stuff is all about?”

“You do?” I asked with an amused smirk. “Care to share with the class?”

“A Dictator is only a bully that is so caught up in the idea with being good that they blind themselves long enough to become the very monsters they sought to destroy.”

“HOW DARE YOU!?!” Luna shouted in her native Canterlot Voice. Now it’s the Dictator’s turn to be angry. “How dare you speak about me like that! I am not a bully! I am not a monster! I am THE Dear Leader of this proud land!”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. It was the kind of look that was taking off the kiddy gloves and pulling out something that she knew would hurt this Luna more than anything. And boy, did she have something that stung. “With a mentality like that, Celestia would be proud of you.”

She’s either really lucky or unlucky that Celestia wasn’t around to hear that.

That did it. Luna’s eyes glowed white in fury and shot a beam at us. Instinctively, the cafeteria table that had my pixelated lunch on it shielded us. Thus, I chose that now was the time to get out of this Universe and move on to something else. With a snap, we were floating back in the multiverse.

But even when pulled out to safety, my Boss was really on edge. Silverstream, being really brave or really foolish, decided this would be the time to say – “Headmare, are you okay?”

Shaking her head, she breathed in deep. “I just… I can’t stand with anyone that thinks like that. Yeah, I know it's not the Luna I know but… what else could I say? I don’t like bullies that make up excuses.”

My student nodded. She checked through her notebook. “I admit, this is really frustrating. Every government we go to they’re all deeply flawed. Why couldn’t there be one where there isn’t anyone that rules over anyone, where anycreature could just take care of themselves?”

“Ask, and ye shall receive!” I said gleefully as the planets below us run by until we reached Universe: 1112324532135639-62-S. “And I can’t describe how excited I am to be here!” I told them, vibrating in my seat. “This section of the multiverse is my personal favorite. As this one right here is actually my vacation spot during the winter months.”

So I welcomed into that Universe by flying saucer, and I, donning a tropical shirt, sunglasses, and a coconut that happens to have a straw nearby, waved a hoof over to the Equestria below. “Welcome ladies, to the world of Anarchy!”

Twilight peered over the open window. “Why’s a good chunk of Equestria on fire?”

“This is a world where there’re no rules, no governments, no one here to take care of you except for yourself. A land of selfishness where the inhabitants are on a continuous quest in search of truth and fun. It is a place that makes those Purge movies look like a trip to Whinnyland.”

“But…” Silverstream raised a talon, “What exactly is Anarchy?”

“It’s where there’s nobody around to tell you what to do, where you have no one to bow down to. So it’s set up to have you, an individual, to have unlimited personal liberty as possible. So, with all that freedom with nothing to tie anyone down, this place is a breeding ground for such entertaining chaos. The kind where I don’t have to do a thing. I mean, just look at it,” we did, and a school was blown up by a barrel of fish. My eyes started to tear up, “It’s so beautiful that it makes me almost want to cry.”

“You’re sick,” Twilight told me, “you know that, right?”

“And you’re just noticing?”

“But, Mr. Discord,” Silverstream asked, “if there’s no one in charge, how does anything get done?”

“When anyone wants to do it. But don’t take my word for it,” I decided to land our UFO near Ponyville – at least, what’s left of it. “Why not take a professional opinion on the subject?”

Deciding to fly this time, the three of them went over to the ruins of the town where there wasn’t anyone there except for the Solar and Lunar Guards. And among the destruction, there was a figure that was celebrating with the army. It was someone that surprised my boss, as it’s someone she knew.

“Victory for freedom!” cried Blueblood. “The last of the hierarchists have been destroyed!”

“Blueblood!” My boss yells at him, thus getting his and the other ponies who had sharp, pointy weapons. “What in the name of sanity do you think you’re doing!?”

The prince in armor looked up in surprise. “Princess Twilight… You’re alive? How-”

“I asked you a question!” My boss snaps at him. “What are you doing to Ponyville?! Or Equestria for that matter!?”

The army turned to Blueblood for something, but he held his hoof up. “You know,” he said, “out of all the things to happen today, I never expected to be talking to a couple of ghosts. But I suppose it is fitting that even in death, you’re able to see what I’ve created. Your kingdom has fallen and starting today, Equestria is reborn in a newly found freedom.”

“Freedom to do what?” Silverstream asked.

Blueblood laughs like a second-rate villain. “Not to, from. Freedom from authority like her,” he pointed at Twilight, “If my time underneath my Aunties rule taught me anything, is that if anyone is under the constant, potential threat of loss of their freedom, then no one is truly free. After all, if all it takes is to be afraid of something that isn’t there, to cause enough paranoia to spark witch hunts; then that is not a society I want to live with where everyone, including us, could lose those precious rights overnight.”

“What?” Twilight asked, and I explained it all to her in one word – Changelings.

“Soldiers!” Blueblood began his speech, “Now that the last authorities are gone, we can finally begin anew! From now on, the sins of the past will no longer haunt us. No longer will any of us fear that our loved ones will be taken away in the middle of the night. No longer will any of us be imprisoned without cause or a trial. No longer will we be silent in the name of safety. No longer shall we be puppets to any crown, president, dictator, chieftain or senator. And no more shall we or our children be indoctrinated to respect authority without question. That obedience shall no longer be granted automatically but earned!

“From this day forth, no one swears any alliance to anyone except their own and who they love. For no one, not even me will be in charge over another. Freedom shall be without restriction or restraint. Let no one be tied down because one happens to be in power – for none shall be in power.”

As if set up for the perfect punchline, Twilight zaps him with enough magic to send him across the valley. My boss, her eyes glowing with rage and sparks were coming out of her. So much so, that the army below decided that this was the perfect opportunity to run away. However, it worked too well as Silverstream was hiding behind me.

“So I take that as a disagreement?” I asked with a cocky tone.

She gave me the ‘Speak another word for the next fifteen minutes and I will find a way to make you suffer for eternity,’ eyes.

So after returning to the table and back into the multiverse, we spent the next thirty minutes to have her calm down while I focused on my lunch. Silverstream kept her distance while my boss had fully cooled off.

“Now then,” I began, “thoughts?”

“I am… stunned.” Twilight began. “Really, I mean it. Out of all the possibilities of how government could work, that philosophy must be the dumbest out of all of them.”

“Oh? Do tell, why wouldn’t it work?”

“Gee, where do I start? Where do I end? Should I tackle the fact that it can’t work because ponies have this tendency of taking advantage of the power vacuum that’s put in place? If he thinks that if you overthrow your government violently and then expect everypony to sing Kum-bi-ya without some warlord taking advantage of that is mentally ill. Oh! Or that maybe… just a big fat maybe – that there’s such a thing as having too much freedom where it interferes and disrupts everyone else. Having to fight injustice is one thing but to just get rid of it all together only makes it worse!” She ended her rant with some heaving.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, “it looks like you’ve grasped the main problems with Anarchy. Now, what say you, Silverstream?”

We turned to her, “Well… I agree with what Headmare Twilight had said… except…”

My boss’s jaw dropped, “You mean that you have found something to justify that madpony back there!?”

She flinched. “Just hear me out. I don’t agree with him. However, he did hit on one true thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“A ruler, or a government, should always be questioned.” She replied. “My auntie Novo once said that anyone who doesn’t hear the criticisms about themselves that could improve them, is blind. With the others, I’m beginning to see what she really meant. To be a good leader or a good country, there are times when you have to step back and ask… what if I’m wrong? I don’t know, but perhaps a little humility would give all that we’ve seen some perspective.”

My boss and I blinked, surprised at how mature that statement was.

She added, “So, we’ve looked through every sort of government and every single one of them is deeply flawed. Mr. Discord, are you telling us that having a good government is impossible?”

“All I’ve been trying to say on this field trip is that it’s incredibly tricky in reality.”

“Hang on…” Twilight said, “Now that I think of it… there is one more form we haven’t looked into yet.”

Crap. “Uh… What are you talking about?” I asked, my eyes shifting.

“At the start of this, you said there were nine forms of government. If you include our world, we’ve actually gone through eight of them. So there’s one more we haven’t looked into.”

“That’s right!” Silverstream said, looking through her notebook. “Utopia.”

I groaned, “Oh c’mon, do I have to talk about that?”

“Yes!” they both said in unison.

“But I don’t like it,” I protested, folding my arms and huffing like a nine-year-old.

“Well too bad,” my boss told me, “I want to see it.”

“Me too.” Said my traitorous student.

Seeing that if I refused might result in me being turned into stone again, I gave in. Begrudgingly, I transported the cafeteria table over to the furthest part of the multiverse. Towards the very back until we’ve reached it. The last universe of them all.

Universe: 9999999999999999-99-Z.

Sigh…

I’m so going to hate this part.
> Twilight and Silverstream (Part 6) – On Utopia
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sighed deeply. Right below us was a beautiful looking ball of blue and green. A whole universe that out of the trillions upon trillions of possibilities, which contained the essence of the ugliest word in the Equine Language. One in which that it makes me feel dirty saying, let alone writing it down.

Perfect.

“Let me make something perfectly clear before we go down,” I told them. “This universe below us has an Equestria that is, in countless ways, the perfect country. It’s a country that doesn’t exist, and in our world, it may never exist. There’s a reason why this one is so tucked away in the corner of the multiverse. Because this, right here, is one of the few that was able to take the ideal country and make it work.”

“You mean that this is the only one?” Silverstream asked. I nodded. “Really? Out of who-knows-how-many universes, this is the only one that has a utopia?”

“Do you have any idea how many times creatures from every multiverse has tried to make the perfect society?” I asked her. She shook her head. “Your Headmare should know this perfectly well, that the school counselor had tried at making her own utopia.”

My boss shuttered. “Oh, don’t remind me.”

“Ah, and care to share with the class?”

Twilight frowned. “From what I’ve seen, Starlight tried to make a village in which everypony was equal. Everyone. From the same mane style to having not enough food, even to having the same cutie mark.” She turned to Silverstream. “Don’t get me wrong, Starlight has come a long way since then. But back then… she forced everyone to give up who they were just so that everyone could be happy by being the same.”

“Ah! Very good, boss!” I told her, “You’ve spotted the problem with a good chunk of utopias almost immediately. The philosophy that planted the seeds to their downfall lies with the idea that if you make sure that everyone looks, acts, thinks, and talks alike while getting rid of everyone that doesn’t equal perfection should be destroyed – then all the problems will finally go away! Every government, I repeat, every, government, that I’ve shown you today, came about because something was wrong with the old one and they must be replaced with how a country should ideally run. And I’m not just talking about the Dictators and Anarchists, the Monarchs and Communists – this includes Democracy, Constitutional Monarchies, and Republics as well.

“When one or both of you get into power, you’ll quickly find out that there is no amount of scapegoats in existence to help you wave a magic wand and make everything better without covering your name in blood.”

“If you really believe that,” Twilight pointed out, “why did you bring us here?”

“Because, in philosophy, there is a practical reason to have the idle daydream of utopia. To sketch one is to address the current problems that a country faces and give one perspective as to how to tackle them. By focusing on the ideal versions of what the ideal life could be like, they help us to clearly define what we feel is wrong with the society we have. Think of this world down there,” I pointed a talon towards the planet, “as a lens to help bring whatever plans into focus.

“Oh! And before we begin our descent, there’s one, very important thing to keep in mind.”

“What’s that?” My student inquired.

“Just because this world has managed to figure out how to get their stuff right, doesn’t mean that it’ll work in ours. What would work beautifully in one universe would prove disastrous to another. Got it?” They nodded and dawning the bell-hop outfit complete with a red hat, I flipped a switch. “Going down.”





The table landed before the School of Friendship with a noticeable ‘ding!’ Getting out, my boss and student noticed that Ponyville looks similar, but also… different. The architecture is similar to back home, with beams, white walls, and thatched roofs. However, by the looks of the town, it looks like they had only one architect which repeated the same pattern. Three-floor structures with large windows in contemporary forms, wide enough streets for trees, ponies, and enough carts to keep them lively. The only thing that made this Ponyville interesting in its slightly boring architecture is that each building has its own color.

“Is it me,” Silverstream said aloud, “or does Ponyville look… different?”

“Apart from the symmetry and being more colorful than I last remember,” Twilight observed, “this place is like if Canterlot and Great Northern were put together here. It’s certainly pretty looking. All be it different.” She looked over to where her usual castle was meant to be. “Even my crystal treehouse resembles the town and the school.”

“So, Mr. Discord,” Silverstream inquired, “are we going to go to some palace or-”

“Nope,” I told her, starting to float towards the school. “Here in perfect land, the schools here offer a reflection of the country they live in. Especially how it works. So, if you want to know how this universe works, this is the place to start.”

“But Discord,” Twilight interjected, “What does a school have anything to do with government?”

“Again, the school reflects how this Equestria works. Think of this as a cross-section of how this society functions so these youngsters would have a pretty good idea what to expect out of life.”

“Okay, but who runs this school?”

“You’ll see,” I told her as we entered onto the school grounds.

Almost immediately as we entered into its halls, we noticed that the vibe of this school was… both familiar and completely different at the same time. There was a mix of creatures for sure of both old and young, and many of them carried books and papers around. But there wasn’t boredom anywhere. If anything, the school was radiating in happiness and kindness. We struggled to find so much as a frown from any of them.

I lead them towards a particular place in the school. Mainly where the school faculty is. Especially towards the office of this school’s Headmare. Or, should I say, Headmaster. Behind the glass doors was a rather surprising sight for my boss. It was an old stallion with a wizard’s cap of stars and jingling bells. Sighing, I pushed open the double doors and he looked up. The bearded mage did a double-take before standing up from behind the desk.

“Son?”

“Before you start,” I told him, “I’m a Discord, but not your Discord. I come here with some friends from Universe: 465932178956261-75-A.”

“Does that matter?” He asked, going around the desk to hug me, “You’re back, and in most universes, you are still my son.”

I turned to my boss, her jaw already dislocated itself and was crashing towards the planet’s core. “Star Swirl the Bearded is your father!?”

“It’s more like a Fankenstallion situation with wanting a child of their own flair to it, but one thing at a time.” I gently pushed Da- Star Swirl away. “So before you say anything, we’re here because of these two,” I pointed a thumb at my boss and my student, “wanted to know about balancing power and government by the time it’s their turn to rule their countries. I’m not here for any tear-jerking family reunion. Nor am I to apologize over stealing the silverware. I still stand by in saying that those are mine.”

He blinked. “Oh… I see…” Clearing his throat he turned to the other two. “As much as you both resembled some creatures I know, you two are strangers to our world. So, if I may, allow myself to have the honor of welcoming you both.”

My boss thanked him but followed up with “You know, in the other universes we’ve visited, all of them are set in government buildings. Yet, we’ve been sent here to a school. Why?”

Star Swirl smiled. “I’d say you came to the right place. This school is one of many across the country that not only prepares our students for the real world but gives them things that teach them how to live their lives happily and wisely.”

“Excuse me,” Silverstream raised her claw. “What kind of government is this world, and how does it work?”

“Follow me.” So, we followed him out of the office and down the halls. “The most important thing to know,” he began, “is that the curriculum here has been reverse-engineered from the things that used to give creatures the most trouble in the old days. Here, we teach them four essential parts of life that no child or adult could live without. It teaches you to do four things: how to find your profession and settle in a job that you can love; how to be confident, defuse conflicts, and know your own mind; how to have satisfying relationships from family to the romantic; and most importantly, how to wind down and not lose your temper.”

“So… like a School of Friendship?” Twilight asked with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“No, life.” He responded. “This school does teach other things too such as mathematics, languages, how to read and write. It also teaches history, philosophy, sociology, psychology, art, and literature in ways that are prescribed to many like medicine.”

“What does that mean?” Silverstream inquired.

“Unlike the past, we asked an important question: what are these subjects for? One can learn the ins and outs of Algebra, Biology, or History of Food, but it’s another when applied to the real world. It is unwise to shove someone out to sea by teaching them only physics. The education here, we believe, should be something that anyone could turn to for learning, not only what’s important in life, but to find practical knowledge and wisdom.

“Take, for instance, government.” Star Swirl pushed open a pair of double doors into an assembly hall full of students and teachers. All of them lively chatting at the moment. “What you are seeing is a reflection of how our government for the nation functions. The best way to help students not only understand how it functions but gives them experience and guidance in life if they become politicians, is to practice it on a small but important level. You see these students?” We nodded. “This class is an introduction to government, and we are about to witness their final exam. If they pass, if they choose, they’ll become the deciders for choosing events and teachers for the school to offer up to me for my approval.”

“So… this is a Democracy?” Silverstream asked. “But is that a good idea though? The last time we saw a Democracy in action, the voters there chose based on instinct.”

“Ah! But not in our country.” Star Swirl told her. “You see, we measure the success of our students not just on their grades with learning new things, but their wisdom too. This school, like so many others, teach students to not only think critically but to distinguish their reason from their feelings as well. The students who are in this room have proven that they are sound-minded and taught how to think what effect their decisions would have in the long run.”

I stroke my goatee. “Yeah? And what about the students who didn’t qualify? Are you discriminating against students based on their reason and wisdom?”

“Yes.” This shocked my boss and student.

“But how could you say that?” Twilight questioned. “How can anyone turn down someone based on what they think?”

“Are you referring to someone’s culture?” Star Swirl questioned. “Because their judgment of what’s considered right or wrong isn’t what is being judged here.”

“How does that make sense?” Silverstream interrogated. “Isn’t judging based on what’s right or wrong?”

“No. Because what you are thinking, that someone’s idea of what’s normal, their customs, traditions, morality even – they all obey borders. Reason, wisdom, and truth do not. These things are universal, but the mistake of the old days is that it was once thought that just forming so much as an opinion is as natural as breathing air. But we’ve come to accept that making one, especially to help you decide how to run a school or a country, is a skill to be learned.

“These students got here because they applied the method of Socrates. They question if choosing whatever policy or applying teacher is based on reason and not because they were persuaded emotionally. In fact, before they cast a vote, these students, like voters in the real world, are questioned if they made their decision based on rationality. None of these students are taught to conform to this way of thinking but taught to think for themselves with reason.”

“But how do you test if they’re qualified to vote on reason?” Twilight asked. “Especially when they might grow up to help run Equestria one day.”

“Observe.” Star Swirl pointed out as the class began.

For the sake of time, I’m going to give you a summary of what happened. A teacher called on the students to pay attention as two ponies came up. One was a pony that, the only way I can describe it is if Boredom was personified as a forty-year-old stallion who’s only exciting words he could muster is when he explains the tax system. The other was Pinkie. Unlike the other stallion that only presented what kind of teacher he would be with homework and tests, Pink’s motivated the crowd with confetti, free candy, and promises to have more fun.

Needless to say, Pinkie won the vote by 70 %. To which, even with the crowd cheering about this victory, this universe’s Pinkie delivered the greatest punchline that I’ve heard all day.

“Thank you everypony!” She began, “For those that have picked me to be the winner, I got news for you. Congratulations you guys! You failed! Yay!” The class became stunned quiet when the news hit them like Celestia not paying attention to where she was flying into while eating a whole red velvet cake.

“Uh…” We heard one of the students say. “What?”

“You failed!” She said smiling. “The 70 % of you that voted me in, you failed the class! I mean, seriously, what were all of you thinking? I don’t know a thing about running a school, or how to teach. I’m only a party animal that knows how to bake, cheer ponies up, when their birthdays are and such. But hey, you all thought that between the two of us, I was the most qualified because I seemed to be the most fun, right? Only, I don’t have much experience unlike this guy,” she pointed to Mr. Dull. “All I did was manipulate your emotional side, bribe you with sweets and longer breaks. I didn’t improve anything at all.”

Just when a good chunk of the class was showing some long faces, Pinkie added, “But hey, there’s no need to beat yourselves over it. Just because you failed the class, doesn’t mean that it was all a waste of time. This is an object lesson, after all. Just because someone sounds good, doesn’t mean that they’re good for you. You have to really look at what you vote for is actually helpful for you and will help others grow. Consider if those being elected are qualified for the job, or that policy is based on reason and not on prejudice or emotion. So, don’t feel bad that you didn’t pass, but in the future, do really think about what you are about to agree to.”

She added to the rest of the class, “And for those 30 % that voted for the other guy, congratulations! You’ve passed! This means that you guys are qualified to take a closer look at the government. But I warn you, what you vote on are gonna get a little tougher. But on the bright side, you’ve already faced the most difficult thing with this voting thing. So, give yourselves a round of applause!”

There was the expected sound of polite applause before class was dismissed. As we left with the students, my boss turned to Star Swirl. “So, what happens to the students here?”

“Those that passed that class will go on deciding on a policy, events and who is best qualified to run the school. And when they graduate, they will have enough experience to go onto have more ambitious roles in society in the realm of politics. Those who had failed, this is a good experience they should have.”

“But why?” Silverstream pointed out, “They seem pretty disappointed back there.”

“True. But this is an important thing to learn. Voting is a skill to be learned and not by blind guesswork or that what they say sounds good.”

“So, is this school teaching them to vote against their interests?” Twilight questioned.

“On the contrary. We’re teaching them to think if what they’re voting for is good for them and everyone in the long term. It takes time and practice, but with the right set of skills, they will have the experience on how to decide before being granted their voting license.”

“But isn’t a little… creepy?” My boss asked and both Star Swirl and I asked her at the same time what she meant. “I mean, being taught how to think carefully about voting is one thing, but do you have to do it in such a… uh… paternalistic way?”

“I don’t understand why it would be.” He replied. “Citizens accept that we need help with many things, so there’s no terror in being in a nannying culture. Since this is a complete Democracy, the voters know and trust that the government is always acting to defend them on their own best long-term interests. It’s a force that enables them to realize their potential. In Equestria, the only time that our government bans certain things and businesses is if they do quite unhelpful things and don’t show how to be kinder. There’s nothing spooky about it as it’s properly democratically sincere. After all, this school wouldn’t exist if this place didn’t prove that it is indeed helpful.”

“Even if that’s true,” Twilight asked, “what about other things like how to run an economy, the news, policy for raising foals, tolerance, or mental health?”

Mr. Know-it-all smiled, “Then you’ve come to the right place.”

From there, he showed us the more interesting classes where students, young and old go to. We saw an economy class where they not only talk about how a Capitalist system works but showed how to be more humane. That it helped students learn that by entering into the right sort of work where it is meaningful to them through assisting them to find what kind of work that best fits each of them. For those going into being an entrepreneur, they stressed that the most important thing to keep in mind is to properly and deeply satisfy their customers, even if it doesn’t flatter the balance sheet. That being a philanthropist is frowned upon as a sign of extracting too much money from their business and not being courageous enough to risk money investing in properly meaningful goals. Where respect in Perfect Land is given, not just for becoming rich, but for how serious the problem they fixed was while making their wealth.

In a class on relationships – especially for the romantic kinds – Twilight and Silverstream were stunned to find out that Romanticism is an idea that’s frowned upon. As they don’t talk endlessly of finding the right one as they came to realize there’s no such thing. If anything, the students in that class learn that it isn’t wise to marry based on instinct. Because of that, Star Swirl explained to them that Psychotherapy has become highly popular. That they’ve been taught from an early age that imperfection from their partners should be expected and be treated with sympathy. So much so, in fact, that it was entertaining to hear the students ask one another: “And uh… So, in what way are you crazy?”

Star Swirl also showed off how there are classrooms in how to raise and take care of foals growing up. The country became aware of the assumption that no one has a clue how to bring up a kid – just how not everyone knows how to perform brain surgery or steer a massive ship in a storm. Such training for students starts at an early age. When my Hippogriff student asked if this was necessary just so someone could have a baby, Star replied: “Of course you can have a baby without going through the training, but that would be like an explorer setting out to climb Mt. Everhoof in his slippers. It can be done, but it’s really difficult to do.” Twilight asked him how do they know if they raised a foal successfully, and he tells her that there is a nationwide parenting program that looks into this sort of thing. That in this Utopia, no child is considered successfully raised unless they grow up with hardly having the desire to be famous or supernaturally good looking.

The school does have a newspaper, one which does report bad news. But like some Universes I could name; this one pulls off an unusual skill. Where after one reads the news, nopony comes away terrified or burning up with pure rage. It is a reflection of most news sources in that Equestria, which is drawn up and edited by philosophers that make sure each article comes out with a profound lesson in maturity and calm. “The purpose of the news,” Star Swirl told us, “is that it’s not just about things that happened that day. But to guide those towards the information that can best help the readers, and their community to flourish. This is a branch in Equestria’s biggest industries – Wisdom.”

There is, of course, an art class in which Rarity is the lead teacher. But what we found, however, is that both student and teacher have given up on the idea that art should be for art’s sake. Because being an artist is a job that has a practical purpose. So, to make the best ideas to be vivid and persuasive. That they can be kept at the front of the viewer’s minds at all times. When we interviewed Rarity, she said that art is to remind all of us to be calm, forgiving, open up to experience, and be properly awed by whatever comes in our way. If anything, art in the Perfect country is part of the country’s Mental Health Service.

But you might have noticed by now that during all of this, I kept silent as we witnessed one thing after another that just added fuel to my content of this Universe.

By the time our tour of Utopia was through, I was more than ready to leave. So, within our first moment to finally hop on our Cafeteria Table to make the journey back to our home Universe, the girls took notice of my behavior. “Mr. Discord,” Silverstream asked, “are you okay? You’ve been sulking ever since we got to that Utopia place.”

I huffed as planets go by. “I’m just a little bit disappointed is all.”

“Why?” Twilight inquired.

“Have either of you noticed the biggest, glaring problem with Utopia. Something that I personally have a problem with.”

“Daddy Issues?”

My eyes narrowed at my boss. “You are walking on very, thin, ice,” I said between my teeth. “But no, did either of you notice something off? Something missing? Something that is the polar opposite of me?”

“Um…” Silverstream hummed in thought. “That it’s… practically perfect?”

“Exactly!” I threw my arms up. “That universe is too perfect! And what’s more, it’s sooo… sooooo… boring!”

“What?” They both asked.

“Think about it,” I replied, “once you have reached that state of perfection when those problems are solved, that conflicts are dashed away, when there is way too much harmony… that place irks me on a personal level because once they’ve reached that state, then what’s the point of life? Out of all of these governments and universes out there, that one is going to fall the hardest. As much as some don’t like it, the thing that every single one of these universes with their governments tends to overlook again, and again, and again, is that they need conflict! They need some chaos to grow! You can’t make something better if you don’t have anything worth fighting for! Even a story needs some kind of conflict to make it a little bit interesting! But that universe? It boggles my mind that out of the near infinity of wonders there are, that they’ve managed to invent and perfect boredom!”

I heaved. After cooling down from my rant, I looked over to Twilight and Silverstream and sighed. “So, that concludes the lesson,” I told them.

