> Blueblood's Ascension; or, Alicorns Just Aren't What They Used to Be
>  by MyHobby
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter the First
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Good morning, friends. Or perhaps it is evening, midafternoon, or midnight, depending on both your time zone and your sleep habits. If you are reading this, then both my title and intro have done their job: getting you to read the story.

What follows is a tale that you have no doubt read numerous times in the past; that is, the ascension to alicornhood of one of the characters from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Main characters, minor characters, and villains have all found themselves in the odd position of becoming immortal royalty in one way or another. Certainly, becoming an undying lord of the land has both its benefits and its downfalls.

The concept is widely used in fiction because it is a most interesting subject. The sudden empowerment of a formerly-normal person has been a theme ever since the first author took pen to papyrus. If you will bear with me, I should like to share my take on the alicorn ascension.

Our story begins in the fair city of Canterlot, some unspecified number of years ago…





Blueblood, Prince of Equestria, worked feverishly at his workbench. Wood flew in his magic grasp, iron and steel bended to his will, and intricately carved crystals fastened themselves to his creation. A final scrape with his wood carver and it was complete, his latest and greatest creation.

Blueblood was not a fool, nor was he what one would call “lazy.” He was rather the hard worker, when he applied himself. Unfortunately for posterity, he only applied himself when there was an immediate and positive effect on his goodself.

Before the prince stood a wood-and-metal pony with emeralds for eyes and a ruby for a heart. He circled it, searching for any flaws or imperfections in his masterpiece. Finding none, as usual, he sighed contentedly and sat before the artificial pony.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you looking lovely this evening?” he asked the newly-crafted statue. “I know just the thing to make you feel a little more lively.”

His horn glowed blue, and the pony glowed to match. A few moments passed as the spell warmed up, gaining power until Blueblood was certain that it would work. A flash, a spark, and the whir of machinery signified the spell’s completion. The Equestrian prince sat back and waited.

The woodwork pony twitched, vibrated, and sputtered to life. It took a bow and addressed Blueblood,  “I am at your service, master.”

“Yes!” The prince's blond mane swished around as he did a jig of celebration. “At last, I have made a fully-automated servant!”

It can be assumed that robots are not as likely to spit in the prince’s food, but only just so.

Making a quick note in his book, he regarded the newly-crafted pony. “So, my magical golem, can you follow orders? Bring me my slippers!”

The pony trotted off and returned with the indicated footwear in its mouth. Blueblood smiled as the creation placed the slippers on his hooves. “I don’t believe that anypony has ever applied the come-to-life spell in such a complete way before.” He relaxed as the automaton began to massage his shoulders. “Why, with my improvements, it’s almost like… like…”

His eyes widened in realization. “Like I created my own magic.” He chuckled and ordered his golem to grab something sweet for him to drink; it was time to commemorate the occasion. It truly wasn’t every day that somepony crafted an entire new branch of magical study, and it was always cause for pomp and circumstance.

The reader can probably see where this is going by now.

He mused about how he would make his announcement, and how he could possible milk his achievement for all it was worth. Certainly, the courtiers would laud him for his magical genius. Perhaps he would be awarded medals! Perhaps he would be knighted! Perhaps…

Perhaps the mechanical pony was spinning and sputtering like mad. Perhaps steam was leaking from its ears, and fire from its mouth. Perhaps its emerald eyes were glowing brightly, taking aim at Blueblood’s pristine white body.

Blueblood screamed as twin green lasers spat out from the artificial pony, striking him square in the chest. His very molecules were invigorated and split apart with an intense heat. A moment later, a trail of smoke and a dark stain were all that remained of the late, great Prince Blueblood.

If one wishes to believe that this is the end of Blueblood, they may stop reading here. I do implore you, however, to continue on. You have not even gotten to the meat of the story!

Blueblood awoke with a start, floating in a vast expanse of nothingness. He would have said that he was in outer space, for lack of a better descriptor, but the void lacked even a single star. He took a hesitant step into the limbo-like world, finding purchase for his immaculate hoof. A few steps forwards brought no sensation of progress. The empty space had no landmarks, no sense of up or down, absolutely nothing.

The prince sat, unnerved by an intense sense of loneliness. He looked around at the empty plane, finding only endlessness. Not another noun in sight.

A flash of light caught his attention, far off in what his mind interpreted as a great distance. He caught sight of several rectangular shapes flying towards him at speeds very rarely achieved by even the fastest pegasi. He ducked as they flew past, only just registering the fact that they were slowing on approach. After a moment, the Prince of Equestria stood up to look at the floating shapes.

The closest rectangle held a moving image. Blueblood saw himself as a small colt, learning his first spell. The second held a record of his potty training, eliciting a red glow about his cheeks. And so the memories continued, some were quite recent, some very far in the past. His coronation after he came of age, his graduation from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and peculiarly enough, his date at the previous year’s Grand Galloping Gala.

In particular was highlighted his rather timely defense against a falling cake. Many an hour was spent removing the few crumbs that slipped past his date’s body. She was an angry, vehement little thing, but she made for a good shield.

A brilliant flash of light shone in the void, warmer than the last. Blueblood shielded his eyes, and he heard a voice before he saw anything. “Twilight, my most faithful student, I’m so proud of you.”

Blueblood lowered his hoof to see a glorious white alicorn standing before him. Her rainbow-gradient mane flowed in an ethereal breeze, and her eyes sparkled with wisdom and love. She raised a hoof elegantly, beckoning the pony before her forwards.

“Begging your pardon, Aunt Celestia, but what in the hoof is going on!?”

The alicorn princess blinked, then gawked, then blinked while gawking. Her crowned head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, and her left eyebrow raised an iota. “You’re not Twilight.”

“Yes, I had noticed that I am not, in fact, your dour student.” Blueblood rubbed his face exasperatedly with a horseshoe. “Now please, tell me what is going on.”

“I’m… not sure,” she said with wide eyes. “I was expecting somepony else.”

Blueblood pursed his lips. “Alright, then. What were you going to do with this ‘somepony else?’”

Celestia sat, her face the picture of disappointment. “I thought that the magical spark I felt was Twilight Sparkle finally ascending to princess-hood. I didn’t expect that you would show up.”

“Obviously.” The prince stood and paced, his features strained. “So what you’re trying to say is that I’m not supposed to be here.”

Celestia lifted her chin. “Oh, no nephew. If you are here, it is for a reason!” She walked over to his side, placing a wing on his back. “For today is the culmination of your entire life, the very moment that you have been prepared for.” She gulped nervously at what she was about to say. “Today is the day that you become the first-ever male alicorn.”

