> Gingerbread House of Cards
>  by clppy605
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I still don’t see why Ponyville lets this thing stay up.”

The blistering summer sun hung high in the sky as it relentlessly bore down on the traveling stage magician, Trixie. The Great and Powerful Trixie, she’d quickly remind you, was not a fan of humidity or summer as a season. She made sure her usual travel route avoided backwater villages like Ponyville during the hottest time of the year. Specifically, Trixie toured along Equestria’s north-western coast, near Vanhoover. There, the weather wasn't as bad this time of year. In the region's bigger settlements, Trixie could avoid the diabolical sun by hiding inside any air-conditioned buildings. But in Ponyville? All she could do was appreciate the wide brim of her hat and cape.

“Why’s that? Sugarcube Corner is one of Ponyville’s highlights. It’s practically a tourist stop on its own!”

Unfortunately for Trixie, she was stuck in Ponyville. The only reason she came to Ponyville in the middle of this heatwave was to see Starlight Glimmer, her best friend. While on the road between shows, Starlight sent her a letter via dragonfire candle; a pair of magical artifacts that could send letters between each other. A neat gift from Starlight that kept the two of them in contact, but Trixie wondered how her friend ended up with them. Nevertheless, according to the letter, Starlight picked up a new job with some fancy new school in Ponyville. She was likely going to be very busy after the first semester began in the fall. And so, both Starlight and Trixie aimed to spend at least a little time together before that happened.

Like the great and supportive friend she was, Trixie detoured through the sweltering heat crippling the countryside to Ponyville. Starlight happened to be waiting on the outskirts of town when Trixie arrived, trying to enjoy the sweeping breeze outside of town while flying a kite. Unlike most larger cities, Ponyville lacked any specific laws related to incoming wagons. For Trixie, this meant she could unhitch her wagon wherever she wanted. With Starlight’s help, Trixie unloaded her cart in the towering shadow of the Castle of Friendship. Once freed from the burden of pulling around Trixie’s mobile home, the pair of unicorns meandered through town. The two chatted and caught up on each other’s lives since they last saw each other. Eventually, their walk brought them to Ponyville’s most famous bakery, Sugarcube Corner.

“Starlight,” Trixie droned and gave her friend the most unamused stare she could muster, “I'm getting a cavity just looking at it.”

“Oh come on,” Starlight laughed off Trixie’s concerns with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “It’s not that bad. Besides, they’re doing a special on ice cream cakes because of the weather. How about it? My treat.”

The prospect of ice cream did perk up Trixie, as did getting indoors and away from direct sunlight. She only wished it didn’t involve going into the eyesore that stood before her.

Everything about the building bothered her. The uneven windows and foundation gave the structure an odd, asymmetrical look that seemed ready to topple over on itself at any moment. The gingerbread-like walls and roofing, coupled with the frosting-inspired trim, gave the structure a festive motif. The only issue with such a vibe was that it was the middle of summer and not winter. The architecture of the bakery was one thing – it was ugly – but those issues could be salvaged through landscaping and decorations. In Trixie’s opinion, it was not. Proudly displayed on the roof was a weathervane shaped like a pony holding a candy cane. On its own, Trixie would have considered that somewhat cute, if a little unusual for a bakery. Sadly the pièce de résistance to Trixie’s disdain overpowered any positives she could find. Sat atop a tower, rising into the sky from the center of the roof, was a cupcake. The building, quite literally, looked like it was pulled out of a foals storybook.

But, the promise of food – free food – was enough of an incentive to ignore her issues with the building's exterior. Trixie grumbled and nodded in agreement with Starlight’s suggestion; Trixie did her best to ignore her friend’s amused chuckle.

To Trixie’s surprise, the interior was far more normal than she expected based on the outside. In fact, she’d go so far as to call it drab. The earthy beige and brown walls and trim were only broken up by the occasional splash of lusterless purple-painted accents behind the counter. The pastries on display made up most of the color in the storefront. Emphasis on most.

Behind the counter was the mess of a bubblegum pink mane. The mare underneath was equally vibrant, both in the color of her coat and personality. Her ears perked at the sound of the bell above the front door, and her smile widened when she saw who entered the shop.

“Heyya Starlight, Trixie! You two here to try my new double seven-layer ice cream cake?” Pinkie Pie’s voice bubbled with excitement as she pulled a towering confection that stood nearly twice as tall as a pony from the kitchen. Each tier was stark white and lacked any of Pinkie’s usual decorative flare. “Seven tiers of ice cream cake with seven different layers of flavor in each!”

Starlight and Trixie glanced at one another, both uncertain at the thought of eating a cake that large. Trixie shook her head, silently pleading for her friend to say no. Picking up on the hint, Starlight cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck.

“We’ll have to try that another time, Pinkie.” Both Starlight and Trixie hoped the diplomatic answer would smooth over any qualms Pinkie had. “We just stopped by for a quick bite to eat. So if you still have any of those ice cream cakes on sale–”

“Nope!” The constant blissful joy Pinkie radiated was starting to get on Trixie’s nerves. How anypony could handle that much energy at all times was maddening to her. “Those all sold out earlier. I used all the leftover ingredients to make this!”

“Oh. Well, in that case,” the disappointment in Starlight’s tone was crystal clear, but she pressed on and scanned the specials described on a blackboard, “I guess we’ll take–”

“Sorry, Starlight. But this cake has gotta go. Ice cream melts, you know? The two of you came in here looking for an ice cream cake, and I won’t let you both leave here without an ice cream cake. And this is the only one we have!” Despite the warm, humid air, a cold feeling of dread washed over Trixie and Starlight.

In the blink of an eye, Pinkie plopped the massive cake onto a pan and delivered it to one of the bakery’s few dine-in seating areas. Even with the sun scorching Ponyville outside, Sugarcube Corner was devoid of life. Trixie rationalized that most ponies were avoiding Pinkie’s mountainous dish and aggressive sales pitch. At the moment, she wished she was one of them.

Trixie glanced at Starlight and noted the nervous smile plastered across her face. Between the two of them, Starlight was the one that knew how to deal with this hyperactive pony. If she couldn't devise a way out gorging themselves on this monstrous cake, then at least Trixie could take solace while suffering through this with a friend. Trixie flicked her attention towards the cake, eyeing it. An idea slowly came to life as she stared at the confection. Trixie cleared her throat and rubbed her nose to wipe away any traces of her wry smile. Both Starlight and Pinkie turned their attention toward the showmare. 

“Normally the Great and Powerful Trixie wouldn’t indulge herself on something so plain,” Trixie proclaimed, now wearing her confident stage swagger. She flamboyantly threw her head back and placed a hoof over her heart. “But if you insist, then Trixie and her Great and Powerful Assistant will dine on your creation.”

“We will?”

“Well duh. Of course, it’s plain,” Pinkie giggled, entirely ignoring Starlight’s worried question. Trixie raised an eyebrow at that reply, but Pinkie waved off the look directed towards her. “That’s the whole point. It’s not about what’s on the outside; it’s about what’s on the inside.”

Trixie scoffed as she sat down at the table and lit her horn. A knife, bathed in the light blue of her magic, subsequently lifted into the air and dug into the cake.

“That’s stupid. That’s the opposite of this bakery’s branding, from what I’ve seen,” Trixie casually mentioned as she delicately measured the size of the slice she wanted to take. Her voice raised an octave as she mimicked another pony while dramatically waving her hoof around the room, “‘I have a great idea! Let’s open a bakery! The outside can be a colorful and inviting giant gingerbread house! Oh, but I don’t want it to be harsh on the eyes inside. I got it, beige!’”

Pinkie’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks as she sharply inhaled.

“Trixie!” Starlight gasped as her eyes threatened to pop out of her head. “That’s a horrible thing to say!” Hidden beneath Starlight’s unamused accusation, Pinkie repeatedly muttered to herself under her breath. Neither unicorn heard a sound as they continued to verbally quarrel with each other.

“What?” Trixie mused while inspecting her slice of cake. She eyed the various differently colored layers with interest. “It’s true.”

Pinkie’s whole body quaked, growing more intense with every passing second. Neither Starlight nor Trixie noticed the sound of Pinkie’s hooves clicking against the wooden floor. Trixie was too enamored with her slice of cake. Starlight’s own steps drowned out any chance of Pinkie’s personal earthquake being noticed. 

“It’s rude!” Starlight quipped as she approached the cake and cut a slice of her own, glaring at Trixie all the while. Seeing her friend join her at the table, Trixie smirked. This was going exactly as she hoped it would. By now, Pinkie’s shaking had evolved to the point where she was essentially pogoing in place. Each hop threatened to bash her head into the low-hanging ceiling. 

“I thought being honest with each other was something friends do,” Trixie waggled a fork at Starlight before flicking it in the direction of Pinkie. “Besides, she hasn't said anything to disagree with what I said. I believe that is a win for team Trixie."

Starlight, finally taking notice of the vibrating pink blur, took a step back in concern. Her head tracked the bouncing mare, hypnotizing her with the rhythm. Starlight shook her head, freeing her from her trance, and took a hesitant step forward. She paused and waited for an opportunity to hold down her friend. A further few steps forward and Starlight tried to place her front hooves on both of Pinkie’s shoulders to keep her in place.

“Pinkie? Are you–” Pinkie’s shaking ceased as she grabbed Starlight’s head with her forehooves, pressing their faces together. Starlight pulled back but found Pinkie’s grip firmly kept them together. Worried she might accidentally strike Pinkie with her horn – and afraid of whatever Pinkie planned to do – Starlight channeled her magic, ready to teleport out of the mare’s reach. She never had the chance to use it.

Pinkie screamed in Starlight's face.

“Giant. Gingerbread. House.” Pinkie released Starlight and darted out the front door like a bolt of lightning. Starlight fell to the floor with a yelp as the soft splat of her cake slice, colliding with the ground, followed her cry. 

Groaning, Starlight pulled herself up and tracked the dust cloud fading into the distance. A few passing by ponies leaned into the bakery, shrugged at the scene, and returned to their normal lives. She wasn’t sure how, but Starlight knew this day was about to get more complicated for somepony. She just hoped it wasn’t her.

Trixie made a half-interested sound of acknowledgment, and Starlight twisted her head around to eye her friend. With her mouth half-open, about to take a bite of her cake, Trixie was frozen in place, watching the door. This wasn’t exactly the plan she had in mind, but it worked out all the same. Mostly.

“Was it something I said?” Trixie innocently questioned.





Ponyville was an old town. Much of the land in and around Ponyville had long since been claimed and fell under the banner of one pony or another. Fortunately for Twilight Sparkle, the fields surrounding her Castle of Friendship were still owned by Ponyville itself. It made deciding where to build her aptly named School of Friendship a lot easier. Buying from the town was far more straightforward than buying from a company or private citizen. Being a Princess of Equestria certainly helped too. Normally Twilight wouldn’t throw her crown around and use it to get what she wanted, but the chance to show the entire world just what friendship was and the magic that lay within it? That was an opportunity she just couldn’t pass up.

Even now, standing on the steps to her castle, watching as ponies tirelessly worked to complete her school, pride and accomplishment swelled inside Twilight. The construction process has been long, and there was still much to go, but the progress being made was clear. Much of the frame was done, as was the groundwork for the pony-made lake that lay at the entrance of the school. At this rate, the school should be finished well ahead of schedule before the first semester. The Equestrian Education Association already provisionally approved the school and the curriculum she designed. Now, all she needed was the school itself. And students. And teachers. Twilight wondered if she should have organized the staff sooner in her plans...

Over the distant sound of wood cutting and hammering, a high-pitched hum faded in. Twilight’s ears flicked as she tried to understand the growing sound. Was somepony holding a high note? Did she miss a song in town? Again. And why is it getting louder? With a glance toward Ponyville, Twilight registered the sight of a pink blur trailed by clouds of dust. Said blur barreled into her a moment later.

Twilight and her shrieking pink attacker tumbled through the front door to the castle, coming to rest with Twilight on her back. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, Twilight finally got a full view of who stampeded into her. Pinkie Pie – somehow – ended up on her hooves standing over Twilight with a toothy grin on her face.

“Twilight! I just had the greatest, most amazingly important idea I’ve ever had!” Pinkie’s bubbly energy consumed every muscle in her body as even her mane and tail twitched with excitement.

“Pinkie?! What in Equestria could be so important that you needed to tackle me?” Twilight sputtered while she collected her thoughts. With Pinkie standing over her like this, Twilight found herself pinned to the ground. She pressed a hoof onto Pinkie's chest to try and push her away but found her friend rooted to the ground.

“It’s only the best idea ever!” Pinkie leaned down and wrapped Twilight in a powerful hug. With a powerful swing, Pinkie lifted Twilight, so they both stood on their hind legs. “And I need your help to do it!”

Twilight’s horn flashed as she teleported a few steps away, out of Pinkie’s grasp. She stumbled and swayed on her hooves. Normally, teleportation wouldn’t make her so lightheaded, but this time Twilight needed to blink away the dizziness clouding her head. Whether it was because of the spell or because of Pinkie’s assault, she wasn’t sure.

Even with her mind clearer, Twilight cocked her head in confusion at Pinkie’s antics. The party-obsessed pony was blissfully unaware that Twilight had escaped her hug. Pinkie maintained her, now empty, hug while squealing to herself in joy. With a light cough, Twilight shook her head.

“Well, I’ll help if I can.” She paused for a moment as the sound of woodworking echoed into the castle, reminding her of her commitments. “Or at least as much as I can, right now. I still have a lot to do before the School of Friendship’s first semester. Especially with the construction team outside, I need to be around to assist as best I can. Although the foreman keeps saying he doesn’t need my help.” She quietly added that last part.

