An anthology of unconnected short Slice of Life stories, each one featuring an unexpected pairing.
Sometimes the best stories come from the most unlikeliest of encounters.
In 'Rich in Flowers, Unlucky in Love', one of the flower girls struggles with her growing feelings for a customer, suffering as she watches him stumble into romantic disaster after disaster.
In 'Perspective', Pony Joe shares with one of his customers a tried-and-tested method for resolving a Code Sparkle(otherwise known as a pre-test meltdown).
In 'Late to Class', Lemon Hearts is quite excited to be filling in for an injured professor... until an unexpected student appears in her roster.
And in 'Historical Inaccuracy' Sunny and Zipp go on a scavenger hunt through history to answer a pressing question: is it even possible for one of Sunny's ancient heroes to have had an extramarital affair?
These four stories were written as part of the Quills and Sofas 'May Pairings' contest, where prompts were given matching ponies that didn't have much of a chance to interact onscreen. It was quite fun and challenging. Pre-reading help provided by the Quills and Sofas participants, as well as horsetorian and Celestilune.
(Tags are for brief mentions of alcohol consumption and discussion of an extramarital affair)
Daisy wasn’t very busy. Few ponies were out in the market due to the overcast sky. Rose and Lily were both in the greenhouse, prepping for a large wedding order.
“You’re in the right place for it!” Daisy said cheerfully. “What’s the bouquet for?”
He was short and thin, though he didn’t look unhealthy. His mane cut was strange, with flat front bangs. It felt oddly anachronistic; some kind of fashion throwback.
But his appearance wasn’t off-putting, and his voice was intriguing. He had an accent she couldn’t quite place; not really a Trottingham one, but something else.
She wanted to hear more of it.
“Oh, well, I suppose it is for this mare.”
“A mare, huh? Your marefriend?”
“N-no. Well, not yet. But I hope she’ll let me court her. I’m going to bring her flowers and then ask if she has any regard for me.”
There it was again. A sense that there was something slightly odd about this stallion, something oddly out of place. Who said ‘court’ any longer? Or used ‘regard’ in that way?
Daisy found it irresistibly mysterious.
“Who? I know most of the ponies in town.”
“Ah. It is Starlight Glimmer. She has shown me great kindness in the past, and I hold her in high esteem. I do hope that she shall return my affection.”
“Well, let’s get you going on a bouquet, then!” Daisy said. “You’re going to want something that will complement her mane and her coat. Let me show you some options.”
The lure of a mystery fades if it’s not at the forefront of your mind. Daisy didn’t think of the pony for several weeks, until once again he showed up while she was tending the cart by herself.
“Greetings. I need to purchase a white rose.”
“Oh, it’s you!” Daisy said brightly. “Is the rose for Starlight? How’d things go?”
She regretted asking as soon as she saw his face fall. But then he sighed, and gave a gentle smile.
“Twas not to be, sadly. Though I believe we shall always be friends, romance is not in our cards.”
She liked the way he spoke.
“Who is the rose for, then?”
“Ah. Well, while I am unfamiliar with traditional courting trends, Starlight graciously helped to arrange something for me called a ‘blind date’. I shall be meeting a mystery pony, someone named ‘Cheerilee’. I am to arrive at Cafe Hay, and signal my presence with the rose.”
“Oh, a blind date? They can be fun!” Daisy said with a laugh. “And Cheerilee is—”
“Hold!” the stallion said. “Please do not, as they say, ‘spoil the surprise’. That would ruin the purpose of the blind date.”
“Oh! Of course,” Daisy said. “Just one white rose? Okay. But if things go well, I’ll bet you’ll be right back for more,” she said winking.
“One can only hope,” he replied wistfully. “I never thought it would be this difficult to find romance. I suppose I am just luckless.”
“You can’t think that way,” Daisy scolded as she wrapped clear floral paper around the outside of the rose stem. “Just because you haven’t found somepony yet doesn’t mean there’s not mares out there that would love to go out with you.”
Like Daisy. Her heart thudded at the sudden intrusive thought.
Down girl. He’s a customer. And you don’t even know his name yet.
“Here you are, and good luck. I’m sure you’ll have fun,” she said with another smile. “By the way, I know most of the ponies in town but I’ve never met you. What’s your name?”
“Oh, I am not from Ponyville. I make my abode in Canterlot, and just keep getting drawn back here for ill-conceived attempts at romance.” He held out a hoof. “My name is Stygian.”
“Stygian. That’s a nice name. I’m Daisy.”
And now she knew his name.
“Somepony has a crush.”
“Rose, I don’t…”
“Oh, can it, Daisy. You do. You know how Pinkie Pie has a Pinkie sense? I have a crush sense.”
“You’re making that up, there’s no way…”
“You can’t lie me, Daisy. Okay, maybe I don’t really have a crush sense, but I know all the signs.”
This time it was Lily’s turn to run the register while Rose and Daisy worked in the greenhouse. Rarity had ordered several dozen bundles of lavender.
“The signs?”
“You’re staring off into space and sighing, with a dumb smile on your muzzle. And I caught you doodling in your journal with hearts around his name.”
“You read my journal?” Daisy shrieked, dropping the blossoms she’d been wrapping.
Rose gaped at her.
“N-no. I was kidding, you know I would never. Celestia’s sake, did you really do that?”
“N-no comment,” Daisy stammered, hastily ducking down to pick up the lavender stems. “Besides, it can’t really be a crush if I barely know the pony. He doesn’t even live here. He just comes to Ponyville to… to buy flowers and get romantically rejected.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not!” Daisy said. “He seems so sweet, and he takes rejection so well. First it was Starlight, then he went on a pair of dates with Cheerilee before they decided not to go any further. And just yesterday he came back for another bouquet. This one was for Rarity.”
Rose flinched. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”
“You don’t even know him! He’s a sweetheart, and the way he talks is so…”
“...so what?”
“I don’t know. It’s formal and old, and his accent is adorable.”
“But,” Rose noted. “It’s Rarity. This pony would have to be an absolute Adonis in order to meet her standards. How’s this hapless stallion in the looks department?”
“He’s…” Daisy hesitated, and Rose let out a chuckle. “Hey! Don’t be rude. He’s… unique looking.”
“Uh huh,” Rose said with a raised eyebrow. “And what does he do for a living?”
“I… don’t know. Something in Canterlot.”
“So maybe he’s rich enough for Rarity to pay attention.”
“It sounded like they’ve met before. Maybe he has a chance with her.” Daisy didn’t know why she was defending his chances with Rarity.
“Do you want him to?” Rose asked.
“No!” she said instantly, then colored as Rose smirked. “I mean, yes. He seems so nice. He deserves somepony nice, too.”
“Like a down-to-earth flower girl?”
“Shut up, Rose. Like I said, he’s a customer. I’ve never run into him outside of work.”
“Well, what’s his name at least?”
“Stygian.”
“Stygian the author?” Rose sounded impressed. “Maybe he does have a chance with Rarity.”
“He’s an author?” Daisy finished her bundle of lavender, tying it with a piece of jute and a fancy bow. “What does he write?”
“Memoirs about his life. Daisy, you should read them. He’s led an… interesting life. He’s written three.”
“Oh!”
She had to get her hooves on those memoirs. Anything to unlock the mystery of the poor stallion with the odd accent, strange vocabulary, and bad luck in love. “Yes, can I please?”
“Careful, girl. That sounded eager,” Rose teased. Daisy rolled her eyes.
“Like I said, he’s a customer, so off limits. Still, it can’t hurt to learn more about him, right?”
“...he formed the Pillars! And knows the Elements! And he’s met the princesses! All of them.”
“Daisy.”
“He’s over a thousand years old, and he knows more about magic than half of the professors at Celestia’s school! The reason he sounds so different is because he learned to talk practically before the wheel was invented.”