We returned to our home universe, and for good measure, I turned back time to the second after we left. And I returned the table back to the cafeteria, finished my lunch, and returned to class.





But that’s not the end of this part of the story.

Later in the day, I was called up to Twilight’s office. When I got there, she and Silverstream were there wanting to talk to me.

“Before we say anything,” Twilight told me, “we just wanted to say our thanks for taking the time to show us the many ways of what Equestria could have been with different ideas of government.”

My student nodded, “As well as to show me about power, and the extremes each one had. You showed us that not just creating a way to rule, but also doing all the ruling is a difficult balancing act. Something that not everyone can do.”

“Okay, so why did you call me in for?” I questioned.

They looked at each other for a moment. “For a few reasons,” my boss said, “firstly, to thank you for giving us the insight about the ways power could be done, as well as their pros and cons. In the future, when it’s our turn, we’ll look back on today and strongly consider if whatever we wanted to do is indeed what’s right for the countries we’ll serve.”

I raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“It’s just…” Silverstream touched the tips of her talons together. “We also thought about what you said with Utopia and… to some extent, you’re right. Although out of all of them, it was the most ideal, but it’s also the most unrealistic. You are right that conflict, while preferable not to deal with, is essential. As long as there’s room to disagree, then perhaps they could lend a claw into forming a better society then they first encountered it. Maybe, we’ll never get to Utopia, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give up or ignore problems altogether.”

I sighed. “Good… Good… Is there anything else?”

“Yes, one more thing,” Twilight said, leaning forward. “Discord, I know that this isn’t my place, nor is it my problem. And I don’t know what happened between you and Star Swirl, but clearly, I can see that there’s something in you that’s been left unresolved.”

I frowned. “What are you implying?”

She breathed in, “All I’m saying, as a friend, that whatever problems you have with him, it is best to straighten them out while you still can.”

“With that,” I told her, “I believe this conversation is over.” With that, I snapped a paw and returned home for the evening.
> Applejack - Why Do We Lie
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All things considering, Guys Night was a success. Luck was on their side as they covered much ground and were able to leave it off from a really good spot. The cardboard army was defeated, assassins missed their mark on Sir McBiggun, and it all ended with a satisfying conclusion of getting the next clue to finding Shmarity. The pizza was delicious, the jokes abundant and hilarious. All in all, it was perfect.
 
  By the crack of sunrise, Discord was walking Big Macintosh home, for the sole reason of putting ideas together for their next session. Hovering next to the stallion with a little black book, the Ex-God of Chaos was busily jotting down the suggestion. After all, it is going to be his turn to be the story master next Saturday. 
 
“…. So the flaming, poisoned tip arrows in the temple of doom would be too much?”
 
Big Mac raised an eyebrow, “And ya don’t think it isn’t?”
 
Discord shrugged, “Personally it’s either that or the buzz saws that would pop out from the floor – but I think the latter would be a bit overkill. After all, if we’re going into a jungle setting where there’s a stone temple smack dab in the middle of it, you would think there would be a trap or twelve in there.”
 
“Point taken.” Mac mused over for a minute. “But if we’re gonna do this, the least ya can do is ta be a little more original then what Daring Do faces in those books. If ya goin’ ta go fer a jungle temple, then at least be different than just have a monster that’s released from by a button.”
 
Nodding, Discord nodded it down. “It’ll be challenging, but I’m certainly up for it.”
 
Soon enough, they walked up to a hill to where they could see the farm itself; along with a rather curious sight. Although they were out of hearing range, there was something going on as Applejack was giving quite the stern (if not angry) lecture to Applebloom. However, instead of listening, the little sister was talking back. Whatever happened before Big Mac or Discord arrived, it must have been really upsetting. A hoof pointed here, a stomp there, and shouting. 
 
“The hey got inta them?” Big Mac asked aloud.
 
“They’re arguing about how Applebloom lied that Granny’s strudel is still great when in fact it isn’t.”
 
Mac was about to ask how exactly he knew that, but his question was quickly answered when he saw Discord with a pair of binoculars. “Ya can read lips too?”
 
“When you’ve been a statue for millennia, you tend to pick up on a few things. But that’s not neither here nor there.” He lowered the binoculars. “Apparently your little sis is grounded and still upset about it. And your other one can’t understand why she would do that.” This got him thinking. “I’ll leave you to your family issues, it appears that I have work to do.”
 
Mac raises an eyebrow. “Why? What are ya goin’ on doin’?”
 
“It seems that Applejack is in need of my services.”
 



 
Out in the apple orchard, while Applejack didn’t say a word, she was still upset. With every swift kick of each trunk, her mind still replayed what happened over breakfast. It started as soon as she has woken up when she noticed that Granny Smith was already whipping up their meal before heading out to the fields. But no sooner had she arrived that she couldn’t help but notice that her grandmother was putting the recipe of apple strudel in a very unconventional way. Even though the old mare insisted that she knew exactly what she was doing, the younger wasn’t convinced that sawdust, buttercup flowers, cayenne pepper, and shaving cream were part of the recipe. 
 
By the time she put breakfast down on the table, Applebloom entered. Despite the look on her sister’s face that knew very well that something was off about the strudel, Applejack watched in disgust as she heard her own sibling say, “Ya really outdid yerself this time, Granny.”
 
It wasn’t just because that Appleboom lied that got her upset. It was over the fact that she had to tell her sister, again, that lying was only going to lead to bad consequences. She spent a good ten or so minutes to present an argument to her that if she kept continuing on lying to their grandmother that her cooking is still as good as ever when, in fact, it isn’t, then it would only escalate things. However, when it was clear that the little sister wasn’t listening, she had to ground her for the day.
 
‘How many times do we have ta drill it in her head?’ She asked herself rather bitterly, after another swift buck to a tree trunk. ‘Lyin’ won’t help solve anythin’! There ain’t no need fer a good pony like herself ta be goin’ about fibbin’.’
 
Another hard kick against a tree, and instead of apples falling from its branches, dozens of green question marks fell into the baskets. Applejack blinked. “What in tarnation?” She looked up at the tree to notice that it was growing so very bizarre fruit. It wasn’t the only thing that was hanging from it. In one of the branches, hanging on from a question mark cane was Discord in a green suit and bowler hat.
 
“Riddle me this,” he said, “when is it that something false can be true, and something true can be false?”
 
“Discord?”
 
“Wrong!” He hopped out from the branches, giving her a small whack on the forehead. While the farmer was rubbing the spot that was hurting, Discord landed on the tip of her snout. “Answer: When it needs to be.”
 
“Discord! What the hay do ya think yer doin’?!” Applejack tried to brush him off like he was a pesky fly. “Ah’m tryin’ ta work here!”
 
“Oh-ho no you don’t!” Discord retorted, growing back to his original size. “You, little miss, need to hear this.”
 
“Hear what? Ah ain’t got time fer any of yer nonsense.” 
 
Frowning, the spirit of random clapped his hands together, and the two of them felt a shockwave as everything from the rustling leaves in the trees to the flight of birds froze in position. “Now you do.”
 
“What did you jus-”
 
“Freeze time for a while.” Discord interrupted. “I couldn’t help but notice this morning how you were scolding your little sister over a lie she told.”
 
“How did you…” She was about to ask but figuring that she was talking to Discord, it’s best not try to question it. “Well yeah, so what? It’s none of yer business.”
 
He shrugged, “With personal matters, you are absolutely right. However, when it comes to your mentality – oh it truly is my business. Being the guy that teaches philosophy in this universe, I just felt that you’re in need of my lessons.”
 
Applejack deadpanned. “Ah ain’t yer student, ya know.”
 
“That’s where you’re wrong. Not everyone wants wisdom, but they certainly do need it. And you, as of right now at this very moment, are in need of it. So while I can guess what the issue is with you personally, I want to hear it directly from you first.”
 
She sighed, “Ya ain’t gonna leave until Ah give inta yer games, is that right?”
 
“Hm… Pretty much, yeah.”
 
With an annoyed groan, she said, “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with. Yes, there’s somethin’ botherin’ me like a housefly that overstayed its welcome. In short, Ah caught my little sis lyin’ ta Granny over something that Ah think shouldn’t be lyin’ about in the first place.”
 
“Oh? Now, why is this bothering you so much?”
 
“Because we’re Apples! We ain’t suppose ta lie. It’s wrong and it does nopony good except just tryin’ ta avoid responsibility. Now Ah’ve been tryin’ hard ta be a role model fer Applebloom as long as Ah could remember. On top of bein’ the whole Element of Honesty thin’, Ah have ta live up ta what Ah stand for. It’s just… Ah just can’t understand why anyone would as good as Applebloom would go around tyin’ lies. If she’d really valued the truth as she so claims ta be, she would have told Granny that what she made this mornin’ is jus’ awful. That she ain’t makin’ things the way she used ta.”
 
Discord paced around for a moment to consider this problem. “Perhaps the best way to look at it is to ask yourself one question: Why does one lie, to begin with?”
 
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t it obvious? Most ponies lie because they could protect themselves, shift the blame on someone else as long as it ain’t them.”
 
The chaos spirit hummed, walking up a trunk of one of the apple trees. “Like how a foal would knock over a vase and blame it on the cat even though it’s clear they did it?”
 
She nodded, “Exactly. Most lies are either that or just flat out slander. Lies can hurt ponies ya know.”
 
“So according to you, anyone who lies is doing it to avoid responsibility or make it so that someone suffers because of it?”
 
“Pretty much. That what all lies do, right?” Discord didn’t look convinced. “Oh c’ mon! Ya ain’t sayin’ that there’s a way that lies can be used fer good?”
 
“All I’m saying is that there is a legitimate reason for why anyone would do so. Maybe not a smart one, but there is a solid reason to do so.” Pulling his tail off, it morphs into a snake in which its tail wrapped around one of the falling apples. “In your head, you’ve become so conditionally brainwashed in the idea that the truth is always worth it, even if it means getting yourself in major trouble. That any liar is revolting because they do all they can to avoid a necessary but important truth for the sake of their low personal gain, am I right?”
 
Applejack nodded, and the snake that used to be Discord’s tail lowered an apple in front of her and started talking. “However, the so-called ‘truth’ is that those like your little sister lies don’t deceive for their own benefit.”
 
“That’s a bunch of horseapples!”
 
“Oh? Do you think this too is a lie? According to your own logic, I would have something to gain from not being responsible, hurt your sister, or perhaps even to protect myself. But you know there’s a problem with all of those – to what do I have to gain out of this? Confronting your prejudice isn’t irresponsible. I don’t have any personal gripe against Applebloom. And what need would I have for protecting myself from you? There isn’t a thing that I would lie about. 
 
“Instead,” Discord’s tail offered up the apple to her, “perhaps I could give you a gift. A new perspective on dishonesty you never saw before. To give you insight on why any good creature would want to deceive.”
 
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “And all Ah have ta do is take a bite of that, right?”
 
“Of course,” Discord said, “I was originally going to have you choose between a blue and red pill, but that trope has been done to death and given the current circumstances… the readers would go on for years how this thing doesn’t make sense.”
 
“You really confuse me sometimes.” Applejack took hold of the apple. “But whatever. Let’s get this over with.” 
 
She took a bite. 
 
The closest thing that the mare could comprehend as to what exactly happened next was as if Time and Space itself had exploded. All over the orchard, trees reverted back to their saplings and were chopped down into firewood at the same time. Dead relatives and future foals could go about working and playing at the same moment. Ponyville was simultaneously founded and destroyed for good at the same point in time. Equestria began and ended, she saw the first ponies being born and the last die. She saw instantly the universe being born and destroyed at the same instant – along with everything else. To say the least, it was giving her a headache.
 
However, the only thing that was constant within this shifting, unpredictable landscape was Discord. “Speaking as someone that has been around the block for – putting it quite generously – a while, I can tell you that there’s a reason why even the good lie. The truth is that all intelligent creatures are always ready, and at times, excited to tell lies. This may sound strange to you at first, but the good don’t do it to protect themselves, nor are they disloyal to facts out of dishonesty’s sake.” He knelt down to her. “As impossible as this sounds at first for you, they do it because they love the truth so much that they will, out of good-will, lie to those they care about what they’re deceiving.”
 
Applejack shut her eyes tight, “How in the HAY does any of that make sense!?”
 
Discord stood straight up and, with a thunderous clap of his hands, the universe and time stood still, melted, and then something a little more slightly coherent came into being. Applejack blinked for a moment, but it became clear as to what exactly she was looking at. In every direction were screens that depicted those that are familiar to her, historical events, and what she assumes to be the future – all together in a mixed-up, jumbled mess. 
 
“Where did ya take me?”
 
“This?” Discord waved a claw. “To help you understand what I was talking about in the simplest terms possible, I thought it would be a good idea to show you time itself. Every moment that has is and will be is being projected here.”
 
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Oh what? Yer jus’ gonna pick out the moment where me and Applebloom had that argument this mornin’?”
 
“Nope!” Discord smiled. “That would be way too predictable! Instead,” He reached into the ether with his paw to fish out a particular screen. “The best one to choose why someone as good as your little sis would lie come from something that won’t accrue until a good… thirty years later.”
 
He pulled out a particular screen, upon which was a pony that Applejack recognized as her younger sister. Only this one looks much more… mature. Older even. The Applebloom she saw was taller, had a long red mane and her signature pink bow was missing. She was with a foal that Applejack didn’t recognize and was with an older version of her in the kitchen. If anything, to her it was even more off-putting to see a vision of her much older self baking.
 
“Here ya go youngin’s.” The ancient Applejack said, putting a tray of apple pie down on the table. “Jus’ like how mah ma used ta make it.” However, just by looking at it, the present Applejack could tell instantly that it wasn’t. The thing that was placed down was a steaming mess that looked like somepony scooped whatever was in the swamp and tossed it into the oven.
 
The foal on the screen seemed to reflect the present Applejack’s expression while Applebloom gave the older one a kind smile. “It certainly is sis. Thanks, fer goin’ though the trouble.”
 
“Oh it ain’t no trouble one bit!” the granny Applejack happily said, “This oughtta keep ya fed fer a good long while.”
 
“It certainly would, this looks amazing.” The foal looked at Applebloom, taken aback at what she just said. “Let’s put it in a basket so we can take it with us.”
 
After this was done and they said their goodbyes, Applebloom and the foal then walked off the farm. Then, out of hearing distance, the foal asked, “Aunt Bloom, why did you do that?”
 
“Do what?”
 
“C’ mon, Ah know ya just lied to her jus’ now. That apple pie looks awful!”
 
Applebloom sighed, “Yeah Ah know, but the thing is, Ah kinda have ta.”
 
“Why?”
 
She stopped for a moment, looked behind her before turning back to her nephew. “Look, it ain’t somethin’ that Ah expect ya ta get, heck, even Applejack never got it. Tell me, have ya ever heard that at times, the truth must always be protected by a bodyguard of lies?”
 
Her nephew nodded. “Ah think that was some general guy that said it.”
 
“Wind Carrothill,” she nodded, “at the time he meant that as a way ta keep really big secrets against enemies. However, when Ah heard it at school long ago, it gave me a new idea that Ah never considered before.”
 
“And what’s that?”
 
“That sometimes, ponies are walkin’ about believin’ in things that ain’t true. Not because they’re bein’ mean about it, but because that’s how they see themselves. Tellin’ them they’re wrong is like swingin’ a hammer over their hooves. Bein’ told that they’re wrong is so painful that they would either fight ya or flee away because how they’d see themselves is wrapped up with whatever they think is true. Take Applejack, her mind is slowly goin’ and she still thinks she can bake better than Pinkie. However, we both know that ain’t true. If Ah told her that pie in the basket is bad, to her, Ah might as well say, ‘Ah don’t like yer pie and Ah hate you.’ But we both know that ain’t true at all. Ya see? When she’s blinded by something that ain’t true, then Ah has to give her a small dose of a lie so that the bigger truth remains safe. Ya understand?”
 
The nephew nodded. “So what you’re saying is that you lie so that you won’t have to hurt Aunt Applejack’s feelings?”
 
“Yep. And ya know why?”
 
Thinking about this for a moment, the nephew guessed, “Because, even if it is a lie, you do it because you want to let her know that she’s still loved – right?”
 
“Yeah, ya get it.” She said, rubbing her nephew’s head.
 
The present Applejack looked on, stunned. “So… She does it out of love?”
 
“Kinda,” Discord said, disregarding that screen. “She is aware that most good creatures lie because they’re aware that others tend to believe in things that aren’t always true, but they identify themselves so closely to it. They’re carefully told, of course, because they do love the truth, in it that they want to make sure that others are aware of a greater truth than the facts of what just happened. Your sister’s advice is especially useful to understand some trickier situations.” He reached into the void of time and pulled out another screen. “For example, you know about Mrs. Cake, right?”
 
“Yeah? What about her?”
 
“You know how last week she went to Vanhoover for that baking convention?”
 
She shrugged. “Yeah? So?”
 
“Apparently, she told her husband that-” He pulled up the screen where Mrs. Cake telling her husband while their foals played that:
 
“It was pretty boring, really. After the convention, I spent my time in my hotel room, ordering room service.”
 
Discord put a paw over the screen, in which it froze. “But that, however, is a lie.”
 
Applejack looked up at Discord in alarm. “What are ya talkin’ about?”
 
Moving his paw away, he flung it to one side and the screen reeled quickly backward until Discord let it play at one point. “What Mrs. Cake didn’t tell her husband, is that after the convention, she was feeling rather down so she went to the hotel’s bar.” The screen showed a rosy-cheeked Mrs. Cake with a glass in her hooves, sweetly chatting to a younger, good looking stallion who was probably just as drunk as she is. “While there she was caught up yapping away with the nearest pony who was just as plastered as she was…” Then he fast-forwards time to a hotel room with them kissing away. “Eventually, things got carried away and they slip into a nearby bed.”
 
Applejack was stunned. “She didn’t-”
 
“And before you say she cheated, not exactly,” Discord held up an X-Ray scan to show what was going on beneath the sheets. “They didn’t make love, as you can see, they’re still too drunk to do that, but they did have a sweet time. Despite the intimacy, they both knew that following morning that this didn’t mean much, if at all, to either of them. Neither of them found love with one another. They both knew how little this was, and they won’t likely see each other again.” He fast-forwards again back to the part where Mrs. Cake lied to her husband. “So, by the time she gets back, and her spouse tells her how things went, she distorts what really happened.” Suddenly he snapped a claw, and the screen froze. “So, if by your standards that if even she should never lie, ever, for any reason for any circumstance, then tell me, how do you think things would have played out if she really did give him an unfiltered version of the truth?”
 
Applejack took off her Stetson. “Sheesh… But Mrs. Cake still loves Mr. Cake, right?” Discord nodded. “So… Ah reckon that even if she did tell him the truth, it would just… destroy him beyond repair. If he knew, he’d think that she doesn’t love him anymore and would probably seek out a divorce for it.”
 
Discord nodded. “But if that were to happen, would Mr. Cake’s judgment of the truth, be true?”
 
“Well, no.” She rubbed her head. “Ah suppose she wasn’t exactly in her right mind after some drinks. And she Ah suppose that she still loved Mr. Cake, despite bein’ with somepony else. It didn’t look like she did it ta be cruel.”
 
“But for a moment back there,” Discord pointed out, “you almost said otherwise. You almost did make the connection between infidelity and callousness. But I suppose for you, it’s understandable. If you hear the news from your special somepony that ‘I spent the night with someone from Vanhoofer,’ which is true, to mean ‘I don’t love you anymore’ which is not true. However, when someone as good as Mrs. Cake said to her spouse, ‘I didn’t sleep with anyone,’ which isn’t true at all, she’s trying to secure a greater idea: ‘I still love you, sweetie.’ Which is overwhelmingly true.”
 
“But you’re making it sound like good ponies lie to others is a good thing.”
 
“I didn’t say that.” He pushes the screen away. “I’m saying that sometimes ponies do so as a form of kindness. Those like Applebloom know that most effective way of telling the truth isn’t by using word for incriminating word accuracy, it’s about making sure that, once spoken, the other will be left with a true picture of reality.”
 
With these words, Applejack’s ears folded back, a screen floated by them in which showed her argument with her sister that morning. But as it went by, she wasn’t focused on her words, but rather her sister’s expression. Angry, but heartbroken of a sister that simply will never understand.
 
“Riddle me this,” Discord said, lifting his tail, “how is someone the villain, but not the  villain?” his tail snapped, and Applejack was back to an ordinary, moving orchard. 
 
On the way back, Applejack thought about what Discord had said. Even though a part of her wasn’t entirely convinced, the improvised lesson did provide her with a perspective that she could never imagine thinking about. Her sister may have lied, but for something nobler then she had given credit for.
 
It took several minutes until she walked into the farmhouse, up the stairs and came face to face with her sister’s door. After giving it a few knocks, her sister, still sour from that morning looked up to her. “What do you want?”
 
Applejack sighed, “AB, Ah wanna talk.”
> Starlight - If the Worst Comes to the Worst
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a long time, Starlight didn’t know exactly what to think. Alone in her office, she was staring at the shut doors, letting her thoughts wander and trying to find a place to settle on. Even though the school had ended hours ago where students have probably gone home or retired to their dorm rooms, she remained there with her thoughts. She knew of the reasons why. Several hours ago, Twilight had come to her saying that she is naming her to take on the role of Headmare of the School of Friendship. Knowing Twilight, she was most likely prepared to take upon the task of running the school from paperwork to organizing events. She was most likely ready to take up responsibility if something did go wrong.
 
At the same time, on her desks where the profiles of ponies that may one day take her place as a councilor. She had spent several hours studying the qualifications of each and slowly narrowing them down. Since she would be in charge of choosing the next pony that would take up the stresses of the job. Especially when it involves giving guidance to students or being a referee to the teachers at any time, she has to choose carefully, not only for her own sake but for the students as well.
 
Both of these have the root problem in which made her stare at the wood on the doors. That being… what if something goes wrong and it’s her fault? What if she chose the wrong pony to replace her? What if a student comes to the new councilor and they’re unprepared to assist? What if she can’t do a good enough job as Twilight did? What if everything falls apart and it’s her fault? 
 
‘I know I need help,’ she thought. ‘But do I need… his help?’
 
Despite Discord being on his good behavior and sometimes students come to him for advice (not that she minded as it helped split up the work), there was a part of her that made her hesitate. However, the philosophy teacher was good at giving the advice anyone needed. Even some of the teachers have turned to him from time to time. Yet, she hadn’t talked to him since the Machiavelli incident. However, given the change in circumstances, she made up her mind as she knew that she had to go and speak with him.
 
Several minutes of navigating through the hallways and pass the row of classrooms that she stood before the door of Discord’s classroom. With a sigh, she knocked on it. 
 
“It’s open,” Discord’s muffled voice called out. 
 
Starlight turned the knob, only to get hit in the face with sand, burying her almost instantly. Digging her way out from the instant sand dune, she gave an annoyed glare at the cracked opening of sand and the doorframe where Discord’s head was peering through. 
 
“I was going to say mind the sand,” he said, “but you opened it before I could warn you.”
 
The mare’s horn glowed, and the sand in the hallway was surrounded by her pink aura to be moved back into the space that was the classroom. “Discord, what are you doing?”
 
“Well, I was digging out Hamunaptra with a spoon,” Discord told her, “then you knocked on the door that was already buried in the sand, and now you’re annoyed at me. So, come on in.”
 
Starlight further used her magic to create solid enough stairs so she could climb up to the sandy desert where Discord stood. She shielded her eyes from the sun that was baking the dunes they stood over. Here and there, there were ancient ruins that stuck out from the shifting sands of this cursed land.
 
“Now what brings you to Southern Equestria, Comrade?” Discord asked, tossing the silver teaspoon to the side. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
 
“Yeah…” Starlight conjured up a sun umbrella. “Normally I don’t come to you with these sorts of things. But now… I have to make an exception.”
 
“Oh? And what exactly does the all-wise Starlight would need my expertise?”
 
“Well, it’s about what I’m expected to do.” She explained. “Now that Twilight has designated me as the future Headmare of the School and me trying to figure out who to pass on the torch with my job – so to speak.”
 
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
 
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m looking forward to taking up the massive responsibility. However…”
 
Discord’s ears perked up. “Yes?”
 
“Well… at the same time, I’m just worried is all.” Discord asked her what she meant by that. “I’m worried that once I am in charge and that I found someone to become the new school counselor, then something horrific will happen that’ll be entirely my fault. Even if it’s unintentional, I’m afraid that I might lose that position because I wasn’t ready for it. Or even with whoever I choose to become the next councilor that they won’t be good enough and I’d get blamed for hiring them in the first place.”
 
“So, in other words, you’re worried that the worst not only might happen,” he said, craning his neck down to her eye-level, “but it’s going to happen. Right?”
 
She nodded. “It’s something I’ve been dealing with for years now. I mean, can you blame me? With losing touch with a friend once, then nearly ending time itself out of pettiness, then almost made a student go missing… I mean, imagine the mistakes that I’m going to make and have to be held responsible for.”
 
“Ah, the ‘I’m terrified that something is gonna happen to me and I’m completely unprepared for it,’ fear. As it so happens, you’re in luck! Because I have the best medicine for that you’ve ever seen.”
 
“Yeah?” Starlight raised an eyebrow, “And how are you going to do that?”
 
Discord stuck his claw into the sand as if looking for something. “Have you ever heard of an ancient Pegasi philosopher named,” he then pulled out a marble bust of a curly mane and bearded stallion, “Seneca?”
 
“I know a little of his biography, but I don’t think I’ve covered his philosophy yet.”
 
“Ah good! Lecture time!” He juggled the bust over to his lion paw. “Once upon a time, Seneca here was known to be an author and statespony for the Pegasi Empire, who had the unluckiest job in the world to be the personal adviser to the nut-ball, Emperor Nero. Everything we know about his philosophy is from the letters he wrote to his distressed friends who were asking for his help.
 
“For example, a friend of his named Lucilius, who was a civil servant found out that there was a lawsuit against him that threatened to end his career in one fell swoop. So in a panic, he asked the philosopher for advice to help him out. So, to help you out, I’m going to follow what he wrote back in his letter.”
 
“And that being…?”
 
Discord smiled. “To quote him, ‘You may expect that I’m going to advise you to picture a happy outcome and to rest in the sweet promises of hope. But, I’m going to lead you to peace of mind through another route, which ends in the advice that you wish to put off all worry from – that you must assume that what you fear may happen is certainly going to happen.”
 
Starlight frowned. “So you’re saying that the best way to calm down my anxiety is to tell me that everything I fear is gonna happen?”
 