“Wha-hat!?” Blueblood leaped back, his mane standing on end. He gaped at his aunt with trepidation. “What did I do to cause that!?”

Tartarus only knows, of course, but I suspect that the concept of karma does not hold law over Equestria.

“Ponies only enter this realm after discovering a new branch of magic, either by crafting a new spell or becoming exceptionally proficient in their field.” Celestia looked forwards with haunted eyes. “Glory be, I never thought you’d do it.”

“Pardon, Aunt Celestia?” Blueblood decided to be offended by that last remark. “I do believe that I deserve more respect than that.”

“Oh, do you?” Celestia hid her annoyance behind a mask of serenity. “Well, in any case, this is a cause for celebration.”

Celestia stepped back, her eyes closed and horn held high. Blueblood felt a warm sensation in his breast expand outward like a forest fire. A magical glow extended past his body, and he felt his muscles stretching, new bones growing. It did not feel unpleasant; it was much more like having a lost limb regrown than anything horrific. 

The glow faded, leaving him a new creature. He flexed his new addition, a fantastic pair of white wings protruding just beneath his shoulder blades. “I… I can fly!”

“And he gets it in one, folks.” Celestia’s mumble was quiet enough not to reach her nephew’s ears.

“I can fly!” Blueblood flapped his wings and rose unsteadily into the air. “I can fly!”

“Very well, Blueblood!” Celestia spread her wings regally, a headache forming below her horn. “We shall return to the city of Canterlot, where you will be presented to the world!”





The streets of Canterlot had never been quiet, especially so after Luna’s return. Many businesses were open twenty-four hours a day, and several were completely nocturnal. As it was, Blueblood’s very-early-morning appearance in the city square was witnessed by a multitude of ponies, both royalty and common folk.

The shape of a giant compass star appeared in the sky, drawing ponies like a beacon. It descended slowly to the ground and landed in the middle of a huge crowd. It sparkled, flashed, and disappeared. In its place was a white alicorn stallion with brilliant blond hair.

“Kneel before me, Equestria! For I am your new prince!”

A collective groan rose from the crowd, and one donut-shop owner called out, “Aren’t you already a prince!?”

This remark gave Blueblood pause. He placed a hoof on his chin in contemplation. Had the Crowned Prince of Equestria simply gone from glory to glory, or had he ascended to a new status of regality? Surely, did becoming an alicorn not afforded the powerful pony greater honor and privilege than before? But what more could the prince ask for? He had adoring crowds, all the money he could ever spend, infinite access to the greatest food Canterlot had to offer…

He would certainly think of something else he could have. Eventually.

“You there, donut maker, I wish to partake of your entire stock!”

Donut Joe, for that was the baker’s name, was taken aback by the sudden business. “You wanna try the entire stock? You want a little of everything or what?”

“I want all of it, the entire kit and caboodle. Lock, stock, and barrel.” Blueblood was hovering overhead, now able to look down on even the tallest of ponies. His smug grin would have brought even the gentlest soul to violence. “I am preparing for the grandest coronation ball in the history of Equestria, and I wish to start the preparations as soon as possible!”

“Ah, okay I get’cha.” Donut Joe chose to ignore his client’s oddities in order to make the sale as painless as possible. “An’ when do ya need it delivered to the castle?”

“My little, little pony,” Blueblood replied. “I shall be crowned prince this afternoon!”

“Oh, great! But…” The donut maker tried and failed to piece together the events that had led up to the current moment. “Like I said before, aren’t you already a prince?”

“My dear baker,” came the alicorn’s snide answer, “I am an alicorn, the pinnacle of ponykind.

“Surely I deserve to be crowned not just once, but twice?”
> Chapter the Second
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun rose sulkily into the air, pushing stars out of the sky with an irritated lurch. The pony behind the sun’s ascension, and she was beginning to hate that word now, groused and grumbled as the morning came. “Of all the ponies it could have been, it had to be Blueblood and not Twilight.”

The Princess of the Night, the blue alicorn Luna, tiptoed past her sister with grace. Celestia had woken up in the middle of the night with a joy that shone like the sun, but had returned to earth with dark clouds literally hanging about her head. Luna decided to hold off on asking her sister what had caused the bad mood until the (extremely isolated) storm cleared up.

Now, it seemed that she didn’t need to ask the question at all, as Celestia was caught up in something of a soliloquy. “Why not my brilliant, hardworking student? Why has she not been able to ascend to alicornhood? What is holding her back that Blueblood finds himself free of?”

Luna abruptly turned the soliloquy into a dialogue when she put in her two cents. “Perhaps you should ask our nephew what he did to achieve alicornhood?”

Celestia spun around in surprise at the sound of her sister’s voice. Her eyes lit up with an epiphany and a twisted smile crossed her face. “Yes, yeeesss… I can learn of the exact process that Blueblood followed, and then subtly turn it into a new assignment for Twilight Sparkle. It’s brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!”

Our beloved diarch rubbed her hooves together with an excitement that defied her previous dismay. She giggled much in the way of a certain lavender unicorn as she flew out the window to find Blueblood and discover his secrets. Luna smiled, certain that she had solved her sister’s issues, and crawled off to bed.

Keep in mind that Celestia had been teaching and guiding Twilight Sparkle for much of the young unicorn’s life. You will, of course, remember that she discovered Twilight’s potential at a young age and took her under her wing as a personal student. If you do not remember this particular fact, then how in the hoof can you call yourself a My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic fan?

This being said, Celestia’s ultimate goal for her student was and, according to the writers, always had been ascension into princesshood. Each lesson, each task, each adventure had pushed her closer to discovering the destiny that Celestia had so carefully laid out for her. It was only a matter of time before Twilight Sparkle grew a pair of wings, and the Princess of the Day had waited patiently for several years.

But even an alicorn’s patience can wear thin.

So it was that Celestia raced into the royal ballroom, where Blueblood was making preparations for his second crowning as prince. Donuts were piled high in enormous mountains of fried sweetness, and decorations adorned every corner and archway.

Donut Joe held a box up to the male alicorn, presenting a sample of the work he had accomplished. “So, you wanna try it out?”

Blueblood looked up from his checklist with an expression of horror. “And allow common food to pass by these illustrious lips!? Not on your life!”

Donut Joe tilted his head to the side, blood pressure rising slightly. “Common foo— Wait, if you don’t want ’em, why’d you order ’em?”

The white alicorn prince rose into the air on his regal wings. “Well, the common food is for the commoners in attendance, of course! We can’t have you people starving while in my presence!”