“Oh,” Pinkie dropped to her hooves and brushed away Twilight’s concern with a shake of her head. “That’s fine. I just need to borrow some of the land around the castle. Or maybe the school? Oh. How about a little land from both?”

“Do I even want to ask why?” Twilight asked with an air of annoyance in her voice. Normally, Pinkie’s uniquely Pinkie Pie behavior didn’t bother her, but today was different. Even Twilight could recognize that the process of starting her own school was fraying her nerves.

Pinkie's unnervingly wild smile returned at Twilight’s question. A few barely suppressed giggles later, Pinkie started skipping in place. Either Pinkie chose to ignore Twilight’s frustrated tone, or she simply didn’t notice it in her own eagerness. Seeing this, Twilight knew she couldn’t stay mad at her friend. It wasn’t often Pinkie was this enthusiastic about something

“Alright, what’s this about, Pinkie?” Twilight asked with a soft chuckle. She threw a wing around Pinkie and guided her into the castle’s main hall. Twilight figured the two of them may as well sit down to talk rather than stand awkwardly in the entranceway to the castle.

The main hall, once lifeless and strange, had long since transformed into an inviting and familiar place to Twilight. While it will never quite take the place of her old home – the Golden Oak Library – Twilight would never say she didn't love her castle. Her new home had become tied to many memories, arguably even more than the old treehouse. This was where Twilight convinced Starlight to give friendship a second chance and become her student; a decision that planted the seeds which eventually sprouted into her School of Friendship. This castle was where she belonged. Without this castle, there was a nonzero chance Princess Celestia would have called her back to Canterlot to live in the Canterlot Castle. Twilight doubted the princess would have her leave her friends behind, but the possibility did exist. Perhaps most importantly of all, the Castle of Friendship forever immortalized her old home – and her friends – in its walls. With the roots of the Golden Oak Library as a permanent light fixture in the main hall, Twilight knew that this castle was forever the place she would call home.

“Well, it started when Mr. and Mrs. Cake wanted to sell some ice cream cakes,” Twilight recognized Pinkie was going into one of her detailed explanations of the day's events, so she took up her seat at the massive magic-infused map that dominated the center of the room. All the while, Pinkie continued prancing around the room, entertaining Twilight with the details of her day. Occasionally, she paused to mime some minor part of her story or to bat at the lights that dangled from the Golden Oak’s roots.

While most of Pinkie's explanation was her usual brand of amusing running commentary, that did mean much of it was insignificant to what Pinkie was ultimately excited about. Learning to summarize a conversation with Pinkie Pie was a skill that had taken Twilight years to master. She managed to glean the most important details of the tale by the end.

“–and then I ran here and into you. Literally! Then you asked–” Twilight had to dive over part of the table to shove her hoof into Pinkie’s mouth to stop her. If she didn’t, Pinkie would have started the story over again when it came up.

“Alright! I think I get the point.” Pinkie tried to respond with her usual “okie-dokie”, but it came out as a muffled mess of sounds. Twilight pulled her hoof back and gave Pinkie an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I still don’t understand why you need property, of all things. If you needed me to talk to Starlight or Trixie, I could understand that. But I'm not sure I understand what you wanted help with that has you so excited.”

“Twilight–” Pinkie stopped herself short as she danced from one hoof to another, trying not to explode in excitement. A fit of giggles overtook her as she pranced in place. Pinkie finally ignored all pretenses of a proper explanation as she squealed, “Giant gingerbread house!”

It took Twilight a moment to understand what Pinkie said. When the realization finally hit, she felt her wings twitch and tense. The color in her face drained away as she spoke, “You want to make a house-sized gingerbread house.” Pinkie loudly embraced her mirth, laughing until she toppled over onto her back.

Twilight had long since forsaken the figuring out the how’s and why’s of Pinkie Pie. But this was one idea that threw her for a loop. Dozens of questions overlapped in Twilight’s head and brought her thought process to a crawl. She sputtered a few times trying to form a full sentence; all she wanted was a starting point to explain how bizarre an idea this was.

The practicality of a full-sized building made of gingerbread seemed minimal, if not entirely nonexistent. Twilight finally began to untangle her thoughts. Surely it would rot away quickly, and that’s assuming gingerbread as a building material would even hold up against the elements for any length of time. Which begs the question of “why make this at all?”. What purpose would a house made of gingerbread actually serve? If you ignore those concerns, the sheer amount of labor needed to make that much gingerbread threatened to stop the project dead in its tracks. How would you bake gingerbread the size of a wall anyway?

Twilight’s inner monologue came to a halt. That was it. That’s how she’d convince Pinkie this was a lost cause. Twilight could appeal to Pinkie’s inner baker and explain how baking this much gingerbread wouldn’t work. Surely Pinkie would agree with that and drop this absurd idea.

Twilight refocused her eyes and blinked a few times. Her eyes felt dry and her neck stiff, but she couldn't place why. Twilight craned her head and neck around in an attempt to stretch her muscles out. In doing so, she realized that, at some point, she had started staring up at the roots of her old home. Bizarrely, she wasn’t quite sure when she started staring at the ceiling and glanced around the room. Pinkie was gone, but a familiar small purple dragon was currently lounging on his seat next to hers at the Map. Spike was rereading an older issue of the Power Ponies, unconcerned that his adoptive sister was staring at the ceiling a moment prior.

“Spike?” Twilight asked while still sweeping her gaze around the room, trying to find any evidence of where Pinkie had vanished. “Where did Pinkie go?”

“You blanked out and didn’t respond to anything, so she asked me how you ended up getting the land for the school. I sent her to Mayor Mare,” Spike replied as he flipped a page in his comic.

“Did she tell you why she wanted property?” Instinctively, Twilight’s wings flared out a bit in frustration.

“I learned to stop asking Pinkie questions like that a loooong time ago.” Spike put his comic down for a moment to lean over the side of his chair. When he came back up, he held out a thick tome towards Twilight and returned to reading with his comic secured in his free set of claws. “Here. You just need to clear your mind and relax.”

The book was surrounded by the light pink glow from Twilight’s horn as it was pulled toward her. Twilight’s ears splayed out flat after she read the cover. The book dipped in the air and spun around to face Spike, showing him the cover.

“Mareiam-Pegasters Grand Ponish Dictionary, Third Edition, Volume One,” Twilight recited the cover, glaring at her adoptive brother. “Spike, this is a dictionary. I don’t read dictionaries to relax.”

For the first time since he sat down, Spike looked at Twilight. His passive gaze pierced through Twilight. For a moment, they locked eyes. Neither sibling willing to admit they were wrong. That is until Twilight glanced away as she accepted defeat.

“...anymore.” Twilight’s soft admission was answered with a light hum from Spike.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Let it be known; Trixie will never eat at that establishment again,” the currently-not-feeling-so-great and powerfully-miserable Trixie groaned. Starlight scoffed a few steps ahead while peering down an alleyway as they passed.

“You’ve mentioned,” she said with a tone dipped in frustration. Starlight looked down another fork in the road, making a low, throaty noise of disappointment. “Now keep looking. She couldn’t have gotten that far.”

After Pinkie bolted out of Sugarcube Corner, Starlight and Trixie began a search across Ponyville for the town’s premier pink party pony. Or, more accurately, Starlight was searching while Trixie was being dragged along. Anything for friendship, Trixie figured. Even if that meant wading through this heat, searching for a pony she really didn’t care to find. Especially since the pony that Trixie was conscripted to find fed her the worst cake she had ever dined on.

“Did you even try the cake, Starlight? I feel like you didn’t.” Trixie’s face scrunched up. She scraped her tongue against her teeth, the memory of the taste lingering on her tastebuds. “It’s an ice cream cake. It’s not supposed to taste like–”

“Applejack!” 

Trixie tripped midstep at the sudden interruption, tumbling to the dirt path. She watched as Starlight left her stumbling friend behind, vanishing into the crowded market. With an absolutely not at all embarrassed cough, Trixie lifted herself from the dirt. She brushed off the dust that stubbornly clung to her cape and used her magic to readjust her hat, ensuring her face was hidden under the brim. Not to hide her humiliated blush – definitely not – but rather to keep the sun out of her eyes.

Mentally, Trixie scrambled to devise a cover story. A moment ago, the sun moved and blinded the Great and Powerful Trixie. That’s what happened. Yes. Everypony saw it happen. Not that anypony saw Trixie trip, of course. Her eyes darted around, spotting ponies laughing and conversing with one another. None of them gave Trixie any mind. But if they did, it was due to the sun. The sun that attacked Trixie’s vision. Trixie nodded, satisfied with her internal monologue. Craning her neck up to her full height, Trixie sauntered after Starlight into the market.

Despite the blistering heat, the market as a whole was buzzing with activity. A half dozen mobile stalls were set up and open, each occupied with shopkeepers barking out their prices and the quality of their products. Starlight ignored them all and pressed on through the crowd, her destination being one of the busiest stalls in the market. When she finally had eyes on the pop-up shop, she picked up her pace. Both barrels full of apples and ponies with half-empty sacks surrounded the cart.

The salespony at the helm, bright orange and wearing a hat that was visible from Canterlot, was preoccupied with one of her customers. One of her ears flicked when Starlight again called out her name. The mare swiveled her head around, searching for whoever was looking for her. The moment she locked eyes with Starlight, a powerful smile spread across the apple farmer’s face.

“Well howdy, Starlight!” Applejack waved the approaching mare over. She turned back to her customer as a few bits landed on the stall, several apples lifted up in a goldish aura and drifted into the saddlebags belonging to a mint green unicorn. Applejack and the unicorn shared a few parting words as they finished their transaction.

Starlight skidded to a halt next to the stall, kicking dust into the air. The small dust cloud interrupted the mostly completed sale, and both Applejack and her customer glared at Starlight. Despite a pair of hurried apologies from Starlight, the unicorn humphed and marched away from the stall with a roll of her eyes.

“Seeing as you’ve gone and run off my customers,” Applejack began with a half-playful scowl that caused Starlight to blush and awkwardly laugh, “I suppose I can spare the time to chat. What brings you by?” Any seriousness that was present in her voice faded away.

Starlight cleared her throat and fought to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “Have you seen Pinkie Pie?” She eyed Trixie while she slowly sashayed up to join the two. Starlight’s eyes narrowed at the approaching mare and gestured towards her, “Somepony here insulted her and needs to apologize. Pinkie ran off, and we haven’t been able to find her.” Applejack concentrated on Trixie while she gasped at the heinous things her friend implied about her.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie did not ‘insult’ anypony! That’s not in Trixie’s nature!” She scoffed and threw her own nose into the air. “Trixie is a showmare! She has a flair for spectacle! Everything Trixie does is for that very purpose. You couldn’t get us out of eating a cake the size of Mount Everhoof, so the Great and Powerful Trixie took charge of the situation.” With an indignant snort, Trixie glared back at Starlight.
 
“‘Took charge’?” Starlight echoed. She closed her eyes and tilted her head; her mouth opened and closed seemingly at random while she tried to form a response. When one finally came to her, she thrashed her head around in disbelief. “That doesn’t even make sense! You ate the cake!” Several ponies stopped their conversations and turned to look at the sudden outburst.

“No, Trixie took a slice of cake,” the showmare corrected. Starlight, unamused at the technicality, blankly stared at Trixie. “It wasn’t even that good in Trixie’s humble opinion. You wouldn’t know since you didn’t even take a bite of your slice.” Trixie jabbed a hoof at her not-exactly-great and not-very-agreeable friend.

"That doesn’t matter!" Starlight blurted. She quickly tried to get the conversation back on track and away from the cake, "You didn’t have a plan! You insulted Pinkie! That’s the important thing here.”

The market-goers crowded around the apple stall, compelled to watch the argument unfolding in the market center. Neither Trixie nor Starlight took notice of their new audience as they fired off quips at one another. Applejack sneered as she glanced around the spectators swarming around her stall – not for her apples, but to watch the show. She’s never let a fight break out in front of her cart before, and today was not going to be the first. Adjusting her trusty hat, Applejack stomped between the two arguing mares and grabbed the attention of everypony in the vicinity.

“Alright!” Applejack snapped her head towards both Trixie and Starlight – making sure both were paying attention to her. The salespony switched her concentration to the crowd and swept a foreleg across the mass of ponies. “That’s enough. Y'all go back to your business. You hear? Get!” Most of the crowd took heed of Applejack and acted as if there wasn’t just a very obvious verbal battle a few steps away from them. A few stragglers hung around – waiting to see if anything else happened. Applejack’s impatient scowl scared them off instantly.

As Applejack shooed the crowd, Starlight took the time to gather her thoughts. Embarrassment slapped her across the face, leaving a grimace in its wake. This had not gone how she planned. Starlight wanted to talk Applejack and, maybe, find out where Pinkie Pie had run off to. Instead, she and Trixie started an argument in front of the Apple family stall, likely scaring off any customers Applejack may have had.

With the crowd dispersed, Applejack took a deep breath and glared at Starlight. Her irritated gaze melted to a more sympathetic one after seeing Starlight’s sullen and ashamed expression.

“Why don’t we try this again, alright?” Applejack said softly to Starlight. Starlight’s ears twitched against her head as she peered up at Applejack, who nodded. With a small smile, Starlight silently responded with a nod of her own and craned her neck back up. Seeing her friend’s spirits lifted, Applejack let a lopsided smirk touch her lips. However, her smile hardened and flipped when she peered over to Trixie.