“Ah!” Discord then threw the bust over his shoulder, “No, what I’m presenting to you is an essential idea. That you must always try to picture the absolute worst possible outcome that’s gonna happen – BUT! And this is the big, important, reassuring, all-encompassing but – you’ll still be… okay. The worst is still survivable. The goal that I have for you isn’t to imagine that bad things don’t unfold or to depress you, or even to sink into dread every time you wake up in the morning. It’s to get you to see that you’re more capable of enduring the worst more than you currently think.”
 
Starlight, with a blank expression, replied, “That’s gotta be the worst way to comfort somepony I’ve ever heard.”
 
“Oh?” Discord inquired with a sadistic grin, “Shall we put it to the test?”
 
With a snap of his claw and a flash of light, Starlight blinked a few times to see that she was sitting down, hindlegs crossed. In front of her were hundreds of head shaven Discords in yellow robes, cross-legged in meditative poses going “Ommmm…” As far as Starlight could tell, they sat in the ruins of a stone monetary in the mountains. The Himalamas, by the looks of it. Looking down, there was a small mirror pond that reflected her and Discord in orange and an eye open.
 
“For this thought experiment,” he said, “I will lead you through a meditation where you’ll confront the fears of countless creatures face. Although I may tell you these truths, only you can overcome them.”
 
“And how exactly do you expect me to do that?” Starlight questioned. “Do you think I would come to you if I could?”
 
Discord nodded. “True. And you’re not alone in this. I’m going to teach you a meditation in which that instead of those destructive ‘self-help books’ that saying everything’s gonna be alright that leaves fears to fester, filling anyone unlucky enough to come across them to be pumped full of dread that they loom for much longer than they should.
 
“If anything, you ever noticed that the fear of something dreadful is oftentimes worse than the thing itself? Well with this, I’m laying down for you a way to look at those fears right in the eye, refuse to kowtow towards them but examine each in detail so that they don’t look so scary anymore.”
 
“And what’s the purpose of showing me my worst fears be?”
 
“To have you reach an important realization that very few adults could learn.”
 
“Yeah? What’s that?”
 
“We can cope.” He replied. “That even when the worst comes to the worst, it is survivable. What I invite you to do, Starlight Glimmer is to focus on the scary things, not for the sake of depressing you, but to awaken you to the sense of your own strength and adaptability. Ready?”
 
The mare closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Okay… do your worst.”
 
“There are thirteen fears that all life will have to encounter at least once in their lives.” Discord said beginning with the first. “If the worst came to the worst, you would find that you had far fewer friends than you think – but the ones that remained would be the real ones; the ones who can see past your ruined social status to the genuine you beneath.”
 
Starlight started to concentrate on what this scenario would look-
 
“Really Starlight,” Twilight’s voice was heard but it sounded as if it was muffled like hearing it through a wall, “Out of all the friends I have, you’re probably the worst one.”
 
The unicorn looked around, but at first, she didn’t see anything. But when she looked down at her reflection, she saw behind Twilight and her friends, looking down with disapproval.
 
“Don’t bother ta come around the farm no more,” she heard Applejack say, “cause you ain’t welcome.”
 
“You know,” Rainbow jabbed, “we put so much trust in you. We thought you’ve changed.” She frowned, “Guess we were wrong.”
 
Starlight looked behind her, but she didn’t see anyone. Looking back at the reflection pool, all that was left was Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie.
 
Rarity slapped her reflection in the face. 
 
Pinkie frowned before turning away.
 
Fluttershy was the worst of them all, as she only exchanged a hurt, teary-eyed glance before sobbing away.
 
“Wow,” Discord commented. “That looked like it hurt.”
 
Starlight looked up at him. “Seriously, what’s this supposed to teach?”
 
“The pond here is your thoughts that are being reflected back to you. Still… You really can’t imagine a single one that would still be with you? Even when the worst came to the worst?”
 
“Well…” Starlight began, but her eyes trailed away back to the pond, in which her reflection was joined by two others. She saw in its Trixie to her left and Sunburst on the right, each of them giving a comforting hoof on her shoulders. “I guess that if this new job blows up in my face, I wouldn’t entirely be alone.”
 
Discord nodded. “If the worst came to the worst, you’ll find that following the safe, respectable, prestigious path wasn’t worth it to begin with. With far less left to lose, you’ll, at last, be granted the opportunity to explore the riskier, yet more fulfilling occupations you’d always wanted to give a try, but been too socially anxious to do so until now.”
 
In her reflection, Starlight saw in it the images that she had feared. She saw the angry, disapproving  faces of her teachers and students, a headline declaring her to be the worst Headmare in history and being kicked out of the School of Friendship. In her reflection, she saw the tears that ran down her face as she slept on the streets. Homeless. 
 
“Wow, and here I thought you’d have a little more ambition than that.” Discord commented.
 
“What are you talking about?” Starlight questioned. “That losing this new job would mean the end of everything?”
 
“And yet, even in your fears, you’re still alive.” Discord pointed out. “Even if you lose this new job, what’s preventing you from doing something else? To try something new when you got nothing to risk? Think about it, even if you somehow messed up big time with being the new Headmare or put the wrong pony to be the replacement counsellor, would you just lay down in the dirt and cry?”
 
“Well… n-no…” She answered with an embarrassed blush. “I would have to go find a new job.”
 
“And with nothing left to lose, what would you do?”
 
In the reflection, they spotted Trixie holding a hoof out to Starlight. Lights and fireworks behind them of a new magic show.
 
“Maybe I was so focused on worrying about losing my job that I forgot I had options.”
 
Discord smiled and continued with the third meditation: “Now, if the worst came to the worst, you would learn to measure your self-worth by your own standards rather than the whims and applause of the crowd. You would grow a sense of self, independent of the verdicts of others.”
 
Starlight almost laughed. “It’s almost ironic now that I think of it.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“That I often tell students that come to me, some worried about not doing well with this test or that project that all that matters is if they give it their best. Kinda surreal that I’m getting similar advice from you.”
 
Discord hummed in thought. “In a way at a different angle.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“You know the old saying that the worst critic out there is yourself?” She nodded. “That’s the kind that I mean. While getting approval from others is nice, what does that matter if, to you, all your work is nothing but a pile of crap? Sure, others may see it as a masterpiece, but it only remains as crap as long as you see it as such. Does that make sense.”
 
“In a strange way… yeah, it actually does.”
 
“Good, now to the next one.” He cleared his throat. “If the worst came to the worst, you’d look with new admiration and humility at the unhurried calm, natural stoicism, and resilience of animals.”
 
Immediately, the pool reflected the overview of Fluttershy’s Animal Sanctuary. 
 
“I’m confused.” Starlight said. “Why would I have admiration and humility towards animals? They don’t have the same problems that I have.”
 
“Maybe not. Then again, it would be funny if they did.” Discord pointed out. “I mean, would it be hilarious if birds got stressed out over a World War? Or that Pigs would have heart attacks over the state of an advanced message system? Or that Bears would be protesting over whatever political stupidity that the Princesses made into law?”
 
“Well yeah, but still, why would they care? It has nothing to do with them.”
 
“True. But animals do have one advantage over more sentient beings. And that is that even they know that it’s pointless to get worried over something that’s out of their control.”
 
“No, that can’t be right.” Starlight shook her head. “What if a fire destroys their environment or what have you? That alone should be upsetting.”
 
“Sure. But even then, do you notice something strange?”
 
Starlight blinked. 
 
“They adapt.” Discord explains. “Whenever the landscape changes, they have to change with it. They don’t just stay in the ruins forever, eventually, they have to move on to someplace else. They have to find other means to live and continue. Sure, it might be upsetting over this sudden and dramatic change, but even animals learned to adapt to a new place.”
 
“Now…” He cleared his throat. “If the worst came to the worst, you would learn to consider your sorrows from the vantage point of some distant nebula and would recognize your life as the petty and insignificant thing it truly is and always was.”
 
The pond changed again, this time to show the reflection of the stars and moon. 
 
“Now why would this be important?”
 
“Take a moment to consider every little thing that you find regret for.” He said. “Look at the mistakes, the outbursts, the wrong decisions, the embarrassing moments, the hurtful words you said, the dubious deeds you did…” He watched on and saw within the pond flashes of Starlight’s mind. Here the village she ruled over, there the time travel spell she used, this was her screaming at her dad, there a lie she told to her friends, that way dismissing a student who needed her help the most.
 
“What? Are you trying to tell me that I’m the worst pony who ever lived?” She said dryly. “Because that’s what I already think about myself already.”
 
“Now, take a mental step back. And by stepping back, I mean a couple of thousand light-years away. Look at these problems again from the point of view of a distant star. And at a point of view from eternity. Tell me, Starlight Glimmer, look at those same problems again at such a distance and all the time in the universe, how do your troubles stack up?”
 
She frowned as she looked back at the pond, returning to that starry reflection. “When you put it that way, you’re making everything I went through as pointless. But it’s still a big enough deal to me though since I live here in the moment up-close.”
 
“And that’s why we have Philosophy. Not to say that your pain is pointless, but to look at the same events but from the point of view of eternity. From that perspective of a distant star, the incidents that trouble you would no longer have to seem so shocking or so huge. After all, what’s failure at a job or losing the respect of one’s friends when looked at from the surface of the moon? What’s divorce, getting fired, or being rejected from a crush compared to the history of the universe? I’m telling you this because your nature means that you’ll always tend to exaggerate the here and now. But you do have an advantage though. You reasoned intelligence should give you access to imagine a perspective of eternal totality. Where you can cease screaming against the unfair status quo, to go with the flow of whatever events may come.
 
“Moving on. If the worst came to the worst, you would develop the right amount of gratitude for every apparently minor thing – and every day that unfolded without any further catastrophe that goes off-script would be seen as the blessing it truly is.”
 
“Off script?” Starlight tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”
 
“You know how you ponies have this unmentioned script which society puts before you and you’re kinda expected to follow? Such as first you have a fun foalhood full of self-discovery, then you get an education to make friends along the way, next comes a successful career, then find that special somepony who you might get married to, then you have foals to watch them grow up and be successful too, then you’d grow old, your parents would pass away peacefully in their late eighties before you go the same way too.”
 
“Well yeah,” she shrugged. “That’s just common sense, isn’t it?”
 
“Except, you ponies have this funny thing that you all seemed to leave out, and when it does happen, you’re somehow… surprised that it happens at all.”
 
Starlight raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
 
“To leave enough room in your script for something to go catastrophically wrong. Despite all the things that don’t give two craps about anyone’s plans, that many are shocked that something would go wrong as if they expected the universe itself to kowtow to their wills when it’s coinvent. I think Seneca put it best in one of his letters. ‘You say, ‘I didn’t think it would happen,’ do you think there is anything that will not happen when you know that it is possible to happen? When you see it has already happened to many?... We never anticipate evils before they arrive. So many funerals passed our doors, yet we never dwell on death. So many deaths are untimely, yet we make plans for our infants. However, they well done the toga, serve in the army, and succeed to their father’s property. They might end up doing such things, but how mad to love them without remembering that no one, not even the gods, had offered us a guarantee that they would grow to maturity, let alone make it to dinner time.’”
 
“So, you’re saying that the script that society gives us… that there wasn’t one to begin with?”
 
Discord nodded. “Yes. If and when something goes wrong, don’t feel like you’re the victim of some conspiracy against you. The truth is, that even in those dark times, it’s also just as possible for you to develop the deepest of friendships, to surrender your self-righteousness to gain the right kind of dark humor, even when under the gallows. Just because things tend to go wrong, doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the stuff that does go right. Each day that goes by without catastrophe, is a blessing.”
 
“That’s… actually really mature of you to say.”
 
“I know my philosophy.” He responded. “Anyways, if the worst came to the worst, you would understand that life was not something that could ever be molded into a wholly flawless and error-free thing – but it’s always had been imperfect, necessarily unreliable construction, that’s full of marks and blemishes – which nevertheless possess their own beauty and dignity.”
 
“Just like you said with the last bit.”
 
He nodded. “If the worst came to the worst, you would learn to separate between what is really serious and worth mourning about, and what is just a passing nuisance. You would, in so many situations, be infinitely calmer.”
 
Starlight blinked. “I don’t get this one.”
 
“Well to skip a lesson that I have in mind for the context of this one,” Discord cleared his throat. “Tell me, what is the opposite of anger?”
 
She thought this over for a minute or so before responding. “I guess… calm?”
 
Discord shook his head. “Nope. Excessive hope.”
 
“That doesn’t make sense.”
 
“Philosophers like Seneca have said that the reason why creatures get so angry all the time isn’t out of just because – rather, it’s because they have a view that expects that a majority of things are going exactly according to plan. From waking up on time to have a cheesy omelet for breakfast, picking up your keys at the same spot, to getting to work without any complication, even something as simple as having the flight schedules of blimps is on time. But when they find that they have woken up late, or that they’ll have to eat an orange, that keys have gone missing, traffic is backed up for miles, and that the blimps are gonna be a couple of years late – these sorts of folks explode.
 
“You know the kind. The kind that when they couldn’t find their wallets they scream: ‘Where in Celestia’s mighty plot-hole is my wallet!?’ as if there’s a conspiracy to make your small things disappear just when you need them. Regardless if they find them again, they get upset over things that, really, shouldn’t be worth lamenting like say your parent dropping dead all of a sudden.”
 
Starlight nodded. “Okay, I guess that makes sense.”
 
“Moving on,” Discord said, “If the worst comes to the worst, your failure would inspire others to share stories of their own sadness, confusion, and humiliation and we would, together, face up to the suffering we so often, unfairly may I add, endure alone.”
 
Looking at the pool, Discord took notice of Starlight’s reflection of her time as dictator of her village. Starlight noticed this and shook her head. “How would that help?” She questioned. “I mean, most people would tend to focus more on success than anything else.”
 
“Maybe, but perhaps this might be the most important thing so far. As much as most societies tend to go toward merit and success – dare I say it – even worshiping it, that as beautiful as these ideals are, they are quite poisonous. If you fail at something, that if you did a bad job, or hired the wrong replacement – it’s entirely your fault. When you have no sense of tragedy or luck to turn towards, it’s no wonder why suicides rates go up when individuals are held solely responsible.”
 
“Why tragedy and luck?”
 
“Because it’s something that even the ancient Pegasi understood. If anything, it’s why they encouraged their citizens to see gory plays to teach them an important lesson: that even the worst could befall upon the good. And as for luck? The very idea suggests that anyone has gotten to where they are not out of merit or birthright, but because out of pure chance. Things don’t go your way or do because you or someone else wants them too – because some of the time, it’s because of luck. See what I mean?”
 
“So I shouldn’t worry if I make a good Headmare or choose a good replacement because either way, it’s still a gamble?”
 
“If you want to see it like that.” Discord said before moving on. “If the worst came to the worst, you would see that the struggle for fame, money, and success was only a doomed attempt to compensate for an unconditional love that you had longed for but was denied in foalhood. That worldly craving would give way to melancholy and mourning.”
 
Starlight didn’t say anything, instead, she looked down at her reflection in which she saw her foalhood self with tears in her eyes. For a split moment, she saw Sunburst moving away, and in another, a father that gave all the affection in the world, but she wanted space. 
 
“Now this I don’t get,” she said, “growing up, Dad gave me so much love… probably too much of it now I think of it. To the point that he kept forgetting that I was growing up.”
 
“And your mother?”
 
This got a sharp glare from her. “Leave her out of this.”
 
“Why not? Did I happen to hit on a nerve?”
 
Looking back down at her reflection in the pond, they saw two ponies arguing. “Maybe if she stayed, she might give Dad the balance he needed… Maybe if they didn’t get divorced… who knows where things might have gone? Yet, that doesn’t matter as what I got was a father that wanted to make sure that I was protected at all costs to the point of severely limiting who I can and can’t see. Back then, I didn’t have control so… by the time I moved out and founded that village… yeah, things did get out of control.”
 
“You know,” Discord said, “in that, we’re more or less in the same boat.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“You don’t think that I have regrets too? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sorry for the chaos I created. But it’s different when it happens to the ponies that you got to know a little. Fluttershy alone, the things I had done… I’m still amazed she’s my friend now. That she had forgiven me over and over – and believe me, she has every right to be angry at me, and yet, she’s not.”
 
“Strangely… I can relate to that.”
 
Discord smiled. “Which is why it should be okay to mourn over it. Now, we’re almost done so let’s keep going.” After clearing his throat he said, “If the worst came to the worst, you’d cease to be so scared of looking within – and might, perhaps, give psychotherapy a go some time.”
 
“Yeah, I just never found the time.” Retorted Starlight.
 
“Then again,” he told her. “You did take the time to come talk to me about your problems.”
 
Starlight opened her mouth, but for a moment, nothing came out, so she closed it.
 
Discord continued. “If the worst came to the worst, you would play the saddest songs that have been waiting all this time for you to hear.”
 
“Like something to listen to for catharsis?” Starlight asked.
 
“Naturally. The author might recommend Shostakovich or Mahler, being the classical nerd he is. Personally, I go with Revolution No. 9 if I’m feeling down.”
 
Starlight shrugged. “Maybe listening to the Blues for me. Depending on if I’m in the mood for it.”
 
“Good. And now for the last one: If the worst came to the worst, truly, honestly the absolute, inescapable worst, then all the rage, grief, anxiety and fear you have in life would be at an end – and would at last, as those prayers best put it, be at peace.”
 
She gave a low whistle. “Now there’s some real heavy stuff.”
 
“Obviously. But for you mortals, there’s a strange comfort in that. I think a silent movie actor once put it best: ‘Nothing lasts in this wicked world, not even our troubles.’”
 
Just then, a bell was heard in which the other meditative Discords took a moment to stretch, get up and start walking towards the appeared classroom door to walk out of. All the while, the illusion started to fade in which the mountainous monastery gave way to a classroom. Starlight blinked as she realized that he and Discord were sitting on the desk. 
 
“Welp,” Discord said, stretching his arms. “I hope that at least did something.”
 
“In a way… I think it did.” She nodded. “Although, did you have to bring up all that other stuff?”
 
“Why not? If you’re not going to at least confront it now, when?” He hopped off his desk. “You know, I didn’t fix any of your problems, just gave you the tools to use for when the time comes.”
 
“Still… I don’t want to fail at something so many are looking up at me to do.”
 
“Sure. But hey,” he said as he walked over to the door. He stopped to look at her, “even if or when it does, did you ever notice something truly odd? Even when we were talking about all that dark stuff, did you take notice of something that is the strangest of all?”
 
“What?”
 
He smirked. “The world didn’t come to an end.” With that, he left.
 
Alone in the classroom, perhaps out of the entirety of their conversation that was something that was the most profound to Starlight. She looked over at the windows, observing how dark it’s getting outside. So, getting up, she left the classroom door.
 
“Maybe… Even if I don’t got this,” she said to herself, “it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”
> Rainbow - Bad Faith
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To an outsider, especially towards an untrained flyer – what Rainbow Dash was doing looks complicated. All the twists and turns, when her wings are propelling her forward or gliding, even down to what angle her wings had to be when in a certain area would easily give even the most expert mathematicians headaches. Yet, to the Wonderbolt, the routine came to her as natural as the thin air she’s breathing. To be able to have the endurance of a bodybuilder with the grace of a ballerina, yet as tactical as a general in battle, is what Rainbow was brilliant at – even when she doesn’t realize it. 
 
In time with her teammates, she stuck the landing perfectly. Breathing in deeply, she smiled up with pride at her Captain. Spitfire lifted her goggles, “Phew! Good, now that time around was better. Clipper, you were a little close during position twenty-three, Crash, you were ahead of me during position fifty-one. Slowpoke, work on position eighty-nine. But besides that, great job! Hit the showers, and until next week, you’re all dismissed.”
 
They saluted and the Wonderbolts began to make their way towards the showers. 
 
“We’re gonna blow Manehattan away in no time,” Rainbow looked over to the pony that was talking to her. It was Thunderlane who lifted his goggles. “That was almost perfect that time.”
 
“Kinda disappointing,” Rainbow shrugged. “But at least Spitfire is happy with it, and I’m looking forward to the show.”
 
“Yeah, I see what you mean.” He nodded. “Still, I can’t wait to get home. I have this chili recipe I wanna try all week.”
 
“Well, I’m glad you’re looking forward to it.” 
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I love being in the Wonderbolts as much as the rest of you guys. I really do. But since Twilight has roped us into her school, it’s just getting harder and harder to juggle between this, teaching, and trying to have enough room to breathe.”
 
“I take it you don’t like teaching?”
 
“Well not at first, but once I got to be the P.E. teacher, things have gone smoothly. Still, it’s just hard to maintain two official jobs, ya know.”
 
“Sure,” Thunderlane nodded, “so… why don’t you just quite one of your jobs?”
 
Rainbow sighed. “I can’t. I still need to pay for my bills and such. And given the life I have, you have to work hard so that you can play hard too. It’s not that I don’t like being a Wonderbolt or teaching, it’s just I wish that I had more time.”
 
“Yeah, I get you. You just wish you have some free time. Believe me, if I had that, I would look into taking cooking classes to improve my skills.”
 
“Too bad we’re not exactly free in that.”
 
“Well hold on,” Thunderlane raised an eyebrow, “who’s saying that we can’t?”
 
“Life did,” Rainbow said, telling Thunderlane goodbye before heading towards the mare’s locker room.
 
After putting her uniform away and grabbing the soaps, shampoo, and towel she needed, Rainbow also picked up another item from her locker. A waterproof radio she got as a Hearth’s Warming gift. She often used this in the shower to give her something to listen to. Music mostly, but at least it’s better than to hear nothing but water streaming down in an endless white noise. 
 
She picked a stall, set her things aside and turned on the water. After that, she turned on the radio and began to wash her mane.
 
“-op. It’s the soapiest, soap soap that ever been soaped.” This was the first thing Rainbow heard. She supposed that it must be some advertisement when then she heard a familiar voice on the radio.
 
“Welcome to the show. Today’s topic for our listeners has something to do with an important philosophical idea called: Bad Faith.”
 
Rainbow paused. What was this?
 
“This was pioneered by the Prench existential philosopher, Sartre, who identified a problem that many don’t seem to notice in modern life. Something that he called ‘Mauvaise Foi,’ literally translated to ‘bad faith.’”
 
Rainbow blinked. Did she accidently turn the dial? She thought she would be hearing music by now. She stretched out her wing to change it. But the voice still kept coming through.
 
“In plain Equestrian-”
 
Click.
 
“Bad faith is when you-”
 
Click.
 
“Lie to yourself to spare-”
 
Click.
 
“Yourself from short term-”
 
Click.
 
“Pain. In doing so, cause long term-”
 
Click.
 
“Psychological impoverishment. Forcing yourself to believe in something that you’re not really convinced by-”
 
Click.
 
“Because it’s easier. And what is that lie?”
 
Click.
 
“Simply that we believe we don’t have any options available to us at all times.”
 
Click.
 
“In truth, we always do, but we tend to curiously find it more reassuring to tell ourselves that we don’t.”
 
‘Is this guy on every station?’ Rainbow wondered. “What the hay is going on?”
 
“So, to help me and you listeners at home,” the voice continued. “I have brought in a special guest. Here to help illustrate the mindset of Bad Faith, she is the Hero of Equestria, has joined the Wonderbolts, and is taking a shower. Here she is, Rainbow Dash!”
 
Before she could wipe the water from her eyes, she suddenly heard a thud. Quickly grabbing a towel, she quickly dried her face to find that the wall that once held up the showerhead has fallen over, and behind it was Discord near a radio microphone with other electronic equipment. The pipes were now broken and spewing all over between them.
 
“Discord!” Rainbow shouted, trying to wrap herself in the towel. “What the actual hay!”
 
“Welcome to the show, Rainbow!” Discord greeted her. 
 
“What’s all this?!”
 
“This is my radio show. Armchair 10.3. And today, you are my lucky guest to come on to talk about-”
 
“I was in the middle of a shower, Discord!” She interrupted him. “Can’t you do this some other time? Preferably never?”
 
“Now Rainbow,” the Draconequus said, speaking into the microphone, “this is important. These listeners from across the world would benefit greatly, and, might I add, so would you. Come,” he waved his bird-like talon to conjure up a comfy armchair, “have a seat.”
 
“You’re not gonna leave me alone unless I do this, aren’t ya?” Rainbow deadpanned and Discord nodded. After quickly drying herself off, she plopped herself down in the chair and another radio microphone pops up from underneath the floor. “So, what do you want, Discord?”
 
“Well, I happened to be in the neighborhood when I heard you say the following…” The walls of the small room were lifted up suddenly by a crane made out of cranes. Rainbow looked around to see that she was back in the airfield, watching herself and the other Wonderbolts being told by Spitfire that they were dismissed. 
 
At a particular moment in the conversation where she was talking to Thunderlane, Discord dipped his microphone overhead them. 
 
“Yeah, I get you.” Thunderlane said. “You just wish you have some free time. Believe me, if I had that, I would look into taking cooking classes to improve my skills.”
 
“Too bad we’re not exactly free in that.”
 
“Well hold on,” the stallion raised an eyebrow, “who’s saying that we can’t?”
 
“Life did,” Rainbow said, telling Thunderlane goodbye before heading towards the mare’s locker room.

Looking up from the armchair, Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “So… what’s wrong with that?”
 
“On the outset, nothing,” Discord replied, bringing the microphone back to him. “But what you have demonstrated for our audience is a prime example of the idea of Bad Faith.”
 
“Bad, what?”
 
“In a nutshell, Bad Faith is the idea that we tell ourselves this lie where we’re just stuck with this job or with that partner. That we needed the money to be stable. That we can’t pick up and go somewhere else simply because we’re not free to do so.”
 
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
 
Discord sucked in some air. “Ohh… Not quite.” He said, starting to walk away, taking Rainbow in the armchair with him. “The truth is, as much as you want to convince yourself that you’re destined to be both a Wonderbolt and a teacher by the writers in the sky… I’m afraid that I have terrible, devastating news for you.”
 
“What are you talking about?”
 
“I’m afraid, dear Rainbow,” Discord wrapped his lion arm around her, “that you are condemned to be free.”
 
Rainbow Dash blinked… and blinked again. “How the hey is that bad news? I thought being free is a good thing.”
 
“Well to get into the why, allow me to paint the scene.” A snap and a flash later, while Rainbow was still in the armchair, she looked around to see that they were in a crowded café where Prench words were buzzing in her ears. Discord sat down at a tiny table with a white tablecloth across from her. He pointed over while still talking into the microphone. “The Philosopher Sartre has this famous example of what we’re talking about today. Inside a Prench café, there is a waiter. That one, over there by that table.” 
 