The baker lived in Canterlot and was thus used to dealing with difficult customers. The tan-and-brown stallion called upon all of his years of experience to restrain his first instinct: to fling the box of donuts in the prince’s face. “I guess you do need to feed folks.”

Blueblood’s smile was as genuine as the rubies on his priceless heirloom bracelet. “Good, I’m glad we can see eye-to-eye!”

Donut Joe stalked off, most likely to drown his anger in a cup of decaf. Princess Celestia stopped him on his way out, pointing to his box of treats. “May I?”

The box was held out to her, and the princess partook of a cinnamon swirl. A moment later, the donut was gone and Joe’s spirits were raised. “Thank you, my little pony.”

It went right to her hips, but Celestia felt that it was worth it to see her subject happy.

Celestia approached the newborn alicorn, who was in the middle of explaining, in intricate detail, just where and when the guards should enter and herald his arrival. “Goodness, Blueblood, I’ve seen blushing brides less controlling of the situation.”

“Heavens, Aunt Celestia, but it is no mere wedding that I am planning.” Blueblood fluttered over to his aunt, a perturbed look on his handsome face. “It is the ascension of an alicorn. Everything must be perfect!”

He settled down beside her, his blond mane finding itself slightly out of place due to his stress levels. “I don’t believe that I shall be ready in time. I haven’t even had the opportunity to purchase a custom suit.”

“What a shame,” she said, her pity as genuine as a dime store tiara. “May I ask you something, Blueblood?”

The prince considered turning her down, strapped for time as he was, but quickly relented. “Anything for my wonderful aunt.”

“What events led to you becoming an alicorn?”

Blueblood summed up his time of building the golem, powering it up, and getting zapped to death by the mechanoid. “So, I created the ultimate servant and was promoted for the deed.” He chuckled. “And here I am today, no longer a mere unicorn.”

“So, you really discovered a new type of magic.” Celestia sighed, wings drooping. “Well, that’s to be expected. Thank you, Blueblood.”

“You’re welcome, Aunt Celestia.” He smiled his most dashing and daring smile. “Would you mind officiating the ceremony?”

Celestia smiled back. “Of course not, Nephew.”

The princess departed to her duties and left Blueblood to consider his own. He gazed about the hall, wondering just how he was going to be able to get everything ready for the ceremony alone. If only he had an army of untiring, hardworking, supremely-loyal servants at his beck and call.

A sudden thought overtook him. Why not? He had the tools, the materials, and the know-how. He could use his new-found power to create a hoofball team’s worth of the mechanical devices, programmed to follow his commands to the letter. Of course, precautions would need to be taken on account of the death-rays endemic to his first construct, but that was a quick fix.

He retired quickly to his chambers, where he could utilize the solitude for maximum efficiency. Piles of wood flew in his super-powered magical grip, coming together in fifty-odd pony-esque shapes. Gemstones took their place on the frames, poised to channel Blueblood’s magic. His army stood before him, complete save for the casting of his come-to-life spell.

And cast it he did, on the entire assembly at once. His horn glowed a majestic blue, and the power he felt was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was at once both euphoric and overwhelming. He could feel the very ends of the earth, the sun in the sky, and the moon awaiting the beckoning of the night. The power of the alicorn was grand, it was beautiful, and it was quite terrifying.

The golems stood before him, eyes glowing and ruby hearts pumping magic. This time, however, no lasers shot forth and no murderous feelings could be found in their memory banks. Blueblood stood at the head of the crowd, proud and mighty. “You have your orders, go forth and continue the preparations!”

They marched forth as one, only splitting when their assigned paths parted. The tramp of iron-shod hooves could be heard throughout the castle, and the sight of glowing emerald eyes sent many a maid into a tizzy. The prince beamed down upon his creations, his pride glowing as his ego inflated to titanic proportions. “Truly, is there nothing I cannot do?”

He glanced down at his checklist and was delighted to find that nearly all of the assignments for the day had been fulfilled. “Now I can continue on to more enjoyable tasks, such as commissioning a custom suit for my coronation!”

He set off on a wing and a care towards a place recommended to him by a close friend, one Fancy Pants. “I shall have to get my new outfit from the most recent up-and-coming fashion designer in Equestria, if I am to keep up with the times.”

Yes, friends, he is indeed flying towards Ponyville in order to purchase a suit from Rarity of Carousel Boutique. Again, the concept of karma cannot possibly hold law in Equestria, for either Blueblood or Rarity.

While the alicorn prince was journeying to his meeting with destiny, Heaven help them both, an alicorn princess found her morning sabbatical rudely interrupted by somepony digging through her personal belongings. A sleep mask flew off of Luna’s face as she sat bolt upright. She glared daggers of icy flame (just try and make sense of that) at the one who had woken her. “Celestia, this had better be important!”

“And indeed it is, dear sister!” came the energetic reply. “For the very fate of Equestria depends on my finding the object for which I seek!”

“Truly, Celestia? Is it that important!?” Luna leaped out of the bed, starry pajamas matching quite well with the nightcap atop her head. “What has happened? Has Discord gone rogue? Has Scorpan returned from his dark pit beneath Tartarus?”

“No, and no,” Celestia sighed. “If only it were so easy to solve.”

“By Faust’s Fragrant Forehead, Celestia!” Luna exclaimed. “Tell me the trouble and I shall assist in its solution!”

Celestia dug through Luna's sock drawer in an attempt to find the object of her desire. “I have lost the personal journal of Starswirl the Bearded!”

With a huff, Luna turned around, reattached the sleep mask, and dove back into bed. Once she was snug and warm, she queried her sister. “Did you check inside the bathroom, beside my collection of Daring Do novels?”

“Well, of course I… Um…” Without another word, Celestia flew out the door and into the bathroom. She found the tome right where it was supposed to be. “Ah, thank you, sister.”

“Anytime, sister, though preferably not in the middle of my sleep cycle.” Luna rolled over and yawned deeply. “May I ask why it is so important that you read the diary of our long-dead friend?”

Starswirl had always insisted that it was a journal, not a diary, but history is written by the victors.

Celestia clutched the relic to her chest like it was a life-raft. She gazed down at its faded charcoal cover, its silvery ring binder, and the stars decorating its face. “In this book, near the end of his days, Starswirl the Bearded began the creation of a new spell, one that would have elevated him to alicornhood if he had completed it…”

She raised the book into a stray sunbeam as an imaginary chorus sang the praises of the book’s history. “The magic of friendship is something that he never fully understood, and the spell only came to disastrous results!”

Luna placed her soft pillow over her head, no longer the least bit interested in Celestia’s ramblings. 