“Daisy…”
“Can you imagine the stories he has to tell! Trapped in limbo for a thousand years! Possessed by the Pony of Shadows! Consumed by, and then overcoming, his own inner darkness! He’s like… a wounded soul in need of a perfect mare to heal him! It’s just like…”
“DAISY!”
“...yes, Rose?”
“I know. I’ve read the books already. Besides, we’re here.”
They were, in fact, at the castle. The crystal walls of the Castle of Friendship glinted in the mid-afternoon sun. Rose moved up the steps while Daisy unhitched the wagon full of lavender bundles.
Rose pulled the bell.
“We’re really going to have to find a way to help you run into him outside of work. So you can finally ask him out like a normal, sane pony.”
“But he’s so out of my league. And he’s just asked Rarity out.”
Knowing the mystery hadn’t helped. In fact, it made things worse. Now she knew just exactly how special he was, and exactly how far above her he was, too. She tried not to fiddle her hooves in agitation while she and Rose waited.
“You know that doesn’t matter, Daisy. Just…”
The large doors opened with a groan of the hinges, surrounded in a blue aura of magic.
“Daisy! Rose! So glad you could accommodate my order at the last second.”
Rarity’s presence, of course, interrupted just at the right dramatic moment. She pranced out of the castle and lifted the entire order in her magic all at once.
“Of course, Rarity,” Rose said. “Anything for one of our best customers. What is it for? A date?”
Daisy’s heart thudded in her chest.
“A d-date?” Rarity stammered. “Why would you think that?”
Rarity was flushed. Her mane was out of sorts, like she’d been obsessing about something. Anypony who spent any amount of time about Rarity had seen it before.
Something inside of Daisy felt stretched. Like it was about to snap. If Rarity was getting this flustered, then…
“Well,” Rose said, glancing back and forth between Daisy and Rarity. Even she looked worried. “There’s the fact that you just ordered an entire cartload of flowers. And there’s your mane and your coat.”
“O-oh, I have a spa appointment later, to take care of this disaster,” Rarity said, letting out a nervous chuckle.
The stretching thing inside of Daisy bent and trembled. She had to look away.
“Because you want to look your best for your date?” Her voice trembled.
“Well, if you must know,” Rarity gushed. “Yes. Lavender is her favorite, after all, and…”
“Her?”
Daisy’s head shot up, eyes wide with surprise. She exchanged a shocked glance with Rose.
“Now, can you two keep a secret? I know that this may be the juiciest gossip Ponyville has heard in ages, but I promised her I’d keep things low-key.”
“You have our promise,” Rose said, still wide-eyed. Daisy’s heart pounded, this time with hope, not fear.
“Yes, well, of course you have always been allies in the noble cause of romance,” Rarity said with a bit of a giggle. “But, as long as you can keep quiet about it, I’ll let you know. Tonight I am playing host to…” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “...the Princess of the Moon herself. Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna, has graciously accepted my invitation for a quiet date in the castle.”
Rose grinned widely. “Really! Well, good for you, Miss Rarity. I hope it goes well. And you’ll have to tell us all about it later. If you can.”
Daisy nodded dumbly.
“I will, I will!” Rarity gushed. “But I can’t stay and talk now, I’ve got so much to set up! And the spa, too! Thanks again, and you can just charge my account.”
“Will do, Rarity,” Rose said, eyeing Daisy with a smirk. “This is excellent news.”
Maybe not for Stygian. But Daisy couldn’t help but feel a thrill of hope.
“I’ll catch up with you both after it’s all done,” Rarity said, as she floated the flowers inside. “Wish me luck!”
And with that she closed the door.
Daisy and Rose were left alone, with Rose smiling broadly and Daisy…suddenly full of butterflies.
“Poor Stygian,” she said.
“...what?” Rose asked. “That’s your takeaway here?”
“Well, if she’s going out with Princess Luna, that means… Rarity rejected him. Another rejection.”
“Well, it just means we’ll have to find a way to make sure that you meet him outside of work.”
“Rose, are you scheming something weird?”
“Well…” Rose said coyly, then turned down the path back to town.
“Rose, I know that voice. You’re planning something. I swear to Celestia, if you plan something crazy, I’ll…”
“You’ll what, Daisy? Thank me when everything turns out perfectly and you finally get to ask out your crush?”
“Rose, don’t you dare!”
But there had not been enough time for scheming. Spring was their busiest season; between Mare’s Day, various festivals and holidays, and the ever-popular outdoor wedding rush, there was little room for romance.
Daisy didn’t mind too much; it kept her mind off of the fact that she still had no idea how to appropriately and officially meet Stygian outside of work.
Or if she even wanted to try.
But every time she thought of him, she thought of all the things she’d read in his book. That, and the desperate, hopeful look in his eye every time he came to their flower cart to get a new bouquet for his next doomed romantic attempt.
It was truly impressive how resilient he was in the face of so many setbacks. Endearing, really.
“Daisy! You’re doing it again!”
Lily sounded annoyed. Daisy shook her head and refocused on the line from their stall, extending all the way across the market.
“Doing it again?
“Sighing and staring dumbly off into space. Can’t you focus on the customers?” Lily hissed.
“Give her a break,” Rose said from behind them, as she arranged bundles, pots, and bouquets. “She’s caught a bit of a bug.” And then giggled.
“Right,” Lily rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Lovesickness is a recognized medical diagnosis, is it?”
“Quiet, you two,” Daisy muttered, turning from them to the next customer in line. “Yes, how can…”
It was him.
“Ah. H-hello, Miss Daisy. I find myself in need of a boutonniere.”
“Oh. So…” her brain felt like scrambled eggs. “...um. How did, er, your thing with Rarity go?”
She felt, rather than saw, Rose flinch beside her. Of course Daisy already knew how it went. But Stygian didn’t know she knew. And she didn’t want to—
“Not…n-not ideally,” he said, and Daisy’s heart broke a little at the way his ears drooped. “But!” His smile was a bit forced, but he perked back up. “I’m not giving up. There’s something called a ‘speed dating’ event. Allegedly a large number of us are paired at random and have five minutes to interact, before a timer rings, and all the stallions switch places.”
Stygian shrugged, looking uncomfortable.
“Honestly, I do not see the attraction. You modern ponies and your traditions seem so strange to me sometimes, but if it helps me find love…”
“The way you never give up is really great,” Daisy said in a rush. “I really love that about you! I mean, uh—”
“Speed-dating is a waste of time,” Rose said, and Daisy stared at her in panic. “What you really need to do is open your eyes, Mister Stygian, and notice the wonderful mares all around you that would be perfectly willing to be with a stallion like you.”
“I wish I could, miss,” Stygian said sadly. “But I don’t think here’s many mares out looking for a scrawny failed supervillain, are you?”
“You’d be surprised,” Rose muttered.
“S-so! What do you want on your boutonniere?” Daisy stammered.
“I do not know what would suit me best,” he admitted. “I shall rely on the advice of the expert.”
“Daisy!” Rose hissed, gripping Daisy’s shoulder with a hoof and pulling her to the back of the stall. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
“But—”
“Now, Daisy.”
With a yank, she pulled Daisy a few feet away, while Stygian looked on with confusion.
“Ask him out. I’m tired of seeing you moping and pining, and you both deserve somepony nice. Besides, he gets flushed whenever he comes to the shop, and whenever he chats with you.”
“But it’s inappropriate workplace behavior to—”
“AAARRGG! Fine! You’ve forced my hoof. Daisy! As of this second, you’re FIRED!”
“WHAT!” Daisy shrieked.
“...for ten minutes. Then you’ll get your job back, at ten bits an hour.”
“But you pay me nine now, what…”
“FIRED, Daisy. As of this second, and for the next six hundred seconds after, you are not an employee, and are not bound by any policies or ethical standards that may or may not require you to maintain a professional distance between you and any customers you might have a hopeless infatuation for. And if any customers within the sound of my voice who had, for reasons of propriety and a polite respect for professional boundaries, had never considered asking a gorgeous and single mare like Daisy here out on a date, please know that she is now available for asking.”