Trixie unashamedly scrutinized her hoof, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. It had been some time since she pampered herself and considered the idea of visiting the Day Spa. Trixie didn’t get to Ponyville until mid-day and the business was going to close sooner rather than later. She didn’t plan on staying in town long, not more than a night or two. Trixie had a tour to get back to, after all. Her Vanhoover loop wasn’t long, and she could easily stop at one of the spas in the city instead. It wasn’t the ideal solution. Big city spas were often too expensive for her blood, while Ponyville had one of the few that lived up to her expectations and sat in her prince range. 

Trixie finally noticed the silence that had overtaken the market. She glanced up to find both Applejack and Starlight glaring at her. Unsure of what the two expected of her, Trixie shrugged. Their collective groan told Trixie that they were not satisfied with such an answer.

“Trixie,” Applejack snarled with a stomp. “What’d you say to Pinkie Pie that upset her?” Trixie was a pony that frustrated the farmer to no end. She was rude, snarky, and more than a bit self-centered. How Starlight ended up being friends with a pony like that made… a lot of sense the more Applejack thought about it. Not that she’d ever mention that to anypony.

“Trixie has no idea.” Trixie rolled her eyes at the hostility on display. The distrust she was often shown by the citizens of this town had long since become the norm. “One moment, Starlight and I are about to enjoy a bit of cake – not that Trixie knew it was terrible at the time – and the next, I hear a mare screaming about a gingerbread house.” Trixie wiped the sweat growing on her brow and glared at the sun from behind her hat. “In summer. Honestly, where’s your weather team? The least they could do is kick up a breeze.”

“Trixie,” Starlight warned as her voice took on a threatening edge.

“That’s what happened!” Trixie pleaded while tossing her head back with a groan. “I’m not sure what answer you’re fishing for. Trixie says a lot of things. Sometimes she says something that rubs somepony the wrong way.”

“You–”

“Simmer down!” Applejack threw herself between the renewing argument; she was not about to let this fight start again. Starlight shook her head and avoided eye contact with Applejack. While not satisfied with the response, Applejack accepted it and twisted her head around to sneer at Trixie. “That goes for you too, Trixie. You’ve caused this town more than enough trouble – twice. Either talk about what happened or get a move on.”

With a scoff, Trixie recoiled as if she was repulsed by a sudden odor assaulting her senses, the nerve of this pony finally striking a chord with Trixie. She turned away with a flippant and exaggerated twirl. Trixie peeked over her shoulder as she trotted away, her cape fluttering in the air behind her. “Fine. Trixie can tell when she’s not wanted,” she chirped. The unicorn broke her glare and marched away.

Applejack sighed as she watched the mare depart, happy that the source of her great and powerful headache was leaving. Starlight raised a hoof toward Trixie and opened her mouth, but she closed it a moment later without making a sound. Concern swelled in her eyes. Trixie could get under pony’s skins; there was no denying that. But everypony has their limits, and clearly, Trixie had hit hers. Starlight snapped her head between Applejack and the rapidly retreating Trixie as she decided what to do.

“I have to go after her,” Starlight announced. Applejack smiled in understanding as she shifted around to look at the magically gifted unicorn. “Sorry about all this. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I know.” Applejack brought a hoof up which Starlight quickly bumped with her own. The apple farmer looked back, watching Trixie leave. A wince momentarily crossed Applejack’s face, but it was gone as suddenly as it came. Applejack returned her attention returned to Starlight; a warm and friendly smile replaced whatever thoughts had popped up prior. “If you really want to pay me back, swing by the farm sometime before the rain comes back around and help us fix up the barn roof. Started leaking a few days before this dry spell; we could always use the help.”

With a smile of her own, Starlight nodded at the proposition before turning away to gallop after Trixie.





“So there’s nothing the weather team can do?”

Mayor Mare was melting, and so was her beloved town of Ponyville beneath the sun. Every year, the weather factory in Cloudsdale would shut down for several days. The ramifications of which impacted all across Equestria, leading to a yearly nationwide heatwave. Both the crown and the ponies in charge of the factory wanted the facility inspected top to bottom. Simply put; no weather factory meant no clouds, no clouds meant no rain, and no rain meant dry crops and a lot of heat.

This time, for reasons loosely connected to the Storm King’s invasion a few months ago, the maintenance period was lengthened from four days to over a week. Officials from Canterlot and Cloudsdale made sure each major settlement in Equestria was aware of the extended shutdown.

Ponyville was no different. Mayor Mare prepared the town like she always has, from organizing water rations to clearing out any dangers of a possible brush fire. Ponyville is, and will be as long as she is in office, her responsibility. That didn’t mean she had to like the heat or that she wouldn’t plead with the weather team to make life more bearable.

“Like I said,” Rainbow Dash sighed and shrugged as she fluttered through the air, “we’re already working on bringing in clouds from the Everfree Forest, but they’re too intense for us to bring near town right now. In a few hours, we should have some of the wildness bucked out of them. It won’t be much, but we can give Ponyville a bit of cloud cover then. With Cloudsdale down, that’s all we can do.”

Mayor Mare tugged at her cotton collar, which rubbed uncomfortably against her coat. Even in the relative safety of her office, the muggy weather was all-encompassing. The tense negotiations with Rainbow Dash were not helping either. She respected Rainbow Dash for all of her accomplishments and dedication to Ponyville. For years she’s acted as Ponyville’s captain of the weather team and, recently, became a member of the Wonderbolts. Despite that, the mayor didn’t find Dash to be a leader. She appreciated all of the pegasi in town helping with the weather, certainly, but this was the third day in a row where the team wasn’t able to take advantage of the Everfree’s clouds.

“And in a few hours the sun will start going down,” the mayor’s irritation seeped into her tone, and Dash couldn’t avoid rolling her eyes. “Fine. I know it’s taken a few days, but at the very least, Ponyville will have a bit of a reprieve tomorrow before Cloudsdale gets back up to speed. Can we expect more overcast in the next few days?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. I don’t have many pairs of wings on the team; there’s just not enough of us to maintain the clouds we have and bring in more. After tomorrow, we’re going to have to cycle out the clouds we already have. Add in the fact some of the pegasi on the team are inexperienced, and we’d risk losing half the town to a wild storm,” Dash said with a roll of one of her front hooves. Rainbow stopped her slow circling of the room to glare at the mayor. She jabbed an accusatory hoof toward her. “So don’t blame us for doing our jobs the best we can. I’m not going to risk ponies getting hurt by pushing them to do the impossible. If you wanted this done quicker, you should have asked Twilight or one of the other princesses to ask around Equestria for help.”

Mayor Mare’s face twitched into a grimace at the mention of Twilight Sparkle. The mayor had no issue with the mare – she liked Twilight – but having a Princess of Equestria living in Ponyville reduced her own role in the town. Ponies brushed past Mayor Mare to ask Twilight directly for help more and more. In fact, the only reason Mayor Mare knew of the extended shutdown was because Twilight was the one to tell her about it. Which was after a letter came from Canterlot to Ponyville and was delivered to Twilight. And that letter came through the mail service, which was directly connected to the town hall. Suffice to say, Mayor Mare was frustrated. Ponyville was her town to manage, and she needed to show that the ponies of Ponyville could handle things on their own when they needed to. But...

Rainbow was right.

Perhaps it was the infamous Ponyville stubbornness pushing Mayor Mare to handle this on her own. Or maybe her jealousy of Twilight overtaking her role in the town. Whatever it was, Rainbow was right. Plenty of weather pegasi across Equestria were going to have free time while Cloudsdale was out of commission. Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have favorable views about Ponyville, and either princess could have very easily pulled together the help the town needed.

Rainbow recognized the dejected look in Mayor Mare’s eyes. When Rainbow landed on the ground, she gave the mayor a warm and confident smirk. “Listen, don’t sweat it, Mayor. I’ll make sure the–”

The door to the mayor’s office slammed open with the force of a stampeding yak. Books tumbled off the shelves lining the office, and the various knick-knacks that littered Mayor Mare’s desk rumbled in place. Rainbow popped back into the air, touching the high ceiling and twisting around to face the intruder. Mayor Mare ducked under her desk in terror.

“Mayor Maaare~!” A familiar high-pitched sing-song-like voice filled the office. Mayor Mare’s ears fell flat when she realized who owned that voice. She popped out from under her desk and scowled at the pony in the door.

“Miss Pie. I thought we talked about you barging into my office like this,” Ponyville’s mayor put as much authority as she could into her voice, puffing her chest out. Pinkie Pie was never a pony who responded to overt displays of authority. Not out of malice, of course, but she was just a free spirit. Nevertheless, Mayor Mare still had to try for the sake of appearances.

“We sure did! But that was about throwing surprise parties in your office.” Pinkie Pie skipped over to the desk and leaned heavily over the desk, a large smile chiseled on her face. “I’m not here to throw you a party. I’m here to ask for your help!”

That piqued the government official’s interest. Pinkie Pie – the pony who could pull together the resources to host a party in her sleep – wanted her help? Mayor Mare was sure that if Pinkie ever had machinations of running for office, she would have more connections than Mayor Mare has now. And she’d been in the game for decades. Even before Twilight Sparkle took over most of the duties of managing Ponyville, Pinkie never came to the local government for help with her parties unless it involved town hall.

Rainbow, seeing her opportunity to get away from Mayor Mare’s badgering – and whatever Pinkie was planning – silently drifted out the door. She poked her head around the corner back into the office for a moment. “Gonna go take care of the clouds! Have fun! Bye!”

Before Mayor Mare could answer, the tail end of a rainbow streak appeared at the edge of the doorframe as Rainbow sped away. The blur was accompanied by the sounds of papers rustling as they were thrown into the air. She blinked a few times before her ears flattened again. Mayor Mare grumbled an unintelligible goodbye toward the speeding pegasus before returning her full attention to Pinkie Pie. Whatever Pinkie needed help with was now resting solely on Mayor Mare. Which she, actually, was quite happy about in a way.

“Alright Miss Pie,” the mayor said as she edged her chair closer to the desk. She leaned forward and brought her forehooves brought together in interest. Pinkie mimicked the actions with a chair on the other side of the desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I want,” Pinkie breathed and clicked her hooves together, closing her eyes as she giggled to herself. She radiated unfettered excitement as her mane and tail vibrated wildly. When Pinkie reopened her eyes, her whole body joined her mane in quivering with enthusiasm. After a moment, her giggling transformed into hysterical laughter. She hopped on top of the desk, practically tap dancing on it as she squealed in joy.

“I want to make a giant gingerbread house!” Pinkie leaped off the desk and started hopping around the room. All Mayor Mare could do was tilt her head watching the display.

“Do… you need a recipe?” she slowly asked, one eye squinted in confusion. Mayor Mare couldn’t understand why Pinkie needed her help, or why she was so excited at the prospect of a single gingerbread house.

“Oh no, I’ve got that covered.” Pinkie laughed off the suggestion as if it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. In a way, Mayor Mare realized it was. Of course, Ponyville’s most prolific baker knew how to make a gingerbread house. “I just need you to give me the land to make it!”

Mayor Mare was rocked in her seat by the question. Then, so did the building. A powerful boom shook the town hall, and everything not nailed to the floor rattled. Thankfully, the town was well prepared for Rainbow Dash and her habit of shattering the sound barrier, so most of the loose knick-knacks in her office were weighted down in some way. And, at the moment, that included Mayor Mare’s ability to think straight.

“Did you say land?”

“Well duh,” Pinkie giggled and hopped back into her seat. Standing on it, not sitting. “You can’t make a full-sized gingerbread house inside another house. That’d just be silly.”

Mayor Mare yanked her glasses off and let them drop on the desk as she started rubbing her eyes. Normally, she would take better care of her spectacles, but Pinkie shattered the mayor’s dwindling patience with a single sentence. All Mayor Mare wanted right now was to set up an appointment in the Ponyville Day Spa and stay there for the rest of her day.

“Pinkie, just...” With an exasperated sigh, Mayor Mare shifted her hooves to rub her temples in a vain attempt to fight the rapidly growing migraine. “I have a laundry list of reasons why I wouldn’t even sell you property for this, let alone give it to you. But let’s just start with the most obvious of them all. Do you know how many carts it would take to bring in all the flour, sugar, and every other ingredient you could possibly need? To make something that large would back up trade for days. Maybe even weeks, depending on where you get it all from or if I’m horribly underestimating how much you’d need.”

Pinkie’s mood shift was sudden, though thankfully not as intense as Mayor Mare feared it could have been. With a contemplative “oh”, Pinkie sat down in the chair and inspected the desk deeply in thought.

While Mayor Mare was glad Pinkie was willing to back off of her bizarre idea, she wished it wasn’t something that’d crush the poor mare’s hopes. Pinkie lived for making ponies smile, and this gingerbread house was surely one of them. But, it was an idea that had massive drawbacks for Ponyville. As mayor, she couldn’t – and wouldn’t – put Ponyville under a strain like that.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie.” With a sad smile, Mayor Mare reached a hoof out to Pinkie as a sign of peace. “I simply cannot give or sell you property for a project like that.” Pinkie didn’t answer and continued to study the desk with a furrowed brow. “But,” Mayor Mare’s smile brightened a little, “thank you for coming to me. Ponies don’t normally come to me for things like this anymore. With Princess Twilight in town, anything I can do, she can do. And more.”

There was a small pause between the two ponies as Mayor Mare’s words set in. Pinkie looked up at Mayor Mare with renewed hope as her smile returned. Mayor Mare, on the other hoof, was filled with impending dread as the color in her face drained away. The consequences of her words crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

“So, you’re saying that if you can’t do it…” Pinkie trailed off as her smile returned. Mayor Mare quietly pleaded for her companion to stop with a slow shake of her head, but Pinkie Pie ignored it and pressed on. “Then I need to go to the next level above you! Thanks, Mayor Mare!”