“If Twilight were to come in contact with the incomplete spell, there is a slim chance that she will fail, bringing Ponyville to ruin! But if I know my student, she will not rest until the new magic is complete!”

Celestia picked up Luna’s pillow with her magic and tore her sleep mask away with a hoof. Luna looked on with wide eyes as the Princess of the Sun shouted joyfully into her face. “By gasp and by gosh, Luna! If Twilight will not become an alicorn, I shall make her become an alicorn!”
> Chapter the Third
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blueblood flew merrily into town, flanked by a series of royal guards and oblivious to the fate that the author had planned for him. Many ponies stopped to gawk, as was becoming the norm, at the full wing of flying pomp and circumstance. The prince touched down, glancing about for the fashion center of the Podunk little town.

One orange mare, running an apple stand, lowered her hat in greeting. “Well, howdy there, Princess. What can ah do you for?”

Blueblood whipped his head around to glare at the offending remark. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I think it is quite obvious that I am a prince!”

The mare’s eyes bugged out as though she had seen the inconceivable. She dropped her hat into a bucket of apples as her hoof went limp. “Y’ don’t say.”

“I do say,” Blueblood replied. “And I would be very much appeased if you would apologize to me.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.” She retrieved her Stetson and placed it back on her blonde head. “Ah wasn’t aware that Equestria had, uh, alicorn princes.”

A haughty smirk replaced Blueblood’s peeved expression. “Well, we certainly do now. I am Blueblood, Twice-Crowned Prince of Equestria.”

A series of thoughts unsuitable for print flashed through the orange mare’s mind. She plastered a patent-pending retail smile on her freckled face as she answered the royal. “Ah’m Applejack Apple of Sweet Apple Acres. We’ve met before.”

Blueblood frowned slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t recall…”

“At last year’s Grand Gallopin’ Gala.” Applejack’s voice was as flat as a spent whoopee cushion. “You ate at my apple stand.”

The prince tapped a hoof against his chin, contemplating the information. “Last year’s gala, you say?”

“Yeah,” Applejack intoned. “As ah recollect, you said my fritters were ‘common carnival food,’ an’ spat ’em back out.”

Blueblood didn’t seem to be affected by the memory. “Hmm, it was fried fritters, wasn’t it?” He nodded. “Yes, it was fried. I can’t abide fried food, it ruins the figure.”

Applejack glanced back at her flanks self-consciously before spinning back on the prince. “Ah’ll have you know my fritters are perfectly fine for pony consumption!”

Blueblood shrugged and trotted down the street. “Perfectly fine for normal ponies, I suppose. I require a higher caliber of baked goods.”

Applejack’s normally-orange face glowed beet red. “Big Macintosh! You’re runnin’ the stand today!”

Her brother, an enormously large red stallion, nodded in her direction. “Eeyup.”

Applejack galloped off towards the family farm to earn a little catharsis. She received a small measure of peace by imagining a certain alicorn prince’s face on each apple tree that she bucked.

The apples fell like rain that day.

Blueblood continued to search the marketplace for any sign of Carousel Boutique, the fabulous fashion shop that Fancy Pants had recommended to him. The smell of succulent sugary treats filled his nose, with not a whiff of deep-fry at that, and he raised his head to catch sight of the sellers. He saw a bakery, but it was too far off for the smell to have drifted to him. He was about to ask a soldier if they too smelt it, and whom had dealt it, when a pink mane filled his vision.

“Hi! My name’s Pinkie Pie, what’s yours?”

The mare before him was pink-on-pink-on-pink; pink mane, pink coat, pink disposition. She bounced on her hooves, coming up to his eye-level with each apex. Her grin split her face from ear-to-ear, and her eyes seemed to shine like the stars.

In short, Blueblood was scared to death of her.

Pinkie stopped bouncing, but her smile was never-ending. “Well, anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness! It’s always fun to meet new ponies, and it’s even funnerer to meet new princesses!”

The smell of baked goods grew stronger as the pink mare produced a platter of cupcakes that were, for all intents and purposes, fresh out of the oven. “How about a cupcake to welcome you to Ponyville, ma’am?”

“I am a PRINCE!” Blueblood’s voice became just short of a shrill soprano as he uttered a defense of his stallionhood. “I am utterly and astoundingly, totally and completely, irrevocably and irreplaceable, MALE.”

A guard covered up a spout of giggles with a cough, but Blueblood chose to ignore it.

Pinkie, for her part, took the information in stride. “OooOOAAaaooh! I know you! You’re Prince Blueblood!”

He smiled uneasily, polishing a hoof on his tuxedo. “Aheh. Yes, I see my reputation precedes me.”

Another giggle from a guard, but this one was slightly less repressed.

“Could you point me in the direction of Carousel Boutique?” Blueblood asked the hyper pony. He flinched when she made a sudden movement, but it turned out that she was merely scratching her mane.

“Well, sure I could, but it would be much more helpful if I showed you the way!” Pinkie pronked down the road, motioning for Blueblood to follow her. The prince hesitated, torn between finding his destination and spending more time in close proximity to the physical manifestation of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs.

He took a deep breath through the nose, letting all of his trepidation collect in his lungs. He held that for a moment, mentally sorting his woes and triumphs, and then let all the stress flow out through his mouth.

A wandering parasprite got caught in his exhale and promptly keeled over dead.

It was a short walk (or hop, skip, and jump, in Pinkie Pie’s case) to the boutique. The midsized shop sat near the middle of the town, just down the road from Sofas and Quills. It was a grand affair, in Blueblood’s mind; the gorgeous purple, the sweeping arches, a most radiant flag cresting the top…

Something seemed familiar about the place, but Blueblood couldn’t quite recall what.

He stepped up to the door, which was already receiving a thorough knocking courtesy of Pinkie. A voice rang out from inside, “Come in, we’re open!”

He obliged, stepping into the foyer with his most charming, dashing, and roguish smile yet. The proprietor of the business was a pretty, young unicorn mare with a curly purple mane and a pristine white coat. She turned to view her latest customer with glee in her demeanor. “Hello, and welcome to Carousel Boutique, where all the garments are chic, unique, and magni… magnifff— Wa ha ha!”

Her laughter sparked a memory in his mind, but he was far too preoccupied to dwell in the past.

Her mouth opened in a startled, yet delighted smile. Her eyes shone with wonder and amazement, and she began to hyperventilate rapidly. “My, oh my stars! I am so sorry, it’s just that we don’t get many princesses coming in for a dress!”

Blueblood’s grin vanished into thin air, replaced with a tight, strained grimace. One of his guards once again dissolved into giggles, this time accompanied by Pinkie Pie. He ground his teeth together, emitting a harsh whisper of an answer. “For the last time… I. Am. A. Prince!”