The assembled customers stared in confusion and shock. Stygian looked like he’d been struck with a two-by-four.
Daisy stared, mouth open.
Stygian stared back.
“Um…”
“Well, I should think…”
“Maybe, uh…”
“Perhaps we could…”
“OH FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE, YOU’RE BOTH TERRIBLE!” Rose shrieked. “Here!”
She thrust a boutonniere in Stygian’s frozen hoof. It was a red carnation, with greenery and baby’s breath.
“Wear this, and a nice suit coat. Skip your speed dating waste of time, and meet Daisy at Cafe Hay. Six o’clock tonight. Got it?”
“Y-yes, Miss Scary Flower Lady.”
“And you!” Rose rounded on Daisy. “You’ll get off work an hour early to go get ready. I’ll call ahead to let the spa know you’ll be coming, and make sure to bring your blue dress, it goes well with your green eyes. Besides, Stygian will love it. THERE. You’re going out on a date, and we can all stop sitting around and waiting for you to figure yourselves out and get on with our lives. Any objections?”
Daisy and Stygian stared at each other. Slowly he started to smile. “None from me.”
Daisy gulped.
“M-me neither.”
“That’s settled, then,” Rose said with a snort. “Good.”
Donut Joe walked in the back door of his cafe at three fifty five AM—five minutes before the start of his shift.
“Mornin’, boss. Quiet night. Only one customer. All-night study session.”
Joe smiled at his overnight employee. Vigil had practically been Celestia-sent; a bored royal guard retiree with intense insomnia. He loved the overnight shift at the donut shop.
Joe’s eyes wandered around the kitchen, to the almost military-like precision of the tool organization and cleanliness that Vigil habitually brought to his shop.
“All ready for ya, boss.”
“Thanks. Have a good morning. Get some sleep. I’ll go check on our all-nighter.”
“Good luck,” Vigil said with a smirk. “It's the existential crisis variety.”
“Oh boy,” Joe said with a laugh. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll get the morning’s batch in the oven then check on them.”
Vigil waved again then slipped out the back door, leaving Joe to start rolling out the dough. Honestly he really enjoyed the quiet work of the early morning.
Some ponies had Zen gardens. Some had sensory deprivation chambers. Joe had a floury kitchen at four thirty in the morning.
Once the first few dozen batches of Joe’s specialty were baking away to golden perfection in his ovens, he poked his head out of the kitchen to the front counter to start setting up the espresso machine. He didn’t usually get his first customers until five or five thirty, but with an all-nighter student in the place he figured he might want to get his coffee machine ready.
The student in question was asleep, collapsed in a drooling heap on top of an open textbook. Three more were stacked up next to it, and a chaotic array of scrawled notes covered the rest of the table. Her face was turned towards the counter, and Joe could practically see the stress lines. She was a pink unicorn, and her mane was in a devastating state of disarray. She was young, but still a little older than the typical student.
Joe chuckled and was about to go wake her up, but then he hesitated. With a little smirk he started up the coffee grinder.
His snoozing guest jerked at the noise, but didn’t wake. Joe went to work, steaming a small pitcher of milk, and pouring a double shot into the hot milk. Lifting the mug full of hot latte with his magic, he moved over to the table, and his only early-morning customer.
“Hey,” he said softly as he set the mug down on one of the few spots free of papers or study materials. He gently nudged her with a hoof. “Ya okay?”
The mare’s reaction was not what he expected. She was not a gentle waker. With a scream of panic, and a flare of her horn, she jerked her head up. Books and papers spasmed into the air in a frenzied display of panic telekinesis. Joe was barely able to get his own magic around the hot mug in time to prevent it from spilling in the chaos.
“OH CELESTIA WHAT TIME IS IT!?” she shrieked, bloodshot eyes darting every which way. Joe held up a hoof.
“Hey, hey, relax. Take a deep breath. It’s…”
He glanced at the clock over his register.
“Five forty.”
The mare blinked a few times as her brain caught up with reality.
“Five…forty? I still have… twenty six hours.”
She was starting to calm down, but her expression was still full of terror.
“Here,” Joe said, sliding the drink over.
“But I didn’t…”
“On the house,” he said, as he took the matted fur on her face. She’d been crying before she fell asleep. “Ya okay?”
“Fine,” she said. It was an automatic thing, without any real thought. She looked at the drink. “Um… who are you?”
“I’m the guy who’s name is on the sign outside the place,” he said, letting the Manehatten native sound seep a bit more thickly into his accent. He’d lived in Canterlot long enough to sound like he’d been born here, but Donut Joe was more than a name, it was a brand, and he owed it to his customers to play the role. He held out a hoof. “Donut Joe.”
“Amethyst Star,” she said, shaking his hoof. “Um. I only ever come here at night, and I guess I’ve never seen you.”
“Well, I do like to work mornings. You’re usually a night owl?”
Amethyst nodded. She looked miserable. “Yeah.” She wasn’t going to let him help without a little coaxing. But it was the solemn duty of a cafe owner. Much like those months he’d spent bartending to pay for culinary school; bartenders and cafe owners alike had a sacred duty to serve as friend, counselor, and surrogate sibling to whoever needed a friendly ear.
Maybe he was overdramatizing. But he still did his best.
“Whatchya studying?” It seemed like a good start.
Amethyst stared at her books, myopically trying to focus. Joe subtly pushed the mug closer, and she took a drink.
“Woah,” she said, staring at the cup. Joe smiled proudly. Yeah, he knew he was good. “Um. Advanced thaumic engineering.”
“You’re at See-Goo?” he said, using the colloquialism for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, or CSGU.
“Continuing Education program,” Amethyst said. Her expression twisted, bitterly. “For unicorns that failed at their first plan and had to go back to school for a sudden fall-back plan.” She waves a hoof at the pile of books. “And now here I am, pulling an all-nighter trying to study for a test I know I’m going to fail!”
She sniffed, and her eyes went wide. “Sorry. Oversharing.”
“Probably something to do with the sleep deprivation,” Joe said, and Amethyst snorted. “So engineering, huh? Can’t be that hopeless if you already made it far enough to get into the advanced class.”
“Yeah. Got in so far I’m over my head,” she muttered. “I wish I could…” She trailed off with a sigh.
Joe waited, patiently. She’d talk if she wanted to.
“Do you really want to hear this? We’re practically strangers.”
Joe smiled, sliding out a chair and sitting down across from her. “Yeah. But sometimes a perfect stranger is the right pony to vent to.” She nodded, and he continued. “If ya want. I’ve got a few minutes before my oven dings.” Amethyst nodded again, but didn’t say anything. “We can start with some small talk. Where ya from?”
Amethyst snorted again. “So you’re coaching me through a social encounter? Do I look that helpless?”
Joe smirked. “You’ve got a bit of a ‘small animal caught in a bright light’ vibe going right now. Again, probably the sleep deprivation.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Ponyville. That’s where I’m from.”
“It was, maybe,” Amethyst said. “I barely recognize it now.”
She went silent, one hoof holding her hot mug, the other trailing invisible lines on her paper.
“Lots of changes because of Princess Twilight?” Joe guessed. A pony could see the growing village from Canterlot, and it always seemed to him like it was growing larger.
“Yeah. There’s a castle there now. And a school. But it’s not just that! The town is twice as large, and it’s… it’s different. Like there’s no room for some ponies any longer.”
It wasn’t hard to tell she was talking about herself. Joe waited.
“I used to have plans. I’m really good at organizing, you know? I had a job I was amazing at. Well, seasonal work. I led the animal teams during Winter Wrap Up. I always thought, with my talent for leading teams, and event planning… well, I wanted to go into the mayor’s staff. Maybe… I don’t know. Public service.”
“And now?” Joe asked.
