> A New Batch > by Emotion Nexus > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Muffins > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Smiles, happy faces, and lots of full mouths. That’s what Sugar Belle saw when she looked across the ponies of her village. Newly liberated from the previous town leader, Starlight Glimmer, everyone was cheering for their regained senses of self. Everyone was unique, happy, and best of all, showing off their talents for the first time in who knows how long. The residents owed their rescue to the Elements of Harmony, who had similarly joined in with the celebration. This was what she loved to see. Ponies being ponies. Although, she did also love seeing ponies enjoying her pastries. She had worked her flank off to get such a large batch done for the celebration, and judging by her fellow townsponies’ smiles, it had been well worth it. “Wow! These are amazing! How did you do it? Is there a recipe? I need to know!” the Element of Laughter begged on her knees in front of Sugar Belle, still stuffing her face with muffins. Sugar Belle giggled. “Oh, Pinkie, I don’t really know. It just sort of comes naturally to me. I just think up some ingredients and get to baking!” Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Woah. Now that’s talent if I’ve ever seen it. Even I had to perfect my triple-layer chocolate strawberry sundae. You just bake!?” “Well, not exactly. It took me a while to really get good at baking. You should’ve seen some of my earliest attempts! They were awful!” Sugar said with soft laughter, before letting out a yawn. She was more tired than she had expected. She would have to take a nap after her fellow baker left. Pinkie nodded. “Practice makes perfect after all. And I bet you those beginner muffins were way better than the stuff you whipped up a few hours ago.” Sugar blushed. “You flatter me Pinkie, but they were truly terrible.” “Still better than those cardboard ones!” Pinkie shot back. Sugar rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you that. But, you’re no slouch yourself, either. What was that you said? Triple-layer chocolate… something? Sorry, you said it so fast I could barely understand you.” “Strawberry sundae?” Pinkie asked, despite knowing the answer. “Yes, that! It sounds so creative, I could never come up with something like that.” Sugar praised. Pinkie folded her forelegs behind her back, but then fell after realizing she had nothing to lean on. Snorting with laughter, she pushed herself back up. “Hey, don’t put yourself down. Every baker has their style. Mine just happens to be a cargo load of sugar and sweets!” Sugar smiled weakly, though not for lack of enthusiasm. “Y’know, you’re smarter than you look. Er, no offense.” Pinkie waved it off. “No worries, I get that a lot.” Pinkie’s face shifted to concern as she stared at Sugar. “Uh, is that supposed to happen?” “What’s supposed to happen?” Sugar asked, confused. Pinkie pointed to Sugar Belle’s cutiemark, which pulsed red from the center and seemed to almost peel away from her flank. Sugar stared at it for several seconds, attempting to understand what was happening, before fainting. As her vision darkened, she could hear a squeaky, high-pitched voice crying for help before everything faded away. Sugar awoke abruptly, her body feeling like a Bugbear had stung her, immediately followed by numbness. It gave her whiplash, to say the least. Holding her hooves over her head and groaning, she opened her eyes to see yellow and purple blurs standing in front of her. She could make out the movement of their mouths, but she heard dead silence. A magenta flash appeared over the purple one, and suddenly all her senses came back to her. She could finally see that she was in the house that Starlight used to live in. The room was still all thrown about from the search party conducted earlier in the day. Shattered vases lay in a trash can in the corner while the table was flipped onto its side. She realized the bed she was sitting on was the one covering Starlight’s hidden tunnel. A yellow pony approached her as she took this all in. The pony she now recognized as Fluttershy put a hoof on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?” she whispered, a melodic voice that soothed her ears. Sugar blinked for several seconds before speaking. “I… what happened.?” Fluttershy looked over to Twilight with begging eyes, which Twilight met with a sigh. “We’re… trying to figure that out. Until then, we need to make sure you’re okay.” Sugar frowned, but understood. “I can’t really feel anything right now, but right before that was painful.” Twilight nodded. “Everything is going smoothly then.” She visibly relaxed. Sugar prepared to get up, but Fluttershy held her down. “I’m sorry about this, but I need you to stay here for a little longer, just to make sure you’re well and truly fine.” “Doctor’s orders?” she asked. Fluttershy nodded. “I’m no expert, but I have enough experience with animals to know when somepony should rest.” “Sounds sensible.” “If you don’t mind Sugar Belle, is there anything you can recall?” Twilight asked, grabbing a