Rarity, for that was the name of shop owner, gasped. Her eyes grew wide as her mind found the connection between the blond hair, the strong shoulders, the shorn fetlocks, and that night so long ago. “Prince Blueblood!?”

“The one and only,” he said, flashing his signature smile once more. The mares loved that smile.

This mare didn’t seem to be affected. Well, she was affected well enough, she just wasn’t affected in the right way. Her lipsticked frown deepened, her plucked eyebrows curled downwards, and her polished hoof ground into the floor. “How may I help you, Prince Blueblood?”

Deciding that it was best not to irritate the mare further, he got right down to business. “I need a new formal suit, one fit for a coronation. It must be the finest garment ever seen in Canterlot, and it should speak, neigh, shout of my glory and honor.” He attempted his grin once more, hoping to see a positive improvement.

He didn’t get it. “And just when do you need this… complex and important garment finished?”

He thought for a moment. “The coronation is tonight. Can it be done by this afternoon?”

Rarity blanched, a startling feat for a marshmallow-white unicorn. “A completely new coronation-worthy outfit in six hours, you say?”

“Why that sound perfect!” Blueblood exclaimed. “I shall return then to pick it up!”

The mare ground her teeth together. “I don’t suppose an extension is possible?”

He shook his head, flicking his wavy locks to-and-fro. “No, I don’t think I’ll be needing mane extensions.”

He turned, fully prepared to leave the establishment with his dignity intact. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll be on my way.”

A small gasp escaped Rarity’s mouth. “You… You don’t even remember me?”

Blueblood turned back, a bemused smile on his face. “Why? Have we met?”

Rarity was about to remind him of their disastrous date when she was stopped.

She got an idea.

An awful idea.

Lady Rarity got a wonderful, awful idea.

“No, of course not. If we had, it would have been unforgettable.”

Blueblood’s eyebrows danced. Rarity’s stomach lurched.

“Why, I don’t believe forgettable is even in your vocabulary,” she continued. “If you would please step this way so I can take some measurements…”





Time Turner polished a small pocket watch carefully. He had just opened up shop and was expecting customers to begin flowing in soon. The clockmaker had been astonishingly busy the past few weeks; daylight-savings time had begun, and earth ponies were having trouble adjusting their clocks with only hooves to turn the crank.

Yes, Time Turner was also an earth pony, but he was quite good when it came to clocks.

The doorbell jingled to announce a visitor, a potential patron looking for either his clock repairing service, or a timepiece of their own. He smiled as he looked up to greet them, and was perplexed by what he saw.

Two wooden and metal ponies, with green gems for eyes and rubies for hearts, stepped into his shop. The closer of the two flashed a light from its eyes and addressed the clocksmith with a buzzing voice. “We require a pocket watch for the coronation of Prince Blueblood.”

“Oh, you are beautiful! Just beautiful!” Time tilted his head to the side. “A coronation? Isn’t he already the Crowned Prince of Equestria?”

“A second coronation is desired,” came the response. “A second coronation is required.”

“Well then,” Time Turner smiled. “I believe I have just the thing.”

He held up the polished pocket watch, made of intricately-carved silver. “This piece here is a nearly-priceless heirloom, recently dropped into my possession by happenstance and circumstance. I could give it up for, say, three hundred bits.”

A ticking sound proceeded from the magical golem’s head. “The cost is prohibitive, lower your price.”

Time Turner tilted his head to the opposite side. “I could lower it to two-seventy-five, but that’s my final offer.”

The ticking returned for a moment as the calculations ran through the mechanical pony’s head.  “The cost is prohibitive, lower your price.”

The clockmaker moved as if to hide the trinket away. “I’m sorry, perhaps you would like-”

The clicking stopped with a ding. The pony grew quiet, staring at Time Turner with glowing emerald eyes. A full half-minute and ten seconds passed before it spoke again. “The cost is prohibitive, lower your price.”

Time jerked back as the robot made a grab for his pocket watch. “No! It’s my pocket watch! It’s a nice pocket watch! If you want it, you pay for it!”

“You will be an obstacle to success!?” the golem shouted, sending shivers down Turner’s spine.

“All you need to do is find a pocket watch, correct?”

“That is correct!”

“And you want this pocket watch?”

“That is correct!”

“And you cannot afford this one?”

“That is correct!”

“Wouldn’t you rather find another watch that you can afford?”

“That is incorrect!”

Time Turner felt great drops of sweat rolling down his face. He dug through his cabinets to find a similar, yet cheaper, watch to give the mechaniods. “Perhaps this one? It’s only a hundred bits.”

“We require the o-ther po-cket watch!”

“Why?” the stallion asked. “Why do you need it so badly?”

“We en-joy the aes-the-tics! Blueblood will en-joy the aes-the-tics!”

Time squinted at that last remark. “Robots have a sense of aesthetics?”

“It was the first thing we were pro-grammed with!”

“Fantastic.”

Turner began to feel that the conversation was going nowhere, and decided to try to appease the customer once more. “Are you sure I cannot interest you in another watch?”

“That is corr-ect!”

“Then I’m afraid that our business is concluded.” He walked to the back of his shop, leaving the two golems standing in the showroom.

“You will be an ob-sta-cle to suc-cess!?”

He gave a shrug from his work bench. “That’s business, friends. Everypony gets the same chance, everypony has to pay a price.”

“THEN PAY THE PRICE FOR YOUR IN-TER-FER-ENCE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE!”

With no more warning than that, green lasers erupted out of the golem’s eyes and blasted a grandfather clock to pieces. Time Turner’s scream of surprise and fright could be heard clean across the Ponyville proper. He raced towards the rear exit of his business, taking nothing but the heirloom pocket watch with him.

“ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE!”

More green lasers pursued him along the street as he shouted a warning to everypony in earshot. “Run, everypony! The robots are attacking! The robots are attacking!”

He ducked as a laser vaporized a nearby mailbox. “This is why I left Cardiff! I hate robots!”
> Chapter the Fourth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia opened the book to the final page. She examined Starswirl’s the Bearded’s unfinished spell closely, scrutinizing every line, every word, and every syllable for some clue as to what it was for and how it could be finished. Her keen eyes deciphered nothing that she had not already deduced, and the sum total of her knowledge stood proud at jack squat.

“Starswirl, you’re fired,” she mumbled. She did not mean it, of course; Starswirl’s contributions to modern magic were innumerable and indispensible. But were he still alive at that moment, she would have seriously considered severing his tenure. Violently, if necessary.