“Public service doesn’t even look the same as it used to in Ponyville,” Amethyst said. “The mayor’s practically just a figurehead at this point. She’s basically turned the mayor’s office into the tourism bureau. Which is fine, I guess. Most of the day to day leadership of Ponyville is being handled by the Friendship counsel and the headmistress of the school. It just means that now I feel like… like I’ve become irrelevant.”
She blinks suddenly, eyes widening.
“Not to say anything against Princess Twilight! She’s great! And the changes to Ponyville, they’re great! Most of the time. For most ponies. And I know she doesn’t mean to leave anypony out. But because of her, Ponyville simply doesn’t need me any longer.”
Joe could see the pain in her expression.
“So I signed up for this ‘continuing education’ program. If I can’t serve my town as a leader, maybe I can work as… I don’t know. A spellcaster. There’s always need for unicorns dealing with whatever craziness is coming out of the school. For fixing things, and for investigating weird magic. I could get a job with the Friendship Counsel. Or at the school.”
“Ya could still go into politics and leadership, if you relocate. Didjya ever…”
Amethyst shook her head. “No. My family is in Ponyville. I want to stay.”
“So ya went back to school.”
“Yeah.” Amethyst stared at the imposing pile of books all around her. “This was a mistake. I’m not a foal any longer. I can’t learn like I used to. Stuff just doesn’t stick in my brain, and I feel like I have to study three times as long just to keep up. And even then, I’m drowning.”
She slowly slumped in her chair until her chin was resting on the open book. Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“I stayed up all night cramming for this test. And I’m pretty sure it was a waste of time. I don’t know if I remember anything.”
Wet eyes darted down to the page in front of her. “Look at this. Thermo-motic reaction conversion rates? The Clever-Swirl Formula? I don’t remember reading any of this. I’m screwed.”
“When is your test?” Joe asked.
“Tomorrow morning.”
Joe smiled. “You’ve got plenty of time, then. Time to break out Donut Joe’s Two-step Test Success Strategy.”
“What?”
He grinned. “I get a lot of student business. Especially from ponies just like you in a panic over an upcoming test. So I had ta develop a strategy to help them through it. I even used it on Twilight Sparkle on occasion. Ya know she and Spike used to come here.”
Amethyst stared at him incredulously, while Joe grinned. A small ding from the kitchen drew both of their gazes.
“There’s step one. Close your books and just enjoy your latte for a sec, I’ll be right back.”
She watched him curiously as he left the dining room, walking back into the kitchen. He waited a couple seconds, then poked his head back through the door.
“I meant it! No studying right now! That’s an important part of the plan!”
He made a motion with his hoof, pointing at his eyes, then at her. She laughed.
“I’m not. Book’s closed, see?”
He nodded firmly then moved back to his ovens.
As he pulled the fresh donuts out of the oven and started glazing them, the gears turned in his head. He’d been telling the truth. This wasn’t the first time he’d talked a student out of a full-blown panic. It was a point of personal pride to Joe that he had, in fact, talked Twilight herself down from three. Of course, he’d had Spike’s help for those.
He laughed as he started to drizzle the glaze over the hot donuts. Maybe that was the trick to helping Amethyst. What would Spike the Dragon do?
By the time he’d glazed four dozen donuts, more customers had started to filter in. Bleary eyed, mane-tousled ponies shuffled into Joe’s Donuts, looking for the one-two punch of sugar and caffeine. But Joe took a second to drop one fresh pastry off at Amethyst’s table.
“Here’s step one,” he said, as she looked at it. “Also on the house. But keep that on the down low, got it? Don’t want to have to give free food to all the vultures.”
She laughed. And the books were still closed, so that was good.
As Joe dealt with the morning rush, Amethyst sat there, her expression thoughtful as she slowly ate her donut.
At six thirty Joe’s morning help arrived. Riverbank and Undine were both good kids, working part time while they attended CSGU.
“You two handle the counter, I gotta Code Sparkle to work on.”
River flinched in sympathy, and Undine nodded. Both of them had dealt with their own pre-test meltdowns before. They knew the pain of a Code Sparkle. Quickly they threw on their aprons and took over the counter, slinging donuts and espresso drinks like true professionals.
Joe returned to his new friend’s table.
“You know,” she said wryly. “I don’t know if it’s the best business model to just give out food for free.”
“You’d think that,” Joe said. “But I know it works. I helped Twilight Sparkle through at least three of these, and now she has a standing order of a dozen donuts sent to the palace, every Saturday. Even when she was in Ponyville I had an arrangement with the bakery there to occasionally import them. So as long as I get you hooked now, when you’re some big, famous mage, you’ll be ordering these imported to Ponyville. I’ll have made a permanent new customer. And a friend.”
“These are pretty good,” Amethyst admitted, polishing off the last of the donut. “And you make a good latte.”
“They’re reasonably priced, too, when you need another,” Joe said with a wink. Amethyst rolled her eyes.
“Nice marketing strategy,” she said. “Now what’s the next step of your test studying strategy?”
“The trick,” Joe said. “Is perspective. You’re familiar with Princess Twilight’s friendship journal, right?”
“I think everypony is, at this point.”
“Well, it’s in there. Princess Celestia herself used it on Twilight Sparkle. I see ponies in here all the time, usually young ponies, who’ve thrown themselves into studies just like you. And like Princess Celestia banishing Twilight to Ponyville, sometimes those ponies just need perspective and balance in their life. You can’t pass tests when your mind is out of whack.”
“Princess Celestia didn’t banish Twilight to…”
“She absolutely did,” Joe interrupted with a grin.
“Okay. Maybe she did. But how is that supposed to help me? With my test? All the friendship in the world won’t make me pass.” She pounded the books in frustration. “I’m not cut out for this. My brain is like a sieve.”
“You got this far,” Joe noted.
“Because it wasn’t this hard!” Amethyst cried. “The difficulty curve is way out of hoof! The number of equations and theories and rules and laws that I have to memorize and keep straight is insane!”
“How’d you do it before?”
“Before?” The question pulled her out of her rant. Amethyst stared for a moment, then shook her head. “I told you, I’ve never done magical engineering before. I was an organizer, a leader. I wanted to go into city planning and politics, not—”
“Not spellcasting, I know,” Joe said. “You were going for a blank slate. I get ya. But I’ll bet when you were doing your animal management during Winter Wrap Up, or other jobs like that… you had a system, right? You knew how to keep your mind organized. You knew the ponies who were working for you what their talents and weaknesses were, and you assigned them appropriately, right?” Honestly Joe was guessing. He didn’t know what Winter Wrap Up was like in Ponyville; in Canterlot usually the weather team pegasi and unicorns took care of that. “Have you been using those tools with your test prep?”
“I haven’t had to, up until now!” Amethyst cried out. “It was so much easier in the one-hundred level classes! Now that I’m…”
Joe saw the exact second the epiphany overtook her. Amethyst’s pink cheeks got red, and once again she slumped down in her seat.
“...I’m an idiot,” she said after a moment.
Joe gave a gentle laugh. “Nah. Ya just needed step two.”
“So if step one was a donut and coffee, step two was…”
“A fresh perspective, from a friend. It’s what Celestia did for Twilight. It’s what I”m tryin’ ta do for you. Sometimes a pony gets so worked up with their own troubles, they can’t see their way out. Even if it seems simple ta somepony else.”
“I… I really wish I’d thought about that sooner.”
“Well, ya had the deck stacked against ya. The early classes were too easy, so ya forgot the skills ya already had. Makes sense. Now. Ya still got twenty four hours to get ready, but yer not gonna spend it stressin’ yerself out. You and me are gonna spend an hour getting your notes reorganized with a new system, then yer gonna get some rest. And do somethin’ fun. That way yer mind is all relaxed and ready for tomorrow.”
“What if I still fail?” she said, her voice very small.
“Well, that’s a chance,” Joe nodded solemnly. “But tell me this. Didjya ever fail as a leader during Winter Wrap Up? Make a mistake? Have ta backtrack and rethink?”