notebook. Before Sugar could respond, Pinkie Pie sped into the room and hugged her tightly. So tight, in fact, that she could almost feel it. “Oh, Sugar Belle, you’re okay! I was so worried!” Pinkie cried with enough tears to fill a lake. “I thought I had done something to you to make your cutiemark do that weird red flashy thing, but you’re okay!” “It’s alright Pinkie, I- wait. Red flashy thing?” Sugar said, perplexed. “Pinkie!” Twilight whisper-screamed, dropping her notebook to the floor. “Oh, hi Twilight. What are you doing here?” Twilight opened her mouth, then shut it and facehoofed. “I’m gonna need somepony to explain what’s going on!” Sugar Belle yelled, leaving the room in silence. The others all looked at each other. Pinkie shrugged. Twilight sighed, and levitated a jar into view. Inside was Sugar Belle’s cutiemark, warped and reddened. Sugar blinked, her mouth hanging open. “Now, before you say anything let me explain!” Twilight said, holding a hoof out with a small look of panic. “I’m not sure what exactly caused this, or why for that matter, but I have a small inkling. After you passed out, Pinkie called us over because of the red pulses and I noticed your cutiemark was about to fall off.” “Fall off? That’s bad, right? What does that mean!” Sugar cried out, backing away in mild fear of what it represented. “Calm down! I’m getting to that part. Anyways, after we got it in safe keeping, the red pulse vanished, but the cutiemark itself turned red. I don’t really have an explanation for that, but my guess is that this has something to do with Starlight’s magic persisting on you somehow.” “Not her! I just got my talent back, and now she’s taking it away again?” Sugar said, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Pinkie walked over and patted Sugar on the back. Sugar sniffled. “Is there a way to fix it?” Twilight frowned. “As far as I know, something like this is unheard of. Even Starlight removing cutiemarks was new to me, but a damaged cutiemark?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to do. Our only options are finding a spell for it—which could be in any book throughout all of Equestria—or getting Starlight to undo whatever spell she cast.” Sugar’s head dropped without a sound, staring at the blanket covering her. Pinkie gave her a loose hug, but didn’t say anything. Silence reigned for a few seconds, but eventually Sugar sighed, looking like she had aged one hundred moons. “So… I guess this is my life now, huh. Back to making disgusting food that no one likes. Great.” Sugar’s face twisted into a strained smile. “Hey, they’re not that bad.” Pinkie said, tittering. Sugar glanced at her, and immediately remembering what she had said earlier, cringed. A thoughtful look crossed her face, before turning resolute. “You know what, no! I can’t accept this, I can’t let a fellow pastry chef suffer like this! We are getting back your mojo whether you like it or not!” Grabbing Sugar’s hoof, Pinkie rushed out the door, her spontaneous companion being dragged along with a scream. “She’s not supposed to be moving for another hour or two, Pinkie!” Fluttershy yelled after her. “Too bad! Baker’s code!” “Wow, it feels like only yesterday we were being semi-kidnapped in your basement!” Pinkie said, staring around Sugar Belle’s bakery, although calling it a house would be far more accurate. “Wait, what!?” Sugar sputtered. “We weren’t kidnapping you! And that was three days ago!” If Pinkie heard what Sugar said, she ignored it, as she bounced into the kitchen cheerfully. Sugar followed with a groan, albeit reluctantly. The kitchen itself was surprisingly sophisticated given the rest of the interior; sparkling counters and floors so smooth you could slide on them, which Pinkie took full advantage of. “Hey, this place is pretty good. I’d pay to bake here!” Pinkie said, her voice whirring from left to right as she slid across the marbled floor. “Oh, it’s nothing special,” Sugar blushed. ”Just taking care of my workspace as anypony would.” Pinkie blinked and looked around. Sugar followed her gaze and realized she could see Pinkie’s reflection in the oven. They met eyes again, and Pinkie smirked. “Okay, I get it, I’m a bit nuts with polishing,” Sugar admitted, trying to hide a giggle as she rolled her eyes. “Mmm, you’re good at it too. Cleaning is just so hard! I don’t know how other ponies can do it all the time.” “Just takes a bit of elbow grease and time.” “Suit yourself,” Pinkie said with a shrug, before looking around the room. Her eyes settled on a cupboard and she quickly raided it for it’s ingredients. Spreading them out on the table, she waved Sugar Belle over. “Alright, missy, we are getting you into tip-top chef shape!” Sugar stared at what laid before her. Flour, milk, eggs, some butter, and many more rested on the counter, along with a recipe book already opened to a page. She gulped. Her eyes shrank the longer she looked at them. She knew what everything was for—she hadn’t regressed that far—but, something in her felt slightly less familiar with everything. Pinkie gave her a pat on the back. “Hey. I know that feeling. Now listen, I want you to