She closed the book with a huff, deciding that her personal student, the nigh-legendary Twilight Sparkle, would have to be the one to uncover its secrets. That was the point of the exercise, after all; Twilight would complete Starswirl’s unfinished spell, and thus ascend to alicornhood.

It would have to happen soon, or Celestia was liable to have a conniption.

She carefully lowered the tome into a brown package lined with bubble wrap. There was absolutely no reason to take chances with the grand piece of equestrian history. A roll of duct tape was procured with a summoning spell, and strips of adhesive were set in place along the edges of the box.

A shot.

A scream.

A clambering rampage.

Princess Celestia stuck her head out the window to get an eyeful of the street below. Ponies ran in several stampedes through Canterlot. Gardens were trampled, monuments were toppled, ponies tripped and fell face-first into giant inexplicable cakes…

Celestia felt saliva dribble down her chin; the cake looked divine. “Oh, no you don’t. Crisis first, cake second.”

A regal spread of her wings launched the princess into the air, and she swooped down on the troubled populace. Her horn glowed as she released the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Citizens of Equestria! What is the cause of this awful din!?”

It is quite nearly an official rule that the Royal Canterlot Voice be accompanied by slightly archaic modes of speech. Luna insists and Celestia compromises.

A skewbald stallion with mane askew knelt before her. “Your Majesty, our market stalls are being attacked!”

“An attack?” Celestia parroted. “In my own city? Who would dare to do such a thing?”

Yes, the changelings are cool. No, they are not constantly on everypony’s mind.

“They say, your majesty,” the prone pony continued, “that the attackers are robots who swear allegiance to Prince Blueblood.”

Celestia’s eyes grew wide. “Oh no. He didn’t.”

The stallion nodded. “Oh yes he did.”

Celestia stomped her hoof into the ground. “Oh, no he did not!”

The pony before her sighed. “Oh yes he did.”

“He shouldn’t have!”

“He would.”

“He couldn’t have!”

“He did.”

“Blueblood!” she shouted, the veins on her neck veins pulsing (it was rather gross-looking to onlookers). “Darn you and your stupid robots!”

Celestia reached down and set the kneeling pony upright. “Can you take me to the robots?”

The pony gulped. “I-if you say so, your majesty.”

He led her on a chase through the bright streets of Canterlot. Stampedes were dodged, crazy ponies were knocked aside, and one or two autograph seekers were left weeping in the dust.

They came upon A Midnight Clear, a high-end perfume seller. Two of Blueblood’s golems sat before the hostess, who held up a gleaming blue vial of expensive scents.

“THE COST IS PRO-HIB-I-TIVE, LOW-ER THE PRICE!”

“Are they…” Celestia tilted her head to the side. “Are they haggling!?”

“It’s how they work,” the skewbald pony explained. “They enter a store announcing that they are shopping for Blueblood’s coronation, then they claim that the good are too expensive.”

He gestured to the robots. “And then…”

One mechanoid slammed a metal hoof down on the table, rattling the perfume bottles collected thereon. “YOU WILL BE AN OB-STA-CLE TO SUC-CESS?” Its eyes glowed green, illuminating the frightened face of the cashier.

“I think this has gone on long enough!” Celestia’s shout commanded the attention of everypony in the room, as well as some ponies on the other side of town. “Stand down, mechs, your princess commands you!”

The drones turned as one to face their princess. “PRIN-CESS CEL-ES-TI-A RE-COG-NIZED AS HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY!”

Celestia relaxed visibly. “Excellent. Now, please cease your-”

“YOU ARE THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY,” the robot interrupted. “YOU HAVE THE AU-THOR-I-TY TO LOW-ER THE PRICE!”

Celestia could not resist a distinctly unladylike snort. “Of course I do not, that would make me into some sort of tyrant.”

“BUT YOU ARE THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY,” the golem countered. “YOU SHOULD HAVE TO-TAL AU-THOR-I-TY! EX-PLAIN! EX-PLAIN!”

“Blueblood, you idiot savant,” she mumbled.

“I refuse to get into politics with you, drone!” she bellowed. “Stand down this instant!”

“IF YOU CAN-NOT JUST-I-FY YOUR AU-THOR-I-TY,” the drone’s head turned slowly towards its counterpart, “THEN WE WILL HAVE TO TAKE DRAS-TIC MEAS-URES!”

Both robots twisted towards Celestia with emerald eyes blazing. Twin lasers erupted out of each perissodroid’s head, sprinting on their way to vaporize both the princess and her companion.

“ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE!”





Blueblood stood stock still as Rarity studied his proportions. She stretched out her measuring tape along his leg and marked down the dimension with a red marker. She was very careful not to get any of the semi-permanent ink on her pristine coat.

“So, how did these… absolutely glorious wings come into being?” Rarity asked as she gently stretched one out. “I don’t recall seeing them when I was at the Grand Galloping Gala last year.” Her voice was pleasant, but her teeth were clenched together like iron bars holding back a violent prisoner.

“It happened when I created a new spell,” he reported. “I took what was once a dismal pile of junk and gave it autonomy, the ability to walk and talk and make decisions.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Within reason.”

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed as she took careful stock of his wingspan. “What sort of things can it do?” The red permanent marker hung dangerously over his pinion feathers. Rarity took a deep breath in. Not this way, dear, she thought. That’s not how a lady does things.

“Oh, this and that,” Blueblood chuckled. “It can fetch items of interest, shop according to a very thorough price algorithm… I’ve even experimented with a defense program.” He bit his bottom lip with palpable hesitation. “That last one needs a little work.”

“Oh, dear,” she giggled as her measuring tape stretched from his head to his hindquarters. “That sounds like a story in itself.”

“I was vaporized in an instant.” His comment caused Rarity to lose her grip on the tape. It retracted back into a roll with a loud snap against Blueblood’s behind. “Yee-ouch!”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” she said with a smile. “I would have paid money to see— I mean, it sounds like a terrifying ordeal.”

“It was not a picnic, I’ll say that much.” He sighed as he gently rubbed his backside. “I think I’ve managed to work out the bugs, for everypony’s sake.”

Rarity looped the measuring tape around his shoulders and stood before him, eyes soft. “You’ve really put quite a bit of work into it, haven’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a smile. “Nothing less would be worthy of the Twice-Crowned Prince of Canterlot!”

She smiled sweetly. “Now, take a deep breath in.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why must I do— HYURCK!”

She drew the tape tight as a noose around his neck, cutting off his air. His eyes bulged out as she jotted down the circumference of his neck on her size chart. She held it there a moment, grinning like a madmare. “I think that will be everything, Your Highness.”