Amethyst’s ears drooped and she nodded.
“And when ya did, ya had a clearer view of the way forward, right?”
Her nod was slow. But then a smile spread across her muzzle. For the first time, it wasn’t twisted with bitterness.
“Right. Right! Yeah.”
Joe chuckled. “Ya got this, mare. Yer gonna be just fine. Whether or not ya pass the first time, you’ll bounce right back. And if it ever gets to be to much, ya can come right back here for a donut and some perspective.”
“You’re gonna charge me next time though, aren’t you?” Amethyst said wryly.
Joe laughed again. “Not for the perspective, I’m not. Now let’s get those notes in order.”
Lemon Hearts’ heart was full of pride and excitement, even though her stomach was full of butterflies.
Well, butterflies, and a lemon poppyseed muffin.
She stood at the head of the large, amphitheater-shaped lecture hall, unable to keep the smile off her face and her hoof from tapping impatiently as students filtered in. Ponies who were only a year or two younger than her looked at her in confusion as they found seats in the room.
It was understandable. She didn’t look much like a ‘Professor Heartbind’. Which, of course, she wasn’t. She was only Heartbind’s TA.
The clock’s minute hand passed over the six. It was nine-thirty on the dot. Time to do this. She could just ignore the fact that students were still filtering in.
Who was late on the first day of class?
“Hey, everypony!” she said, letting her excitement color her bright, cheery voice, more than her nervous fear. “Welcome to Psych 301, Intro to Marriage and Family Therapy. My name’s Lemon Hearts. Now I know I’m not exactly what you all expected, but Professor Heartbind had a bit of an accident.”
Some of the students murmured with concern. It made sense; most of the undergrads here were in the psychology department anyways, and had likely taken some of Heartbind’s other classes. She was popular.
“Don’t you worry for a second, she’ll be just fine. It was a skiing accident while on vacation in the Empire with her parents. She’ll be back to class in a week, probably with a cast and a few screws in her legs. Surgery went well. But that does mean for the first three classes you get me, her TA. And don’t worry your little heads, the first few classes is easy stuff, going over the syllabus, talking about…”
Lemon’s voice caught in her throat as one more pony entered the classroom.
“My deepest apologies for my late arrival!” the newcomer announced loudly as she stepped into the classroom. “I lost track of the hour and I…”
Everypony was staring. Especially Lemon Hearts.
It was not every day that the Princess of the Moon herself stepped into a college classroom.
“Please, go on about your business. Do not mind me in the slightest! In fact, it may be for the very best if you pretend that I am not even here!”
Princess Luna gave a titter of laughter as she practically pranced to an open seat. Every eye was on her as she took her spot, sitting down just like any other student.
It was then that Lemon noticed what Princess Luna was wearing. Hoof warmers. A headband. A perm.
The class was still stunned to silence.
“Um, Professor, if you could continue?” Luna ventured, nervously shifting her eyes about at all the staring students.
“R-right,” Lemon stammered. “As I was saying, I’m not the professor, I’m her TA, Lemon Hearts, and I will be handling the first few classes until Professor Heartbind gets back.”
What was Princess Luna doing here?
“U-um,” she continued, her gaze jumping back to the princess every few seconds. The rest of the class had turned back towards Lemon, but they, too, kept glancing at the Princess. Luna, for her part, was smiling eagerly. “S-so, if you’ll note, I already have passed out the class syllabus out to each spot. Does everypony have one?”
“Verily!” Princess Luna cried out, and Lemon flinched.
What is happening? Some kind of surprise inspection? Why was she dressed like that?
“U-uh, w-well, I’d like to start by pointing out the Professor’s contact information. It’s on the first page. Oh, but you can’t contact her yet. Because of the, uh, surgery. But mine’s there too!”
All of her eloquence, her preparation, and her cheery confidence had evaporated.
What if she said something weird? In front of the Princess? Had she already said something weird?
“Y-yes, my contact information is right below Professor Moonbind. I MEAN Heartbind.” Maybe nopony noticed.
Everypony noticed.
“Um. Now, let’s go over the attendance policies, okay?” A few ponies in the back sat forward more. LIke they were straining to hear. Lemon’s voice was getting softer the more nervous she got.
One day in and a single mishap has completely derailed you.
Lemon took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes. Silently counting to ten in her head, she opened them. It barely helped.
Many of the ponies looked concerned. Princess Luna even had a serious expression on her face.
They know you’re a fraud.
Lemon lit her horn, casting a simple megaphone spell. If her voice was going to start giving out on her, she might as well compensate.
“Professor Heartbind believes that a combination of textbook learning and in-class discussion are essential. Forty percent of your overall grade is based on classroom attendance and participation. You have two grace days; after that, any absence not cleared by the professor, or by myself, will result in…”
“So… she just showed up in class?” Twinkleshine asked.
“Yeah!” Lemon said, floating her glass with her magic. The ice clinked merrily in the glass as she swirled around the amber liquid before taking a sip. “She was… pretending to be a student, or something. But she was dressed weird. Like, she was wearing stuff from forty years ago.”
“And she didn’t say anything?” Twinkleshine asked, taking a long drink of her own beer.
Around them the student bar was mostly empty; few ponies were out drinking the night after the first day of classes.
But few students had been forced to deal with a literal immortal in their classroom, either.
“Well, some stuff. Like, telling us to ignore her, and pretend she wasn’t there. Then she… just listened. And took notes.”
“This was criminal psychology?”
“No,” Lemon said. “Intro to Marriage and Family Therapy.”
“Why? Was she… on your roster?” Twinkleshine sounded disbelieving.
“No, she wasn’t!” Lemon said. “I checked it six times!”
“So… the princess is auditing your class?” Twinkleshine laughed.
“It’s not funny, Twinkle! She threw me off my groove so hard I was barely able to get through the syllabus! I was stammering and fumbling words the entire time!”
She threw back most of the shot in a single gulp, grimacing at the alcoholic bite.
“Sorry,” Twinkle said, ears drooping. “I didn’t mean to make light. Besides, it must be bothering you; you don’t usually drink hard stuff.”
“It’d help if I knew what it was all about!” Lemon wailed. “Why was she there? Did I do something wrong? Was she there to check on me? Or…”
“Lemon. Relax. The princesses are all nice. I’m sure—”
“Not everypony is privileged enough to meet all the princesses, Twinkle!”
Twinkleshine flinched, and Lemon felt guilty. It was an old fight between Lemon and her closest friends; that Twinkle and Minuette, alongside Lyra, had been asked to serve as bridesmaids for Princess Cadance. Lemon Hearts had been left out.
“S-sorry, I shouldn’t…”
“No.” Twinkleshine slashed a hoof through the air. “Don’t apologize, Lem. You’re just stressed out.”
“I… no, it’s not okay. Even if you’re right, I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just… I really wanted to do right by the professor, and show her she was right to put her faith in me. Instead I was a stammering mess.”
“Maybe all you need,” Twinkle said, smiling broadly. “Is an evening of fun, a little booze, and a good night’s sleep. I know a nightclub that just opened up, and it’s mare’s night.”
That brought a smile to Lemon’s face. A bit of bar-hopping, some innocent flirting, and spending time with her best friend. It was just what she’d need to take her mind off her classroom fumble.
Besides, Twinkleshine was a great wingpony.
The next day wasn’t any better.
At least the Princess didn’t disrupt the class with her lateness.
She did, however, disrupt it just by being there.
Once again Princess Luna was dressed in some kind of throwback outfit. This time she even had a backpack and a fanny pack. The entire time she acted just like a student, only… somehow uncanny. It was as if she’d learned everything about being a student by reading a book, or something. Or perhaps by watching a play.
It didn’t help that Lemon had stayed up late drinking and flirting with a cute pegasus mare; a Wonderbolt, even. It meant she had a raging headache, even though she still had to lecture on the first chapter of the textbook.