Rainbow looked over to who he was pointing at. Immediately she spotted a stallion, bow tie around his neck and a clean white apron over his withers. In his aura, he carried a tray filled with plates and cups. “Okay…” She said, “What about him?”
 
“Notice how overly devoted he is to his job. Almost as if he had always been a waiter all his life instead of a pony that is free. Look at his movements; how too quick and forward he is; how mechanically précised and rapid he is; how he comes to the customers with a step that seems too quick; how he bends forward towards them a little too eagerly; even his voice, eye contact, the whole face seemed a little too desperate for the customer’s orders. Do you see?”
 
“Well… yeah? So what?”
 
“What you are seeing, is a tragedy in the making. This poor sucker has fully convinced himself that he’s just – well – a waiter instead of a free being. For all we know, he could be a risk-taking inventor, the fifth Beatle, a mountain climber even. But no, he’s just a waiter.” 
 
As he was talking, the waiter came by while he kept talking.
 
“If you were to ask him why his job is a waiter, you’d probably get-”
 
“I’m only a waiter, mousier, it is my lot in life. There’s not much choice in the matter, for I do need the money.” The waiter said before trotting away.
 
“But I don’t see how this is a problem.” Rainbow pointed out. “Maybe that guy is just good at being a waiter. Chances are, he got his cutie mark in… waiting or something…”
 
“That is a legitimate argument.” Discord nodded. “Even I don’t deny that be it ponies or not, everyone has that special talent about themselves in which they are very good at. Sometimes, those with cutie marks tend to go into a job that has something to do with what they see as the only good talent they have. However, even this is deceiving.”
 
“How?”
 
“Let me ask you this.” Discord leaned forward. “You’re a Wonderbolt, right?” She nodded. “Why?”
 
“Why what?”
 
“Why are you a Wonderbolt? You say that you’re one of the best flyers out there, and a hero no less. You could have easily gone as an adventure like Daring Do to explore unknown regions of the world. You could have become a professional athlete in Buckball. You could have joined in the Royal Guard. So why this, very specific thing?”
 
“Easy, it’s because I’ve trained myself for years to become the fastest flyer in Equestria. And the Wonderbolts have always been my heroes. As a filly, those were the guys I wanna be. They were fast, they can do stuff that very few fliers could, and they’ve always pushed themselves to become the best of the best. It took me a long time, but I finally got the chance to join their ranks.”
 
“Even so, have you ever thought about doing something else?”
 
Rainbow blinked. “What do you mean?”
 
Discord gave a couple of claps. Gone was the Prench café and in its place was an empty white void. “Let’s pretend,” he said, his voice echoed, “that your fillyhood was completely different. And before you say anything,” he held his lion paw up to her snout, “in this thought experiment, let’s pretend that somehow your Sonic Rainboom didn’t have much effect on Equestria as a whole. That everything is more or less the same except for you. Got that? Good. Now put that imagination of yours to good use and try to think about this question: if you didn’t become a famous flyer, what would you be?”
 
She thought about this for a moment. “Huh… Honestly, I have no idea. I have been so focused on doing cool stuff like flying that I have no idea what I would do if I wasn’t.”
 
“I could probably name a few.” Discord said, “Prankster, Weather Control, Mountain Climber, Explorer, Adventure, Mail Mare, Soldier, P.E Teacher, Salespony, shall I go on? I could do this all day.”
 
“But I’ve already done those things, and more.”
 
“Exactly.” He nodded. “That is what I’m getting at. Who you are can’t just be pinned down to doing one job or have this particular type of relationship. Your very being is much bigger than that. It is, in Sartre’s words, ‘All things you are at present not, but could possibly become.’”
 
“In other words,” Rainbow blinked, “that I’m much more than just a flyer or a Wonderbolt.”
 
“Yes! Now we’re getting somewhere!” Discord said excitedly, jumping in the air and staying there. “Now that you’re starting to get it, let me ask again if you were not Rainbow Dash the Wonderbolt, then who else would you have been?”
 
“I guess…” Rainbow put a hoof to her chin, “If I had my way, I would be like Daring Do. Someone who would be willing to go into the Jungle to save ancient artifacts from bad guys. To discover lost civilizations, forgotten to time. Maybe, not just in the jungle too, but go everywhere from the mountains near Griffonstone to deep into the oceans.
 
“Oh! Maybe I could create new gags for pranks. Maybe start up a joke factory like Cheese Sandwich did. If I had Pinkie with me, we can come up with all sorts of stuff to make Equestria laugh hard and long.
 
“Then again, I can probably stick around for teaching at Twilight’s school. Besides, the students there love me. And I’ve helped create several sports teams that I was able to get students excited for.
 
“Or how about-” 
 
“Funny,” Discord interrupted, “and here I thought you can’t do any of those things because you have a job as a Wonderbolt.”
 
“I…” Rainbow trailed off as it slowly dawned on her. But suddenly, she shook her head. “Just because I’m able to do all that stuff, doesn’t mean that I can just get up and quit from the Wonderbolts to do something else.”
 
“Or can you?” Discord questioned, this time the scene changed to the inside of Rainbow’s cloud home in the middle of the night. In particular, inside the Pegasus’s bedroom. She saw herself lying in bed, laying wide awake, staring at the ceiling. “How many nights have kept you awake because it dawns on you that you’re far freer than you thought? How often do you have to acknowledge that you might be wasting your life and, in the end, it’s all your fault, regardless of how often you’re tempted to blame this circumstance or that pony?”
 
“Well… fine, you caught me. Sure, there have been times that I may have stayed up a few nights. Sometimes I kinda wondered what I would do if I wasn’t able to get onto the Wonderbolts.”
 
“And yet, what do you do the morning after? Do you still have those thoughts?”
 
“Not really. I just go on with my day.”
 
“Ah yes,” Discord nodded. “This is what is known as Negative Ecstasy. In plain Equestrian, it means that despite knowing what keeps you up at night, you force yourself to believe in what you’re doing is all that is. For this price, you close off any other opportunities for changing and improving your life.”
 
“But I like being in the Wonderbolts,” Rainbow interjected, “it’s been my dream job.”
 
“Yes. But even then, does the idea of being confined into only one job forever and ever amen sound the least bit appealing?”
 
Rainbow nodded, “Okay, I’m starting to see your point. I am not just pinned down to doing one job. My life’s story is about making changes. I guess you have a point that just because I found my dream job, doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to do something else.” She frowned. “But why is that? Where does this whole ‘Bad Faith’ thing come from?”
 
“Well… there is a theory,” the scene changed again, this time inside a richly decorated dining room in the middle of the day. Seated across from one another in a state of sulking was, what Rainbow identified quickly as Filthy Rich and Spoiled Rich. Both not looking at one another with a grim frown on their faces. “Sartre had identified this common feature in unhappily married couples. He noticed this beginning to grow in early dates, where deep down, both of the couple realized that they’re don’t match, but still force themselves to believe that they can like fitting a square block through a round hole and be happy together.”
 
“But that doesn’t make sense.” Rainbow objected. “If they knew that it wouldn’t work out, why would they stay?”
 
“It’s all quite simple.” Discord explained. “You see Spoiled over there? Once upon a time, she had wanted to be loved for her mind while living off of somepony’s wealth. At the start, she couldn’t pay attention to her dark suspicion that Filthy over here is interested in her body. Meanwhile,” he pointed to the husband, “he realizes early on that she isn’t interested in him physically, but lied to himself that surely, she must be. As a result of lying to themselves, they end up together, unhappy, and that’s why Diamond was born. It’s thanks to this Bad Faith, they will continuously throw the blame onto each other. Saying that it’s their coldness or lack of compassion that’s at fault. Neither wanting to face the reality that this is of their own doing.”
 
“Sheesh!” Rainbow railed back. “That’s depressing.”
 
“From a certain perspective, sure.” Discord agreed, changing the scene again. The walls and furniture sank into the either and were replaced by the familiar surroundings of the lobby of the Wonderbolt academy. Complete with the blue and yellow motif, cloud couches, and pictures of past stunts. “However, Sartre never saw this problem as surprising or unusual. If anything, it’s just the way the mind works. He never wanted anyone to learn about his philosophy to feel bad, rather, as a simple reminder to have folks like you to be as free as you really are.”
 
“Well, even if that’s true, what do you want me to do anyway?”
 
Discord smiled, “The next time you think that you feel stuck in this or that job, where you are in a relationship that feels like it’s your last chance, or that you’re just too busy – always remember, even when it doesn’t look like it, you are much freer than you think. There’s no shame in being anxious about having options that have no info. Sometimes, you’ll have to learn how to liberate yourself.”
 
“Huh… I guess that’s actually not bad advice.”
 
“This is Discord at Armchair 10.3 saying, never stop thinking.” 
 
“Who are you talking to?” Rainbow jerked her head around, next to her was Thunderlane, and looking around, Discord and the armchair she was sitting in has disappeared. Rainbow was sitting on one of the cloud couches and didn’t realize it until she looked down.
 
“Well, nopony now.” She replied, hopping off. Pausing for a moment, a thought came to her. “Hey Thunderlane, what’s the most chaotic thing you’ve ever cooked up?”
 
The stallion thought for a moment, “The time that I tried and failed to make spaghetti toffee. Why?”
 
“Would you mind cooking up some of that?” She asked. “I think I owe someone a certain thank you gift.”
> Pinkie - On Sadness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pinkie didn’t get it. What happened didn’t make sense to her. She was only trying to help. A cheering up party was what was needed, right? Honestly, she didn’t mean to make Roseluck upset. She just wanted everypony to be happy.
 
So… why did it go wrong?
 
It bothered her all day. From the bakery to the classroom, that gadfly of a thought kept returning. She kept recalling the stinging words that Rose said. It puzzled her as much as it did stick out like a splinter. 
 
‘Well maybe I want to be sad!’
 
Nothing in that one sentence made sense to her. It was a contradiction of existence itself! Why would anyone want to be sad? Isn’t the goal of life is to be happy? Everyone wants laugher and joy. Every creature on the planet wants the comforting peace that brings a smile on their face. Isn’t this the default need for life? The purpose of hard work; for obtaining friendships even? Surely, gladness is something that is greeted with open hooves.
 
So why would anyone want to be sad?
 
This was why she was hopping her way towards Fluttershy’s on a Saturday to go see Discord. She knew that Saturdays were when her friend and the Ex-Chaos spirit get together to catch up with whatever was going on with them. Normally, Pinkie and the rest of her friends would leave the two of them alone during these tea parties. But today, however, she felt that this was an emergency.
 
“Discord?” She called out, knocking on Fluttershy’s front door. “Discord? Are you in there?”
 
She waited for a moment before it opened and found that Fluttershy answered the door. “Pinkie?”
 
“Hi Fluttershy,” she waved, “is Discord here? I need to talk to him over something really confusing.”
 
“We’re almost done.” Her friend replied, “And Discord is helping me putting the dishes away. Is something wrong?”
 
“I’m not sure, Roseluck said something to me that I’m really, really confused about, and it’s been bugging me for a whole day now.”
 
“So why come to Discord?” Fluttershy questioned. “Didn’t you go to Twilight or Starlight about this?”
 
“I did, but they didn’t make sense. Well, they kinda suggest that I should give Rose some space, but she’s all cooped up in her home moping about and I’m not meant to do anything? It’s crazy that I want to help but now I’m told not to? How the hay does that make any sense!? It doesn’t.”
 
Fluttershy blinked. “So… Why do you want Discord’s help?”
 
“Well duh!” Pinkie explained. “Have you heard how good he’s at giving advice now? What he does affects students, our friends, the readers-”
 
“Readers?”
 
“The point is, he’s really good and I need some help figuring something confusing enough to make me try to pull my mane out from my skull!”
 
“You do know that there are less painful ways to make cotton candy.” Said Discord, getting the mare's attention as he walked through a wall. “But as much as I would oblige in having your mane be divorced from your head and having it rain chocolate all over Equestria, I’m afraid Fluttershy wouldn’t approve.”
 
“There you are!” Pinkie jumped high enough to reach the Ex-God’s eye-level. “You mind helping me out on something that’s super weird and-”
 
“And just like that, I’m sold.” Discord said, grabbing the bouncing pony mid-air. “Come! We shall open a door with the key of imagination to go beyond a dimension of sight, sound, and mind! A place of things and ideas to cross over into Twilight’s bathroom! Oh and,” he turned to Fluttershy giving her a wave, “I’ll see you the same time next Saturday!”
 
With a hop and a skip, Discord transported himself and the pony under his arm into a black and white bathroom tub with the curtain drawn and the showerhead running. Pinkie looked over and noticed that Discord was wearing a suit. 
 
“Actually,” she began, “I was hoping I could use your philosophical expertise to help me out on something.”
 
“Oh…” Discord blinked. “Well, that’s completely different.” He drew the shower curtain aside to step out from it. Putting Pinkie down, they left the bathroom into a colorful bedroom. “Now what would you need of my expertise for?”
 
“Okay,” she drew in a deep breath to quickly say: “so recently Roseluck has gotten all sad for some reason so I thought that maybe I should throw her a surprise cheering up party. But despite all the candy, the confetti, inviting her friends over, the twenty-story cake with chocolate pudding, and the balloons that have big smiling faces; did you know what she did? She told me to get out! I mean, all the effort to have her put on a big happy smile and all I get is be kicked out? Can you believe it? I was like ‘Whaaaa?’ and she was like ‘Leave me alone!’ and I was like ‘Nah-ah! You’re all gloomy face and I need to make you happy.’ But then she was like ‘Well maybe I want to be sad!’ I tell you; it makes no sense what-so-ever! I thought everypony wants to be happy and now I’m being told that Roseluck wants to be miserable? It’s the kind of thing that you might have done back when you were evil but this! No! I want answers! Why would she want to be miserable?” Pinkie took in another deep breath.
 
Discord hummed in thought, floating over to the bed, he hovered over while his suit, still wet from being in the shower, dripped down below. “Has this Roseluck have always been like this?”
 
“No, and that’s what worries me. Usually, she’s a bit over dramatic when it comes to taking care of flowers and goes around from time to time with Dr. Whooves to go… I have no idea where. But sad? She’s rarely like that. Besides, I thought I was helping by trying to cheer her up. What gives?”
 
“Perhaps…” Discord began. “You haven’t asked yourself the right sort of question. Something that the Element of Laughter seemed to have continuously overlooked.”
 
“Overlooked what?”
 
“What’s the proper way to be sad?”
 
Pinkie scrunched up her snout in confusion. “Proper? But being sad is an emotion, not a skill.”
 
“Except,” Discord said, levitating his still wet clothing over a nightstand filled with books. “Despite any desire to be happy, every day, to every living creature in every multiverse there is, a lot of stuff happens in one way or another that’s pretty hurtful. From someone who  didn’t bother to call; to a project you’ve worked hard on and isn’t going anywhere; to someone saying ‘No.’ And that’s just to name a few examples.”
 
“Well sure,” Pinkie answered, hopping over. “Even some of this stuff happens to me too. I sometimes feel sad for a bit and that would be it.”
 
“Sure… if you think that’s how it actually works.” Discord then shook himself like a dog, and whatever leftover water was now being sprayed in every which way direction. Even Pinkie had to borrow an umbrella out of hyperspace in her mane to keep herself dry. 
 
“It’s not?” She questioned.
 
“As it turns out, all our minds are squeamish by their very design. It frequently shuts down any negative feelings where it goes into a state that psychologists call denial. Where difficult, but true info is often refused access, like a bouncer for a club if you will. Given how societies are structured, this isn’t surprising at all. Many, like yourself, see anything with a hint of sadness as a disorder to be cured, because it goes against the bouncy cheerfulness that nearly all advertisements, shows and movies would want to convince you is the norm.”
 
“You’re making it sound as if it’s not.”
 
“Oh Pinkie,” Discord curled around her. “You have so much to learn. Come! We’re going on a field trip!” Suddenly, both of them popped out of the room, outside of space and time for a moment right before Twilight comes walking in, screaming in anger at the state of her bedroom.
 
As for Discord and Pinkie, just as soon as they popped out of existence that they popped in to someplace else. The first thing the pony noticed was that they were transported to someplace in the wilderness. Someplace quiet warm but humid. Someplace where the dirt was dry, but there is greenery all around. They stood in the thicket of a grove of trees where a sparkling river was nearby.
 
“Discord?” Pinkie inquired, “Where are we?”
 
“Northern Manedia, about five or so centuries before Nightmare Moon was Banished.” Discord explained, “and if I’m right, we’re just in time for the first incidencent in history that a pony has reached nirvana.”
 
“As in elighte-” Pinkie was suddenly cut off when there was a sudden low ring that was heard coming from somewhere within the grove. Not only that, but she noticed a strange warm glow nearby that shone through the branches. “What’s going on there?”
 
“Let’s take a look.” Discord said, pointing into the grove. While he floated his way, Pinkie followed behind. What they found underneath the tree was a single stallion in an orange robe. A light brown earth pony without a mane whose expression… the only word that comes to the mare’s mind is “peaceful.” Whatever happened before they arrived, it left the stallion in a state of relief, calm, content, tranquility even – all at the same time.
 
“Hi there!” Pinkie called out, bouncing over to the stranger. 
 
The stranger only smiled back.
 
She paused for a moment, now on the hill, she noticed how isolated they were. In every direction, she couldn’t see so much as a village in sight among the trees and bushes. It was quiet too. Quickly concluding that whoever this was, the stranger was entirely alone. “So what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
 
“I found what I was looking for.” He replied and Pinkie asked what that was. “Peace.”
 
“That’s oddly specific.” Pinkie remarked. Just then, she heard the growl of the stranger’s stomach. “How long have you been underneath this tree?”
 
Blinking, the stranger looked up for a moment at its branches. “I was not counting. But if I have to guess… several, many days at least.”
 
“And you haven’t had anything to eat?”
 
“I think it was… a bowl of rice the last time.”
 
“Oh, you poor thing.” Pinkie said, compassion filling her to reach into her cotton candy mane and pulled out a cupcake. “Here. I was saving it for lunch. You can have it.”
 
Raising his forehooves up, the stallion humbly accepted it. He thanked her and studied the confection carefully before tasting the frosting.
 
“While he’s eating that.” Discord said, “Pinkie Pie, allow me to introduce you to the formal prince, genius, and now the enlightened one – Saddlehārtha Gallupama. Or, just the Buddha for short.”
 
“A prince?” Pinkie questioned, returning her attention towards the stallion. “You’re a prince?”
 
“Was.” He answered.
 
“Sorry, I’m super confused. What is an ex-prince like you doing out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to eat?”
 
Buddha took a bite of the cake. “It is a long story.”
 
“Well, we got time.” She answered, “Besides,” Pinkie sat down but bobbed up and down. “I always love a good story.”
 
“As do I.” Discord said, pulling up a couch when neither of them was looking. “Tell us who you are and why you are glowing.”
 
“Very well,” he said, gently placing the cupcake down on a rock. “When I was born into the most powerful and wealthy clan in the Himallamas, my father was given a prophecy by a holy creature who said that I would become either a great Emperor or a holy pony. Father wanted me to be the Emperor and ordered that I shall be spared by the unpleasantness of life. From the palace being filled with delicious foods, lotus ponds and dancing mares to the streets surrounding the palace be swept clean. For a long time, I knew not of anything that wasn’t pleasant or pleasurable. Once I concluded that life was nothing but as sweet as this.” He lifted the cupcake before continuing. “Then, one day, my carriage took a wrong turn and I saw something on that day that shook me.”
 
“What was it?” Pinkie asked.
 
“The streets became increasingly filthy, and there I saw a sick stallion. I wasn’t aware that anyone’s health could decline. Then I saw an old stallion. I was aghast as I didn’t think that anyone could become like that with time. And then a funeral procession carrying a dead stallion. This most of all shocked me, for I wasn’t aware that ponies could die. On those streets, I saw poverty, hunger, injury, pain, sadness beyond description… Things that I didn’t know were possible outside of the palace. And then, in the midst of all of them, I saw a holy pony, who despite the horrifying setting, was at peace. 
 
“It occurred to me that day that since I’m a pony as well, I too am prone to encounter these things myself. That I was destined to suffer as much as they were. I’ve wondered what the point of living was if there was suffering, even to those who don’t deserve it. So, as a young stallion, I ran away from the palace, only looking back once, with the hope that maybe my wife and son would too find peace as well.
 
“From that day, I walked along the country roads, encountering many creatures who claimed a way out from suffering. I first went to the priests, but they insisted on blind faith and nothing on what worked through practical reason. Then I turned to the gurus and renouncers who insisted that any attachment binds us to pain. Yet, despite my efforts of meditation and fasting for days, even never moving for months on end, these didn’t bring what I was looking for. If anything, every time I came out of meditation lead me to more suffering. Almost died as a result. So, disgruntled, I reasoned that maybe, there is a middle way between these extremes. Something that I may have overlooked.
 
“On the way here, this very grove compelled me to meditate, and underneath this very tree, I vowed that I will not move from this spot until I solved the riddle of existence. At first, I struggled a long time, trying to pinpoint a single source of what it was all about. Why is it that we are caught in this cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth, that we are caught in a wheel of suffering? What was the point of undergoing utter grief and sadness over and over? I sat here, trying to overcome the dark forces of delusion that clouded my thoughts.”
 
“Well, what happened?” Pinkie asked.
 
“I remember when I was a little colt, that I would notice how after the grass was cut, that it would destroy the insects and their eggs. As a child, I felt a deep compassion for these small creatures, how sorry I felt for their loss. This I realized was the key. In all these years of trying to find out what was the cause of suffering, I had realized that I was only looking at this problem through a keyhole. The answer isn’t just about me, nor any single part of me, not even those that have influenced me, or even have created me. Trying to pinpoint the cause of suffering of oneself, is the cause of suffering.”
 
“So… you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t exist?” Pinkie questioned, scratching her head.
 
“No. Of course, I exist. Only the very concept of the eternal element in oneself wasn’t the solution, but the heart of the problem. Because it makes one selfish and self-absorbent in earthly concerns. Blinding anyone from learning how to escape from suffering. Once you extinguish the idea of the self, you become free. To know oneself, and the world is yours. You see?”
 
“I… maybe?”
 
“Tell us what happened next.” Discord insisted.
 
“Yes.” The Buddha nodded. “So, once I had these in mind, I then fell into a deeper meditation to look back on my past lives. Of countless rounds of lifetimes in countless points of existence. From being different ponies to wild animals, from demons to gods, from insects to abstract consciousness itself, yet all of these are subjected to the wheel of suffering. Even Gods like your friend here is subjected to die and be reborn as something else. Then, going past these, I extinguish craving, ignorance, insecurity, grudges, attachment, and delusion. And for these efforts, I am now free from suffering and being rewarded with enlightenment.”
 
“Huh…” Pinkie blinked. “So is this why you’re all glowy?”
 
He smiled. “How unshakable is my mind now. This is the last birth. For me, there is no renewed existence. For today, I am free.” Then he took a bite of the cupcake.
 
“So, for sitting underneath a tree,” Discord said, “What did you learn?”
 
After swallowing the treat, he replied, “There are four truths of existence. Which, I am so happy to share these with you.”
 
“Really?” Pinkie inquired, her tail moving about like a happy dog. “What is it?”
 
“The first,” he said, “the baseline for all existence, is at its very core – suffering.”
 
Pinkie’s tail stopped wagging and went limp.
 
“The second,” the stallion went on to explain, “is that this eternal suffering is caused by our desires. For attachment is the root of all suffering. This includes greed over very tasty foods, or the desire for more gold and jewels, even fear about dying contributes to attachment.
 
“The third is to help one become detached from these cravings is to remove or maintain moderation for all things. To do so is to change one’s outlook, not the circumstance. Unhappiness isn't caused by the lack of things such as money, love, or status. Rather, it’s because we are by our nature greedy, vain and insecure. By training one’s mind, anyone can maintain a mindful attitude, and therefore, become better as a whole. You can change this monkey mind by overturning those desires. Turning ignorance into wisdom. Anger into compassion. Greed into generosity.”
 
“Training?” Pinkie tilted her head. “You mean like doing a million push-ups or running several miles every day?”
 
The Buddha laughed. “No no, instead of training the body, I found a way to train the mind. One that must be practiced every day to obtain a behavior. To do so, one must have the right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.”
 
“So let me get this straight,” Pinkie interjected. “That according to you, wisdom is not some realization but a habit?” He nodded. “And the way to get this is to do all that stuff?” He nodded again. “That sounds like a lot of work.”
 
He chuckled. “Indeed. But if you exercise a limb, what becomes of it?”
 
“Well… it gets stronger over time.”
 
The Buddha nodded. “The same for wisdom. The mere moment of understanding for me is only the beginning.” 
 
“Now with that out of the way,” Discord finally said, “and since you seem to be the most qualified here, my friend needs help.”
 
“Oh?” He tilted his head. “And what is it?”
 
Pinkie then began to retell what she told Discord, about how Roseluck was feeling down and she tried to cheer her up, but it ended up backfiring. Of how she was confused when her friend told her that she preferred to be sad. When she finished, she added, “I just don’t get it how she would want to be. I thought everypony wants to be happy.”
 
“I see.” The Buddha nodded. “It would seem to me that your friend has grasped my first truth – that life is suffering. With this realization, it sounds to me that she is in mourning of this fact.”
 
“Yes exactly!” Pinkie exclaimed. “I just want to know… what do I do when cheering her up doesn’t do a thing?”
 
Humming in thought, the Buddha turned to Discord, “If it’s not too much trouble, I would need some assistance.”
 
“Alright,” Discord hopped off his couch and conjuring up a waiter’s outfit, complete with a notepad asked, “So how can I take your order?”
 
“I suggest, the best way to help her with her question is to remind her of her own sadness.”
 
“Pfft!” Pinkie laughed, “C’mon? Me? Sad? Since when I have ever been super-duper gloomy?”
 
Discord raised an eyebrow. “Really now? You’ve never been sad in your whole life? Ever?” Shaking her head, he hummed in thought. “I have an idea for our next stop on our Magical Melancholy Tour.” He turned to the Buddha. “Wanna come along?”
 
“I will be like water, and flow to wherever nature directs me.”
 
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Discord said, snapping a talon. 
 
The next place that was gloomy, cold, and gray. In this landscape, the three of them appear as blue, see-through, and glowy. Pinkie was the first to look at her hoof. “Are we ghosts now?”
 
“To a degree.” Discord answered. “At this point, we are merely observers.”
 
“What is this place?” The Buddha asked.
 
“I know where we are.” Pinkie pointed to a dreadful-looking farmhouse. “This is my home. Well, was my home until I moved out to Ponyville.” She paused, looking up at the Ex-Chaos spirit. “Discord, why are we here?”
 