With a single swift jump, Pinkie leapt from her chair and pranced out the office. Pinkie flicked her tail, wrapping it around the door handle, and slammed shut the office door behind her. Mayor Mare was left to quietly ponder in her office alone. She leaned back into her chair and blankly stared at her ceiling. The mayor listened as the birds chirped, practically coughing in the muggy heat, outside her window. It wasn’t exactly peaceful, and the noise failed to pull Mayor Mare’s attention away from her thoughts.

“So did Twilight retire me and I didn’t know? Or was I always second fiddle in my own town?” she aimlessly asked her ceiling.





Trixie continued her march through Ponyville with her head held high. The prized hat she wore atop her head shielded her eyes from any further attacks from the blazing sun. Her iconic and beautiful cape sparkled in the sunlight behind her. From a distance, her silhouette surely radiated the two traits Trixie wore with pride – great and powerful. Anypony who hadn’t heard of the Great and Powerful Trixie – not that there were many – would surely turn their head and wonder just who that mysterious mare was.

“Trixie?”

Or, they would wonder about the sullen mare keeping pace behind Trixie, the one who occasionally tried to spark up a conversation. Just like the last half dozen attempts, Trixie ignored the call and kept walking.

It hadn’t taken Starlight long to catch up with Trixie after she stormed out of the Ponyville market. The two had been quietly walking through town, all the while sweating to death under intense rays of sunlight. Why Trixie hadn’t yet removed her trademark stage get-up – or why she was wearing it in the first place – Starlight could only guess. Trixie’s attire wasn’t exactly lightweight, after all.

Seeing as Trixie was still not wanting to talk, Starlight sighed and watched the town passing by around her. She specifically took note that the two of them ended up in the center of Ponyville, behind the town hall. Starlight was still looking for Pinkie Pie in the hope she would be able to drag an apology out of Trixie. But, at the moment, Trixie was being very Trixie about things. Even if Starlight could get the two to talk to each other right now, she was sure it would only make things worse.

While Starlight’s mind wandered and pondered the best course of action, her eyes drifted across the town. Absently, she watched the citizens of Ponyville go about their days. A grey pegasus lazily drifted through the sky, inspecting a letter in her hooves. The satchel on her side was emblazoned with the logo of the Central Equestrian Mail Service. A bright orange filly sped through the town on her scooter. She simultaneously aimed for and narrowly avoided the few pedestrians walking through town. By and large, a perfectly ordinary day in Ponyville – if a little on the empty side.

"Alright, you two. Drink up. Two nice, ice-cold bowls of water coming right up!"

Starlight’s ears swiveled in the direction of a faint voice, and her head followed suit shortly after. A familiar pegasus was on her knees as she poked around the shrubs lining the town hall, hugging the shade it brought. Two brown and furry heads popped out, blinking at the pony in interest. Aided by her wings, the pegasus dug through her saddlebags, producing two empty bowls and a vacuum-sealed metal cylinder. A pair of squirrels flopped out of the bushes, both chittering in appreciation as water flowed into the small, hoof-sized bowls.

Starlight couldn’t help but smile. Even in a heatwave like this, Fluttershy was worrying about the animals living in and around Ponyville. Starlight’s trot tapered off until she stopped in the street as an idea formed in her mind. It may be a bit blunt solution, but Fluttershy was practically the definition of the word kind. If there was anypony who could get Trixie to understand why she needed to apologize, Fluttershy was the pony for the job. Starlight whipped her head back around and again called out to Trixie. “Trixie, hold up a second!” 

The showmare paused mid-stride and glanced over her shoulder. She hadn’t expected Starlight to mumble more than a few words, let alone give Trixie a command. Trixie also didn’t expect to see her motioning towards a pony practically nuzzling a pair of wild animals. Yet, that’s exactly what she saw.

Cautiously, Starlight approached Fluttershy and the happily drinking critters. The first step Starlight took off the dirt path and onto the grass alerted the squirrels, the crunch of the grass freezing them in place. Both of the furry creatures flinched and snapped their attention toward the advancing pony. Fluttershy peered over to what spooked her furry friends.

“Oh! Hello, Starlight.” Fluttershy’s warm reception towards her friend calmed the squirrels, and they returned to their bowls. Raising to her hooves, Fluttershy returned the half-full thermos to her bags and turned to face Starlight properly.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Starlight asked while watching the two creatures gulp down water. One of the pair pulled their head up from the container, their nose twisting and twitching as it stared off beyond the two mares. Once the squirrels’ curiosity was satisfied, it dumped its face back into the water bowl.

“Not at all. I’m just making sure every creature in Ponyville is staying hydrated.” The smile on Fluttershy’s face couldn’t stop the tiredness from seeping into her voice.

“Are you sure?” Starlight asked with a raised brow. Fluttershy’s mane was tied back into a bun rather than loosely cascading down. Her coat and tail looked rougher than normal, almost as if she just rolled out of bed. With her mane out of her face, the redness around Fluttershy’s eyes was clear and apparent to the world.

“Oh yes. I’m sure.” Fluttershy nodded and rubbed at her eyes. “It’s just been a hectic few days, is all.”

“Well, if you’re certain,” Starlight relented with an apprehensive smile. She could tell Fluttershy was not at her best, and the unicorn considered asking somepony else for help. But Starlight pushed that thought away; Fluttershy was smart and wouldn’t overexert herself. Cautiously, she waved Trixie over who rolled her eyes. Seeing as she had no other options, Trixie obliged to whatever it was Starlight had in mind. Fluttershy only now noticed the cape-clad pony, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She was more than happy to make time for Starlight, but Trixie was a whole different question.

“So Fluttershy. Trixie and I are in a bit of a bind. We’re looking for Pinkie Pie, who Trixie insulted earlier today. We asked Applejack for help earlier, but that just started a big argument between the three of us. Could you please explain to Trixie that her comments about Sugar Cube Corner were rude?” Starlight barreled through the low growls and startled squeaks from her friends and ended with a toothy grin directed at Fluttershy.

Before Fluttershy could get a word in, Trixie interjected in the only way she knew how.

“Hey!” Trixie’s shout spooked the two squirrels, knocking their bowls of water over in fright. She charged up to Starlight, who only side-eyed Trixie while maintaining her smile. “What Trixie said was not an insult!”

“It sure sounded like one.” 

“It was a joke!”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re a stage magician and not a stand-up comedian.”

Fluttershy took a step back as the argument unfolded in front of her. Maybe she could convince Starlight and Trixie she was busy with the animals in Ponyville? She flicked her eyes over her shoulder, watching the squirrels staring down their now empty bowls. The two looked at one another, then back to their now-empty bowls. The pair of squirrels raised their heads, staring at Fluttershy. She saw the smallest twitch of their eyes.

With an anger-fueled screech, the wild animals charged at Trixie. Fluttershy attempted to get in between, but the two darted between her hooves. Both of the arguing unicorns glanced at Fluttershy as she dived away. In a poorly timed blink, Starlight missed both squirrels leaping out from underneath Fluttershy, claws ready to slash. The sound of a cloth ripping accompanied a startled shriek as the two assaulted the unprepared and confused Trixie.

A massive, glass-shattering boom erupted emanated from the other side of the town hall ended the attack. Nearby trees shook, and loose leaves fell. The scooter-riding pegasus Starlight saw earlier came to an abrupt halt and cheered at the rainbow streak speeding away overhead.

Both squirrels raced away, unsure of what caused the explosion. If it was their victim, they didn’t want to stick around to see what she was doing. Fluttershy, seeing the creatures sprinting away in fear, got back onto her hooves and jumped into the air to hunt them down from the sky. A battle cry of, "No you don’t, misters!" could be heard as she raced after them.

As quickly and suddenly as the battle began, it was over. Starlight, in a bizarre mix of anxiousness and bafflement, stared blankly at the ensuing chase. She replayed the chaos in her mind, trying to understand how everypony got into this mess. A light groan reminded her of the one pony in the eye of the storm.

“Trixie!” Starlight called. Trixie’s ears fell flat under her hat, which rather impressively stayed on during the attack. Trixie had stumbled over onto her back when the squirrels struck. Soreness from her awkward tumble flared through her body as she rolled over onto her stomach. The sore-showmare sighed as she recomposed herself and repositioned her legs under her to stand up.

Rushing up to Trixie’s side, Starlight offered a hoof to the mare but was ignored. An uncomfortable silence gripped the two as Trixie stretched her neck and brushed away dirt that clung to her coat. She then turned her attention to cleaning off her cape, which had taken the brunt of the fall. Both Starlight and Trixie gasped when they saw the damage.

A wide tear ripped across the side of Trixie’s cape. It peeled away and gave a clear view of Trixie’s cutie mark. Trixie again groaned. It wasn’t the first time her cape had been damaged like this; traveling across Equestria had the tendency to wear things out. Not that the fact made stitching it closed any less frustrating. Trixie scowled, thinking about how much the time it was going to take to fix the gash – if she even had enough twine to fix it.

Starlight bit her lip as she stared at the hole. In a way, she felt responsible for the damage. If she hadn't pestered Trixie into talking with Fluttershy, then none of this would have even happened. Starlight put a hoof on her friend’s shoulder, who flinched and stiffened at the touch. After a moment, Trixie relaxed but her scowl was redirected at Starlight.

“I’m sorry, Trixie,” Starlight removed her hoof and her eyes fell to the ground, unable to meet the glare aimed at her.

“It’s fine,” Trixie breathed. It wasn’t, but Starlight didn’t need to know that. “We probably should just split up for the day. If I’m going to sew this closed, I’ll need to go back to my wagon. Just another night wasted,” she muttered that last bit under her breath as she turned away.

Starlight’s ears perked up at the word “sew”. Her last few ideas were a bust, sure, but this one actually had legs to stand on. She raised her head and galloped up to Trixie’s side again.

“Better yet, I’ve got an idea!”
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You have to be kidding me,” Trixie groaned. Starlight had dragged her around Ponyville all day, just to end up here of all places. The sun was finally crossing the horizon, leaving the town bathed in deep oranges and long shadows. By this point, most of Ponyville was closed, or in the process of closing, for the night. But, of course, Starlight had one last trick up her sleeve. She led the two of them to the one shop still open. And it wasn’t a business Trixie was excited to enter.

Starlight sighed and poked Trixie in the shoulder. “No, I’m not. Rarity can fix up that hole in no time. Now come on, I don’t know when she closes for the night; I don’t want to hold her up if we can avoid it.” Starlight smiled and nodded toward Carousel Boutique, light spilling out from the windows. Tired of arguing, Trixie exaggeratedly shrugged and motioned for her friend to lead on.

A light charm rang through the shop as Trixie and Starlight entered. Trixie looked up at the small bell above the door as she passed through. Starlight beelined for an archway marked as “staff only” as the showmare glanced around the main floor.

Mannequins draped in dresses and accessories dotted the shop entrance. Several dresses were raised onto platforms, delicately placed to catch the eye of any who walked in. Wherever the eyes wandered, there was a dress that commanded attention. A faded geometric pattern was layered into each gown, running along the entire length of it. All of the dresses prominently featured shades of blue and silver that shimmered under spotlights, like snowflakes in the moonlight.

Trixie glanced at the folded cape on her back. Her stage attire was enchanted to produce a similar effect when seen under stage lights. An enchantment, she bitterly recalled, that was almost twice as expensive as her entire cart. If it was the same spell, just how expensive were the dresses here?

Intentional or otherwise, the collection on display reminded Trixie of winter, and she felt a scowl tug at her lips. She loved winter, but it was insulting to flaunt memories of the season in scorching weather like this. Why designers always pushed something that’s clearly out of season like this was beyond her. 

"Hello! Welcome to Carousel Boutique! I'll be out in just a moment," a voice, refined to the point of being haughty, welcomed the two from beyond the staff-marked doorway. Trixie’s ears flicked towards the door, her attention returning to the task before them. Starlight, taking the initiative, called back as she continued to approach.

"Don't worry about it, Rarity!" Starlight poked her head through the door and into the back area.

"Starlight!" The cheerful greeting was punctuated by the sound of a shuffling chair and hooves on tile floors. A moment later, Rarity appeared in the doorway and pulled Starlight into a light hug. A pair of glasses dangling on a chain around the fashion designer’s neck jingled as she moved. "I wasn't expecting you to visit today."

"I know. Sorry for dropping in unannounced like this," Starlight answered as the two released their embrace. She stepped aside so Rarity could see Trixie standing in the center of the shop, looking highly out of place in the boutique.

"Ah. Trixie. It's nice to see you again." Rarity's smile didn't waver at seeing her other guest, but Trixie was sure she could feel a shift in the room's atmosphere. Colder, unwelcoming. Neither Starlight nor Rarity reacted to the change, the same friendly smiles plastered across their muzzles. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Trixie’s jaw tightened. The way Rarity asked that question infuriated Trixie to no end. Rarity's tone, her manner of speech, and the specific words the seamstress used slapped Trixie across the face. Of all the ponies in town, this was the one pony that hated Trixie the most. But, unlike the rest, Rarity would hide her disdain behind a mask. Trixie just knew it. Before she could say anything, Starlight spoke up on Trixie’s behalf.

“It’s a long story,” Starlight admitted in a way that was reminiscent of a child trying to avoid telling their parents about the ball-sized hole in the kitchen window. With a slight shake of her head, Starlight’s horn lit as the cape on Trixie’s back lifted into the air and unfolded itself, the tear in the side flopping open. Rarity’s eyes instantly locked onto the gaping wound in the fabric. “But the ending is that Trixie’s cape was damaged. Would you be able to take a look at it?”