Still, at least it wasn’t all bad. She had a second date scheduled with Fleetfoot, after all. Twinkleshine deserved some kind of medal for her champion-level wingpony-ing.
But the unpleasant mystery of Luna in her classroom held on like the lingering taste of hangover on her tongue.
She had a vague, booze-hazed memory of Twinkleshine suggesting that she just ask the princess why she was there. As if she could just go up to a Princess and demand answers. The very idea almost made her shut down entirely.
But Lemon managed to stumble her way through the lecture, as well as her two other classes for the day, somehow. Still, the shine of her first real teaching experience had faded; now she just wanted it to be over, and for Professor Heartbind to come back.
Since booze hadn’t helped, Lemon tried another tactic to help her sleep without anxiety; chamomile tea and a good book. She had a hard time focusing, though, and finally just gave up and went to bed.
The third day was even worse.
Princess Luna was not there. Lemon breathed a sigh of relief, even as she cast her eyes on the empty seat where the princess had sat the last two days. She took roll, and then started in on the day’s lecture; patient confidentiality was one of the first subjects the class would be covering.
It was only three minutes into the lecture when the Princess made her entrance.
This time she wasn’t cheerful. She wasn’t eager. And she wasn’t dressed in some strange sort of retro fashion.
“We have arrived,” she intoned regally, her voice echoing off the walls. It was enough to make Lemon shrink back, tail limp and ears pinned. “Pray continue with your lesson, Teacher’s Assistant. We shall be attentive.”
It was so very confusing.
“O-okay, I was—”
“Stop stammering,” Princess Luna demanded, standing from her seat and moving into the aisle. “Teachers must project with a clear and enunciated voice.”
“Of course, I am—”
“And you sound indecisive,” Luna said, moving to the front of the class. Her metal shoes were clicking against the linoleum floor. “How can you hope to command the respect of your students if you cannot command your own thoughts?”
“Yes, Princess. Now, we can—”
“Hold. I have questions about yesterday’s lesson. Is it really a valuable use of classroom time to spend an entire day going over a summary of the textbook? Who made the decision to do that; was it the tenured Professor, or her mere teacher’s assistant?”
Something was wrong. Very wrong. With each word, Princess Luna was growing taller and taller. There was something off about her eyes; her pupils were deforming, elongating into slits.
“Princess, what is—”
“I have concerns as well about somepony who goes out carousing and philandering instead of studying and preparing lesson plans. Are you certain you are responsible enough to perform your duties? Perhaps Fleetfoot should be aware of just what she’s getting into by agreeing to a date. You are clearly not up to her standards.”
“I…” tears were streaming down Lemon’s cheeks as she stared up at the towering alicorn. She stumbled, slumping down onto the ground. “But…”
“LEMON HEARTS! DO NOT GIVE VOICE TO YOUR FEARS AND INSECURITIES! I AM HERE, AND I SHALL SHELTER YOU!”
The voice echoed from all around her, but Lemon couldn’t place it. She couldn’t drag her eyes from the nightmare in front of her.
“Who dares?” the nightmare hissed, eyes casting about. “I am busy, and don’t have time—”
The wall behind Lemon Hearts shattered, rubble flying into the classroom. Only, it didn’t seem to hurt anypony.
Or rather…
There was nopony for it to hurt. The classroom was empty besides Lemon, the towering dark alicorn, and…
Princess Luna, once again dressed in four decades old fashion and wearing a frizzy perm.
“Sweet Lemon Hearts,” Luna said, even as the nightmare snarled and rounded towards her. “Where are you right now?”
“In Professor Heartbind’s…classroom…?”
“Try again, Lemon Hearts,” Luna coaxed gently.
There was an answer here. A truth she wasn’t quite grasping, just at the tip of her…
“A dream,” she breathed, just as the nightmare surged forwards. Luna’s horn lit, and the nightmare disappeared with a scream and a flash of blue light. “It’s a dream! A nightmare!”
“Not any longer, I hope?” Luna said kindly, moving up to her and gently helping her rise with one hoof. “Dry your tears. You are safe now. Though… I have some questions, if I may?”
“A-anything, Princess.” To be fair, Lemon was still trying to wrap her head around what was happening.
“I am in your nightmare. What you fear… is me.” Luna sounded calm, but there was a hint of something more there. Shame and regret, mostly.
Lemon felt guilty. “Um… yes. Sorry?”
“You have nothing to apologize for, my little pony. It is a consequences of my own failure that so many of my subjects still harbor fear and mistrust for me. I am truly sorry that I am not a source of comfort, but instead—”
“That’s not it!” Lemon cut in. Perhaps it was the guilt in Luna’s voice. Or maybe it was the self-hatred. Lemon had to set the record straight. “That’s not it at all!”
“You need not spare my feelings, good pony. I saw what you feared, I am used to it.”
“You don’t understand, Princess. It’s not you I’m afraid of!”
Well, that wasn’t true, and they both knew it. Luna raised an eyebrow, and Lemon flinched.
“Well, not you like that. Everypony knows you’re not like the nightmare. Everypony knows how kind you are, and what a beautiful soul you have! Nopony who looks up at the stars or the moon for even a second would ever doubt.”
Lemon was surprised at her own vehemence. Even Luna seemed taken aback.
“Then…can you explain this nightmare?”
“What kind of teacher wouldn’t be terrified when her favorite princess shows up, unannounced, to her classroom?”
Technically it wasn’t Lemon’s classroom. But it was for now, at least.
“Unannounced?” Luna said, cocking her head to the side. “But…did you not receive my message? Or see my name on your roster?”
Now it was Lemon’s turn to be confused. “On the roster? Your name wasn’t there, princess.”
“Oh! Well, perhaps there was some delay. Originally when I signed up for classes, I did so with a pseudonym. Aurora Nocturne. But the week before classes started I rethought things. I’d prefer not to hide who I am, after all.”
There had been an Aurora Nocturne on the roster. But there were always a few ponies on the roster who had pulled out last minute, or changed plans, or dropped out. She’d assumed it was one of those cases.
“Nopony told me, princess,” Lemon said.
“Strange. I sent a letter to the professor. It should have been delivered…”
Luna paused, blushing, and gave a chagrined smirk.
“...two days before classes began. While the Professor was still in surgery. I imagine the royal stationary is still on Professor Heartbind’s desk. Oh, Lemon Hearts, I deeply apologize.”
It was too much. Lemon burst into laughter. It was only a touch hysterical. “N-no harm done,” she stammered. No harm except several sleepless nights, and a large amount of pointless anxiety. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix the paperwork tomorrow. Or is it today?”
“Time doesn’t matter much in a dream,” Luna said airily, and Lemon laughed again.
“So why are you taking classes? You don’t need a degree, do you? You have… princessy stuff to do; it’s not like you need a job.”
“Verily,” Luna said. “But I did this for myself. For as long as I can remember I have been the guardian of dreams. And that has entailed a great deal of helping ponies. Through their fears, their insecurities, their weaknesses. But this modern world has rules and regulations. Most ponies need licenses and degrees to do in the waking world what I do in dreams.”
“So you signed up for classes? On a subject you already know well?”
“It did not seem fair to me to hold others to professional standards that I had not yet met myself,” the princess admitted.
Lemon felt her smile growing as she studied Luna. There was something humble in her voice, humble and proud at the same time. It made Lemon proud, too; proud of her chosen degree and the profession she was working towards, and proud of the princess who represented ponies like herself: ponies dedicated to healing minds.
“What?” Luna asked, noting the smile.
“It’s just…I’m really happy to hear you say that. Sorry I’ve been so nervous around you, Princess. I thought you were there for some kind of surprise inspection.”
“Perish the thought,” Luna replied with a laugh, and Lemon felt her anxieties and worries sloughing away. “Though, I do wonder. What was that you said about your favorite princess?”
Lemon felt herself growing pink as she ducked her head, embarrassed. “Well, it’s true. I’m a night pony, when I’m not being responsible. Nightclubs, bars, dancing. All so much better under your sky, princess. But can I ask you something? What’s up with the getup?”