“There is something you need to see.” He said, floating over towards the house. The other two followed in the same manner. Going over the rock fields and through the fence, they followed him towards a window. “Look and see.”
 
Pinkie and the Buddha did. Through the window was a gray living room. There in a rocking chair was Pinkie’s mother, and in her forelegs was a crying Marble, with a piercing scream that was so loud that it was amazing that the window didn’t shatter. What was striking was the look on the mother’s face. It was as if all hints of happiness or joy was gone. There wasn’t a glint in her eye, a smile on her face, she wasn’t even rocking the shrieking foal in her arms.  
 
Then three other very young foals entered into the room. Pinkie immediately recognizes that it was her and her sisters, Maud and Limestone. While there was a look of worry on Limestone’s face, and Maud was emotionless, Pinkie stepped up with a smile – a determination to make both of them happy. Immediately, the very young Pinkie set to work to do everything she could think of to cheer not just her crying sister, but her mother up as well. She tried making weird faces, funny noises, jangling keys, tickling, trying to force a smile even. Yet no matter how hard she tries, Marble continues to cry, and their mother looking as if she was dead inside.
 
“Do you remember this, Pinkie?” Discord asked.
 
Pinkie shook her head. “Not really. What’s going on here? Home has always been one of the happiest places in the whole wide world, and now looking at this… How come I didn’t grow up depressed or angry?”
 
“Perhaps,” the Buddha suggested, “even as a foal, whose parents have given all the happiness in the world, you may have felt an enormous responsibility to maintain that level of joy. That if the parent feels sad, then you try to cheer them up so that order can be maintained.”
 
“You are onto something my friend.” Discord said. “Maybe at this point, your mother had pushed her stresses beyond her limit and couldn’t cope. So, not knowing what was going on, you took on the role of the manic cheerleader. Not because you wanted to be, but had to.”
 
“I didn’t want her…” Pinkie started but trailed off. She felt a comforting hoof on her shoulder, turning her head, the Buddha gave her a comforting smile. As if to tell her that it’s alright to share. “I mean, Mom and Dad had done everything they could between the Rock Farm and us. They give us everything and the last thing I wanted was for them to think that everything they did came to nothing. That, and I don’t want Mom to carry any more burdens than she already did. Who wants that? I thought that as long as they’re happy, then they wouldn’t have any need to feel sad about anything.”
 
“Your heart is in the right place.” The Buddha nodded. “When we see a crying foal, our first instinct is to comfort it. When we find someone alone, we stay with them until we are certain they will be alright. However, this sort of attachment, without being mindful, can be hurtful to the one that you are trying to comfort.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“He means that what you need to do,” Discord informed her, “is to be sympathetic. Your origin for being so upbeat is that you’ve encountered enough sadness that you’ve wired yourself to not tolerate any hint of depression from others. And why wouldn’t you? Even as a small Pinkie, you believe firmly that if you can make someone crack a smile, it makes their problems go away.”
 
“But…” Pinkie tried to say, but her mane started to deflate. “I was just trying to help…”
 
“I believe you did.” The Buddha acknowledged. “But I’m beginning to see that you don’t know fully why we, as living creatures, have sadness. Consider the Rainy Season. It is a gloomy time when the sky sheds many, many tears. It is as if nature itself is in deep mourning for the loss of the countless trees, the countless animals, and the countless creatures who had perished. But yet, all those tears that come down from the heavens, they bring forth the fertility of Spring. No harvest is possible without this critical season.”
 
“So, you’re saying that to be sad is just as important as to be happy?”
 
“Something else to consider,” Discord said, changing the scene once more. 
 
While they were still blue and see-through, this time they were inside the ruins of a great palace, and before them crying in a throne that had a crescent moon, was Celestia. 
 
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” Discord told them. “The happiest ponies that you’ll encounter are often the ones who have suffered the most. Celestia at this point, just after banishing her sister, began to develop a more humorous side. Of course, not right away, but her pranks, her stand-up comedy period, and even the parades of clowns are the result of this.”
 
“But… how?” Pinkie questioned. “I thought she would be all grim and gloomy all the time. Yet… Celestia? She’s one of the funniest ponies out there.”
 
“It’s because she understood something that our friend did. In fact, at this point, we should ask him one important question.” Discord floated over next to the Buddha. “For someone that said all life is about suffering, why are you smiling?”
 
He smiled again. “Because since I realized how dark existence can be, and how horrifying the ways so much can go wrong, that I no longer have to focus these constantly at the front of my mind. As suffering is the baseline of existence itself, anything that stands out, such this cake,” he held his partially eaten cupcake up, “or being in the company of compassionate creatures like yourself is a bonus to me.”
 
Since the crying Celestia was becoming a little too distracting, Discord changed the scene again to that of a sandy desert in which they were no longer blue ghosts. 
 
“We’re a bonus?” Pinkie inquired.
 
“You especially.” He went on. “From my point of view, you have no reason to ask me how I was doing not too long ago. Nor did you have compassion towards me when I said that I haven’t eaten for a long time. And yet, you went out of the way to set aside any selfish desires to give me this sweet thing to eat. Your kindness is never compensation for any dashed hopes, but I see them as genuine gifts from an already bleak existence.”
 
“Wow… you really see it like that?”
 
The Buddha turned to face the sandy desert. “Consider this landscape. Life is much like this desert. It is unforgiving, hot, and deadly that stretches further than the eye can see. Yet, any happiness is like an oasis. Unlikely, but welcomed with gratitude when it makes itself known for a time.”
 
“Ah,” Discord smirked, “similar to what another philosopher said, ‘A life without festivities is a long road without an inn.’”
 
“If you would like to think it like so.” The Buddha nodded. “The reason why I am smiling, isn’t so much that I have to be sad to acknowledge life to be sad, rather, it is a rightful confidence that I already have done justice and would in the future again do justice to the sadness of things. This happiness that admits the despairing truths to serve as a vehicle towards the beautiful moments that deserves a smile. To savor, even the smallest moment like how one would be finding a drop of water in a desert. For every pain free day is a blessing.”
 
“Yes, but what am I going to do with Roseluck?” Pinkie asked.
 
“Well,” Discord said in a thick winter coat, “before the word Depression had a word, there was another to describe it – mourning. The best way, perhaps, is to treat her sadness as if she was in mourning over something. It doesn’t matter what it’s over, but rather to show a sober sympathy. Where she doesn’t want quick answers or solutions, just someone to be there with her.”
 
“I agree.” The Buddha said, “In life, what most want isn’t happiness, but compassion. Just as you gave me this cake, so too would your friend would like to be with someone in their grief.”
 
Pinkie slumped her flank into the sand. Not out of being downtrodden by this information, but thoughtful. After a long moment she looked up at Discord, “Can I go home now? I think I know what I’m going to do today.”
 
With a snap, Pinkie had gone back to Ponyville. 
 
“Thanks for helping me out.” 
 
The Buddha nodded. “And thank you for bringing her and this thing. Whatever this is, this sweet cake is wonderful. Although, I have something that I need to do as well. Can you return me to my place?”
 



 
Roseluck raised her head when she heard a knock on her door. As much as she didn’t feel like getting out of bed, she rose with barely enough energy to do so. Entering the hall and down the stairs just in time for the second round of knocks. She opened it to find something that she didn’t expect to see. There was Pinkie. Only she wasn’t smiling and being bombastic. In one hoof was a few dark blue balloons. On the other was a small cake that had the words “I’m sorry” written in frosting. 
 
“I know you don’t want to see me.” Pinkie said. “But I want to come by and say I’m sorry for what I did the other day. I really didn’t mean to make it worse for you. But I didn’t know how to act when ponies are feeling down very well. And I don’t feel right about leaving you alone to be sad so… can I stay awhile?”
 
After a moment of judging whether or not Pinkie was being sincere, Roseluck let her in.
> Rarity - On Happiness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘What am I doing wrong?’ Rarity wondered. It was late at night and in her large bed she lay there in the finest sheets money could buy, she was wide awake. Hours ago, she had returned from Canterlot where Fancy Pants held one of his parties. She was up not because something went wrong – far from it. The party was a success in her book. It took place in Fancy’s mansion, the Canterlot elite was there, food and drinks were plentiful, the entertainment was well refined, and she had established a complex network of contacts for any future projects she may have. 
 
Besides, she knew that business was doing rather well too. She had paid her taxes earlier than expected with plenty left over. Even writing out checks for charities wasn’t a problem this year. 
 
Not only that but as it turns out, that contrary to popular belief, Fleur de Lis is Fancy’s bodyguard and not his marefriend. She found out that recently Fancy is looking for love and has left the party leaving more than an impression on the stallion. Who knows, maybe a romance for her is just around the corner.
 
Besides, her relaxing few weeks in Prance was around the corner and she was seriously looking forward to it.
 
Yet, lying in bed, she can’t help the feeling as if something is missing. The fact that she already has an idea of what it was is enough to raise concern for herself. It was a feeling that she was embarrassingly familiar with. And for good reason too as she saw it.
 
‘Why am I not… happy?’ 
 
Not that she was unable to feel it. On some days, she was able to experience it for at least fifteen minutes or so. After all, it should be easy, being happy. Her friends seem to know how to do it, so why does she feel as if she’s the exception? What are they doing that she’s not? She has money. She has refined tastes. She’s cultured and knows what she likes. So, this ought to be a simple affair.
 
But why is it so difficult?
 
So, in trying to figure out this philosophical problem, she turned to Discord. While the school was having its lunch break, she trotted down the halls to the Draconequus’s classroom.  She noticed that next to the door there was a little sign – the chalkboard kind one would see next to the door of restaurants – where the edges are encompassed by lightbulbs, flickering around like a theater sign. Written on this sign in beautiful handwriting was the words:
 


HAPPINESS: Or How I Stopped Worrying 24/7 and Learned to Love the Simple Stuff.


 
Rarity paused. Did Discord already know what she was going to ask? Not that she minded, it would just make what she had to do a good deal quicker. So, she turned the knob and opened the door. Behind it was Discord in an opera box, holding a clipboard and looking down at the interior of a theater. Curious, Rarity stepped forward to see that this opera house was full of hundreds, perhaps thousands of other Discords, all chatting and waiting for the big red curtain to rise.
 
“Ah, Rarity!” Discord said, taking notice of her. “You’re just in time!”
 
“What are you doing?”
 
“A certain yellow birdy told me that you’re trying to figure out what happiness in its purest form is, so I decided to lend you several hands, hooves, wings, claws, and tentacles.”
 
“And I suppose Fluttershy has told you my dilemma?”
 
“Not exactly.” He replied, “More like Fluttershy’s birds who happened to be in your neighborhood that told me.”
 
“Well… I see. Now if you could just explain to me, darling, I will be on my-”
 
“Before you say anything else,” Discord interrupted, holding up the clipboard, “what’s your ideal happy life?”
 
Rarity blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
 
The next thing the unicorn knew, she sat on Discord’s lap who all of a sudden wore a fat suit with red and white trimmings, a fake white beard, and a cap on his head. “What would you like to have in life if you didn’t have any restrictions at all? What sort of place would you prefer to live in? What kind of food would you like to have every day? What kind of toys would you have? What kind of ponies would you like to be friends with? Go on, name it. What’s the sort of stuff that you always wanted to have?”
 
“Huh…” Rarity put a hoof to her chin. “If I’m being honest, there’s a lot of things I could name.”
 
“Like…?” Discord asked eagerly, clipboard at the ready to record.
 
“Well, a good amount of wealth to be more than secure. Probably better than my current situation is always a great positive. A villa by the sea – having a striking view is important.”
 
“Any particular style?”
 
“Prench rococo, obviously. Complete with a swimming pool, and a magnificent garden in the back. Complete with a spacious kitchen and pantry with the finest of foods. A dining room with large windows. A sewing room that has everything I need to create. A theater room very much like this space.” She waved a hoof to the opera house. “A staircase that has a glass dome on top. Some bedrooms. And my room, everything that a lady would need including a walk-in closet and a luxurious bathroom to help melt my troubles away.”
 
“Uh-huh…” Discord nodded, jotting down the order. “Anything else?”
 
“Yes. Immediate access to any fine dining restaurant in the world. A blimp that has suites that compare with any five-star hotel. Enough room for at least twenty ponies for each room. Frequent vacation spots in every cultural city in the world, including the finest apartments in the best of neighborhoods. A collection of the finest art, preferably Monet. Not to mention a good stock of hoof-crafted liquors. And perhaps a fleet of carriages that could rival that of the royals.”
 
Discord looked up from the clipboard. “Anything else, Your Majesty?”
 
Rarity frowned. “I suppose that would do as a start.”
 
“Good enough for me.” After he finished writing something, he hooked the clipboard onto a hook that Rarity didn’t notice as it seemed to have come out of nowhere. He tugged at it and the clipboard went flying upwards into the ceiling. “So why exactly would you want all of this?”
 
There was a pause, while Rarity gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? These are the things that luxury is made of.”
 
“Luxury, yes. But if you had these, would you be happy?”
 
“Well… wouldn’t I?”
 
Discord didn’t answer as the lights in the theater dimmed and the mummer from the audience of his copies shushed. A spotlight was lit up on the very center of the stage, and with a fanfare, the curtains parted open for a bit in which another Discord in doublet and hose stepped out with a script in his lion’s paw. 
 
“All the world’s a stage and- oh! Sorry! Wrong play.” He said, tossing the script aside, getting a laugh from the audience. “That’s what you get when you’re being told last minute what you’re doing. Anyway!” Clearing his throat, the Discord actor began: “Once upon a time there was a wealthy city called Árma.” 
 
The gigantic curtains parted, and there on the stage of a coastal town by the sea. Rarity was struck by how realistic the scene was. In the distance, she can see the clear blue ocean that was dotted with villas. And the town itself displayed shops, restaurants, theaters, boutiques, and homes in that Prench rococo style. Everything about this town from the well-trimmed gardens to the cleanliness of the main street they looked down on was screaming to the heavens about their wealth. Even the other Discords who populated this town, there wasn’t a thread that Rarity could see that was neither out of place nor out of style. Despite each ranging from a different period in history – even several that she had never seen before – there wasn’t one piece of clothing that was dated nor ugly. It was surreal, but gorgeous to look at.
 
The actor continued. “This old city has been said to be one of the most beautiful in the world. It wasn’t big, if anything, it was quite small. Although life here went on at a leisure pace, there were plenty of riches and wealth to go around. The architecture from home to business – magnificent! The clothes that the citizens wore – to die for. Even the humble foods that were served – like nothing in the world! And because of this wealth, the citizens here have more time to think about the important things in life. Such as-”
 
“What makes all creatures good?” A Discord actor in a silk robe fit for an emperor asked, looking out to the audience.
 
“How should power be run?” Another Discord in a slick dark suit inquired.
 
“Does this sandwich come with sundried tomatoes?” Asked a Discord in full body armor, asking a waiter at one of the restaurants.
 
“I don’t know about you,” Rarity whispered to the Discord next to her, “but I find this town rather marvelous.”
 
“Indeed, this town was rather marvelous,” the Discord out of a Shakespur play agreed on stage. “But alas! As ideal and perfect as this town was on the outside, it hid a rather dark secret.” After pulling on a chain from the sky, the stage instantly turned from day to night as, from the windows of the town, Rarity can see the shadows of other Discords. Many were arguing, some were fighting, and many, many were crying. Underneath a lit streetlamp, the doublet and hose Discord laments. “As rich as they were, not one of them was happy. It all seemed so easy, doesn’t it? All one needs in life were enough money, a romantic relationship, and to have the latest and greatest in luxury life had to offer is all you need…? Right? Yet, although this town has all those things and more, not one in this town could figure out why they were not happy.”
 
After pulling on the chain again to bring back the day, the narrator in hose continued, “It was then that, one day, a new resident came to town.” As he walked off the stage, a new actor walked on. This particular Discord had on the guise of an Ancient Pegasi, complete with white, flowing robes and a laurel reef on his head. Underneath his lion’s arm was a bundle of rolled-up paper in which he strode up to one of the town’s billboards to stick an advertisement up before exiting off stage.
 
Then, one of the Discords in a strange costume took notice of the flyer before being joined by many others.
 
“What is it?” One of them asks.
 
“It says… ‘Now Open: Epicurus’s School of Happiness?’”
 
Rarity looked up at the Discord near him, confused. “Epicurus? Are we talking about the pony that advocated the pleasure concept? The one that talked about hedonistic ideals?”
 
“The kind that there’s a magazine that’s all about luxury?” Discord inquired.
 
Rarity nodded. “Yes. I have a subscription where I get a copy once a month… But I don’t understand. This town is doing all that to a T, I thought they were already following his philosophy.”
 
“Fun fact,” Discord said as the curtains on stage suddenly dropped. “Everything you think you know about the guy has come off from the rumors about him. You see, unlike so many philosophers that asked what makes one good, he’s asking what was fun. As soon as the town heard that he was setting up a school on happiness, the rumors went through the roof and into the stratosphere.” The curtains rose again, this time to a dinner party in the foyer of a mansion. Complete with tables of food to the detailed marble columns with gold trimmings, for Rarity, it looked exactly how she described the interior of her ideal home to Discord earlier. “For example, a few months after the School of Happiness was opened, the town of Árma began to speculate.”
 
“Have you heard?” One of the aristocratic-looking Discords asked, wine glass in his talons. “About what is going on in Epicurus’s school?”
 
“Do tell?” A Discord in a white powdered wig inquired.
 
“I’ve heard that at the school, they serve hundred-course feats every night! Where the students gorge on themselves for hours, making this banquet of ours look a mere snack in comparison.”
 
“Ha! That’s nothing!” The other Discord replied. “I’ve heard that the school has collected the greatest works of art so they could admire them all day long. Going to that school would be like visiting a museum.”
 
“Oh, that’s adorable.” Another Discord, who had the outfit of a company CEO. “But I’ve got one better. I’ve heard that the school hosts some… how do I put this…? Naughty no-clothes parties every night. Why Epicurus himself had managed to deflower eighteen virgins in a single evening! If anything, I’m rather jealous.”
 
While these three were talking, a smaller, younger-looking Discord in the outfit of an Ancient Pegasi general asked them. “And how do any of you know about this?”
 
The three of them looked at him. “What do you mean?” the one in the powdered wig asked.
 
“I mean, how do we know that’s what goes on at that school? Have any of you set hoof in it?”
 
“Well, not exactly Diogenes.” The CEO looking Discord told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “But I’ve heard it from neighbors next to the school.”
 
“But doesn’t it sound a little too… fantastical? If that were true, how is Epicurus able to afford to do all of that?”
 
“I’ll tell you what, son? How about I send you over there.”

“Me?”
 
“Why not? You go over to the school and try to attend it for about a day or two to see what goes on over there. Who knows? Maybe they’re a bunch of crackpots, or perhaps they really found the key to happiness itself.”
 
“Then why can’t you do it?”
 
“I have millions of coins that need manufacturing.” The CEO father replied. “If I don’t, we’ll be in big trouble. And besides, you’re finishing school so you can afford enough time to go take a visit.”
 
The curtain descended and the Shakespurian narrator walked on stage with a spotlight on him. “It wasn’t just Diogenes’s father that was curious about the school. The whole town wanted to know what goes on inside its walls, but at the same time, they were hesitant as they weren’t sure if this wasn’t some sort of crazed cult. So, on that morning, young Diogenes bravely walked up to its doors.”
 
The curtain rose again, and there on stage was a large looking plain house, surrounded by a vegetable garden on all sides. At the double doors, Diogenes knocked on the door before waiting for a while. For a long moment, nothing happened. He looked at his watch, glanced around behind him before knocking again.
 
“I think everyone’s in the kitchen.” Looking over his head, he spotted Epicurus walking towards him from stage right, carrying a basket. “That, or maybe they haven’t woken up yet. I was out getting breakfast.”
 
“What’s in the basket?”
 
When he was close enough, Epicurus showed him the contents. 
 
Diogenes blinked. “There’s nothing in here except vegetables.”
 
“Nothing?” Epicurus laughed, “I mean look at these! We got some onions, radishes, celery sticks, plenty of carrots, and look at these!” He picked up an elongated root, “Sweet potatoes. Oh, we are in for a treat today.”
 
As he walked past him, Diogenes looked at the audience, puzzled. “Sweet potatoes are a treat?”
 
“What’s your name young stud?” Epicurus asked.
 
“Diogenes, sir, are you-”
 
“Oh, don’t call me sir, I’m not fifty yet. I’m Epicurus. Are you here for the school?”
 
“Well… as a matter of fact, yes. I was curious to know what’s in there.”
 
Epicurus laughed cheerfully. “In that case, don’t just stand there! Come right in! You are in time for breakfast.” While he let the smaller Discord in, the house on the stage began to turn, flipping around until the back showed a courtyard-like setting with arched open-air rooms with other Discords in robes. Now on the inside, Diogenes stopped and turned around, confused. 
 
“Something the matter?” Epicurus asked.
 
“This… Is the School of Happiness…? Right?”
 
“There’s no other place in the world like this paradise.”
 
“Is it?” Diogenes questioned, glancing at the other Discords. “I was expecting a little… more, I suppose. It looks a bit… empty.”
 
Epicurus laughed, “Everything we need is right here! Come, I’ll show you around!”
 
Back in the box seats, Rarity looked over to Discord, “This is the famed School of Happiness? It looks so… bland. Starlight’s village had more panache than this.”
 
“Maybe so,” Discord said, “but what you are looking at is essential to the philosophy of happiness?”
 
Rarity looked up at him, unconvinced. “How?”
 
“We all want to be happy, don’t we?” Epicurus on stage told Diogenes. “I have made it my life’s passion to seriously study and take careful examination into the subject. Here,” he handed the younger Discord a potato, “I’ve observed that despite all the evidence, most of us think that gaining happiness is easy, isn’t it?”
 
“Well naturally.” Diogenes agreed.
 
“Really now?” Epicurus smirked. “If it’s so easy, then enlighten me, how is it done?”
 
“Obviously, you would need a lot of money, a beautiful spouse, and all the comforts that money could buy, isn’t it?”
 
“I thought so too. Which was why that in my youth, I tried to observe the rich and powerful closely. They too believe in all of those things. And did you know what I found?” Diogenes shook his head. “I found that despite holding on the belief that as long as they have this or that object, that they could be at this place or have that drop-dead gorgeous so-and-so in their beds, then everything will be total bliss. And yet, everyone who has these are some of the most miserable and angry prone ponies who ever lived!
 
“But I still think that life should be about what was fun and pleasurable. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good meal, a fine drink, beauty and pleasures of the flesh like any other. For I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. However, it’s how they’re handled is the problem. So, after years of trial and error, I finally cracked it. I finally found a way to be happy – and the best is that it won’t cost you much at all.”
 
“Really?” Diogenes asked, intrigued. “How?”
 
With a smile, Epicurus leaned forward. “You want to be happy? It’s not hard. For all you need is three things. The rest isn’t needed, but to find happiness, you need these things that are as essential as air, food, and water.”
 
“So, what are they?”
 
“Look around, what do you see?”
 
Diogenes did just that. “I see… your followers?”
 
Epicurus laughed, “Oh no! They’re not followers! What do you think we're running here? A cult? No, these are my friends that have agreed to move in with me.”
 
“Okay, but do you have family here as well?”
 
“Not really. But to be happy, this is the first thing you need: have friends around you. They are not like your family because you can freely tell them anything and do all sorts of things that family protocol won’t allow. To be with like-minded fellows to laugh with, to be comforted by and to comfort. The trouble is that most don’t see their friends nearly enough.”
 
“So more than just once or twice a week?”
 
Epicurus shook his head. “It is preferred to be with them as long as possible. Regularity is important. This is why I brought this large home and asked my friends to come to live with me. Each of us has their own rooms, and there are sharing rooms, such as this so that there’s always someone pleasant to converse with. During mealtimes, it’s best to always eat or drink with someone nearby.”

“Why is that?”
 
“Before you eat or drink, always consider who you do so with rather than what you eat or drink. Feeding without a friend is the life of a lion or a wolf. Understand?”
 
“I… think so? But with these friends, is it just… well… having a nice conversation all you need? Like those with… benefits?”
 
There was a chuckle out from the audience. 
 
“I don’t deny that it’s a bonus,” Epicurus answered, “but it’s not always necessary. Love especially can get rather messy, even with the best of couples. There is always jealousy, back talk, betrayals, misunderstandings, cheating, and bitterness. Friendships, meanwhile, are when life is at its sweetest. There is no need to be so possessive. How decent friends can be with one another. You see?”
 
Diogenes nodded. “Alright. What of the other two?”
 
“Ah! Remember how you say that you need a lot of money?” He nodded. “Why?”
 
There was a long moment of blinking. “What do you mean?”
 
“Why do you need money so badly to be happy?”
 
He blinked. “Well… it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
 
“Then explain it to me. Like you would to a child.”
 
“Alright uh… well, money is important because you need it to live. You have to pay someone to live in a decent place. You have to pay for food, water, clothing. You need to pay taxes so that the place you live in would still function. You need to pay for schools, for things that break down, things that need to be built up. Uh… Oh! Travel! You need money to travel with too. You see, there are lots of things you need money for.”
 
“And how do you get this money?”
 
“You work for it.”
 
“How?”
 
“In a job, of course. You have to do things like sorting out paperwork, or fixing the pipes, or cooking food for others.”
 
“And these jobs, if getting money is essential to happiness, do those who have jobs go do these tasks willingly?”
 
“Well… no.”
 
“Ah! Why not?”
 
“I guess…” Diogenes rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose it depends on the work; you see. Sometimes the job is boring. Other times the bosses that they work for are… not good. There are times where the job may not pay enough or maybe they work long, back-breaking hours just to survive.”
 
“Yet, in all of this praise of jobs, there isn’t happiness to be found.”
 
“Wait, that’s not true. I mean… Look at Rarity over there.” He pointed to the unicorn in the opera box. “I know for a fact that she loves her job. She’s her own boss.”
 
“Maybe,” Epicurus nodded, looking up at her. “But do you know why she likes her job? Come, let’s ask her.” Walking towards the audience, he waved at her. “Pardon me, ma’am! Do you have a moment?”
 
“I…” Rarity glanced over at the several thousand other Discords in the theater, looking at her. “What do you want?”
 
“Would you answer a few questions for us?”
 
Trying to look dignified in this awkward situation, she responded that she would.
 
“Great! So, do you have a job?”
 
“I do.”
 
“What do you do?”
 
“I make the finest clothes in Equestria.” She told him with a hint of pride in her voice.
 
“And do you like your job, making clothes?”
 
She nodded. “Most certainly.”
 
“Ah! Well, do you work in a very large group?”
 
“No, I work best when I’m alone. I only work with others if I absolutely have to.”
 