The magical aura surrounding the cape shifted from a greenish-blue to a lighter sky blue as Rarity inspected the damage, resting her glasses on the tip of her nose. A faint hum escaped her as she appraised the rest of the fabric.

“Mending this shut will be a breeze. Though…” the cape spun in the air so Rarity could view the other side. “The stitching here is interesting. I can see the patches covering older damages and hole repairs, yet there is also stitchwork that isn't connected to any repairs. They look like lines trailing behind falling stars. I hadn’t noticed them before; it’s quite subtle.”

A smug smirk formed on Trixie’s muzzle as the compliments towards her work fanned her ego. Even if Rarity was a liar, Trixie wouldn’t shy away from her deserved praise. "All work Trixie has had to do over the years," she boasted as she puffed out her chest.

"Well, I can certainly see that," Rarity mused as she raised a hoof to feel the fabric, tracing the stitching. "Unique and beautiful, hidden in plain sight. Not something that’s really in vogue with most fashion circles at the moment, but it stands out on its own."

"So you can fix it?" Starlight asked with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

"Of course I can. I said I would, did I not?" Rarity smiled at the question as she pulled her glasses off. The cape refolded and weightlessly laid itself across Rarity's back. She turned back around and trotted back to her workroom. With a glance behind her at Trixie, she asked, "Though I am rather curious why you want me to fix it. You clearly have the means and ability to do it yourself."

“I suggested we come to you,” Starlight replied for Trixie as she followed the fashionista into the back area. “The tear was sort of my fault, so I suggested we come here. Everypony knows how good you are, and I’m more than willing to pay for the repairs.”

“Pay?” Rarity asked over the sound of her sewing machine being pulled apart, her previous thread being removed. She eyed and compared various spools of thread to the stitching on the cape. When she found one she was satisfied with, Rarity took a seat as she threaded the new string through the machine. “Darling, please. You should know by now that I won’t hear a word of that. We’re friends; I’ll happily do this for free.”

Trixie rolled her eyes behind Rarity’s back as the sewing machine came to life. Friends. Starlight saw the reaction and glared at Trixie while throwing a foreleg into the air in disbelief. Trixie stared back at her silently fuming friend, then pointed at herself and to Rarity with a shake of her head. Starlight jabbed a hoof at the cape being settled into place on the sewing machine. Trixie shrugged in response before pointing at herself then back out the door they entered in from.

“Really?” The silent communication between the two friends was shattered when Starlight blurted her growing frustrations.

“Yes, really. There’s no reason to be so surprised at that,” Rarity replied, none-the-wiser to the commotion growing behind her as she was lost in her work. “While I get this taken care of, why don’t you two tell me about your day?”

“Where should I begin?” Trixie grumbled. “When I arrived in town and the two of us had a good time, or later when Starlight started dragging me around town against my will?”

“And when did that happen?” Starlight scoffed. “Oh! That's right! It was after you attacked Pinkie! Insulting her, insulting Sugarcube Corner; you can't just do that, Trixie! I just wanted you to apologize to her. That's all. I'm sorry today didn't work out like either of us hoped. But you shouldn't take it out on the ponies here."

Rarity’s ears perked up and her eyebrows raised as she turned around to face the two ponies snarling at one another. The sewing machine went silent as the unicorn's attention was ripped away, her glasses falling from her face and hanging around her neck. Trixie stomped up to Starlight and roughly jabbed a hoof into her chest, causing the unicorn to stumble back a step. Rarity gasped at the sight and hopped up out of her seat.

“The only reason Trixie came to this cursed hole in the ground was to see you! Not to worry about ponies that hate my guts, not to get into arguments in the middle of town, and not to get attacked by rodents!” Trixie emphasized each of her points with a forceful stamp of her hoof. Starlight rubbed the spot on her chest where Trixie hit her, a pained and confused look of shock contorted across her face. A pang of guilt rushed through Trixie, but the adrenaline of pent-up frustration overwhelmed it as she continued. “All I wanted was to spend time with you. Go on a picnic, fly kites, practice magic! Anything! But instead, I was forced into spending time with your friends that actively hate Trixie – that hate me!”

“Hate you?” Starlight repeated, sharing a perplexed glance with Rarity. “Trixie, I’m sure Rarity and the others don’t–”

“Let me finish,” Trixie snarled, cutting off Starlight’s attempts to calm down her friend. “I know they all hate me. It’s not as if I don’t understand why. I’ve made horrible, horrible mistakes. I've wronged them – all of them. By Celestia, if I was in their horseshoes, I’d hate me too! I’ve tried to move on from my past, but they won’t let me. If they see me, they'll scowl and sneer and spit on my name.”

“That’s not true, and you know it!” Starlight raged back in defense of her friends.

"But it is Starlight. Just think about today and how everypony acted when I came up. In the market, your farmer friend immediately blamed me and assumed I did the very worst! Not that you helped with your half-truths. Would it have even mattered if I told her exactly what she wanted to hear?" Trixie pointed at a window that viewed the now deserted Ponyville market. She let her question linger in the air. Starlight opened her mouth to respond, but her words died in her throat.

"How about that pegasus – the quiet yellow one? Did you see her eyes? How they started darting around, looking for a way out?" At this point, Starlight was tearing up. The constant barrage of abuse from her best friend taking its toll. "Even if she didn't order her pets to attack me, she didn’t even hesitate to come and help me. Instead, she ran off after her stupid animals!”

“That’s quite enough!” Rarity barged into the argument and threw herself between Starlight and Trixie, breaking the line of sight between the two. “I will not stand idly by while you rant and belittle my friends!”

“And then there’s you,” Trixie seethed with a scowl. She ripped her eyes away from Starlight to glare at Rarity. She had to take a step back at the intensity in Trixie’s eyes. “I know your type. You act so proper, so formal. You act like I’m your friend. But it’s a mask. A lie. At least the rest of the decency to show how much they don’t like me to my face.”

"If I hated you so much – as you claim I do – then why would I fix your cape?" Rarity shouted back. She jabbed a hoof at the cape, still resting on her sewing machine. "Or why would I do it for free?"

"Because you're not doing it for me! You're doing it for Starlight. A pony you actually call a friend." Trixie snarled, looking away with a snort. "A pony who has earned your redemption and forgiveness. Not me."

Starlight was staring wide-eyed through Rarity, directly at Trixie. Her eyes shimmered with tears. She couldn’t believe what Trixie was saying about her friends, the friends that Starlight owed so much of her newfound life to. The endless wave of insults towards them was too much for her to bear.

With a choking sob, Starlight turned away and galloped for the exit.

Both Rarity and Trixie watched the crying mare flee the boutique. The weight of the situation finally dawned on Trixie. Guilt flooded her senses like a broken dam. “Starlight?! Wait!” she called after, but it was too late as the door to the shop slammed shut.

A pregnant silence overtook the boutique, save only for Trixie’s heavy breathing. The adrenaline that fueled her tirade subsided, replaced with worry and dread that made her sick to her stomach. She replayed the argument in her head, remembering the vitriol and venom in her words slapped Trixie back down to earth. Her legs felt heavy, and she collapsed onto her haunches. She wondered why, of all the ponies for her to snap at, why did it have to be Starlight?

Rarity, for her part, studied the floor and let her anger melt away, allowing her regrets to fester. She answered Trixie’s rage with her own and left Starlight to fend off the distress that was blatantly growing inside her. Thoughts of what she could have done, or should have done, ate at her consciousness. Knowing her own fault in this tore the mare apart. Tears swelled and collected in her eyes, her breathing becoming more sniffled with each second. Rarity pulled a few tissues from a box on her work desk and gently dabbed them under her eyes.

Neither mare wanted to break the silence. But the longer this went on, the more Trixie knew she needed to be the first to say something. This was her mess, after all. Trixie stood up and turned around to talk to Rarity but found her gaze falling to the floor before she could even begin. With a dry, airy gulp, Trixie swallowed her nerves as best she could.

"What does Trixie owe you?" She asked with a weak gesture toward her cape still resting in the sewing machine. Rarity glanced up from the floor. A spark of anger threatened to reignite her rage.

"Owe me?" Rarity spat. "I should charge you double – no, triple – for this." With her magic, Rarity pulled the cape out from under her machine's needle. The gash was mended, and the fix looked identical to the ones Trixie had previously made. "More than that, I should shred this apart and throw you out of my home." The cloak tightened, the sound of cloth going taut echoed through the shop. Trixie watched her cape in horror, waiting for the inevitable. "But I won't. I said I would do it for free, and I will."

Trixie breathed a sigh of relief as the cape was refolded, a small weight coming off her shoulders – before her cloak was unceremoniously thrown at her head. The magician yelped and stumbled back several steps, her cape posting itself on her hat like a flag. Pulling the fabric off her head, Trixie looked over her stagewear to ensure the rough treatment it just received hadn't damaged it further. When her eyes reached the newly patched hole, she paused. A cold knot in her stomach formed just looking at it.

“There,” Rarity spat as she trotted past, heading for the main entrance. “Your cape is fixed. Now leave. Carousel Boutique is closing for the night.”

For a moment, Rarity thought she was being ignored. Trixie stared at the repairs, embracing the sickly pain in her stomach. With a defeated sigh, she complied and threw her cape over her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled past the disgusted shop owner and out into the now cold night. Just after she passed the threshold to the outside world, Trixie turned around. She couldn’t quite look Rarity in the eyes, but she did her best to avoid staring at the ground.

“Thank you,” Trixie’s voice was quiet and subdued. She didn’t wait for a response, turning away with her nose to the ground. Fluttershy, when she and Rarity first met, was the first thing that came to mind. It was bizarre seeing Trixie acting this way, so defeated and ashamed. But, it gave Rarity a small spark of hope that things could still work out.

“Trixie,” Rarity called and said mare half-turned to look back. “Do you know why I was surprised to see you and Starlight this evening?”

Trixie winced at Starlight’s name, and her eyes dropped to the dirt. Rarity waited for an answer, but one didn’t come. Trixie wasn’t sure she would have been able to vocalize one now anyway. Her throat was dry and felt like it was being wrapped by a snake. But, she had practically been screaming at both Rarity and Starlight only a few minutes ago. It was only fair that she be subjected to her own verbal lashing this time. With a tired sigh, Rarity continued.

“Fine, don’t answer. Just listen to what I have to say.” Rarity looked up at the moon with a small smile. “I was surprised because a few months ago, Starlight and I made plans to go to Baltimare for a few days. The yearly Baltimare Kite Flying Festival began this morning, she was quite excited to attend. I was more than happy to go along; I had been meaning to plan a trip that way for some time.

“When Starlight learned you were coming by –” Rarity shrugged her shoulders and looked back at Trixie, “– she canceled our trip. Not asked. She chose. She chose to spend that time with you, above all else. Was I disappointed? Sure. But I wasn’t upset. Starlight cares an awful lot about you; she sees you as her best friend. She makes sacrifices with me – with all of our friends – to make sure all of her friendships are strong.

"Just as she makes sacrifices, so do I. Friendship is about giving and taking. No one pony can sustain a relationship for two," Rarity said, sighing at the end and shaking her head. "That's how I know you’re wrong. I never agreed to fix your cape for free because Starlight was the one asking. It's your cape. Trixie, I wanted to help you. Maybe we can't be the best of friends, but I can at least put a hoof forward and try to be more than enemies."

Trixie’s devastated expression had finally softened into a thoughtful one. During Rarity’s speech, Trixie glanced up and followed her gaze towards the sky. The meaning and intent behind the mare's words were not lost on the magician. Sacrifice? Beneath the ever-present glow of the moon, Trixie felt small and powerless to fix her mistakes. What could she ever give up to fix this?

“You wanted to know how you can repay me?” Rarity's question snapped Trixie free from her trance. Through her now blurry vision, she gaped at the fashionista. “You can pay me back by thinking about what I said and how much you have sacrificed to keep your friendships strong.”

The dam Trixie’s eyes finally shattered, the falling tears sparkled in the moonlight. Unsure of how to answer, Trixie gawked at Rarity. Anything she wanted to say died in her lungs. After a moment, Rarity turned around, flicking the tip of her tail.

“Goodnight, Trixie.” 

The door to Carousel Boutique shut, and the open sign flipped over, closing the boutique for the evening. Trixie was left alone in the night air. She stared at the door for several seconds, though they felt like hours. With a slow and shaky turn, Trixie walked back to her wagon.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A series of heavy, pounding bangs roused Mayor Mare from sleep, the thuds practically shaking her home.

The aging mare raised her head from her pillow, finding her neck stiff and sore. Her head bobbed around as she peered around the room, giving her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. Moonlight poured in from an ornate set of windows beside an equally brilliant oak door, a door which looked an awful lot like her front door.

She swept her gaze across the room again, more aware and taking in the details of the room. Pictures of her family dotted the walls, covering the old and outdated wallpaper infecting her walls. A low wooden table sat in the center of the room; an empty wine glass laid on its side, the coaster half-underneath practically falling off the edge of the table. This wasn't the mare's bedroom. She glanced down at the lumpy cushions that she was asleep on moments earlier. The forest green and faded rose floral pattern of her couch greeted her.

The couch that's in her living room.

Three measured thudding bangs rang out again, the front door vibrating with each hit. The sound reverberated in Mayor Mare's skull. Pain followed and lingered even after the noise ceased. She closed her eyes and shook her head – immediately regretting the decision as a sickening lump pulsed in the bottom of her throat. Questions swarmed Mayor Mare’s already muddled mind, but one pressed its way to the forefront of them all.

Just what in Equestria did she do yesterday?