“I did extensive research. Isn’t this what students usually wear?”
She sounded earnest. She sounded innocent. And eager.
Lemon burst into laughter. “Stay after class tomorrow, Princess. Maybe there’s some things I can teach you outside of psychology.”
The Maretime Bay Equusological Museum was closed on Sundays.
The good news was, Sunny Starscout had a key. A privilege of being the daughter of the stallion who'd found half the exhibits in the museum.
She let herself into the building, the glass doors pushing in soundlessly as she stepped inside. It was lit only by the rays of rising sunlight, and the light Sunny could see peeking underneath the office door in the back of the museum.
Good. That meant Dusty would be in his office.
She walked slowly past the displays. The first one, right beyond the entrance, was a set of six statues. The Element Bearers were made larger than life, which suited Sunny just fine. Each one was looking out towards the entrance to the museum, and the Bay itself. Their expressions were full of hope, kindness, and strength.
Briefly Sunny trailed her hoof over the plaque at the bottom of the display.
This exhibit made possible by the generous donations of Argyle.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said softly, and continued on. She paused again when she reached three portraits. Princess Cadance, Shining Armor, and their daughter.
They knew next to nothing about Twilight’s brother. Argyle had dedicated his life to the study of the Elements, and he’d only managed to stitch together a few stories of Shining Armor.
At least now Argyle’s work and his legacy continued, in places like this.
“I’m going to help figure this out,” she whispered to the portrait of Shining Armor, as she gazed up at his strong eyes and gentle smile.
“Somepony there?”
Dusty Inkstain poked his head out of his office, looking around worriedly. His mop of gray-brown mane was disheveled, and the scholar looked like he’d had a few sleepless nights.
“Just me, Dusty.”
“Oh, Miss Sunny.” he smiled, then sighed. “You read my paper.”
“I did. It was… well written, professor.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to butter me up, young mare. You didn’t like it much, did you?”
Sunny dipped her head. “No, not really. I just…don’t like the idea of Shining Armor having an extramarital affair. It seems out of character for him. But you’re just following the evidence.”
“You’ll note that I don’t make definitive conclusions. It would be irresponsible with only one source. Besides, I’m still at the early stages of my research.”
“Can I see your source?” Sunny asked.
“One source, several documents. It’s all secondary, which I wrote in my paper. But about two hundred years ago, somepony by the name of Buried Lede found evidence that Shining Armor had an affair with a mare named Daring Do.”
Sunny flinched. She hated the idea. Shining Armor had been Twilight Sparkle’s brother. He was steadfast and loyal. An affair went against everything she knew of Shining.
But…
“C’mon, I’ll show you the documents.”
Daring Do wrapped her hooves and wings tightly around Shining Armor, even as the walls of the ancient tomb crumbled around them.
“The whole place was rigged to crumble when we took the Rings of Staghornia from the Horn of Eternity!” Daring cried as she pressed herself against his strong masculine muscles. “However will you save us this time?”
“Daring, my dearest mare, I shall use both brains and brawn to do so! Prepare to teleport!”
“But Shiney, the Red Eldritch Stone was activated by the Cult of Goshan, making it impossible to teleport!”
“Oh, you silly mare. You forgot…
Sunny’s gag reflex couldn’t take any more. She placed the page back on top of the open folder on Dusty’s desk, meeting the historian’s eye. He, too, was cringing.
“This is…”
“Atrocious, I know,” he continued. The two of them were sitting in his office, surrounded by walls packed with shelves, each one sagging under the weight of books and papers. “Every fragment that Buried was able to obtain from Daring Do and the Mysterious Hero reads like a vapid dime-store romance, clumsy exposition and all, written by somepony clearly worshiping Shining Armor.”
“But your paper alleges that there might be some historical accuracy to it all? How is that possible, when this is clearly so awful?”
“Because Lede found court filings. I found Lede’s writings tucked away in the Zephyr Heights library. He references several documents that show that the royals went to court to try and bury Mysterious Hero. His conclusion was that there must have been something to the story, otherwise why sue whoever wrote it?”
“There’s plenty of reasons,” Sunny said, staring balefully at the agonizing story fragment sitting on top of the rest of Dusty’s research. “I almost want to go to court to never see that again.”
Dusty laughed. “I know the feeling. But part of being a historian is setting aside our prejudices to find the truth.” He sighed. “I respected Argyle. Looked up to him a great deal, in fact. But if he had any weaknesses, Sunny, it was that he always wanted everything to fit into neat stories. It always bothered him when the ponies he adored turned out to be flawed. Sometimes he struggled to accept facts that didn’t match the narratives he wanted.”
Dusty was looking at her intently. Sunny sighed.
“I’m doing the same thing, aren’t I?”
“A little. But if you’re aware of it, you can usually work through it. It comes down to this; are you a seeker of truth, or do you prefer a cleaner, fairy-tale history?”
Sunny considered.
“I want to help with your research. Tell me everything we know about Daring Do. And Shining Armor.”
As it turned out, there was only a single extant copy of Daring Do’s ancient novels, locked away in the antiquities section of the Zephyr Heights Municipal Library.
Sunny had been forced to pull in her royal connections to even be allowed to read Daring Do and the Terrible Tiara.
“This mare was amazing,” Zipp gushed as she read through the book. Zipp had gotten sucked into the narrative as quickly as Sunny had. “She really fought off three wild boars by herself? While her wing was broken? And still managed to retrieve the Lost Tiara of Pegasopolis? And there’s still three quarters of the book left, how can she top that?” She looked up at Sunny, skeptically. “Are you sure this is non-fiction? It reads more like a novel.”
“That’s one of the few things we do know about her,” Sunny said, her gaze still buried in the notes she’d taken on her turn with the novel. “She wrote under a pen name to hide the fact that her adventures were true stories, not mere fantasy.”
Zipp turned the book to glance at the cover. “So Daring Do was A. K. Yearling?”
“Yep. And she really was an adventurer-slash-archeologist.”
“Seems like a strange career choice,” Zipp noted.
“Says the princess-slash-detective,” Sunny smirked at her friend, and Zipp laughed.
“Okay, that’s fair. So did the book help?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Sunny groaned. “I was hoping there would be some hint of a relationship between Daring and Shining Armor, like some proof they’d met, or were friends, or… anything really.”
Was it possible for the mare she’d just read about to have had an affair with a prince? Possibly. Daring was an adventurer. She seemed to be nearly fearless, and a bit of a thrillseeker. From her interactions with the villains, particularly a dashing but unscrupulous rival archeologist named Caballeron, it was also clear Daring was a shameless flirt.
But there was nothing to indicate that extended to married stallions. Or royalty.
“I gotta say, though, we did learn one thing. Yearling did not write that piece of drivel your friend found,” Zipp said.
Sunny nodded. That was abundantly clear. The prose was (while grammatically accurate) painfully undeveloped, and the expository style was technical, dry, and amateurish. It had none of Yearling’s passion or soul, and a poor sense of character.
“It does add weight to my conclusion. Shining couldn’t have had an affair with Daring, it’s too out of character for him.”
“But not for her, necessarily,” Zipp said, and Sunny grimaced. “Besides, didn’t your friend warn you about coming to a conclusion in the middle of an investigation? You’ll run into confirmation bias.”
“It’s hard,” Sunny sighed. “Shining Armor is… well, he’s not Twilight Sparkle, but he was her brother. Infidelity goes against everything she stood for.”
“You need to prepare yourself, Sunny. There is some evidence it might have happened, even if it’s thin. And ponies don’t always fit into our expectations for them.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” She sighed. “Too bad this was a bust. Any other ideas?”
Zipp pursed her lips. “Yeah. The Harmony Archive.”
The door was made of stone. It was igneous rock, rough hewn of basalt with veins of galena throughout.