“I see.” Epicurus nodded. “Do you work for yourself or someone else?”
 
“Myself.”
 
Smiling, he added, “One last question: this work you do; do you feel as if you’re contributing something overall in the scheme of things?”
 
“Oh absolutely!”
 
Satisfied, Epicurus turned to Diogenes, “You see? Having to work is never the problem. If anything, sometimes finding meaningful work is the best kind. Where one feels is if they’re improving the world in their own small way. This comes about when they have that freedom, that independence from not so good bosses and other things that tie one down. This is why we live here in a… well… I guess you may say a commune among friends. Of course, some of us still have to work in the gardens, cooking in the kitchen and be sure to clean up as well. But none of us are compelled to do so because we have to otherwise we receive no pay, but because we genuinely want to. It’s why I was in the garden because I find simple joy in gardening.”
 
“Huh…” Diogenes nodded. “So, to be happy, one must have friends, freedom… but what’s the third thing? You said there were three things we needed, didn’t you?”
 
“Quite!” He nodded. “I noticed something rather odd when it comes to the rich. In that they desire to have that latest luxury thing there is out there. From having a beautiful house or a tranquil scene to look out on. But after years of thinking about this rationally, I came to realize something truly remarkable. That it’s not these material things they’re really after, but rather a point in the grand scheme of things. What they really want out of these things, is a feeling of calm. Which is understandable, I suppose, we all want our minds to be pure, free from the normal boredom and unpleasant chaos.”
 
“And how do you think anyone could accomplish this calm if there’s nothing money could do to buy it?”
 
“Here at the school, we have developed a variety of ways from having some time on their own, reflecting on one's problems and anxieties, writing those problems down in essays and stories, reading stories that we can see our problems through the eyes of someone else, or simply meditating. Yet, the important thing to do is to search out the things that concern us, depress us, anger us, even frighten us, to look at these things in the eye and really study them. The more one does so, the less concerned, depressed, angry, or scared one becomes.”
 
Diogenes stood there for a moment. “That’s it?”
 
“That’s it. As far as I see it, all one needs for happiness is food, water, shelter, some warm clothing, friends, freedom, and one’s mind to look into. Anything else may be nice, but they’re not necessary. It doesn’t matter if you’re the poorest creature or the richest, as long as you have friends, freedom, and time to study your own mind, happiness is always guaranteed. But if one were to be without these, happiness is nowhere to be found.”
 
Just as Epicurus turned his back and was heading toward the kitchen area of the commune did Diogenes shake his head and said, “Wait! If that’s really what everyone needs, how come nobody has done that before if it’s that easy?”
 
“Why do you go to a doctor?”
 
“Wha-? What does that have to do with anything?”
 
“In a way, I see happiness like how those saw what makes one healthy in the past. Being healthy is so easy they used to say! After all, your own body should tell you if something is wrong, right? If you have a headache, just ask a friend to drill a hole in your head. Feeling queasy? Fill up a bathtub full of leeches, that’ll make it go away. Feeling discomfort after eating? Then all you need are some crystals with ‘healing properties’ to wave over you to make it go away.”
 
“But… none of those things work.”
 
“Exactly! Just because you’re experiencing discomfort, doesn’t always mean that you know what’s best for your body – much less your mind. It’s why we have doctors and philosophers. Because they took the time to study carefully the body and the mind to look with a critical eye at what’s wrong. Luckily for you, that is why I’m here! So, are you going to talk all day, or are you going to have breakfast with us?”
 
As Diogenes eventually followed Epicurus, the Shakespurian narrator walked on stage while the lights dimmed. “From that day onward, young Diogenes became a frequent student to the school, learning about the simple pleasures of life. He knew that what his new teacher taught was right, but looking outside of the walls of the school, he saw so many that were lost and unhappy. He tried to figure out, what exactly is there to be done? So, one night, Epicurus asked him to walk with him.”
 
When the lights came back on, they were in the town at night. Here and there, other Discords walked about, minding their own business, ignoring the two actors who walked on stage. 
 
“And why would you be concerned?” Epicurus asked. 
 
“Because by now, I think that you are onto something. Isn’t there some way to let everyone else know about it?”
 
“Sadly, I admit that the school only works the way it does because it’s so small. And if there were a few I could talk to personally, it’d be some help. But whole populations?”
 
“Yes. Do you think there could be some way to spread your wisdom to so many at once?”
 
He thought for a moment, humming to himself while walking through the brightly lit town. Then, he stopped and noticed the advertisement. “Huh… Now that is interesting.”
 
“What?”
 
“Look at that sigh there,” he pointed up. “‘Experience Freedom with Airpeak Cruises.’” Then at another sigh, “‘Have a Pint with Friends with Apple Cider.’” Then to another, “‘Silky Towels are Perfect for Peace of Mind.’” He then looked at Diogenes. “Are you seeing a pattern?”
 
After a moment where spotlights lit up on those three advertisements, Diogenes’s eyes widened. “It’s the same philosophy as yours!”
 
“In order to sell a product.” He nodded. “Now that is clever. Those who put up these signs seem to already know what we need but exploit it to sell a product. To anyone that isn’t aware of what they need, they confuse it with what they think they could buy. Perhaps they will go on a cruise, but it was freedom they seek. That they would buy crates of cider, but it was friendship they wanted. And the one who would buy all those towels would end up disappointed because it was peace of mind they were really after. Oh!” Epicurus turned to him. “That is the answer!”
 
“What is?”
 
“If you wanted to let the public know what happiness is, that is your answer. Put it on a wall, a billboard even. Maybe give them reminders of what they were seeking in the first place.”
 
As the lights dimmed again, the narrator hovered over the stage. “And so it was, that Diogenes was so committed to educating the public, that he sold his possessions, his home, even the clothes from his back to make a monument to Happiness itself. In the old market place of Árma, there is a wall that still stands in which he put everything that his teacher taught into a single image.”
 
With the lights up, there was a mosaic of the town of Árma that depicted the richly decorated homes, the fine clothing of its citizens, the lines of fine food, the decadent luxury that could easily rival Canterlot. And underneath it, all were the words: “YOU WILL NEVER FIND THE FRIENDS, FREEDOM, AND PEACE OF MIND IN THE MARKETPLACE.”
 
The red curtain fell at the end of the play. The audience applauded the players who took a bow. In the opera box, Discord was applauding. 
 
“It had a corny ending, but effective.” He remarked, turning to Rarity. “So, what do you think?”
 
She didn’t reply. For a while, even after the other Discord’s applause had died down and started to leave, she was in thought. “All this time I had the key to happiness at my hooftips. I don’t know if I should feel foolish or depressed over that fact.”
 
“If that improvised play should teach you anything, it’s that while it’s hard to figure for ourselves what makes us happy, doing so shouldn’t be.”
 
“But, does this mean that I have to give up everything to do what that Epicurus had done?”
 
“Now that’s crazy, and coming from me, that says a lot.”
 
“What are you talking about?”
 
“Rarity, darling, you have plenty of friends that you see on almost a daily basis; your own business to be more or less independent; you’re perfectly capable of finding calm in your own mind. If you want to be happy, all you need to do is see that you have the tools all along. You just need to know how to use them.”
 



 
Once school had been concluded, Rarity was thinking back to what Discord had said. In her mind, she knew that he was right. The only reason why she thought happiness was hard to obtain was that she thought it was hard. Money never stood in the way, nor was it needed to just have a good time. 
 
Eventually, she went towards the Teacher’s lounge where her friends were at. Talking about the day they had and were looking forward to doing something fun.
 
“There you are, Rarity,” Twilight greeted her, “I think it’s your turn.”
 
She blinked. “For what?”
 
“To choose what we’ll be doing tonight. Rainbow went yesterday with that bowling alley, so now it’s your turn. So, what will it be? Five-star dinner? A Night at the Opera?”
 
Rarity smiled. “If you all don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind sitting down at the Hayburger.”
 
All of her friends looked at her as if she had shredded her skin to reveal her disguise as a nine-foot purple people eater. “You what?” Fluttershy asked.
 
“It wasn’t until today that I’ve come to realize something, that it’s never the activity that makes the evening, but having those friends to share it with. Be it expensive or common, as long as I have all of you around, I can safely say that I am happy.”
> Fluttershy - Why Are Others Mean
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Discord put his cup down. “Alright, what’s wrong?”
 
This sudden question caught Fluttershy off guard. “What?”
 
“You have been quiet for a good ten minutes,” he pointed out, “usually as soon as I come waltzing in, you tend to get rather chatty over this or that. Especially during our tea parties. But up until now, you haven’t said a word.” He leaned forward. “And whenever you haven’t said a word, that usually means that something, somewhere, has gone wrong. So, what happened?”
 
Putting her cup gently down on a low standing table where it didn’t make a sound, she sat upright in her green chair. “Nothing. I don’t think it’s worth talking about, it’s nothing major.”
 
“Nothing? That’s funny,” Discord replied, picking up a sandwich, “nearly every easily triggered, ticking time bomb through-out history tends to say those words roughly before they send out shrapnel to whoever is nearby.” He proceeded to have the sandwich spouting a few lines from King Lear before Discord ate it.
 
“It’s just…” Fluttershy began. At this point, with anyone else, Discord would try to persist until they lend out the truth of what’s wrong. However, even the Draconequus knew that tactic wouldn’t work on a pony as gentle as Fluttershy. He simply would have to wait for the truth. In the meantime, he had the cucumber slices and mustard put on an opera of The Magic Flute, sideways. Finally, she explained. “…. It’s about Rainbow Dash.”
 
“What did she do this time?”
 
She let out a long sigh, followed by a minute of her thinking of how exactly to phrase her predicament. “Discord… I know I don’t tend to ask this from you but… I think this time I have to make an exception.”
 
Discord raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s rather vague.”
 
“Well, Discord, I think I might need your philosophical lessons.”
 
“Ooh!” His tail wagged like a dog, the couch he was sitting on lifted and glided over to her. “It’s about time I got around to you. So, what will it be? A guide through having an existential crisis? The meaning of life? What was Haygel talking about?” Discord grinned widely.
 
“Uh… no?” Fluttershy answered, gently pushing him away by a hooftip to give herself some space. “Why are so many creatures mean?”
 
Discord’s tail stopped wagging and he tilted his head at an odd angle. “Mean as in…?”
 
“How come, sometimes, certain creatures can be so cruel, or angry, or-”
 
“Evil?”
 
Fluttershy nodded. “Yes, but no at the same time. I mean why would anyone be rude or get easily upset over something. Regardless if it’s deserved or not. I’m sorry, am I not making myself clear what I’m asking?”
 
“On the contrary, what you are asking is a serious study that has been sadly neglected.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“For one,” Discord leaned back on the couch, his arms went around to uphold his head. “Things like anger, next to things like facing up to depression or death, are so uncomfortable subjects to talk about, let alone read. Yes, I could shine a heat ray of a magnifying glass over to show you some causes of why… But I have to warn you, Fluttershy, you’re not going to like the answer.”
 
She breathed in. “Tell me.”
 
“No, you really are not going to like it.”
 
“Why not?”
 
Discord sighed, running his talon and paw through his mane. “Because this is something that, if the author hasn’t done it already, is probably guaranteed to royally upset someone who might be cheerfully optimistic on the one amputated hand, and the depressed cynic on the tree branch. Where does anger, or cruelty, or being a jerk for the sake of it come from… is something that risks sending anyone, you especially Fluttershy, into a volcanic rage where it may lay destruction for the next ten-thousand-years.”
 
He closed his eyes. “So, I’m going to leave you, and those listening in on this conversation, a fair warning. What you are about to hear and/or read, is, in its nature, upsetting. It will require to take a radical but ancient look at an idea where billions, if not trillions will viciously deny. If you are easily prone to anger at the drop of Angle Bunny’s satisfaction to anything, if you are convinced that you’ve never done anything wrong in your life if you get easily offended by someone who uses the word ‘triggered’ to describe you, if you are solely convinced that someone is pure evil just… because. And if you think that the best way to deal with this is to be overly cheery or become a depressive cynic where you disappoint yourself before the world does it for you – or probably punch a hole into your electronics out of anger – please, for the love of colorful fictional ponies, leave right now.”
 
Fluttershy and the readers waited for a good solid minute.
 
Discord opened an eye. “Still here? Well, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.” He cleared his throat. “So, before I proceed, I do have to make one little adjustment before I start talking.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
“Give me a second.” He said, conjuring up a machine that had a plunger with a wire connecting to it, a hand crank, a set of numbers sitting behind glass, and right below it was the words: AGE MACHINE. Discord slapped the suction bit of the plunger with wires on his head and started cranking. Before Fluttershy’s eyes, as the numbers were quickly flicking down closer to zero, Discord looked to be getting younger and younger. She watched as the Draconequus reverted from back from adult… young adult… teenager… and then near the numbers of 10,000, Discord stopped the crank. Although the number was huge, Discord himself looked smaller, didn’t have a goatee, his mane, antler and horn were shorter, his eyes bigger, and he looked a little… slightly chubby. “There we go!” Even his voice was noticeably higher. In other words, Discord reversed his age to that of a foal.
 
“Discord! You were so cute!” Fluttershy exclaimed.
 
“T-There’s a reason why I need to look and sound like this.” Discord said, blushing and rubbing the back of his head. “I figured that if I try to present the lesson in a way that’s more uh… easier to swallow.”
 
“Yes but, why as a foal?”
 
“Have you ever noticed how nowadays that whenever young foals throw a fit they’re easily forgiven?” Discord asked, popping the plunger off his head and floating over to Fluttershy. 
 
She nodded. “Well of course. Especially towards the very young animals here. Why I had a chick flamingo that was being fussy because she didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
 
“Yeah, same idea here!” Discord said. “I figured that when I talk to you about something so upsetting, you wouldn’t see me, as the adult talking about it, but as a kid.”
 
“But you’re not in trouble, are you?”
 
He shook his head. “No, but I think it’ll just be easier to help you understand why some can be nasty.” After taking in a breath and sitting on the armrest of Fluttershy’s chair, he asked, “So, are you ready?” She told him that she was. “Okay. I think it’s best to start with why there’s anger.”
 
“Wait! Before you do.” Fluttershy got up to refill their cups with tea and handed his cup before sitting back down and tugging at his cheek. “That’s better.”
 
“Fluttershy!” Little Discord waved his paw and talon, “This is important, can you take me seriously for a minute?”
 
“Oh… I’m sorry. The look works a little too well. Sorry, go on.”
 
“Okay.” He took in a deep breath. “So, whenever you encounter someone angry, what do you think of them?”
 
Fluttershy sipped her tea. “I see them as, well, gloomy. They can be so gruff, frightening and dangerous in how they shout and smash things. Even hurt others too.”
 
“Yeah, it tends to look like it. But the truth is, especially towards those who are angry, have you noticed something odd?” She shook her head, giving a confused look. “That the angriest folks you’ll ever meet, are oftentimes the most optimistic.”
 
“But that doesn’t make sense. I thought optimists are happy types that see the world as the glass half full.”
 
Discord nodded. “Yet, that’s exactly the problem.” Waving his tail, he took out from underneath the pillow between them a book. A foal’s book with simplified, colorful artwork with the picture of a sulking King Sombra on a throne. Fluttershy noticed the title The Sulking Sombra. “Would you believe that one of the most feared, cruel and violent ponies in history was the most optimistic pony that ever lived?”
 
“What? Sombra? Never.”
 
“Here, let me show you,” Discord said, sitting on her lap and flipping open the pages of the picture book. He turned to a page where Fluttershy can see the moving drawings as Discord began to read. “This is Sombra. He is often very angry. He has countless slaves who are forced to serve him by making him do all his chores and has strict rules for them to follow.” He turns a page to Sombra eating dinner by candlelight. “One of these rules was that no slave was allowed to interrupt his dinner at 7 o’clock.” He turned the page to a panicky slave rushing in and a wide-eyed Sombra. “One day, a slave burst in to tell Sombra that the Diamond Dogs were attacking his kingdom.” Discord turned the page to where the drawing of Sombra was overturning the dinner table, punching the slave, and turning into a scary dark mist – much to Fluttershy’s discomfort. “Now Sombra is shouting! He has destroyed his dining room, broken the slave’s bones, and smashed several walls into pieces! Sombra is shouting because he is deep inside so…” He turned the page, and while the destruction continued, that inside the dark mist was a chalk outline of a miserable Sombra. “Hopeful.”
 
Fluttershy was silently confused. 
 
Discord turned the page. This showed a group of slaves cowering in a corner while the tyrant screams at them. “Sombra at times loses small things like keys, crowns, and body parts. Today, he has lost the key to the dungeon. ‘WHERE HAS IT GONE!’ he screamed at the slaves. ‘WHICH ONE OF YOU TOOK IT!’ Sombra is shouting, because deep inside, he’s so…” He turned the page, where the only difference was that Sombra’s shadow on the wall was looking at the slaves sadly. “Hopeful.”
 
He turned the page again to a balcony of the Crystal Empire with a disgruntled Sombra looking out at the empty fields, except for a few soldiers in armor. “Sombra expects to go conquer the world. His army is much smaller than he liked. This is an outrage!” He turned the page to a Sombra who was in the process of beating a pony in armor. “He goes to the general of his army and gives him a piece of his mind. Now Sombra is shouting, punching, kicking, and biting. He does this because deep inside, he’s so…” He turned the page, and on the floor, Sombra was beating himself. “Hopeful.”
 
“But I don’t understand,” said Fluttershy, “why would Sombra be so hopeful?”
 
“Because, like everyone else,” a young Discord explains, “that regardless of all the times he runs into these over and over again, he stubbornly holds onto a faith in a world that others will always understand him, that small items don’t go missing for no reason, and that our grandest of plans will always, always materialize.”
 
“Wait, none of those things happen all the time.”
 
Discord nodded. “But I think I understand why.” He whistled and a picture frame from one of the walls sprouted wings and flew over into his hands. “Do you remember what it was like as a baby?” Fluttershy shook her head but saw the picture that Discord was holding. It was one of her parents and her as a very little foal. “You see, when we were babies and didn’t know how to talk, we had to rely on these two giants to take care of us. They magically seem to know what we needed. That they knew what our favorite food was. Sometimes we needed our diaper to be changed. Or that we needed some sleep. Yes, this was love, but in reality, they too were guessing at our needs. This assumption followed us as we grew up. That if someone really cares about us – honestly and truly – then there would be no need for either of us to speak up about what we want.”
 
“But what does that have to do with Sombra?”
 
“Simple. Because, among so many reasons, he maintained a faith that he would be able to get his way without using words to convey what he needs. And when he became king, his expectations grew higher and higher to the point where when something bad does happen to him, it happens so fast and so unexpectedly, that he screams. When he gets angry, he does it not because he’s evil, but that he’s presented with some unpleasant surprises that happen so quick and unexpected that it… for lack of better words, triggers his fight or flight response.”
 
“Are you making this up?” 
 
Discord smirked, “For example: the more you tell someone that they’re wrong, the more they’ll think they’re right.”
 
“No, Discord I think you must be mistaken-”
 
“And just like that.” The little Discord snapped his talons to where a large balloon appeared out of nowhere. Laying on it belly-first, he floated over to boop her nose, “You proved my point. I just gave you something that goes against your expectations, and without thinking why you dug further into them.” He floated over her head, “You’re not alone, Fluttershy, there have been studies from Psychologists. And what they found was that being told your wrong hurts so much alone, that it lights up the same area of the brain of the fight or flight response. In other words, shattering expectations has the same effect as being in physical pain.”
 
“If that were true,” Fluttershy mused, “and if anger is an extreme form of surprise, how come they continue to be angry despite encountering the same thing over and over? Wouldn’t they have learned to expect it?”
 
“I told you,” Discord let go of the picture, in which it perched on a nail in a wall. “He was too optimistic. Because he maintains a belief that things will become better for him over time. That surely, this or that hiccup will pass and never be encountered again. However, he is caught in a cycle where he is continuously disappointed and surprised. Perfectionists get caught in this trap too, but they and the local optimist have something in common: it’s because they set their expectations of what life will be like far too high.”
 
“So, you’re saying that anger comes from high expectations?”
 
He nodded. “That’s part of the reason.” Discord hopped off the balloon and onto a ceiling beam. Sitting down to let his legs and tail dangle off, he looked over to her. “However, there is another piece to the puzzle. And this applies to not just to villains, but to… Pretty much everyone.”
 
“And what’s that?”
 
Taking out a pair of dark sunglasses, Discord put them over his face. “What if I told you,” he said, “that no one – not Chrysalis, not Tirek, not Cozy Glow, not Sombra, or even Rainbow Dash – is bad just… because. What if I told you, that the worst kind of folks aren’t just evil for the sake of it? What if,” he tilted his glasses, “they are scared or in pain.”
 
“I…” Fluttershy tilted her head. “Don’t follow.”
 
“In other words, what if every bad guy or your casual jerk is actually somebody who doesn’t know how to cope?” 
 
“But I don’t understand. You’re not making much sense. Are you telling me that even the worst action that any villain has done can be… justified?”
 
Discord shook his head, tossing the glasses away. “I admit, even I don’t know if doing just that could be done. However, what can, is to look at the causes of all of it. I am not asking you to accept every horrific thing, rather, to look at where it comes from. Regardless of who they are, that while their behavior looks strong, intimidating, frightening, or destructive; I promise you that no one mature enough who felt strong would behave like this.”
 
“But they still do anyway,” Fluttershy commented, taking up to the air, holding her tea in her hoof.
 
“Now that’s true.” Discord said, tying the ends of a rope swing from out of nowhere, and then teleporting himself into the seat. He started to swing. “Fluttershy, have you ever wondered how certain ponies and creatures got to be a certain way? Like, say… how did Chrysalis get to be this cruel and greedy? Or why is Tirek so angry all the time? Or even how could Rainbow Dash do whatever it was she did?”
 
“That’s why I’m asking you.” She deadpanned. 
 
“Well, the best way to do it is to try to imagine all of them how they got there, to begin with. Because every irritating, frustrating, brutish fault they and so many others have had a long, long history behind it. You see, they have become like this because something went wrong with them as they grew up, which most likely didn’t choose for themselves. If anything, I can name the sources of four traits that make both average creatures and villains alike to become as they are: Anger, Pride, Greed, and Hate.”
 
Suddenly, Discord and Fluttershy were on the carpet on the floor. Around them were toys that the mare was sure they weren’t there before. The little Discord quickly put together a city of blocks that piled high up to the ceiling and beyond. Next, he grabbed a scary looking, aggressive faced toy robot, he wound up the key. “With anger, it comes from a place of not only panic at the unexpected things that have gone wrong but also from anxiety as well.”
 
“Anxiety?” Fluttershy tilted her head, “What do you mean?”
 
“Have you ever been put in a situation where you want to do something, but you don’t know how?” He asked, setting the fully wound up toy down but didn’t let go of it. Fluttershy nodded. “Imagine that but put under so much pressure that you let your first impulse take over.” He let go of the toy robot, to which it proceeded to wave its arms about, shouting incoherently, and began to knock down the towers of blocks. Instinctively, Fluttershy moved herself and her cup out of the way. 
 
“So, because of this,” Discord explained while the toy continued on the rampage. “Much of the angry things they say when upset are rarely meant, even when they insisted on it. They call the nastiest of names, break stuff, hurt others because they are terrified. The angry are shouting because they are fighting for their very lives.”
 
“But what do you think- Eeep!” Fluttershy moved out of the way before a skyscraper of colorful blocks could hit her. “What do you think you should do?”
 
“Honestly?” the little Discord looked over to the toy who had climbed up one of the towers, fighting off paper airplanes. “You have to understand that they, like everyone else, have been told early on that to be angry isn’t very nice. That being angry ruins the image of how others see us as kind or sympathetic, like what good folks should be. Even after the angry are done, they feel guilty for their anger; especially towards the ones they care about. Or perhaps they get upset at themselves what they dismiss as a ‘small’ problem. So, there’s no need to tell the angry that their behavior is awful because that’s what they think about themselves already.”
 
Noticing that one of the paper planes was struck and had fallen, little Discord climbs up the tower to grab hold of the toy. “Instead, saying something along the lines of,” he turned to the toy that’s struggling in his grip, “You must be scared.” The robot toy stopped and looked up at him. “Saying something like that is the kindest and probably most effective response to someone who is angry. It gets to the heart of what’s going on inside their heads. What the angry need most, I think, is to appreciate their fragility, not scold them for their uproars.”
 
A quick whistle, and this time the whole room had piles of fluffy white pillows. All around them are stitched dolls of pegasi that are in groups. Discord glided down and, as Fluttershy noticed, the robot toy has been replaced by a small mechanical figurine of Rainbow Dash. “Then there’s pride.” Discord said as he winds the toy up. “It might look to the rest of the world that the prideful and arrogant boasts and be a huge stand-off because they’re so pleased with themselves, right?”
 
“I thought that was obvious.” Fluttershy pointed out. “It’s not just Rainbow Dash, but there’s Trixie, the Flim Flam brothers, Prince Blueblood, Chrysalis-”
 
“I’ll get to her later.” Discord interrupted, letting the toy Pegasus go, flying around doing tricks, “Despite what you think, all of that couldn’t be further from the truth. Underneath the honeyed word boasting about themselves, about their class, their intelligence, or their skill, is a response to feeling invisible.” While he was talking, they noticed that the mechanical Rainbow Dash had stopped to notice that the other toys aren’t looking at her. So desperately, the toy goes from one group to another to try to get their attention. “The prideful try as hard as they can to push the idea of their importance because they’re afraid that their very right to exist is being challenged. For some, they dread having others think ill of them unless they thrust their greatness on them. But for others, if that doesn’t work, they may go the other direction and try to be as despicable as possible so it would guarantee a reaction. Any sort of attention is better than having none at all and being convinced that we don’t have a right to exist.”
 
Fluttershy sipped her tea but this time, she had a thoughtful, if pitiful look as she watched the toy frantically trying to get someone to notice it. “When you put it like that, that must be a sad way of living.”
 
The little Discord nodded. “They don’t need to be told they’re horrible for being in your face; they secretly think of this already. What they want, or rather, need,” He picked up the toy and put it in Fluttershy’s free hoof. The mechanical Rainbow Dash looked up at her, “is to have encouragement to feel real pride in their merits. To remind them that something like their virtues, regardless of how small, is worth all the mastery of any given skill.”
 
After clapping his talon/claw, the room changed to where everywhere there are small, plastic Changelings before they have been reformed; a toy miniature of the Hive; and in her hoof, Fluttershy saw a Chrysalis doll that had a string and a ring behind its back. Curious, she put her cup down and pulled the string, but no matter how many times she pulled it, the doll said the same thing:
 
“Give me that, it’s mine!”
 