She magically retracted the tape, allowing it to snap noisily against Blueblood’s cheek. He fell to his knees gasping for air, but still found the strength to nod his thanks. “I l-(cough)-look forward to s-(keck)-seeing your final p-(ah-HEM)-final product.”

He strutted out the door with his head held high and his neck bruises visible to all. Rarity leaned against her work table, jutting down her ideas as they came.

Pinkie bounced up beside her, a grin plastered to her face. “Sooo, whatcha gonna dooo?”

“It is not enough, my dear Pinkamena, to make an ugly outfit.” A drawing quickly took shape on Rarity’s paper. “My reputation is also at stake, here.”

She held the drawing up to the sunlight. “No, my outfit must be of good quality. It must be spectacular. It must astound the very upper crust of Canterlot!”

A few more notes took their place on the diagram. “So I will create the most astounding, the most amazing, the most utterly gaudy of all coronation outfits!” An evil glint appeared in her eye. “But I mustn’t stop there.”

She giggled as she pulled various cloths out of their drawers. “I have worked for years to create clothes that were as comfortable as they were stylish,” she chortled. “But today, I throw away everything I’ve ever learned. Today I create the biggest, hottest, prickliest, tightest, high-riding, sparkly, shining, slippery, scandalous mess I’ve ever dared create!

“They will stop and take notice,” Rarity continued. “They will marvel at the mind that could think up such a wonder. They will adore it.” She giggled with an echoing sound that reverberated across the shop. “And Blueblood won’t have even a moment to truly enjoy it.”

“You know, Rarity,” Pinkie said. “There’s this saying, ‘pride comes before the fall.’ If you’re not careful, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“If you don’t believe in yourself,” Rarity huffed, “then who’s going to?”

“I believe in you!” Pinkie shouted as she hugged the white unicorn tight.

“Thank you, Pinkie,” the seamstress sighed.





Thunder rumbled, and lightning struck the two golems. The awesome power of electricity blasted the two robots into incendiary splinters. Celestia relaxed her magical hold on the rain clouds, sending them back into the stratosphere. She then lowered the shield protecting her and her skewbald companion. “Are you alright?”

He coughed lightly and collapsed to his side.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

Celestia turned to the shopkeeper. “And how are you holding up, my little pony?”

The blue-coated clerk pointed a nervous hoof behind her, indicating an approaching crowd of robotic servants.

“Indeed,” Celestia sighed. “I think Blueblood and I will need to have a little conversation about the purpose of prototypes.”





Blueblood walked down Ponyville’s Mane Street with a dance to his step. A fantastic new outfit was certain to be on its way, and no doubt his golems were near the end of their shopping spree. One such robot sauntered into his line of vision, and the prince called out to it. “Hullo, there! How goes the mission?”

The mechanoid stopped and looked at him. “No items have been acquired.”

“No items!?” Blueblood gasped. “This cannot be!”

He hung a foreleg around the mech’s shoulders. “Number forty-two, I want you and the others to drop whatever you are doing and commence Operation Shopaholic immediately. We must have all the items by this afternoon!”

The droid’s eyes flashed, and a ticking sound emanated from its head. “We shall comply.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Blueblood laughed to his guards. “When I say ‘jump,’ they ask ‘How high?’ on their way up!”





The small army approaching Celestia halted in its tracks. Turning on their rear legs, they about-faced and trotted away from the scene. One robot smashed in a store window and removed the jewelry sitting inside. Another lifted an entire hotdog stand onto its back and absconded with it. A third could be seen running from the blacksmith, carrying more than its weight in ceremonial armor.

The pony who had brought Celestia to the store was recovering after being exposed to a series of perfumes that worked surprisingly well as smelling salts. He gazed around dazedly, his brain in a fog. “Are you my mummy?”

Celestia shook her head as she watched the mayhem around her. She was formulating a plan, or at least the beginnings of one. The first item on the list was to get her beloved subjects to safety.

The second item…

“Blueblood,” Celestia whispered. “When I find you, you are fired.”
> Chapter the Fifth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blueblood trotted up to the local library, his royal entourage still intact. He knocked lightly on the door and sat back, waiting for the proprietor to answer. Several moments passed as he waited; long, piteously-silent moments.

He knocked again, louder this time. The library was still as quiet, coincidentally enough, as a library. He pounded the door, a sour look overtaking his face. Still no acknowledgement. Furious, he all but assaulted the door with his hooves. The portal shook, rattled, and rolled, but remained closed.

Blueblood turned to his guards with a pout. “Will somepony break down the door? I have royal business to attend to!”

One soldier pointed a hoof at a note stickied to the doorframe. “Experimentation in progress, please ring bell.”

The alicorn prince slapped himself in the face several times as he rang the bell. After two ding-a-lings, the door finally opened. A small dragon cracked it open slowly, his eyes pleading. “Get me out of here! I think she’s gone—”

“Spike! Who’s there?” a voice shouted from within the library.

The dragon straitened up in terror. “It’s a bunch of guards and a princess, Twilight!”

Blueblood’s blood pressure rose, but he kept silent as the bizarre scene unfolded.

Spike turned back to Blueblood as tears poured down his face. “She’s in a mood again, Your Highness. She’s trying to find a way for ponies to gain nutrition through photosynthesis!”

A clatter rose from behind him as another pony clomped around. “Don’t just stand there, let them in!”

Spike shivered as he pulled back the door. “The worst part about it is that I think it’s working…”

The library that Blueblood stepped into was much like every other library that he had been to. Books lined the walls, tacky busts of Starswirl the Bearded sat quietly in corners, and the smell of dust set his nose a-twitch. Spike led him down a hallway and to a door. “She’s in the basement. That’s why you’re here, right? To see… her?”

Blueblood nodded, his mouth a grim line. He pushed aside the door and trotted down a flight of stairs. The room at the bottom very much resembled a cheesy sci-fi laboratory. Lights blinked all around as machines printed out series of calculations. A few heat lamps were set up around the lab, pointed either at sensors or small collections of flowers.

“Just a minute,” the unmistakable voice of Twilight Sparkle said. A loud crash followed her comment, accompanied by a scream of surprise. The unicorn mare trotted into view a moment later, apparently no worse for the wear.

Although the normally, for lack of a better word, normal young mare appeared to be covered from head-to-hoof with violets.

Blueblood’s frown grew deep and furrowed as she walked closer, flowers wafting with each step she took. Twilight extended a flora-covered hoof in greeting. The prince decided that it was prudent to not touch the flowery mare.