“Allow me,” Shining said, even as his horn fired multiple beams at the tunnel behind them. Every beam blasted away one of the henchponies chasing them. “Though you should know, technically, that lead, or galena in it’s natural ore form, is resistant to magic. We shall have to use strength.”
He threw his own weight against the stone, and it budged. Somehow the hero managed to keep his horn firing even as he pushed the stone to the side, leaving…
“It’s almost like somepony was taking a geology class when they wrote this section,” Zipp said. “Like, the technical details are almost unbearably annoying.”
“Do you have to keep going over it?” Sunny groaned.
“I do,” Zipp said earnestly. “There’s something here, I’m sure of it.”
“You’re enjoying teasing me, is more like it,” Sunny said, and Zipp laughed. “Okay. So at least this part matches up with what we know of Shining Armor. He was martially trained, and so was probably in good physical condition, as well as being a powerful spellcaster. Many of the stories we have involve him casting magical shields. So he probably could have shoved a stone aside while firing his horn.”
“While Daring Do, certified bad-flank, stood by damsel-in-distressingly?” Zipp asked while rolling her eyes.
“Okay that part’s probably fake," Sunny admitted.
“Right. He—oh! We’re here.”
They were surrounded by office buildings. They didn’t even have Zephyr Heights’ typical architectural flare; instead they were square and boxy.
“Are you sure…” she asked.
“Yeah. Been here before,” Zipp said.
“So what is the Harmony Archive?”
“It’s… well, it’s basically a warehouse. A long time ago, when the races started splitting up, some ponies thought that this might be a bad thing, and our shared history might start disappearing.” Zipp frowned. “And they were right. But they started to save everything they could get their hooves on. Documents, pictures, art, music. Anything. I talked to Hitch; they’ve got something similar in Maretime Bay.”
“Oh! Dusty did mention the original reporter, Buried, found his info in some kind of archive.”
“Right. And if we’re lucky, we’ll find that court case Lede mentioned.”
Zipp led her inside an unmarked office building, where a young pegasus mare sat behind a receptionist desk. Her eyes popped like saucers when the two of them entered, obvious with her recognition.
“A-a-a-alicorn…” she stammered.
Sunny managed a smile. “Sometimes, yeah. Do you mind if we come in? We’re looking into a court case that probably happened in Canterlot, about four centuries ago.”
It took the mare about twenty minutes to get over her starstruck daze, at which point she guided them back to a dusty-smelling warehouse. Stacks of books, documents, and huge bins filled hundreds of shelves.
But their first stop was a computer.
“We’re trying to digitize all of this,” the mare managed. “But it’s not done yet. For now, though, you should probably start here. The UI is pretty simple; just treat it like a normal internet search. And come find me if you need any help.”
Zipp looked right at home as she slid into the rolling chair in front of one of the clearly hoof-me-down computers, booting it up with a flick of her wingtip.
“Divide and conquer? You look up stuff to see if there’s any connection between Shining and Daring, and I’ll try to find the court case Buried Lede found.”
To Sunny’s dismay, it took barely any time to find her first piece of evidence.
“Here. Military missive. To all royal guard operating in the southeastern badlands, be on the lookout for Daring Do. Render her any aid, consider her an agent of the crown, et cetera. Signed, Shining Armor. They knew each other.”
“Doesn’t prove anything bad. Oh! I found the case, it…huh. No, the only digitized document is a list of exhibits, filed motions, and briefs. Looks like even the names of the plaintiff and defendant got cut off. What was the case about again?”
“The royals suing…somepony, I don’t know who, to keep Mysterious Hero out of print,” Sunny said, as she went back to her search. The next was a newspaper article, featuring a picture of both Shining and A. K. Yearling standing next to each other at some kind of gala.
“And that was Lede’s evidence to conclude they were having an affair?” Zipp asked, rolling her eyes. “Thin evidence.”
“That’s what Dusty said. Why else would the royals sue?” she asked, moving on to the next entry in her search. A newspaper article and a photograph of the two of them, side by side. Daring Do receives coveted ‘Friend of the Empire’ award from Prince Shining Armor at Reception Ball. Both ponies were smiling.
Her heart skipped a beat. There was a second picture; the two of them, in the same clothing, dancing at the reception.
“Could be a lot of reasons. Which princess was suing? This list doesn’t have actual documents, just the names of the briefs. We’ll have to dig deeper, and not everything is digitized. We’ll have to go into the actual archives. Have you ever used a microfiche machine?”
She had not.
Deeper in the vast canyons of musty-smelling papers and books, they found two archaic looking brick-shaped machines.
“So basically, the archivists have copied thousands of documents with nearly microscopic print onto big sheets, in order to save space. These machines are like giant microscopes so you can read them.”
“And you know about this because…?” Sunny asked.
“Lots of pre-digitized libraries do stuff like this for old newspapers. It was covered in one of my detective classes. Here.”
Zipp reached out and flipped the machine on, which lit up and started to hum. The wide screen in front lit up with a yellowish white light.
“So you just slide the fiche under the reader light here, and it amplifies the images and pictures up here. You have to practice moving slowly so you don’t lose your place, but it’s not hard.”
They obtained the case number from the list of exhibits, and soon enough had an entire plastic tote full of microfiches.
“This is the boring part of detective work,” Zipp said, smirking. “It’s not all chases and action sequences.”
It soon became apparent that boredom wasn’t the least of their issues. The documents were faithfully recreated on the fiches. But they had been damaged long before that. Charred and torn edges obscured much of what they could see.
“Lots of stuff got wrecked when the races split up,” Zipp said sadly, looking at her own. Sunny nodded. “Oh, hey! Here’s the case title at least. Twilight Sparkle Versus Canterlot University Press. Twilight was the plaintiff? Huh. The complaint is torn off here.”
Sunny skimmed her own half of the records. She’d probably go through more thoroughly, but right now she was looking for anything that stood out to her.
She gulped. Even if it did mean one of her heroes was tarnished, she needed to know.
“Witness testimony from copyright excerpts, free speech experts…hmm. It seems like the suit was a copyright claim. A newspaper tried to publish Mysterious Hero, and… Twilight Sparkle sued them for copyright claims?”
Sunny looked up from her machine. “What?”
Zipp looked stunned, too. “So… Twilight Sparkle wrote that piece of garbage? Why? How? And then she tried to hide it? This makes no sense! Why would she go to court to hide her brother’s affair, after she’d already written about it?”
There was something not adding up. Some clue, some single epiphany that would explain everything. Sunny was sure of it, even if that was probably the same confirmation bias that Dusty had warned her of. If she could only just…
“...here,” she whispered. “Oh. Oh my.”
She started to laugh.
“What?” Zipp asked, sliding her chair over to look at Sunny’s screen.
It was a partially burned remnant of direct examination between Twilight’s lawyer, Stridesand, and some mare named Velvet..
Sand: So you are witness to the production of this story? Velvet: Yeah. Twilight worked on it for weeks. She was really enjoying herself. For a while I worried that the time she spent writing fanfiction would cut into her studies. She was only eleven, after all, but she never…
That was it. That was all there was to the fragment.
Zipp and Sunny’s eyes met.
“It was just fanfiction?” Zipp asked, her muzzle creeping up in a smile. “That Twilight Sparkle wrote when she was a kid? Idolizing her brother?”
Sunny started to giggle. “Not some kind of royal conspiracy to hide an affair, but…an embarrassed princess trying to hide her foalish fan-girling over her brother?” It was a conclusion Sunny could embrace.
Zipp laughed. “You can’t hide embarrassing stuff as a royal, you just have to ignore or embrace it. Suing the newspaper probably backfired hard.”
“Maybe.” Sunny was just glad she knew the truth. Even if it did mean her hero had once written the cringiest fanfiction ever about her own brother.
“So what do we name this adventure when we publish it? Sunny Starscout and the Fatuous Fanfiction?”
“Shush, or I’ll sue you,” Sunny shot back with a laugh.