“You want to know the funny thing about greed that’s, well, kinda sad?” the young Discord asked Fluttershy. “That while others look on the greedy as advantaged because they’re taking more than their fair share; they’re doing it because they feel desperate.”
 
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “Why would someone like Chrysalis feel desperate?”
 
“Could you imagine what she might have gone through to be so neglected and vulnerable to the point where she had to take more? Could you picture her from long ago experiencing a famine where love was in such short supply? What kind of poverty and starvation did she have to experience to drill that fear that it would happen again into her head? Sure, I consider her as a glutton for love, but the same reasoning works here too. She’s emotionally starving. Unlike Thorax, she never discovered any new sources of kindness, or security, or a stable emotional connection. That fact that anyone is anywhere near as greedy as her is a sign of being emotionally undernourished.”
 
“Even if she did,” Fluttershy said, setting the toy on top of the plastic hive, “even if she had it rough in the past, why couldn’t she move on? I have known plenty of wild animals, even ponies who have experienced long periods of going without food or care and most of them turned out fine.”
 
“Maybe.” Discord nodded, activating a switch that sends the toy Chrysalis spinning and the hive lighting up. “But perhaps I could explain it with a story.” He pushed a button on the hive  which sent arcing bolts of lightning that struck three of the Changeling toys. Two of them were turned into monks, complete with orange robes while the third took on a mare complete with a beautiful miniature robe. Discord then took his cup of tea and poured it on the floor, forming a river. 
 
“Once upon a time,” he began while the three toys started to move, reenacting the story, “there were two monks. One was a master, the other his student. While they were making a pilgrimage, they happened upon a muddy river and a concerned mare trying to figure out how to cross it without ruining her clothes. The younger monk walked right past her as he crossed the river. But the master, he stopped, picked her up, and carried her across the river. He placed her down, bid her farewell, and the two monks carried on their journey.
 
“While the monks continued, the student was shocked because his master had broken one of their rules to never touch mares while they are monks. His master, seeing that his student had frustration on his face, asked what was wrong. The student snapped at him. ‘How could you carry that mare!’ he yelled. ‘You know as well as I that we’re not supposed to go anywhere near mares, it’s against our way of life!’
 
“The master, with a smile on his face replied, ‘I left the mare by the edge of the river a long way back. So why are you still carrying her?’ The master had indeed broken the rules, but he did so for good reason. Once that purpose was done, he placed the mare down and continued. If anything, the master didn’t give it any further thought. But the student, however, he never touched the mare, but he had brought up the actions of his master when it was in the past. In a way, the student had also broken a rule too because he was carrying the burden of what his master had done – when monks aren’t supposed to hold on attachments.” 
 
There was another bolt of lightning that struck the Changeling dolls and they transformed back into their unreformed selves. Discord continued, “Like Chrysalis, even though it happened in the past that, regardless if it happened to her or not, she carries that baggage, clinging onto that pain. She couldn’t let go because it was painful, that it hurt her so much, that the idea of letting it go would go against her expectation of a just world. That if she was pushed, it would seem crazy to not push back.”
 
“I don’t agree,” Fluttershy said, “but at the same time… it’s hard to disprove it right now.”
 
“And last but not least,” the little Discord stood proudly, a lion paw up in the air and snapped. Now the room has turned into a battlefield with armies of toy soldiers fighting in every direction. Even Fluttershy had to take flight as there were so many. “The origin of hate itself. This might come as a surprise to you, Fluttershy, but hate is really an intense form of envy. Sometimes, when one finds something that the other lacks such as that they’re able to be more successful than they are; or that they can rewrite comic book canon to their liking; or that they can be more liberated to be themselves; or have more followers. It doesn’t matter what, that as long as it’s anxiety to see someone having something that they lack, they respond with hate. Instead of letting their envy become their teacher, to show what is missing in their lives, they instead turn it on those who have what they lack and declare war.”
 
“But what about those that hate themselves?” Fluttershy asked.
 
“Good question!” Discord said cheerfully, tossing some more paper airplanes that carried loads of parachuting troopers. “In the case of self-hatred, it comes about from the envy of not being a better version of themselves. Because they stumble on so many flaws so easily, that sometimes they find being able to change for the better is hard. So hard, that they would become their own worst bully, critic, and a demon all rolled into one. Whenever they fall into an addiction they’re trying to get rid of, they blame themselves. Whenever they remember how much pain they caused others, they whisper to themselves that they’re not really sorry, even if they meant it. They are to a degree envious about having flaws that makes them seem disgusting.”
 
Fluttershy hummed in thought. “So, what exactly should I do when encountering someone who acts like a big meanie?”
 
With an unsnap, the toys are cleared away and young Discord was bathing in a large cup of tea. “There are two things: one is to have a little more of this,” he tossed over to Fluttershy a small, orange plastic bottle with a cap on top. She looked at what was on the label, it read: Pessimism – Take only a few each day. “If you want to live calmly, it’s best to have a little bit of this before you so much as walk out of your room each morning. By lowering all your high expectations to zero, it would help ease up how painful it is when they’re suddenly smashed. To be happy, happiness is equal to expectations over reality. But since not everyone can change reality like I can, the pessimist knows that it’s best to reduce expectations.”
 
Curious, Fluttershy opens up the bottle. “There’s nothing in here except a piece of paper.” She said taking it out. 
 
“That’s the medicine.” He told her, “read what it says.”
 
She unrolled the miniature scroll. “‘Life can and will go wrong. Chores are not or ever will be fully done. Small important items like keys will go missing. Small and large things will be damaged or destroyed.  There will be traffic. Everycreature is worried, anxious, sad, and scared most of the time. It’s normal to have regrets. It’s normal to be mocked by everyone. Anyone that you think is normal is those we haven’t gotten to know. It’s hard to be happy for longer than fifteen minutes. All your hopes will be ruined. Mediocrity is normal. No one is excepted from accidents or death. Fortune can change its mind about your well-being anytime it wants. Important things like family, your friends, home or your possessions will be destroyed somehow. You will be ignored, even if you cry for help. But that’s okay.’”
 
Blinking, she looked over to Discord who had expanded the teacup to fit a floating rubber goat to hold him up. “This is really dark.”
 
“Of course, it is,” he said, “it’s really helpful as it keeps our expectations in check. However… I’d be careful using it too much if I were you.”
 
“Why is that?”
 
“Because otherwise, you might become a modern Cynic, those who are so afraid of pain and so addicted to that stuff you’re holding, that they’re willing to do mental gymnastics to secure against discouragement that’s bound to happen. They overdose on that medicine to the point of disappointing themselves before the world could do it for them. Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever take that. Think of it…” He paused as a thought came to him. Suddenly the teacup was gone and he was wearing a little doctor’s white coat, complete with a toy Stephen scope. “Think of pessimism like taking aspirin. Only taking it when you feel something painful coming or is happening, that as long as you take the recommended dosage, you should be fine. It’s only when you overdo it that gets you into trouble. It’s best to have a balance between hoping for the best and preparing yourself mentally for the worst in a calm, mature way.”
 
“Okay,” Fluttershy nodded as she put the scroll back. “I suppose that makes sense. And the other thing?”
 
“Hm? Oh! Well then the other thing you’ll have to do when you encounter someone so mean, is to forgive them – which is one of the weirdest things in the world to do.”
 
“But being forgiving is considered a virtue.”
 
“Yes, only not everyone does it. And I get why, it’s pretty easy to hold onto a grudge and sulk because, well, we’re in the right! What those idiots have done is so foolish, so thoughtless and mean that forgiving them is beneath us. However, there are three revolutionary ideas to keep in mind. First, the next time you talk with Rainbow Dash, just remember that it isn’t just her in the here and now you’re talking to.”
 
“What does that mean.” 
 
Out from the coat pocket, the little Discord pulled out a nesting doll that had Rainbow Dash’s face on it. While he talks, he pops open the lid of each doll that got smaller and smaller. “You’re not just talking to Rainbow the adult mare you see before you. It’s also Rainbow the insecure adult, the anxiety-driven teenager, the confused Rainbow that just hit puberty, the child that is envious of others winning, and the infant that screams for her parents in the middle of the night. Being able to forgive her, is to do so to any of these that are layered in her head.”
 
“But I don’t think Rainbow would like it if I treat her as younger than she is.”
 
“And you don’t. It’s having the ability to see through the adult that you physically see to forgive the frightened, anxious, disappointed, furious, or awkward foal within. Just because she may look grown-up, doesn’t mean that her past has left entirely.”
 
Fluttershy’s eyes flashed in realization. “So that’s why you turned yourself into a foal. This is an object lesson, isn’t it?”
 
He nodded. “The second is to imagine how the Rainbow that offended you got there, to begin with. Since no one is entirely bad, it’s not what they say or does that you should focus on but where they’re in pain. If you can find where they’re being hurt, you go away from seeing them as a demon, but someone who doesn’t know how to cope. To forgive her is to understand the origin of cruelty.
 
“As for the third…” After discarding the doll and the coat, he went up to Fluttershy and took a hoof in his hands. “I’m going to say something harsh. I know you don’t get angry with me easily but… please don’t be angry.”
 
“Why?” Fluttershy asked, taking a moment to set her cup down. “What’s the matter?”
 
The young Discord took in a deep breath and looked up at her with puppy eyes that are heartwarming enough to make it melt. “Don’t take this the wrong way… There are some difficult things about you too.”
 
“But I already know that.”
 
He shook his head. “I’m not saying that you have something difficult about you in this or that. Not the stuff that destroys your faith in decency. No. As hard as this is, but some areas are so small and quiet that you go through them without noticing. In such, that nicely, you have been a coward. Gently, in your own way, have betrayed. Modestly, you forgot the advantages you had. Without thinking, you have added salt to the wound. All of this without you noticing.”
 
She frowned. “Discord, are you saying that I’m a bad pony?”
 
“N-No!” He cried, but just as quickly, he regained himself. “All I’m saying is that even I don’t need to know anything about you to know this as a certainty. Even I’m not exempt, and I’m almost perfect in a funny way. But the reason why you should be forgiving a little more is that – maybe not now, or over this or that, but over something one day – you would need to be forgiven too. It takes a good deal of imagination and courage to not only say ‘Sorry,’ but to have a strong soul to utter the most unnatural words in any language.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
Letting go of her hoof, he summons the Age Machine. Placing the plunger with wires on his head. “I forgive you.” He turned the crack and Fluttershy watched him age up from a child, to a teenager, a young adult, and back to the proper age, height, and goatee that she knew well. Pulling the plunger off his head, he looked around the room of toys and discarded costumes, then with a snap, he made it disappear. He sat back down on the couch. “So, does that answer your question?”
 
“I think so.” She nodded. “Although I admit it was a rather long explanation.”
 
“That’s the funny thing about Philosophy, I suppose,” he said, sipping his cup, “sometimes we love to hear the sound of our own voices.”
> CrackedInkWell - Know Thy Self
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lying out on a bed, I stared at a blank sheet of paper before me. With a typewriter on my lap and hooves just touching the keys, I hesitated. For me, I had faced writer’s block before but… there was something different about this. It’s not that I don’t know what to write. There have been several days in which I let out a stream of consciousness right onto the page. Hammering out sentences until I had reached that end goal of a minimum of a thousand words a day so that the story could make progress. This time, however, is different. Because I know perfectly well what the subject for this final chapter is going to be. Frankly, it is something that I knew deep down that I wasn’t looking forward to.
 
Know Thy Self.
 
The motto of the great Socrates himself. A method to give the readers a medication guide into themselves. To gain self-knowledge that, in hopes, provide them with the information they needed to become more enlightened. Yet, the irony was that as easy as it was to have ponies that weren’t me to go through the lessons, the hardest I have to face would be myself.
 
The truth I have to face is that… I’m scared. Not because of the lesson itself, but the fear of after spending years upon years in the dark, that if I turn on the light to face a mirror, I would see a monster staring back at me. What if I release this honest self-portrait to my readers, I would be sent in letters of shock, disgust, horror from them. That they would condemn me as a charlatan, a coward, an ignorant amateur who Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle would gladly slap across the face. 
 
I can almost see it now. “Dear CrackedInkWell,” every reader would start, “I cannot believe that I have wasted a good couple of years, closely following what you put out only to find that in the end what you’ve written up is nothing more than a gigantic letdown! Your grammar is terrible! The spelling is atrocious! The punctuation is in a depressive state! And the so-called ‘lessons’ you’ve let out? Good Celestia! What were you thinking! They were boring, uninheritable, long, inaccessible, stupid, incoherent, and it would make any Philosophy Professor weep. You’re a terrible writer and you deserve to be forgotten forever and ever til and after the end of time! If there’s anything that you did prove, it is that you have written positive proof that you are, beyond all doubt, as retarded as the two disabilities that you have. Unsubscribed, all your readers.”
 


You know, if your readers found out that’s what you think about yourself, I wouldn’t be surprised they would send you straight to a nearby mental hospital. 


 
I blinked ‘Those words were not on the page a moment ago.’ But no sooner had I thought that the typewriter was moving on its own.
 


Of course not. If you’re going to be doing this, then the least you could do is have me as your guide. Discord?


 
Giving out a disgruntled sigh, I pushed the typewriter to the side of the bed. “Okay, where are you? And what do you want?”
 
“My my,” I looked over to the side to see that my typewriter has now been given a face. His face, “after spending a good couple of years writing about me, you’d think you’d know every hair, wrinkle and pore of my face by now.” He pulled himself out from the confined space of my typewriter and onto the bed next to me. “If anything, I’m hurt that after all this time you fail to realize that I could be of assistance at any time. Oh, for shame.”
 
Rolling off the bed, I told him, “You still haven’t answered my question.”
 
“And I’ve already told you. I’m here to help.”
 
This gave me pause. “Help me?”
 
“Well do you see anyone else inside this orange room that’s gonna do it? No? Well c’mon, are we gonna do this or what?” He asked, his tail wagging about like a dog.
 
“I thought this lesson was going to be about you, isn’t it?” I questioned him. “After all, this was meant to be your crowning lesson. Your big meditation that might inspire many readers throughout the world because you showed them how to do it.”
 
“Ah, Ah, Ah!” Discord wagged his talon at me. “You’re not gonna get away that easily! It may not look like it to our devoted readers, or yourself for that matter; but YOU need this. This is something that you have put off for far too long now. You stall, and stall, and stall, and waited, and pushed back, and delayed it further and further. Well, guess what buddy?” He grinned wickedly, “Today’s Judgment Day.”
 
I flinched back until I bumped into my desk behind me. “C-Come on… This is supposed to be about you. Nopony wants to hear anything from m-”
 
“Stop!” He said sharply and sternly like the sudden strike of a gavel. “That, right there, needs to stop. You’ve been the therapist for everyone; the entertainer for everyone; the silent writer that’s never expressed his views because it makes it easier for everyone for far too damn long.” He craned his neck over towards me. “Well guess what, buddy? Today’s your turn to be on the therapist’s couch.”
 
Before I could protest, he snapped his talons. Suddenly, I’m lying on my back on something soft. Looking around, I’m on a couch that has the same pattern as the enormous carpet next to me. Patterns of red, white and greens that look Saddle Arabian in origin. I noticed a wooden desk nearby, along with a few pedestals of mostly classical Pegasi busts, along with some Ancient Southern Equestrian statues, the Buddha, and next to the bookshelves was pictures of ancient Pegasi frescos. Reproductions by the look of it. 
 
“Now that you’re finally taking the time out of your oh-so-busy schedule,” I looked over my head to find Discord, sitting cross-legged on a low green chair. He was holding a clipboard, had on a suit and a pipe blowing out bubbles. “Perhaps we could finally get around to you telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing except the truth about yourself.”
 
“Discord, why are you dressed like Sigmund Freud without the accent?”
 
“Because we both know how bad you are writing accents that aren’t American Southern or your own – now!” He turned to me. “On with your lesson.”
 
I sighed in annoyance, landing my head on the pillow beneath me. “Fine… Let’s get this over with.”
 
“Now the mind is usually the greatest source of trouble.” He began. “Usually, they come from thoughts that have not been untangled, carefully looked at, or properly confronted with. Because life, yours especially, has been moving so fast, you gather up these un-thought thoughts throughout each day. Sometimes, not being able to sleep at all at night is the revenge of your thoughts from not being given a voice. Because they are so muddled and unfocused, they generate static anxiety. Even give rise to looming clouds of doom and gloom without understanding why they’re there. Doing so is dangerous.”
 
I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
 
“Because if left unattended for far too long,” he said, “you can get snappy and become enraged. Have mental breakdowns without having a clue as to the cause of these inflections. So, I’m going to have you exercise your mind, to give you the techniques to clear up your mind and make sense of your silent feelings and ideas. Now, these priorities should ideally be set aside a few minutes a day either in the early morning or late at night. Have something to write down to anchor your self-interrogation with.”
 
“Huh… That doesn’t sound so bad.”
 
“Then, you should ask yourself three important questions.”
 
“And there it is…” I said sarcastically, throwing my hooves up in the air.
 
“But, before I ask,” he added, “I know that having to respond to these, the mind gets nuts and probably easily frightened. Often times, something will come to mind, but it’s not clear as to what it is yet. It could be a word, a mental image, a place, a time, a name, even a set of numbers. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. For this to work, you must catch as many ideas that come to you without thinking too much. Just write everything you could down, no matter how minor, and don’t worry if it doesn’t make any sense.”
 
“So, this is an author’s version of the inkblot test?”
 
“If you like.” He nodded. “But the goal is through these questions is to give those silent thoughts and feelings room to speak.” With a clap, my typewriter appeared on my lap. “Now, are we ready?”
 
My hooves on the keyboard, I asked him to fire away.
 
“So, ask yourself this: What am I anxious about?”
 
Facing my keyboard and knowing very well that I’m about to turn on the light for me and the whole world to see. I’m about to paint my portrait in the most unflattering of lights. So, I let my mind go and give in to let a stream of consciousness flow out onto the page. 
 


failure school Shakespur Equinities disappointment philosophy no future homelessness joblessness death outed sexuality loneliness forgotten never heard voiceless tyranny concentration camp news losing friends time persecution humiliation loss of audience helplessness parents truth Beatles unfinished war cold disease poison mom dad grandparents brother sisters damnation depression no way out environment left out faceless no impression help gone money dependence selfish abandoned


 
“Time’s up.” Discord suddenly said, ripping the page out from the typewriter. Looking over, he hummed in thought. “Fascinating…”
 
“Okay so I did that, now what?”
 
“The next step is to take this and put it through a sieve…” He then took out a sieve out of… hyperspace, I guess and dumped the paper into it. After shaking a bit, not only the letters fell out, but the office changed too. It got darker, bleaker and more ominous with every passing second. “Now, we look through what you’ve written and ask one important question: what is all of this anxiety really about?” He blew bubbles out of his pipe and several of them floated just above me. “Think back to what you’ve written and tell a story of an upcoming anxious event or events in great detail. Confront head on everything that may go wrong with these ideas. Don’t give yourself hope but still find a way how you’ll be okay regardless.”
 
“Well…” I put a hoof to my chin. “I think first off, I’m worried about this semester. I mean, can you blame me? After years and years of taking it slow, I’ve finally gotten the last two classes where I can finally get my associate's degree. The Cultural Anthropology class I’m sure I’ll be okay. But the Shakespur…” I sighed uneasily, “Okay, that one I’m worried about. I admit that now.”
 
I could feel Discord raising an eyebrow. “How come? I thought you didn’t mind the old Bard if he’s taught well.”
 
“Yeah, and he is here. Only… I’m worried about several things like watching films even though I don’t have the money to do so. Or the fact that I’ll have to perform in front of the class.”

“And what’s wrong with that? I thought you did it before a Speech class and you did fine.”
 
“Giving a lecture about classical music is one thing,” I informed him, “but it’s completely different when I have to memorize and act out a monologue from King freaking Lear! The famous storm speech no less! ‘Blow winds and crack your cheeks!’ And the worst part is I can’t change or add anything to it. If I fail this class, or Anthropology then… I’ve already failed Statistics and it cost me. Hugely too this time since I’m so close to graduating now.”
 
“Okay, now picture what that failure would be like.”
 
It didn’t take long. I spotted one of the bubbles floating nearby enacting that fear. I saw my embarrassing blunder in front of a very disappointed teacher. Immediately getting an F, followed by a graduation ceremony in which my name was not called upon, and the disappointed looks of my family. 
 
“But even still,” Discord said, “how would you still be okay without sugarcoating this?”
 
“Well…” I said softly. “I suppose that if the worst comes to worst, I can still do another class again. Sure, I’ll have to jump through hoops like writing an appeal to try to convince whoever to grant my scholarship back. Even if I fail, that doesn’t mean I would just give up like that.”
 
“Good. And the other stuff?”
 
I thought for a moment. “I suppose the future is in question for me. There are so many things that I’m actually afraid of. On a personal level, I’m afraid of being jobless forever, no matter how hard I try to send applications or get degrees from the school. Recently, I figured out that I wanted to teach at a college level but, the stuff I like such as the Equinities and Philosophy… There’s no future in that. There are no hard-paying jobs of teaching a subject nopony wants to attend if it wasn’t a requirement. 
 
“And on the bigger ends of life, there’s a reason why I avoided news like the plague because it’s all saying the same thing every day: Die now! There’s no hope! Being someone that is in the minority, I wouldn’t be shocked if my country turns to dictatorship, willingly. I wouldn’t be shocked if one day I’d be sent to a camp to be worked to death or die. And if that doesn’t happen, I’m afraid that the environment would in one way or another cause an apocalypse that no one is prepared for. Heck, maybe a war or a new black death that could wipe everything in an instant while we’re at it. But you wanna know the worst part of all of that? There’s not a single damn thing that I or anypony could do!”
 
Discord hummed. “Now, look at these and ask, even if they were to happen, how would you be okay?”
 
“I…” I shut my eyes. “I don’t think about it.”
 
“Try.” He said, “If you don’t, these fears will never go away unless you look them in the eye.”
 
It took a good… ten or so minutes to do so. But cracking open an eye, I saw in one of the bubbles me, unemployed and old while my friends already got jobs. And in others, I witness my beloved Equestria turned into something that resembled Germane during the Trozi reign, with uniformed ponies dragging me away to a death camp. In another, I saw infernos of forests, deserts of farms, and cities destroyed by heat, floods, winds, and snow. In another, I saw blood in war without end. And in another, sickness and death. 
 
“Well…” I began. “I could say that in my personal case, even if I wouldn’t be able to find a job, I am on social security because of my disability. And that I still have my family that’s willing to support me as long as I have that drive to be in a job that helps us all.”
 
“And in the stuff the news fears?”
 
“… Seneca.”
 
Although I couldn’t see it, Discord was smiling. “Oh? And what about him?”
 
“There’s a story about him, his death. He was ordered by Emperor Nero to kill himself before his wife and children. And while the family wept bitterly, he on the other hoof slit his wrists in a bathtub calmly. He wasn’t hysterical. If anything, he had expected that something like this would happen. Close to death, he famously said this before he died: ‘What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears.’ I think that, even if the absolute worst thing could happen, when death comes by tyranny, or by nature itself, what else could it do once I’ve passed on? Once I’m dead, what further injury could it inflect when I’m beyond consciousness? It would, in some ways, free me from living a life of misery. If anything, because I have that one power that is beyond any tyrant’s or nature’s control, I could turn my wrists to the sky and declare ‘Freedom!’”
 
“Time out for two milliseconds,” Discord called out, blowing on a coach’s whistle. “Are you advocating thoughtless suicide where everyone should throw themselves off at the first sign of trouble.”
 
“No!” I shouted. “No! NO! NO! That’s not what I meant!”
 
“Oh? So, what are you trying to say? That suicide is fine as long as you have a reason to do so?”
 
“Okay, stop! That’s not what I’m talking about. I am not advocating for ending it all thoughtlessly. Nor am I suggesting that as soon as a crisis comes up that you should pull out the nearest knife. There are a few things that I need to make absolutely clear here. First off, I did try to kill myself once.”
 
The room got deadly quiet, and Discord’s head came into view. “Say what now?”
 
“Look, back when I was a little foal, I was upset by my parents for me being ordered about like a slave doing chores. I hated it. As a little kid, I had thought that this sort of tyranny would go on forever and ever without any stops. At the time, I thought that if I just stopped existing, then that too will stop. Then late at night, I took out the sharpest knife I could find and was going to plunge it into the stomach. Luckily for me, I tried to do it slowly. Turns out, I couldn’t do it, even when I tried to ease into it. That night I learned two important things that many find out only too late: that death is very painful; and that I realized how old I was.”
 
“What does that have to do with not killing yourself?”
 
“Because even as a little foal, I came to this realization, just because mom and dad are being so bossy to the point, I wasn’t much allowed to be a kid, doesn’t mean that it will always be like that forever. I asked myself how long, really, truly, would they keep it up? What if I die just right before things were about to get better? Sure, the sun goes down at night, but that doesn’t mean that it’ll never come back again. Perhaps it’s best to wait, so I put the knife back and went to bed. Now, while I had sometimes thought about ending it all when I was growing up as a teenager, the memory of the lesson I learned never went away and, in some ways, saved me.”
 
Discord sank back into his chair out of view. “And the other?”
 
“Seneca once said that ‘The wise will live as long as they ought, not as long as they can. They always reflect, concerning the quality of their lives, not the quantity. As soon as numerous events in their life give them trouble and disturb their peace of mind, they have the option of setting themselves free. And this privilege is theirs, not only when the crisis is upon them, but as soon as fortune seems to be maltreating them. The wise will look about carefully and judge whether or not they ought or ought not to end their life on that account. They’ll hold that it makes no difference to them if taking off should be natural or self-inflicted. They don’t regard it with fear as if it were a great loss, for no one can lose very much when but a driblet remains. It’s not a question of dying earlier or later, but of dying well or ill. And dying well means an escape from the danger of living ill.’ In other words, even the philosopher wasn’t advocating of random or thoughtless exits, rather he was trying to give all of us courage in the face of anxiety to remind us that we have a power within us to rationally choose a noble path. 
 
“With me, I am not suicidal, let’s make that clear. I know how blessed I am, and I know perfectly well that I do have others that care about me. Even if I was, I won’t be satisfied by the ‘They’ll grieve for a bit, but they’ll get over it’ crap. If I die purposely by my hooves, they’ll never forgive me for it, even if I had a good reason. All I’m saying is that if I knew that there was truly, absolutely, no way that a situation is surviveable or that my captors are planning on torturing me, and intend to keep me in that state till I die, then I won’t give them that satisfaction.”
 
“Moving on,” Discord said, “What about the other things you’ve mentioned?”
 