Mayor Mare tried to picture the previous day in her mind, running through the schedule she had. All she clearly recalled were meetings. Meetings, meetings, and even more meetings. Each one blended together, her day little more than images of blurry colors running through her office. She couldn’t recall a single pony she spoke with yesterday.

The pounding on her door returned, as did the pounding at the sides of her head. Mayor Mare groaned and pulled herself free from the heavenly, lumpy couch she wished to pass out on. A wave of dizziness struck her the moment she planted all four of her hooves to the floor. She steadied herself with her coffee table, inadvertently kicking an empty bottle on the floor. Mayor Mare paused. A bottle?

She tracked the dark green bottle as it rolled along the wooden floor, stopping when it hit a small rug. The paper label faced out, back towards where it was previously lying. The silvery-blue glow of the moon illuminated the paper sleeve enough for Mayor Mare to read it; "Granny Smith’s Special Blend". New questions tugged at her. Why did she pull that one out? The Apple family only produced that brew once and never planned to again. That drink was rare – special – and Mayor Mare would never take it on a whim.

The banging on her door returned, now faster and plenty more in repetition than before. Whoever was there was getting very impatient. Mayor Mare covered her eyes with a hoof, groaning at the headache pounding deep in her head. As much as she wished otherwise, last night was a blur; trying to remember specifics of it only brought new aches upon herself. Figuring out what drove her to drink could wait until she had her morning coffee. Besides...

It’s a good thing she still has a second bottle.

The pounding on the door resumed and renewed the aching dumb beats against Mayor Mare’s head. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced out the window towards the sky – still dark and full of stars. The soft ticking of an ornate, owl-themed wall clock grabbed her attention. A quarter past five in the morning, according to the clock. She grumbled several unmentionable curses under her breath as she stumbled toward the door.

She didn't get very far. Mayor Mare managed two steps before she nearly toppled over. She gripped the arm of the couch to retain her balance. Mayor Mare groaned, the after-effects of that Nightmare-cursed bottle of sweet nectar still taking its toll on her. Tick. Tick. She wished she hadn’t taken notice of the clock. Its repetitive clicking was enough to send her head spinning. She cursed the Apple family and their divine cider for doing this to her. Tick. Tick. And also Time Turner for selling such an obnoxious device.

The assailant assaulting her front door returned with two slow, house-quaking strikes on the wooden slab. An umbrella stand beside the door rocked on its three legs before tumbling to the ground and letting its contents spill out across the floor. Tick. Tick. Mayor Mare scowled. This was getting ridiculous.

“I’m coming!” Irritation and exhaustion combined to form a tsunami of rising anger in Mayor Mare. She wasn’t sure who would come by in the middle of the night, and she didn't care. Whoever they were deserved every word of her on-coming tirade. Throwing the door open, she glared at the pony on the other side. “Now listen here! Whatever is so important can wait until Celestia raises the – Oh!”

Mayor Mare’s sleep-deprived brain caught up with her and came to a halt as she took in who was assaulting her door moments ago. A stoic stallion, clad in armor made of a deep purple metal, towered over the confused mare. His cat-like eyes bore through Ponyville’s mayor as the moonlight highlighted two leathery appendages on his back; wings. A royal guard. A night guard, to be exact. A night guard from Canterlot, to be even more distressingly exact. Ponyville didn’t have a regiment of royal guards in town. Tick. Tick. The soft, rhythmic beat of her clock made the unexpected stare-down feel as if it lasted far longer than it did.

“Mayor Mare?” the thestral guard asked with a commanding tone seeking confirmation, rather than idle curiosity. Mayor Mare blinked, her mind still racing to catch up. It ended up stalling even further behind. Illuminated by the moon, a badge on the thestral's chest glinted and caught Mayor Mare’s eye. The patch was a solid black circle, a silver crescent moon in the center. This wasn’t just a guard, this was a member of Princess Luna’s personal detachment banging down her door. This situation Mayor Mare found herself in could not get any worse.

Tick. Tick. Another pair of beats passed, and Mayor Mare realized she was still staring. She sucked down a breath full of air and reached up to tug on her collar – only to awkwardly paw at her neck. Her collar and tie were missing, probably lying on the floor somewhere. Tick. Time passed in achingly slow and uncomfortable moments. In an attempt to save face, she smoothed her mane and cleared her throat. She needed to get herself together. Tick. And hold herself together.

“I am. Is something the matter, sir?” she finally answered the question he asked. If the stallion cared about her display, he didn’t show it.

“Missive from Canterlot – by way of Princess Luna.” The guard explained, mostly out of necessity and protocol, and craned his neck around to dig through the saddlebag on his left flank. One of Mayor Mare’s eyebrows raised up – Tick – while the other violently twitched.

A letter? From Princess Luna? The mayor was in constant correspondence with Princess Celestia, but she struggled to remember the last time the other diarch ever spoke to her. Well, other than on Nightmare Nig–

Tick. Tick.

Mayor Mare silently whipped her head around to glare at the clock – daring it to make another sound. Her previous rage, once directed at the guard, now resided in her hatred of that clock. Tick. Tick. Her left eye twitched, the boldness of her clock was equally impressive and infuriating.

"Ma'am," the guard’s said with a muffled voice, the thinly-veiled exasperation lacing his tongue demanded Mayor Mare’s attention.

A twinge of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Mayor Mare turned away from her wall clock, finding the guard carrying a rolled-up scroll limply in his mouth. The dark blue band binding it together signified that it was, indeed, from Princess Luna. One of the stallion’s bat-like wings came around to take the scroll from his mouth and hold it out in front of him.

Mayor Mare took the scroll with her teeth, and the guard saluted her with one of his wings. He took a few paces back before pouncing into the air and beginning his flight back to Canterlot. Mayor Mare followed the guard out of her home to watch the guard leave. The falling moon glinted off the guard’s armor as he vanished into the star-filled sky.

Mayor Mare turned around and trotted back inside. What could be so important that it needed to be hoof-delivered in the middle of the night? Thoughts of what the letter entailed intrigued, so much so her senses dulled and the pain in her head subsided.

Tick. Tick.

For a time, at least.

She dropped the letter onto a nearby end table – so she didn’t accidentally grind her teeth and damage the letter. Thankfully, the moon gave enough light for Mayor Mare to read with. Tick. Tick. The mayor repressed the rage pooling in the back of her mind as she opened and scanned the sealed missive. Cold fatigue flooded over the still waking mare as she read. Her eyes unfocused on the page when she reached the end, a personal signature from Princess Luna. Her jaw fell slightly ajar as she processed the letter. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Click.

Mayor Mare snapped her jaw shut, audibly clicking her teeth in the process. Now she remembered yesterday. Tick. Tick. Her neck cracked as she whipped around to stare at the doorway to her kitchen. She remembered what brought her to drinking that cider. Tick. Tick. Moments later, her eyes fell to the discarded bottle of cider she entertained last night, now laying at her hooves. If the princess's letter was anything to go by, she wanted to make sure she couldn't remember today. Tick. Tick. Now the clock had her full attention, and this time Mayor Mare had no intention of letting off the hook. Twilight can handle Ponyville’s problems for one day. Mayor Mare had her own plans. Tick. Tick.

She stomped up to the clock and stood on her hind legs, supporting herself against the wall with her forelegs. Tick. Tick. She bit into the thin string above the clock that secured it around a nail in the wall. Tick. Tick. Ti –

Mayor Mare dropped the clock from her wall, eternally ceasing the cursed ticking noise. Splintering wood smothered the clock’s final heartbeat as it crashed on the ground. Dropping to the ground herself, she released a deep sigh of relief.

Silence prevailed, and Mayor Mare relished in it. No ticks. No tocks. Just silence. With a new skip in her step, Mayor Mare trotted into her kitchen.

It was a good thing she had a second bottle.





The comforting scent of cinnamon-infused candles wafted through the air, the wisps of smoke swirling and flowing around as Starlight paced circles through her bedroom. Her eyes carved an invisible path into the floor that she rounded over and over again. She’d been at this for hours, her mind clouded with questions and frustrations. Thoughts of Trixie and the fight they had clawed at her like a wild animal, its teeth made up of memories of the day prior. Trixie’s casually insulting Sugarcube Corner, the fight in the market, Fluttershy’s squirrels tearing a hole in Trixie’s cape; each one nibbled at her.

Starlight stopped and shook her head. It didn’t make sense. This fight between them cut much deeper than any other before, and Starlight couldn’t figure out why. Starlight and Trixie had arguments and disagreements before. They both were at fault at times, but they always got through it together. But this time, the fight seemed out of nowhere. What even set Trixie off in the first place? Was it her? All Starlight wanted was for Trixie and her friends to get along. The unicorn turned around and resumed her pace, now going counter-clockwise.

She wasn’t blind to the fact Trixie and the girls had issues in the past. It was something Starlight and Trixie bonded over in the first place. But, what made those issues a problem today? As far as Starlight knew, everypony was able to get along. Pinkie Pie and Rarity didn’t react poorly to seeing Trixie – or at least not until Trixie did something to upset them – and Fluttershy could be skittish at the best of times. Applejack… well, Applejack could have just been having a bad day. She’d been having a lot of those lately; maybe the heat? Straight bit the inside of her cheek, a stray thought coming to the forefront of her mind.

Mid-stride, she peeled off from her pace towards her nightstand. With her magic, she lifted a photo of her friends – a memento that Twilight gave her. It was an old picture from when Twilight first moved to Ponyville well before she ascended to alicornhood. It was such an odd sight – Twilight without her wings – but it was probably weirder for the rest of her friends to get used to the idea of her with them. Twilight sat in the very center of the image, all five of her friends crowding around her, posing for the shot in their own unique ways. How Rarity managed to stay still like that with Pinkie’s hoof through her mane, Starlight could only guess. She flipped the photograph over, a small note written on the back.

Never forget what’s important.

The same message Twilight told her when she received the photo. She said it with a weight and seriousness that was uncharacteristically deep, purpose laced into each word. Starlight sighed. She hoped the advice would spark something in her – understanding, anything – and help her figure this out. But it just wasn’t. She hadn’t forgotten what was important; friendship and her friends. She hadn’t forgotten the lessons she’d learned since coming to Ponyville. She returned the photograph to its rightful place beside her bed, gazing at the picture a moment longer. It looked empty. Ponies and creatures who belonged – deserved – to be in that picture were not there. She’d need to fix that one day; getting a picture with all of her friends, smiling and happy to be there with each other.

Starlight’s eyebrows fell as her face tightened into a frown. There it was again. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what. The more she thought about her friends, the more she realized something was amiss. Whatever it was, was right there. Like it was just on the tip of her tongue but refused to come out. She focused her eyes on the faces of her friends. Smiles. She hadn’t seen them smiling as much recently – in fact, she hadn’t seen any of them at all recently.

Everypony was so busy; Rarity was nose deep into taking care of her various businesses, and Fluttershy was the only pony maintaining her sanctuary. Applejack had a lot of work on the farm to take care of, ensuring the crops would be fine during the heatwave. Each of them had an important business to run and, sometimes, needed to take some time to maintain them. That all made sense and Starlight understood why none of them had much time to spare. But, even Rainbow Dash and Twilight were constantly occupied now.

Rainbow, normally slacking or napping during her off days (and sometimes on), was almost always in the air flying. Just flying. Not training or practicing for anything related to the Wonderbolts. Just aimlessly flying, usually so high in the sky that nopony could call out to her. If she wasn’t doing that, she was staying on top of the weather. If there was a stray cloud from the Everfree, it’d be blown away by Rainbow. Dry grass? Isolated raincloud to rehydrate the land. Starlight had never seen Rainbow so dedicated to the weather team. It wasn’t a problem, just unusual. But that didn’t hold a candle compared to Twilight.

After everypony returned home from the Storm King’s invasion, Twilight secluded herself away from her friends. Not entirely, of course, but Starlight found it noticeable. On the increasingly rare occasion where she did break out of her newly formed shell, Twilight would hold herself to a strict schedule. Leaving on time the moment she penned in, oftentimes mentioning she had “princess duties” to attend to or that she needed to work on the curriculum for her school. It was almost as if she wanted to be anywhere else but with her friends. Twilight wasn’t acting like the pony that Starlight had come to know. But, she could tell that the Storm King and the adventure her friends endured against him had put a heavy strain on her mentor. If Twilight wanted space after that, she could have it. Starlight had no intention of pressing the issue. 

Pinkie Pie was… well, as normal as Pinkie Pie ever could be. She was just as bubbly and excitable as always and constantly had some fun scheme hidden in her mane. Both she and Spike were the only ones acting semi-normal these days.

Again, Starlight diverted her circular course, walking to her bed. Part of her body flopped onto the mattress, her face in the fresh, lavender-scented sheets while her hind legs dangled over the edge. Closing her eyes, Starlight sighed and rubbed her face deeper into the bedding. Where did this train of thought even lead her? Everypony was having a bad day, and that's what set Trixie off? That didn’t feel right. Trixie’s complaints were not some spontaneous surface-level thoughts, they arose from deep in her heart. Feelings that she was clinging to for a long time before now. She wouldn't have had those opinions about Rarity otherwise. The questions still remained; what agitated Trixie so much, and who was she upset with?

She was getting nowhere like this. Starlight was chasing her thoughts in endless loops. At this rate, the unicorn would drive herself mad with worry if she didn’t try something different. But what? She had no intention of giving up and letting Trixie stew in misery alone. Starlight wished she could just go and ask for a straight answer, but she didn’t expect Trixie to be in much of a talkative mood. Not that she could blame her, that’s the same reason she came straight to bed when she got home. She didn’t want to burden Spike or Twilight with her emotion-fueled ranting.