think of this as refining a skill and not proving a talent. Think of it like, um, ooh! Think of it like cleaning your kitchen!” Sugar nodded, putting a hoof to her chest and breathing in and out. She could do this. Pinkie hoofed her a whisk, almost daring her to take it. And dare she did. Sugar poured the flour into the bowl, measuring it slowly. Once she was sure she had the right amount, she began stirring. The flour sifted around the bowl like water in a pond. She then added the milk, and then the eggs and butter and kept stirring. Finally, she poured the contents into small containers, although she spilled some. Setting it all onto a pan, she loaded the muffins into the oven and set the timer. Pinkie had been watching silently up until that point, but as soon as the oven was set to cook, she pressed her face against the glass, staring directly at the muffins. “Uh, what are you doing?” “Just watching the muffins bake. It relaxes me,” Pinkie responded, her voice muffled. “Huh,” Sugar intoned. She looked inside the oven herself, finding a small spot that Pinkie wasn’t obscuring. She saw the colors of blue and orange mix together within, the heatwaves enveloping the small area. She had never thought to look inside so intensely before. Of course, she had made plenty of small checks while baking, but she’d never watched it. Sugar had to agree with Pinkie. She was so mesmerized, she almost didn’t notice the timer go off. Ding! Pinkie opened the oven, and set the pan down onto the counter, fresh steam wafting off the muffins. She licked her lips, but thought otherwise. “After you,” she said, curtsying. Sugar Belle picked up one of the muffins and looked at it intensely. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered as she took a bite, chewing slowly. As she ate it, her face fell. Then it dropped. Then it plummeted. Pinkie frowned and took a bite of her own, similarly savouring the taste. She smiled, but the frown soon returned.. “What’s wrong with them? They taste good!” Sugar swallowed, sighing. “That’s just it! I know I can do better than this, I just… Ahhhhhh! I could do so much better a few hours ago!” she yelled. “Why did I get my hopes up.” “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t get your tail in a twist, this is just the first batch! You’ll get better in no time! You just need to look at this from a different direction.” Pinkie said, tapping her chin. Sugar grimaced. “How much time is no time is what I’m wondering,” she muttered, but shook her head. “Okay, I’ll give it one more try.” “Phew!” Pinkie exclaimed, wiping her forehead for metaphorical sweat. “That’s all I ask. Just promise me you’ll try. I don’t like seeing an oven-mitter being a quitter!” A strained laugh came from Sugar as she went back to the ingredients. She was less sure now than she was before. Nervously, she began the new batch. She went through all the same steps—the flour, the stirring, the pouring—but now she couldn’t help but notice every mistake she made. She stirred the flour a bit too hard, she put in slightly too much milk, she spilled some of the dough. When the muffins entered the ceramic underworld of her oven, she felt like there was a hole in her chest. Ding! The timer sounded out, Sugar jumping at the noise. Pinkie set a hoof on her shoulder, giving her a look of concern, before opening the oven and setting the muffins down. Sugar couldn’t will herself to taste her creation. She shook lightly at the thought. “Do you want me to take the first bite?” Pinkie asked. Sugar gave a tiny nod. Pinkie took the first bite. She frowned. Sugar didn’t need to see anything more. Sugar sat underneath the stairs to her basement, not making a sound. She felt like crying, but the tears just wouldn’t come. More than anything, she was disappointed with herself. If her food was bad enough to make the Element of Laughter frown… Sugar lightly groaned. Pinkie had tried so hard for her, to return her lost talent, even if she didn’t know how to. Why was it so hard for her to try? The sounds of hoofsteps came down the stairs. “Hello? Sugar Belle? Are you down here?” Sugar considered not responding for a moment, but sighed. Pinkie didn’t deserve that. “Yes,” she weakly pushed out. Pinkie trotted into view with that same look of concern from before. “If you don’t mind me asking, why… Why did you run away?” Sugar raised an eyebrow. “Why? What do you mean?” “You just ran away before I could say anything!” Pinkie exclaimed. Sugar looked away. “I just didn’t want to hear what you had to say. About my baking.” Now it was Pinkie’s turn to raise her eyebrow. “Wait, what? Do you think I didn’t like it?” Sugar blinked. “Wait, you don’t?” Pinkie smirked. “Pffft, you think I could dislike muffins?” Sugar gave a teasing grin. “You did a few days ago.” Pinkie nervously scratched her head. “Ah hah, oh yeah. But anyway, I do like the muffins.” “Then why did you frown?” Sugar asked. Pinkie smiled. “I did like them, they were good. But, I realized it was missing something.” Sugar leaned forward. “What?” Pinkie came closer and sat down next to her. “I have no idea.” “...What?” “I don’t know what’s missing, because the only one who knows that is you,” Pinkie explained. Sugar’s mouth opened in disbelief. “But I don’t know what’s missing! I didn’t even know anything was missing!” “Come take another look at them. See if you can figure it out.” Pinkie got up and trotted back up the stairs. Sugar’s curiosity got the better of her, and she followed suit. The muffins were in the same place as before, sitting on the counter. They were right in front of her now. “When you eat it, I want you to think. Think about what you think that muffin needs,” Pinkie said. Sugar took the bite and the flavor filled her mouth. Pinkie was right, it was good. Better than the first batch, despite her mistakes. But, she was also right that something was missing. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Sugar’s head and she smiled fiercely. “It’s muffin baking time.” She looked over to the ingredients again. They still felt like a daunting task akin to trekking Mount Everhoof, but now, she had the tools and knowledge to make the climb. She started the next batch, a new confidence in her actions. She poured the flour quickly, but carefully. She stirred gentler, like she was rowing a boat. More than all that though, she decided to forgo the recipe slightly and add her own touch. She chopped up a plum into several small pieces and spread it evenly throughout the mix, and returned to stirring. Eventually, the muffins entered the oven, and Sugar Belle wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Feeling better?” Pinkie asked. Sugar nodded. “I think I did better this time. I really felt like I was baking!” “And if you don’t like it?” Sugar rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Try, try again.” Pinkie gave a small clop with her hooves. “Yes! Like that! That’s the baker’s attitude I like to see.” Sugar giggled and resumed her watch over the baking batch of muffins. Pinkie also followed suit. Sugar was once again taken by the almost hypnotic sight of heat dancing with itself in the blazing ballroom of her oven. As she stared, her attention shifted to the muffins. She could see it taking shape, throwing off it’s formless outfit in favor of a hardened, yet still soft texture. This time, when the sound of the timer rang throughout the room, she was quick on the draw. Sugar Belle set the pan down. They looked good, but she had thought that about the first batch as well. She glanced back at Pinkie, who gave her an encouraging nod. She took a deep breath. “Moment of truth,” she whispered as she took the first bite. She chewed her entire first bite without saying a word. She swallowed. Her mouth dropped open. “Does it taste good?” Pinkie asked, a slight tinge of worry in her voice. Sugar turned to face Pinkie, and smiled. “Yes.” “Eeeeeeee!” Pinkie squeaked, squeezing Sugar as tight as she could. “I’m so happy for you! Now let me in on some of that!” Sugar laughed as she attempted to catch her breath. “Go ahead!” Pinkie quickly took a bite of Sugar’s product. “Mmm, sweet, but not too sweet. Nice full texture. And, mmm, that flavor!” Pinkie somehow drooled over the muffins despite still eating them. “I take it, you approve?” Sugar asked with a simper. “Do I!?! This is great!” Sugar tittered behind a hoof. “No need for exaggeration Pinkie. They’re not perfect or as good as my festival muffins, but I’m still proud of them.” Pinkie smirked. “Oh, I’m not exaggerating. I just like them that much! Sugar smirked back. “You’re not exactly a great source for critical opinions, but I’ll take your approval any day.” Pinkie shrugged. “Fair enough.” She glanced over to Sugar’s bare flank and her smirk fell slightly. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay with that? It might be a while before Twily can figure something out, if she does.” Sugar looked at it and smiled. She had almost forgotten about that in the heat of the moment. “You know what, I am okay with this.” Pinkie gave her a bewildered look. “You’re fine with losing your special talent?” “Now, I didn’t say that,” Sugar corrected, still looking at where her cutiemark used to reside. “It still makes me a bit uneasy, not knowing if I’ll get it back or not, but now I know that I can keep going, keep trying.” A faint grin creeped into Pinkie’s muzzle. “If you don’t mind me asking, what convinced you?” Sugar giggled. “Well, in your words, it’s not just a special talent, but a skill.” Pinkie’s faint grin slowly grew into a big, beaming one. She nudged Sugar with an elbow. “A skill indeed, my friend! You might even be better than me!” Sugar raised her eyebrow with a smile. “Really?” Pinke stuck out her tongue in thought. “Hmm, okay maybe I’m just a teensy bit better. But, you’re close!” “Well, be careful Pinkie. I might just overtake you soon,” Sugar said with confidence, staring at Pinkie. Pinkie stared back. They held the stare for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. After the laughs faded, the room fell into a brief silence. “So, what now?” Pinkie asked. Sugar looked over at her muffins, and then to the remaining ingredients. She only had one thing to say to Pinkie’s question. “Now, we bake!”