“Well…” I became quiet for a long time. “My family still doesn’t know that I’m gay. And like that one story I wrote, I have no idea if my family would be… okay with it. Sure, a good chunk of my audience and my friends know and don’t care about it. But to my family? The ones that control the food, the shelter, and money? If they’re so disgusted by me just being there that they kick me out onto the streets… where would I go? Where would I turn for shelter? How would I get around? How would I get food? How would I get ahold of the money that a good portion of it is in my mother’s control? Then again, even if they were okay…” I sighed, sadly and deeply, “I wouldn’t be able to find love.”
 
This caught Discord by surprise. “What? Why would you say that?”
 
“I’m only stating the facts. Even if everyone is okay with it, I live in a town where I highly doubt there would be a significant part of the population where… Oh I don’t know, is male, has an attraction to the same sex, is roughly my age, isn’t boring or too crazy, that doesn’t drink or do harmful drugs, is smart, funny, won’t hurt me, doesn’t have a criminal record, has good taste in food, I can go on. But the point is that I have come to the conclusion a long time ago that I have just as much chance of finding a coltfriend than I do walking on the moon.”
 
“Yet, even with all of these things, how would you still be okay?”
 
“I… I suppose we do have homeless shelters here in town. If the worst comes to worst, I can always walk over there and… then figure out how to get those basic necessities. Besides, I still have my friends, although few they may be. Perhaps they could help me back as I have helped them. Besides, if my family did kick me out because I’m gay, I would rather live with them, the ponies that see me as… well… a pony. And besides, even if I believe that finding a coltfriend is impossible, as long as I still have those friends, I’ll be alright.”
 
“Good, good.” I heard Discord jotting something down on that clipboard. “But I believe there’s one area that you’re leaving out, is there?”
 
I nodded. “My audience. The readers. Discord, I’m not going to lie, I do appreciate the audience that I’ve built over the years. When I started, I didn’t think I was worth being listened to. For a long time, I wanted to be an author, a storyteller that would inspire ponies far and wide. That I would put down intriguing ideas, fantastic characters, and stories that others would engage in. But given my disabilities, my lack of speaking clearly all the time, my poor writing skills, and the fact that I still have no clue how to publish a book into print… For a while, I gave up. 
 
“But then, I found them. Slowly at first, I earned the attention of so many from across the world. Yet, the more stories I’ve worked on, there was a growing concern that I wouldn’t be able to finish some of those stories I’ve started. And I don’t want to be that guy. I want to be the sort of pony that once he does something, he finishes it. But now… With The Beatle, The Lioness and The Unicorn, the Inverno Sequel, just to name a few that haven’t been touched in months… At times… I wonder. You know?”
 
“Care to elaborate?”
 
“I mean… What if in the end, I disappoint them? It’s really stupid, I know, but I can’t help but think that after all these years of not having that voice, of being faceless, of being invisible, that nopony wants to listen to what I have to say, of not having an impact on anyone… What if I’m condemned forever, even when I do have an audience, to end up being… forgotten? Forever. And if I fail them… What then? What purpose do I have left in life? A storyteller is nothing without an audience after all. As much as I’ve grown to appreciate them, trust in their constructive criticism, and humbly appreciate their compliments… What do I do when they go away?”
 
Discord didn’t say anything at first. “But even here, how would you still be okay?”
 
I breathed in deeply. “If… When they go… And I’m not able to publish a word, all I can do is try to learn something truly difficult.”
 
“And what’s that?”
 
“That the only audience I still need to please… is myself. That I should still continue to write good things. In the beginning, I never expected to gain so much as a following. I have to remember that between writing for popularity and writing stories that are good, I must always choose the latter because while popularity fades, the good stuff has always had something to come back to. I won’t lie in saying that it’s hard to think otherwise that now I do have an audience that it isn’t hard to prepare myself when I may not have it. For it is. I’m not ready yet, but I still must be ready.”
 
“Good, that covers the first bit.” Discord said, a snap later and there’s a fresh sheet of paper in the typewriter. “Now to answer the next question to ask yourself: Who am I upset with and why?”
 
Facing the blank page, I lifted my hooves over the keys and, once again, let my consciousness type. 
 


Jannat – betraying my trust. Brother – getting angry at things that shouldn’t be angry over and at times being oblivious to others. Mom – more butler than a son. Shakespur teacher – turning me into an idiot. The lady from Upper Valley – never saw me as an adult. Editors who said they would edit before suddenly stopping. Dad – for continuously asking me to do things right in the middle of writing/studying.


 
“And time’s up.” Discord ripped out the page from the typewriter and hummed. “Now this is interesting.”
 
“What? That it’s shorter?”
 
“That, and your ire is targeted at seven individuals for oddly specific reasons.”
 
“Hey, you asked me who I’m upset with and why.”
 
“Yes, but let’s take a closer look at these, shall we? Now I want you to retell all the upsetting incidences you’ve faced, in detail, but towards a friend that’s extremely kind, interested and patient.”
 
“What? Like you?”
 
“No,” he whistled, “him.”
 
Looking around at the office, I didn’t know what he was talking about until I heard the tapping of glass that was coming from above me. It was then that I spotted that in the reproductions of an Ancient Pegasi fresco, was my best friend, Artie. A Pegasus that had a coat that was a couple of shades lighter than mine, a curly blond mane and beard, and a cutie mark that I instantly recognized to be his – a pallet of every primary and secondary colors with a crossing paintbrush and pencil underneath. The drawing of my friend waved at me.
 
“Hey Brony,” he waved at me, “are you doing alright?”
 
“Artie?”
 
“Eh… kinda.” He said, “I’m more of that extremely kind, interested and patient friend that Discord here thought would make it easier to talk to.”
 
“That sounds a little on the nose, isn’t it?”
 
“Hey, truth in advertisement and what have ya. Now come on, what’s wrong?”
 
‘I’m really doing this,’ I thought, ‘I’m gonna talk to a drawing of my best friend. Then again, Discord is here, so this should be a Thursday to him.’ So laying back down I looked up at the drawing. “Well… The truth is that it may not look like it, but I guess I’m still… upset by a few things.”
 
“You are? Why?”
 
“Well… Where do I start? You remember Jannat – let’s just call her that. That young lady that volunteered to voice one of my characters for an audiobook?”
 
“Eh… kinda, not really.”
 
“Okay well… to make a very long story short, she got depressed at one point to where she not only turned suicidal but got all of us involved too.”
 
“In what way?”
 
“By trying to talk her out of killing herself. I remember one day that the narrator of the story we’re doing called me up in a panic saying that she has made up her mind to end it all and wouldn’t listen to anyone except for us. Looking back, I guess it made sense as, at the time, I was more or less the therapist for the group. In short, I did manage to talk her down from it and let go of the rope. Now, you would think that at this point that her friends and family that were near to her would – oh, I don’t know – get her some help. And for a while, it looks like that was what was happening.
 
“Eventually she got ahold of a therapist called Sage, now the reason why she asked for us is to create a sort of failsafe that, if we got ahold that Jannat was gonna do that again, then we could inform her of what’s going on so she could rush over and save her. And the thing was, her suicide attempts got a little more frequently because she tried to kill herself every two weeks or so. We would try to have her keep talking while Sage would rush over to make sure things are alright.”
 
“That sounds really stressful, dude.” The copy of my friend in the picture said. 
 
“Oh, that’s nothing. Then one day she told us that now this bully’s not only stalking her, but attempted to foalnap her, and then, one very stressful day, we got word that Sage was suddenly disappeared. Jannat told us that she was being held for ransom and if she doesn’t comply by going with ‘em, then they’ll kill Sage. We told her not to give in and… well, they killed Sage.”
 
“Holy crap!”
 
I shook my head. “But, do you wanna know something? The day after, I started to investigate by looking into the local newspapers of that area where she lived. One would think that maybe Jannat or her family would have called the police and the very least report Sage missing or maybe get their assistance from someone so hostile. And do you know what I found?”
 
He shook his head.
 
“Nothing. There wasn’t a single report about it anywhere. Well, I thought that, well, maybe it’s because they don’t have any significant evidence or something. But a week later, Jannat called in a panic saying that she was home alone with her friend when the house got broken in. And although while she escaped, her friend wasn’t so lucky and was murdered there in the house. Now I thought that there’s no possible way to kill some pony and not pick up any evidence such as blood or broken stuff or… something. So, I tried to look into it for a good two weeks, and did you know what I found? Nothing! 
 
“But then, several weeks later, she got me and the narrator together and told us the truth – that she lied and asked for our forgiveness. And for many out there, they would have been angry and wouldn’t be so forgiving, after we have been lied to twice. However, as a guy that does believe in second chances, I did forgive her.
 
“However, from there, her attempts at suicide increased to the point where it was a daily occurrence. Every evening I was in dread that maybe, this would be the night where she would go away for good. But the longer this went on, the more I couldn’t help but think how neglectful her friends and family are over there. I mean, if I did anything remotely what she has done, my parents would send me straight to rehab, no questions asked! And the next morning when we were checking up on her, she said that she’ll be fine and she really needs to get to school – as if nothing has ever happened!
 
“Then one night, while I was out with the guys, I got word that she had recently escaped from a foalnapping, that she is trying to head back home by train and she’s really tired. It was stressful several hours, but eventually, she did return home. But, guess what happened not too long after that?”
 
“She called up to say that she lied?”
 
“Bingo! And you know what, while I have forgiven her, she had officially crossed my three-strike rule. At this point, I could not trust her enough to so much as talk to her.”
 
“So that’s the end of it, right?”
 
“Oh, if only that were so easy. You see, while I did cut her off, she also happened to be part of a few groups that I and the narrator were in. The kind where we get together and try to make audiobooks. Well, one night, after saying that she wasn’t going to try to be suicidal anymore, she sent a picture in the group of her swallowing a hoofful of pills. That, royally ticked me off.”
 
“Why? Because she was doing it again?”
 
“That, and I caught her in another lie.”
 
“Really? Which was what?”
 
“That she said at one point that she had a hard time swallowing pills, she, in fact, said she didn’t like doing it because of a gag reflex or something. Yet, there she was, swallowing an entire hoofful without so much as a glass of water. Oh… I was furious that night that, while we did talk her down and her family got her to safety, I was so angry that I had to walk away from the group entirely.
 
“But the thing is…” I sighed, “while as much as I don’t talk to her anymore, sometimes, I still check up on her to see if she’s still around. Yeah, I know I shouldn’t, but the thing is that when I first met her through those letters, she didn’t seem at all the manipulative type. She was still in high school who was, overall, a nice enough person. She wasn’t what I would call evil. And yet… She lied. For whatever reason be it her mental state or whatever, she lied to us. I still remember the panic she induced on us, how we, including myself, tried every argument we could think of to convince her that life was worth living for. Who knows, maybe she had Schizophrenia or something, but the fact that she dragged strangers into a state of dread day in and day out, continuously worried, continuously scared for her safety? I just…”
 
I fell quiet for a while. “Do you think that maybe… I did the right thing of letting her go? While a part of me is still upset over the lies, the manipulation, and sending the narrator into a series of panic attacks… Am I still checking up on her from time to time because of how much I realized that I’m a monster of sorts?”
 
The drawing of Artie shook his head. “I don’t know, and probably not. I mean, you’re not a therapist, and as far as I know, you never had to deal with anypony who was suicidal before. And maybe the fact that you check up on her probably means that on some level, you think that she’s not entirely evil.”
 
“I’m sorry, but did you miss the part where she manipulated and lied to us several times, over something so serious and yet she hardly did anything during that time?”
 
“Yes, I’ve heard from you. But let me ask you a few things: How would you feel if I had ended up doing what she had done to you?”
 
“Well I… That is different.”
 
“In what way?”
 
“Dude, unlike her, you live in the same town as I am. If I had heard that you were being suicidal, if you let me know what you’re gonna kill yourself and don’t bother stopping you, you can forget it because I would be the first to drop everything and gallop as quick as I can to keep you alive because… That’s how much you mean to me. And I wouldn’t care if you protested how much your life sucked, I would, out of our friendship, drag you to rehab or a mental hospital for your own good.”
 
“Okay, and did you think that she did what she did just to be mean?”
 
“I…” I slumped into the couch. “Honestly, I may never know. During the whole fiasco, I had started to suspect that maybe she had some mental illness like my mom’s dad did. He was Schizophrenic and what she did kinda sounded familiar. So, I looked up the common symptoms and yep! They were almost beat for beat similar. Chances are, all of those things really did happen in her head and couldn’t tell from a hallucination from reality. But I sometimes wondered that even if she did have something like that, was it really right for her to drag us into it? When none of us know what to do?”
 
“Cracked,” the drawing of Artie said, “if this happened to me too, what advice would you give me?”
 
“Well… I would, maybe with help from dad, advise you to go see a therapist who can prescribe something. Maybe pills, maybe psychotherapy, and to remind you that as I’m not so well experienced in mental illness, I don’t know how else to help you. I mean, sure, there is plenty of stuff that I carry, but the last thing I would want is to burden anyone with it.”
 
“I guess that’s fair.” The drawing nodded. “What about your family? Your younger brother, mom, and dad? Why are you so upset with them?”
 
“Look, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate any of them outright. There’s just some… things that really get under my skin.”
 
“Like what?”
 
“For example, my parents, as much as I love them and am loyal to them, there are things they do that irritate me. In some ways, ever since I’m able to move around more, I’m pretty much their errand colt. Not just picking up groceries, but at any moment, one of them would call me up and ask me to run or go with them to do something that would take several hours to accomplish. It doesn’t matter for either of them what I was doing, I may be studying up for a big exam for tomorrow and I could be called up to help move a bunch of props or deliver documents around that would take out a good several hours of what little study time I have. On some days, I often think that I’m more of their butler, an employee than their son.
 
“And my little brother? Look, I know he has to take his medication so he wouldn’t get so easily trigger happy but when it does happen… On the one hoof, it gets so ridiculous as to over what he gets upset about. For us, it would come out completely out of the blue. We could ask him to load the dishes into the dishwasher and he would just go off for almost an hour. And on the other, as weird as it sounds, whenever I see him get angry, I have to try to hold myself back from not screaming at him back. Especially the things he would say that would get any of us upset. You could try to reason with him, but it only makes it worse.”
 
The drawing nodded. “Why do I have a feeling that your folks aren’t always easy to live with?”
 
“Well… I guess it depends on what’s going on each day, you know? There are days that they’re alright and what they ask of me is reasonable. And others… not so much.”
 
“Okay, so how would you think if I had ended up doing what they’re doing to you?”
 
I paused for a long moment. “Alright, to be fair, I’m not stupid of what my parents had gone through. Both of them had to work hard to get where they have gotten. Dad had undergone several job changes, and mom? She said so herself that she has been brought up to work, get things done right there and then, and no matter how long it takes you to finish it.”
 
“Sounds like a guy I know.” 
 
“And my brother…” I sighed, “As much as he annoys me, I can’t entirely hold any of that stuff against him. To be fair, we aren’t necessarily close. I don’t talk to him much, which I shouldn’t hold him in the account for asking stupid questions because I don’t communicate with him often, to begin with. And for his anger… Well, he has been working a lot as a student and his new job of being a moving guy. Perhaps he’s undergoing a good deal of stress and just scolding him for being angry isn’t helping much.”
 
“So, I take it that you don’t think that they did what they did just to be mean?”
 
I shook my head. “Unlike… you-know-who, they’re not doing any of this stuff just because. They’re juggling jobs and of course, they need help or aren’t fully aware of what the other is doing all the time. Sometimes I barely keep track of what year it is.”
 
“Now if this happened to me, what advice would you give me?”
 
“Honestly… I have no idea.”
 
“Okay, and the others? The Shakespur teacher, the lady from Upper Valley, and the Editors that drop out?”
 
“Well to put it short, Artie, the teacher because that as much as I try to contribute to the class, I’m starting to get the sense that he might think of me like an idiot as if he’s expecting me to already know some of this stuff. Plus, it doesn’t help that he prefers to lecture instead of asking us for some input… At the same time, I know there’s a part of me that says that’s not necessarily true, but that’s how I feel about it for the moment.
 
“That lady from Upper Valley? The thing is that while I don’t go to that Adult Developmental Center anymore, that one staff member to this day still gets under my skin.”
 
“How come?”
 
“I think it’s because, during the time I was there, I had one of these goals in which I’m supposed to keep track of a budget. I had this little notebook where I write down the receipts so I can figure out how much I have. Now, I would look through the receipts and do the math, then she would check my calculations. If she found that my total added up to hers, she would tell me I've done a good job and she goes away. However, if I made a mistake somewhere, then she would give me a good ten-minute-long lecture on how I should be more careful with my money. Now, this may not be so bad if she did this once, but no! This happened every, single, time, I, made, a, mistake. I mean, what’s her deal? I overlooked carrying the two and then she goes on at me like I was a five-year-old. And she knew perfectly well that I’m in college! I’m convinced that she does that simply because she happens to know I have a few mental disabilities that she thinks I’m stupid.”
 
“And the Editors?”
 
“Well… you see, since I have a very limited budget, I can’t exactly pay anyone to be my editor for my stories. Which is why I rely on my readers. You see, nearly everything from the editing to sometimes the artwork is purely volunteer work. I figured that it’s best if they come to me to do this, simply because I know that they’re doing this because they wanted to. However, I have lost track of how many times that some editors (not all of them mind you) would work on a few chapters here and there before suddenly dropping out entirely without any warning. It’s so disheartening to have them just ghost me without so much as giving me a ‘Hey, due to some difficulties, I can’t do this right now so I gotta sort this out.’ Now… I’m not entirely ignorant that those editors have lives of their own. As a college student, I completely understand that some things take up priority. I get that. However, to just suddenly disappear without giving me some notice… it does get to me.”
 
“I see, but do you think they’re doing all this stuff just to be mean?”
 
“Well… I guess not.” I slumped back further into the couch. “I suppose the teacher probably didn’t want to come up as a bit… stand-off-ish. The lady probably held on to some faulty assumptions about me (to be fair, most of the clients at that Developmental Center weren’t as high functioning as I am). And the Editors… Again, I can’t hold it against them as they have no reason to stay committed to my works as they do have lives of their own.
 
“Now, can we move on to the last question you have, Dr. Discord Freud?”
 
“Oh, very well,” Discord said. “For this next bit, call on your mind of all the thoughts that are related to ambition or excitement. This can include positive emotions which include smidges of interest, whispers of enthusiasm or the like that drive around that highway of your pre-consciousness. 
 
“Now, the question is this: what are you currently feeling excited, envious, or desire for?”
 
Assuming that this is going to have to be something like the last few methods, I turned to my typewriter with a fresh new page. Letting myself relax at its keys and type out what has captured my interest.
 


Thorax story. TheVClaw. East Coast. The Beatles Albums. Graduation. Bedroom. Artie. Finishing stories. Home. Independence. Art. New painting. Teacher.


 
“Time’s up.” Discord took hold of the paper from the typewriter. I looked over in time to see an eyebrow raised. “These are some oddly specific things.”
 
“Well yeah? So?”
 
“I mean, these are some very specific things.” He said, an elastic arm stretching out for the windows and pulling a cord, opened the blinds to let some light in. “Starting with this one: Thorax story? What’s that about?”
 
“Oh!” I rolled off the couch. “Well, recently a certain writer had suggested a story months ago, and I’m thinking of turning it into a comedic one-shot. I won’t give away what it’s about here, but needless to say, I’m looking forward to doing it.”
 
“But, what about me?” Discord asked, looking puppy-eyed pitiful.
 
“Don’t worry, I’m close to finishing the Philosophy series with Fluttershy. I just think that I may need a short break before finishing it.”
 
“Well if you say so. And something about the East Coast?”
 
“My dad is thinking about having us go on a big trip, but I don’t know where exactly. Filliladelphia or Manehattan? If it does happen, I really would love to go there to see what it's like over there.”
 
“And I suppose the ‘Finishing stories’ bit has something to do with what you hope to accomplish with your writings?” I nodded. “But the other stuff, however, peaks my interests. Come to the window and tell me more about them.” So I did, “TheVClaw, are we talking about the writer?”
 
I nodded. “The thing is that, while I have talked to him, and that I admire his comedy stories, as well as glad for him of finding independence with his coltfriend… The thing is that I’m… a bit envious of him.”
 
“In what way?”
 
Before I could speak, there in the window I spotted the green author, asleep in bed, snoring. “Well…” I explained to him, “I don’t have anything against him as a writer, nor the fact that he’s in a relationship that sounds happy. It’s just that this guy has gained not just more followers than what I have, but also that he’s in the process of publishing a book. An actual book in print! Honestly, I don’t know how to do any of that and I’m sure that he has enough of an audience to demand to own a copy of his book. Plus, writing for comedy or drama, this guy is a genius. The Moztrot of literature in my eyes that…”
 
“You feel like compared to him, you’re Salieri.” 
 
“At least I don’t want to murder him but… yeah, I feel envious towards what he has accomplished and is about to accomplish.”
 
“So you’re envious that he has more followers, has fantastic writing skills, and he’s about to publish a book?” I nodded. “Well, that’s a great start to dive into.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“If you have to change your life in certain ways,” he inquired, clipboard in his tail, “what would you think he would have to say to you in light of this?” 
 
“I don’t know… He probably would say that my view is out of proportion. But… Maybe he would tell me not to worry so much about the popularity or my writing. That getting a book to publish is all a matter of research or something of the like.”
 
“Good.” He nodded, scribbling something down. “And what’s this about albums from The Beatles?”
 
“That’s easy. I’ve recently gained an appreciation for their music so I’m hoping that I would be able to collect their albums to add on to my music collection. At least, get the good stuff.”
 
“Ah-huh. And Graduation?”
 
“I’m about to get my associates in May.”
 
“And what about the Bedroom?”
 
“Well… It slowly dawned on me that I may want to change up my room a little. That if I had enough money, I would make it nicer and more to my tastes.”
 
“Which are?”
 
“A new ceiling fan, for one. A tiffany glass lamp by the bed. A black, wooden rocking chair for the desk. Some new bookshelves to store all the books I’ve collected over the years. And maybe the room could use some new paint for the walls.”
 
“Interesting… So if this new room could talk, what do you think it would say about you?”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“The thing about a bedroom is that it’s supposed to be a room that reflects you. Right?” I nodded. The windows suddenly changed to where we peer into my room. Only, it’s different. The black but elegant furniture was still there, along with the desk, bed, and books. Except, this room resembled more of a Victorian study. One where there are bookshelves that go from floor to ceiling, light fixtures that wouldn’t seem out of place a good century or so ago, and old fashion furniture. “To me, it would be the ideal room for a great-great-grandpa.” Discord commented. 
 
I laughed. “Yeah, I can see that but… What can I say? I’m an old soul.”
 
“In what way?”
 
“Well, I tend to favor older things. Antiques, classic books, music that predates the seventies… Of course, I do like some modern stuff, but the thing with me is that I never grew up playing mindless video games or watching shows that were outside from the media we were fed with. I’ve always known that I’m the odd kid for liking such stuff, but somehow, in some way, having a room that looks like this feels like… home.”
 
“Alright,” he looked at his clipboard. “And what about your best friend, Artie? Are you envious or is there something excited surrounding him?”
 
“Well… I guess you could say that now I’m a little envious.”
 
“In what way?” The window now changed to that of a spacious, yet messy bedroom. And there in the corner with an artist’s desk was my best friend, drawing away. 
 
“Well, he did something that at the moment, I couldn’t do. He moved out. And I say that considering the constricting place that was his mother’s – as well as the lack of privacy that was his brother’s, he recently ended up at a group home. Sure, he has restrictions here as well, but he’s more independent here than ever before.”
 
“Okay, so why do you want that he has?”
 
I shrugged. “Independence. A small place that I could call home. I know what stands in the way of that becoming a reality. The truth is that while I’m okay financially, it’s not quite enough yet for me to get an apartment somewhere and move out on my own. I’m still a student that doesn’t have a job that is secured yet. Of course, I don’t know how much I would need to live on my own, but I figured that once I get a degree that’s at least a Bachelors's, I will find that job. With it comes financial support, and from there, independence.”
 
“So what about the last three things? Art. New painting.” 
 
“And teacher? Well, something tells me that my paintings may have given me a clue about what career to pursue.”
 
The window changed again, and in a classroom, there is me walking and talking to other students about their paintings. 
 
“You want to be an art teacher?” Discord asked.
 
“Well… It’s still all up in the air at this point, but recently, while the Equinities may not have that many opportunities for a stable income, perhaps teaching in the field of art might be my best option so far. I mean sure, I may self-taught when it comes to painting, but if I were to accomplish that, I would need an art class. Probably several! But given what skills I have thought, maybe this has some sort of promise for me in the future.”
 
“That is if something happens to change that.”

I nodded. “True, as I said, this is still up in the air once I get my associates. But I do have faith that going to these classes might be the key to my future.”
 
“Well, well…” Discord hummed as he looked at his clipboard. “It looks like you have a better grasp on what makes you excited than the other two. By the looks of it, you’ve taken your first steps and,” he pulled out a pocket watch. “It looks like our time is up, Mr. Inkwell.”
 
The office melted away back into my orange bedroom. While the classical artifacts faded away, so too did Discord’s outfit.
 
“So, what was the point in doing all of that?” I asked him. “If this was meant to be a sort of therapy, I doubt that it did much.”
 
“And you would be correct.” He nodded, floated over to me. “But by answering these three questions, you’ve started to unscramble those confusing thoughts that tended to be clogged up. Sure, doing this meditation doesn’t solve your problems, but now, your problems have a name and a cause. Because you can now identify them more easily, you can now start to figure out where to go from here. Tell me, how do you feel?”
 
“I’m…” I blinked. “Calm, as if there’s been a weight that I didn’t think was there and is gone now.”
 
“The trick with this is to do this often. Now I prescribe you do this at least once a week and don’t slack off because otherwise, you’ll have much to clean out.”
 
“Okay, but how does doing all of that getting me to know better about-”
 
“Think about it. You’ve spent a good deal of time looking at yourself in a light that nobody would want to look at. You did something that a good chunk of the population wouldn’t do.”
 
“Really? What’s that?”
 
“Get to know yourself a little better.” He said before he started falling through the floor.
 
“Hey! Where are you going?”
 
“I have other lessons to teach! Duh!” He told me before his head and horns disappeared completely through the hardwood.
 
Now left alone, I sat on the bed. ‘Huh,’ I thought. ‘You know, doing that, it wasn’t so scary. Maybe… all this time I didn’t have anything to be afraid of. For there’s nothing in the dark.’ 
 
I turned to my typewriter, still on the bed and the page was still blank. 
 
“Welp,” I told myself, lying on the bed and setting the machine on my lap, “the show must go on.” 
 
I started typing.





Several Years Later...