Starlight raised her head, twisting her neck around to peer at the picture once again resting on her nightstand. There’s an idea. She wasn’t the distraught bull stampeding around she was a few hours ago. If there was anypony she could talk this friendship problem out with, it would be Twilight Sparkle.

The unicorn squirmed and shuffled her way out of bed, no time like the present, after all. It was already very late and if she wanted to try and catch Twilight before she fell asleep, now was the time. She extinguished the candle with her magic as she trotted out the door.

Her pace was quick, purpose driving her. The cold and empty hallways of the castle carried the sound of her half-gallop half-trot from top to bottom and back again. She was antsy, and the noise only accentuated how alone she was with her thoughts. At least in her room, the familiar decore and ambiance could accompany her. Not even the rug running along the floor could provide any comfort. These halls were barren and lifeless, letting the clicks of her hooves reverberate endlessly. She walked these floors hundreds of times by now, and never had they felt so maddeningly long.

Over the sounds of her hooves, Starlight heard a door swing open elsewhere in the castle. The tell-tale sound of a door clicking shut came moments later, accompanied by a sigh of relief. Even with such a small snippet, Starlight knew who the voice belonged to. Starlight heard the crisp sound of claws and scales dragging along stone, a small purple and green body emerging from around the corner ahead of her.

“Spike!” Starlight greeted the dragon with a bright smile, happy to see anything other than the same dull shades of blue and purple. Any friendly face was able to brighten her spirits right about now. Spike glanced around, surprised by the pony calling his name. When his gaze finally came upon Starlight, he lazily waved.

“Hey, Starlight.” Spike’s greeting was noticeably less enthusiastic. His shoulders sagged, and he continued to slink away. Starlight paused mid-step. Whatever was going on with Spike was a bad sign.

“Everything alright?” she voiced, catching up and following a step behind the dragon.

“Just Twilight being Twilight,” Spike groaned, pulling at his face, “you know how it is.” He stopped and grabbed the handle to his bedroom door, turning to face Starlight properly. “She hasn’t freaked out about Pinkie Pie in a long time, or at least not this bad. I’m giving up. If she wants to stay up all night worrying her tail off about why Pinkie Pie is doing something, she can go ahead.” Spike pulled open the door, adding; “Sorry, I’m just exhausted. Goodnight, Starlight.” And with that, he stepped inside his bedroom and shut the door.

Well, that doesn’t bode well, Starlight thought to herself. Twilight throwing herself into a problem was nothing new. For being such a cautious and forward-thinking pony, she had a habit of grossly overthinking solutions. The kind of pony who’d either try to cross a river by building a makeshift bridge or by jumping in headfirst – only to find a shallow crossing point a few steps away. Usually, Spike would be the one pointing her in the right direction. If he’s fed up with helping Twilight, then what could Starlight do to help? And why was Pinkie Pie involved? Again.

Starlight sighed and took a deep breath, slowly letting it go. Between her own problems, Trixie’s everything, and now Twilight’s something, there just wasn’t enough time in the day to sort it all out. Dealing with everything at once was out of the question. Even if it was, Starlight was already far too stressed out figuring out her own problems to worry about solving anypony else’s. She needed help, and there was only one pony who could right now. And that pony was Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle. A pony that was also stressed, overwhelmed, and struggling to solve her own problems.

Just like Starlight was.

All the air escaped Starlight’s lungs, the weight of the day leaping onto her back. Breathlessly, Starlight bemoaned her luck. Of all the days she needed Twilight’s advice… At least for tonight, Starlight was on her own. Sluggishly, she walked back to her own room. As endless the walk to Twilight’s room was the first time, the defeated walk back to her own felt even longer.

Had Starlight’s head been less clouded, she may have heard the faint clattering of somepony creeping around downstairs.





Trixie laid in the grass beside her wagon, watching the smoke from her campfire drift and dissipate into the night sky. She sniffled. It’d been hours since she left Rarity’s shop, hours since she was reminded how terrible a pony she was – is. As much as she wished for it, sleep would not be her savior on this night. From her hammock, minutes turned to hours as she tossed and turned, unable to get a moment’s peace.

There was just too much on her mind.

Eventually, she gave up on sleep and lit a small campfire outside her wagon. She found little comfort in watching the embers cinder and burn the sticks until nothing remained but ashes and rising smoke. Her cape, which she would normally wrap herself in to stay warm on a cold night, was lying on the floor of her wagon. She couldn’t bring herself to wear the cloak, perhaps for the best. The night air wasn't that cold. But Trixie felt cold.

The showmare thought of her actions earlier in the day (or was it the day prior now?) and sulked into the grass. Was she wrong about those ponies? It didn’t feel like she was, but there was an ache in her chest just thinking about it all. They did hate her, right? Trixie rubbed at the dry and crusty stains on her cheeks.

Stupid Starlight and her stupider friends.

Everything Rarity said the night prior came flooding back, the tidal wave of emotions causing Trixie to plop her head into the grass, face first. Sacrifices. Friendship. It’s supposed to be easy, so why isn’t it?

Rarity was one of those Elements of Harmony, right? As far as Equestria was concerned, Rarity was a shining beacon of morality to keep us all on track. So why did she need to treat friendship like it was life and death? So right or wrong? Trixie slammed a hoof into the dirt; it didn’t need to be this difficult. Rarity – all of them – all they did was preach about friendship and forgiveness. Discord’s antics were overlooked. Starlight was redeemed. Why couldn’t she?

Trixie made her mistakes; she wronged them in the past. Could they really still hold a grudge just because she humiliated them during her show? It's her job to be mesmerizing – to be great. It wasn’t her fault that ponies wanted to believe her claims and see them first-hoof. Trixie’s cheek twitched at the memory. She paid her price for that already. Trying to show the ponies of this town how great she is, how powerful she is – was. That led her to her greatest mistake. Just thinking about that purchase made her fur stand on end.

That… thing, still occasionally whispered in the back of her mind, Trixie was sure of it.

The sounds of suddenly nearby hoof-falls altered Trixie that somepony else was awake and very close by. At this hour, she had no idea who it could be. Her ears twitched towards the noises. Whoever they were, they were on the dirt path just in front of Twilight’s castle. But, where did they come from? She hadn’t heard them approach, and Trixie was certainly not that deaf. Hooves never were the stealthiest appendages around, so how did they get so close without her noticing?

The sounds of steps changed, a noticeably higher-pitched click compared to the deeper one a moment prior. Hooves on stone? Must be the castle steps, Trixie surmised. A light tapping noise echoed into the night air. Knocking on the door at this hour? No, that wasn't it. The beat wasn’t deep enough nor did it sound hard enough if the point was to wake anypony up. So, what was it?

The mystery pony took a few steps away, the bassier sound of hooves on dirt returning. Then, they were gone. They didn’t fade away, like a pony walking away would sound. The noise was just gone. Now Trixie was really curious. Who, or what, was making that noise, and where did they go?

Trixie stood up, breaking into a quick trot around the corner of the castle. The glint of something vanishing into the night sky as she rounded to the front steps. A pegasus? That didn’t add up; she never heard any wing flaps. Whatever was at the steps was now long gone, and with it, Trixie's concerns vanished too. What a waste of her time. Trixie scowled and side-eyed the front door to the castle; Twilight Sparkle’s castle. She blew a lock of hair out of her face at the thought. Even after all this time, Trixie still camped out in the shadow of Twilight Sparkle.

At one point, Trixie hated that mare. She was jealous of her and sought revenge for her own shortcomings. Had they made up? Sure, sort of. Twilight had a difficult time accepting it, but she did. Or, at least, said she did. These days, the two of them never said much to each other beyond idle pleasantries. But, Twilight often complimented Trixie on her shows when she managed to catch them. That was more than any of the others in that friend group gave Trixie, but… 

No, they weren’t friends. They never would be friends. How much of Twilight's hospitality was because of Starlight and the friendship she and Trixie had? It all became clear to Trixie.

Twilight was just like those so-called beacons of morality. In fact, she was the worst offender of them all. Princess of Friendship. A lofty title built on pretentious self-righteousness. When Trixie and Starlight first met, Twilight – Princess of Friendship – refused to accept that the two of them were friends. Who was she to determine the merits and requirements of true friendship? Because she saved Equestria? Trixie saved Equestria and the Changelings, and that still wasn’t enough for them. They all still see Trixie as a monster to despise? A pony whose past transgressions will forever drag her, and those around her, down to the depths of Tartarus? Fine. She’ll play her part.

Trixie stomped up the door, ripping the note from the nail. She unlodged the metal spike with her magic, flinging it into a nearby bush. Her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched up, her scowl even uglier than before as she stared at the letter. Rarity wants to see Trixie make sacrifices? She’ll show her.

Trixie will make her sacrifice, and it’ll be bigger and greater than any other. As only the Great and Powerful Trixie ever could.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first rays of Celestia’s morning sun beamed across Ponyville, the alleviating coolness of night fleeing across the horizon. Townsfolk shuffled out of their homes to reluctantly greet the coming summer warmth, many rushing to complete whatever errands they had before the tidal wave of humidity struck. One creature, who was not in a hurry, was Spike, still snuggling and clinging to his bedding. A stray beam of sunlight seeped through the curtains covering his bedroom window, striking a conveniently placed mirror and reflected straight to his still closed eyes.

The dragon’s nose twitched, tickled by the light. His body awoke while his mind was dragged, kicking and screaming, to consciousness. He threw his blanket over his head, pleading for sleep to return. It didn’t. He groaned, edging on a growl that only a dragon could make, and cast the warm, inviting fabric of his blanket to the floor. Spike would deal with making his bed later. Right now, he just wanted to wake up. And little else could wake him quicker than food. 

Spike rubbed at his eyes as he shambled out of his bedroom, the lingering vestiges of sleep refusing to come free. As much as he wished he could embrace the tiredness weighing him down, the dragon knew he needed to begin his day. Twilight surely stayed up for far too long last night, and her schedule would be in absolute disarray as a result. As usual, it fell on Spike to clean up his adoptive sister’s mess. Unless Starlight was able to talk Twilight out of her funk last night.

Yeah, right.

Spike passed through a T-like junction in the hallway before pausing and changing direction down the third path. He may as well check on Twilight while he was here. The dragon tip-toed up the door and pressed an ear against it, quietly waiting for any signs of life on the other side. After a brief moment, Twilight’s loud snores kicked in like a chainsaw roaring to life. That answered that then; Twilight only snored like that when she passed out during long study sessions. Very long study sessions.

It wasn’t worth it to wake his sister up right now, not without being more awake himself. Spike left Twilight alone and resumed his trek through the castle. A faint aroma wafted through the air, something bitter, burnt, and wholly unpleasant. It was a familiar scent that he could not quite place and only grew more intense with each passing step. He rounded down two sets of stairs to reach the first floor, meeting the main foyer that branched off to the other wings of the Castle of Friendship. 

An abrupt clanging of pots and ceramic plates from the doorway built under the stairs startled Spike, nearly tripping down the last few steps in surprise. He wasn’t expecting anypony else to be awake already, let alone somepony digging around in the castle’s kitchen. If it wasn’t Twilight, then it had to be Starlight. Even if he had no clue why she would be up already.

Spurred on by curiosity, Spike hastily barged into the kitchen, the door swinging against the wall with a bang. Spike had to cover his nose as the bitter smell in the air grew ten-fold, the source of it became clear. A boxy machine on the counter churned and bubbled, letting a dark concoction drip into a mug underneath. Coffee. They didn’t have much of it in the castle – Twilight preferred to rely on tea – but they did keep a few bags around. At least that explained the stench. That didn’t, however, explain what Starlight was doing.

Dozens of pots, pans, plates, and nearly every cooking utensil the castle had was levitating in the air, seized by Starlight’s magic. On the other end of the kitchen from the floating kitchenware, Starlight had her nose in a cabinet, looking way into the back and using her horn to light the cubby-hole. She never even reacted to the door slamming against the wall.

“Starlight?” Spike nasally asked, still blocking the overwhelming scent of coffee from reaching his nose. “What are you doing?”

“Su–” Starlight began, her voice croaking and breaking. She grunted and cleared her throat before trying again, “Sugar. I’m looking for sugar.”

“In the cabinet where we keep our skillets?” Spike slowly asked, ensuring Starlight heard each word. Whatever this was about could not be a good thing. He was already exhausted from helping with Twilight’s Pinkie Pie problem the night before. A problem that, Spike bitterly recalled, didn’t need to be solved. Not that his objections had a chance at stopping Twilight from trying anyway. Spike wasn’t sure he could handle even more nonsense on top.

Starlight paused and pulled her head out of the cabinet to look behind her, staring at the floating metal instruments with befuddlement. Spike’s eyebrow shot up when he caught a glimpse of her. Strands of her mane were sticking out, curling in weird places, and overall having a wild frizz to it. Redness colored around Starlight’s glossy eyes as they struggled against her eyelids. In a word, Starlight looked like a mess.

“I didn’t even realize that’s what was in there,” Starlight answered, her speech slowed and a touch slurred. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, bravely fighting to stay open. The pots and pans came together, creaking and clanging as they were collectively shoved into the cabinet in one unsuccessful push. Stubbornly, Starlight pulled them out and tried again. Despite her repeated efforts, the cabinet door refused to shut and remained propped open by several panhandles. After another two failed attempts, Starlight sighed and gave up. All Spike could do was watch the display in confusion and concern.

He was right; this was most certainly not a good thing.

“There whazhn’t–” Starlight stopped and shook her head. “There wasn’t any in the pantry. Sugar. There wasn’t any sugar.” She breathed in relief at getting through the basic sentence. Starlight walked from one end of the kitchen to the other, noticeably leaning against the counter to do so. She took the coffee mug out from under the coffee machine and took a probing sip. The moment the drink touched her tongue, she grimaced and cringed away from the steaming cup in her magical grasp. “Black coffee is terrible, Spike. Never drink it, if you can.”

Spike aimed to take that to heart, that’s for sure. He never tried coffee before and never planned to either. It smelled horrid and hearing ponies talk about the bitterness or acidity made him want to stay as far away from the stuff as possible. How Starlight could stomach it, especially considering how she looked right now, Spike had no idea.

"You okay, Starlight?" he asked, privately hoping he was wrong to worry.

"Tired." As if on cue, Starlight yawned. Her whole body wobbled from side to side as her head rolled back, the kitchen counter the only thing preventing her from collapsing to the floor. Tired was right; she looked dead on her hooves. "I'll be fine soon. Coffee will help."

"How much sleep did you get last night? I've never seen you so exhausted," Spike inquired while keeping a wary eye locked on the mare he was sharing the kitchen with. As much as he wanted to start working on breakfast, Starlight’s current condition was more pressing at the moment.

Again, Starlight yawned, tears leaking from the edges of her eyes. “I didn’t,” she said when she regained control of her body, taking another small swig of the coffee. She reacted to the strong taste instantly, eyebrows raising for a moment before dropping back into place. Starlight shook her head and grumbled unintelligible complaints.

"Well, that'll do it." It was Spike’s turn to shake his head, running his claws along the sides of his face in annoyance. Twilight and Starlight were spending way too much time together; the two of them were picking up habits from each other. And never any of the good ones, too. If Spike was blindfolded and had to listen to both of them voice their worries, one after the other, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. 

However, there was something that Starlight said that interested Spike. Beside the kitchen door was a step-stool, and he dragged it with him as he strode up to a tall double-doored cabinet that sat on the corner of the kitchen. "If you're looking for sugar –" Spike opened the pantry and stood atop his stool "– it's right… here?"

Much to Spike’s confusion, the bag of sugar he was reaching for was gone. He blinked a few times, just to confirm it wasn’t a trick of his still-waking eyes. Just as meticulously as he maintained the library shelves, Spike organized the pantry. As the castle’s resident chef, he knew what they had in storage. He and Twilight had gone shopping only a few days ago, and a bag of sugar was on that list. 

He turned around, eyeing the countertops. He wanted to make sure Starlight didn't fish the bag out and forget about it. Sleep deprivation could turn an average pony's attention span into one of a newborn foal. Starlight already displayed that. Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case; the countertops were clean, save for the coffee maker. Unfortunately, that meant there was a wild bag of sugar on the loose. Chef Spike couldn't afford such an oversight and vowed to find it and return it to its rightful place in the pantry.

Or, they could just buy a replacement. It's just a bag of sugar, after all.

A series of rapid knocks coming from the front door pulled Spike back to the present. Both Starlight and Spike looked at each other, silently asking each other the same unspoken question. Who in Equestria was here at this hour?

Starlight sighed and motioned for Spike to stay. "I'll get it," she murmured. Starlight dragged her hooves across the floor as she shuffled out of the kitchen, her still-steaming mug following just behind her. Spike had no issue with that plan; dealing with whoever was at the door would, hopefully, help her wake up. He had a breakfast to start anyway.

Spike returned his attention to the pantry and scanned the shelves as he considered his breakfast options. It was a shame they were out of sugar; Spike was craving pancakes this morning and was ready to bust out his homemade mix. Without any sugar, it just wasn’t possible. A shame, but it wasn’t worth fussing over; he had plenty of other ideas. He hopped off his platform and shoved it aside to scan the bottom-most shelf, his eyes finding the bag he was looking for; rolled oats.

Oatmeal wasn’t his ideal breakfast of choice, but he always relished the opportunity to prepare a warm meal. Twilight theorized he was naturally attracted to the heat of a kitchen. It made some sense; other dragons bathed in literal pools of lava. Dragons like heat and kitchens could produce a lot of it. But Spike didn’t care about that; for him, he just liked to cook.

Repositioning his step stool, he hopped back atop it. His eyes immediately looked into the small alcove built on the next shelf up, a cubby meant for all their seasonings. He had just the idea to make this breakfast pop. Oatmeal was fine on its own, but why not add something else to make the flavor jump out? A few tablespoons of cinnamon would surely do the trick. All he needed to do was find the shaker.

“Garlic powder. Bagel seasoning. Basil. Crushed gems…” he rattled off spices based on their color as he moved them around. He really needed to reorganize the seasonings they had. It was a jumbled mess, but he knew what they had. Just not where they had everything. “...black pepper. Lemon pepper. Red pepper.” Spike flicked the last shaker to the side to reveal… nothing at all.

That’s odd, Spike thought to himself as he drummed his claws against the shelf.

Nopony else in the castle had much use for ground cinnamon beside him. He must have missed it the first time and dug through the seasonings he shoved off to the other side, this time taking his time and checking every label. As he investigated, Spike came across something unexpected. Not only was his ground cinnamon missing, but so were his containers of ground ginger and allspice.

All his search did was provide more questions. First, their bag of sugar vanished, and now several of his seasonings were missing too. Somepony could have used up all his spices, but he would have known about that possibility long in advance. Spike knew they had everything that had gone missing; otherwise, he would have added these missing spices to the grocery list.

“What?!” Starlight cried from the castle entrance, her ceramic mug thudding and shattering against the ground a moment later.

Spike instantly jumped down from his mini-perch and ran out of the kitchen. The missing groceries could wait; something else far more important was going on.

The sharp clicks of hooves pacing on the stone floors greeted him the moment he left the kitchen as did a new voice fill the halls. "Yeah! That's why I need Twilight down here, pronto." The new mare's voice was distinctly accented, very southern and familiar. Yet, the pony it belonged to sounded anything but friendly. Spike moved as quickly as his stubby prepubescent dragon legs would take him. Which, thankfully, wasn't very far.

He rounded several corners and joined Starlight and their unexpected guest – Applejack. She paced back and forth with heavy steps that sounded like the floor was cracking beneath each one. Starlight was fixated on the other mare with eyes the width of a needle. She covered her mouth with a hoof in blatant shock.

Spike rushed up beside Starlight, stepping around the pool of coffee and mug shards. "Applejack? What's going on?" his voice wavered as he asked. Whatever Applejack told Starlight had frozen her in place.

Applejack’s gaze snapped to Spike. She snorted and glared at him before parroting the question, "'What's going on?'" Her tail flicked behind her, lacking the normal tie she kept in it. "What ain't going on is more like it! Somepony ransacked the farm last night!"

It was Spike’s turn to cover his mouth. The idea of thieves in Ponyville was bad enough on its own. But stealing from the Apple family? That’s terrifying. If the local guard didn’t find the criminals first, Applejack and the rest of her family were stubborn enough to tear the whole town apart to track them down.

"Is everypony at the farm alright?" Starlight asked, finally gathering herself to speak again.

"We're fine," Applejack spat. "Everypony's a bit shook up, is all. Granny took it the hardest. Can’t say I’ve seen her so angry." She looked back out the still-open front door and took a shaky breath. Talking about her family’s safety helped calm her down a bit. "Told Mac to hold down the fort at home and keep Granny from running off on a wild hog chase."

Knowing that the Apple family was safe took a weight off Spike’s shoulders. But he couldn't help but wonder about the final member of the Apple clan, "What about Apple Bloom? You didn’t mention her."

"She and I went out to gather the rest of the girls," Applejack explained, her brow furrowed again. "We spent who-knows how long looking for Rainbow Dash before giving up and moving on to everypony else. We split up and planned to meet –" she tapped the floor "– right here.

"Which is why," Applejack began as her fiery anger returned, "I need to go get Twilight and drag her down here!" The apple farmer stamped a hoof against the ground to emphasize her point. Spike flinched and took a step away. He’d never seen Applejack this enraged before, and it seemed she didn’t care who it was directed at.

“Applejack,” Starlight said as she moved to her friend’s side, “relax. Alright? I know you’re mad, but stomping around like a manticore isn’t going to help anything.” She placed a foreleg around Applejack’s shoulders, pulling her into a sideways hug.

“I ain’t got the time to relax!” Applejack pushed Starlight away and broke out of the embrace, snarling at her friend. “Somepony broke in and stole from Sweet Apple Acres – my home. I’m not about to let them off the hook!”

Somehow, today is worse than yesterday, Spike thought as he wrung his claws.

Applejack’s rage-filled gaze flipped to Spike, burning a hole through him. “You wanna tell me if Twilight’s awake,” she growled, her voice dropping to a teeth-clenched whisper, “or do I need to go up there and get her myself?” Applejack was a pony who wore her emotions on her chest like a badge; she wasn’t what one would call quiet. This time? This time she was quiet, and that put a fear in Spike that only Sombra had done.

“Applejack, please,” Spike pleaded as he stepped back, pumping his claws in a calming motion. The enraged farmer matched each of his steps away with one of her own. The dragon tripped – tumbling to his back – but Applejack continued to close in on him until she towered over the cowering dragon. “I’ll go get Twilight!" he blurted as he began hyperventilating, hoping that was enough to soothe Applejack’s anger. "Okay? You’re scaring me, AJ. Please, just calm down!”

Starlight had seen enough; she refused to let this go on any longer. Her magic enveloped her horn and Applejack’s tail as she yanked the earth pony away from Spike. The unexpected tug caused the earth pony to stumble onto her belly and expel all the air from her lungs. Her head swiveled to look over her shoulder, making eye contact with Starlight.

"Applejack, can be as livid as you want," Starlight commanded her friend's attention with her furious tone, "but I won't let you threaten anypony – especially not our friends!"

Being thrown to the ground and screamed at gave Applejack reason to pause. Spike took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and flee from the rampaging pony who was bearing down on him moments prior. Applejack’s ear twitched at the scraping sound of Spike’s claws against the floor. She returned her attention to her quarry, only to watch as the small dragon scurried behind Starlight. Applejack blinked multiple times, working out how the situation got her here on the ground.

Her ears pinned back as she winced, cold realization washing over Applejack. She looked through Starlight at Spike, who peaked around the unicorn. Never before had he been so terrified of one of his friends. He had no clue as to what to think or how to act; all he could do was shiver behind Starlight. 

"Spike," the humiliated farmer cooed, her voice just above a whisper. Spike cautiously poked his head out further. "I'm sorry – really sorry," sincerity laced her voice. "I just… No, I let… The farm –" Applejack sputtered, trying to put an explanation into words. She gave up with a sigh and dropped her head, resting her chin on the floor. "I'm sorry."

An uncomfortable silence overtook the hallway, save for the sounds of nature drifting in through the still-open front door. Spike mulled over Applejack’s apology. He wanted to accept it and move on. Somepony breaking into the farm while she and her family were asleep was terrifying, and maybe she was being irrational because of it. But between her posture and her tone when she came in, Applejack didn’t come to the castle to ask for help. She threatened him. It wasn’t something that friends could just move on from at the drop of a hat.

Spike let out the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding in. One of Applejack’s ears flicked at the sound as she bit her bottom lip. She was waiting for him to answer, tense and nervous.

“Applejack, it’s alright we’ll–”

“No, it’s not, Spike,” Starlight cut in, glaring behind her at the dragon. “It’s not alright for a pony to push another around like that. As much as I'd like us to sort that out now, we’ve got more important things to worry about.” She turned her attention back to Applejack, who shrunk under her gaze and looked away. “We can talk about how you were acting later. For now, if a thief is running around Ponyville, we should get to the bottom of it and put a stop to them, first and foremost. What was stolen from the farm? It might give us a clue, and it’ll be something we can tell Twilight when we wake her up.”

“Buncha random stuff from the kitchen, far as I can tell,” Applejack said. She slowly rose back to her hooves, finding it hard to look in the direction of Spike and Starlight for long. “I’m not sure of what it all was; Granny Smith knows what we keep in the kitchen better than I do.”

“Kitchen?” Spike asked, practically cutting off Applejack in the process.

The farmer nodded her head, finding herself able to meet the gaze of her friends for just a moment. “Yeah. Granny said our cupboards were a complete mess and out of order. Neither Mac or I could tell a difference, but she swears it was all wrong. I didn’t think anything of it ‘til I saw the tracks out the back." She craned an eyebrow at the dragon, "You got an idea, Spike?"

"Well…" Spike trailed off as he tapped his chin. "It could be nothing, but our kitchen was missing some things too. Sugar, ginger, and cinnamon. Those ring any bells?"

"Eeyup," Applejack unconsciously mimicked her brother and nodded. "Flour too, if I remember what Granny was naming off. What are you getting at here, Spike?"

Truthfully, Spike wasn’t sure. It could have been sheer coincidence that the castle's kitchen was missing baking supplies the morning after somepony raided Sweet Apple Acres' kitchen. But, it could be connected, and that planted a tiny seed of fear in the back of Spike’s mind. Fear that somepony broke into the castle last night, too. He couldn't prove it, and the evidence he already knew was circumstantial at best. It didn’t matter. The thought was there, and Spike couldn't let it go. 

"It – It’s probably nothing like I said," he managed to stammer out. The last thing Spike wanted to do was to give Starlight or Applejack reason to overreact, and at least Applejack was putting together the pieces he put out already. All Spike could do at this point was keep his fears to himself for the moment. "Applejack, help yourself to a cup of coffee if you want," Spike hastily said as he pointed down the hallway behind him, backpedaling in the same direction. "I'll go get Twilight, and we can work this out as a team. Sound good?"

"Well, I guess –"

"Great! Knew you'd agree, AJ!" He didn't wait for Applejack to finish. Spike turned on his heels and ran as quickly as he could to the staircase.