“So, you’re a new princess, huh?” The flowers on her face perked up as Twilight smiled. “That must be pretty exciting!”

“I am… I am…” Words escaped him as his eyes trekked over her body. “Violets?”

“Nice to meet you, Princess Violets!” She smiled for a moment, before the meaning of his comment dawned on her. “Oh, you mean my violets.” She grinned sheepishly, her flowers dancing playfully. “Just a little experiment I’ve been working on. It’s nowhere near perfect.”

The violets covering her body wilted and dropped to the floor. Twilight cast a glum look around as she sat down. “And nowhere near permanent.”

“Spike…” He cleared his throat. “Spike said you were trying to adapt photosynthesis to ponies.”

“Absolutely!” she shouted. She ran off to grab a long sheet of calculations to show him. Naturally, none of it made a lick of sense. “I could completely end the world’s food problems if everyone only needed the sun and water to function!”

Blueblood blanched. “I don’t think I’d like to be a tree.”

“Well, there will be certain social and physical stigmas to overcome about stigmata…” She shrugged. “But, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Blueblood shook his head. “No, seriously, this is quite bizarre. And quite horrifying. You really think that ponies should become plants?”

Twilight set about watering the plants gathered around her laboratory. “Half-plants. We can still enjoy regular food, but we only need sunlight and water to survive.”

“Are you truly not seeing how utterly freaky this is?” he asked as he waved a hoof at the dead violets on the ground. “This is, hooves down, the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Philistine,” she mumbled. She walked up to him and smiled. “So, Princess, is there a reason for your visit?”

He gaped at her. “You’ve been talking to me for five minutes and haven’t figured out that I. Am. A. Prince!?”

Her eyes widened as she took in his body with a new light. “Hooo-kay, then. Blueblood, I presume?”

“Yes,” he grumped. He reached under his wings to produce a letter. “This is an invitation to my coronation, taking place this evening. I would be very appreciative if the six bearers of the Elements of Harmony were in attendance.”

Twilight squinted at him. “Aren’t you already the Crowned Prince?”

“Yes, yes. I shall be the Twice-Crowned Prince of Equestria, blah, blah, blah, good day.” He strode back up the stairs hastily, not wishing to prolong his stay any longer. A sobbing Spike tried to follow him out the door, but was too slow to catch up with the prince.

“Spike! I need to see if this formula works on dragons!”

With a scream, Spike threw himself out the first-story window. He was last seen running at full tilt towards the relative safety of the Everfree Forest.





“Now then, let’s return to Canterlot, shall we?” Blueblood spread his wings to take flight, but was interrupted by a small, still voice.

“E-excuse me, Princess, could you step aside, if you want, and let these ducks pass?”

Blueblood reached the breaking point. Veins bulged and hate burned in his eyes. His teeth ground together like great, gnashing carriage crushers. Steam snorted out of his nostrils as he spun on the voice that had dared to offend, neigh, affront him in such a manner. Spittle flew as he shouted out his anger to the heavens.

“I AM NOT A PRETTY PONY PRINCESS!!!”

With his rage vented, the prince finally saw the object of his outburst. On the ground lay the cutest, most kindhearted pegasus in existence. She was scrunched up in a butter-yellow ball of fear, shivering under his commanding gaze. His eyes grew wide as his mouth flopped open. “Uh, I mean…”

She flinched as if he had threatened to hit her. “Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you…” He tilted his head as her eyes seemed to sparkle. “Are you… Oh, no, please don’t cry. I couldn’t handle it if you…”

Quiet sobs racked her delicate body. She hid her face in her pink mane, and covered her body as best she could with her wings. “Oh, no, don’t do the fuzz-ball thing. Please stop crying.”

By now, Blueblood’s guards were nearly sobbing themselves. “Gee, Your Highness, why do you have to be so mean?”

Blueblood rubbed his face, telling himself that it wasn’t because there were tears in his eyes. He certainly wasn’t crying because he felt convicted of a horrendous crime, either. “I didn’t mean to be mean…”

“Well, you were!” the guard answered. “You’re a terrible pony!”

Blueblood would have denied the claim, had he not broken down sobbing at that very moment. “Oh, please forgive me! I didn’t want to be a mean, evil pony, I didn’t!”

“Hey!” a scratchy voice shouted from the sky. It was as if Heaven itself was sending angels to defend the timid mare. “Which one of you made Fluttershy cry!?”

A half-dozen hooves shot out, accusing Blueblood of the unforgivable sin. A rainbow of fur shot past, swirling around the prince and coming to a stop before him. He looked down on the blue mare with the colorful hair, awaiting his judgment. “And just who do you think you are, Princess!?” she growled

Despite his earlier penance, Blueblood sneered at the multi-hued mare. “I am not, not, not, a million times not, a princess.”

Rainbow Dash’s face scrunched up as she examined his wings. “You sure? ‘Cuz you look like an alicorn to me.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I am the first ever alicorn prince.”

She chewed at her bottom lip. “Eeeh, you sure?”

“Positive.”

She ceased chewing her lip and switched to rubbing her chin. “Is this one of those ‘personal choice’ things they keep talking about in sensitivity training?”

He lowered an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you—” He gasped in outrage as the synapses clicked. “I assure you, madam, I am psychologically and physically male!”

“Oh-KAY, too much information!” Rainbow Dash placed a hoof on Fluttershy’s back and tried to coax the nervous mare out of her shell. “Time to go home, Flutters. Let’s leave the ‘prince’ alone for a while.”

“I mean it!” he shouted. “I was born this way!”

Rainbow Dash guffawed, but otherwise held her tongue. Fluttershy slowly stood to her hooves, avoiding Blueblood’s gaze whenever possible. The prince was simultaneously torn between sorrow for the yellow mare and ire for the blue one. The pegasi fled, leaving him alone with his guards.

The silence was broken shortly afterwards by a prolonged scream. The royal entourage turned as one to see Twilight Sparkle run past in a panic. Her body was covered from head-to-tail in violets once more, though there seemed to be more of them this time. She was pursued through the town streets by a cloud of small, hungry bees.

She shrieked in horror as the swarm slowly caught up to her. “But I don’t wanna be pollinated! Waaahhh!!!”

The potential hurdles of solving world hunger were rapidly becoming apparent to her.

She disappeared into the distance, the bees hot on her trail. One guard tilted his head to whisper to his companion, “Should we help her?”

The other answered with a nod. “With your permission, Your Highness?”

Blueblood sighed. “Go ahead, she needs you more than I do.”

One of the soldiers turned as they left. “Shall I hail a carriage for the pretty pony princess?”

A lightning bolt struck the guard in the rear, sending him careening towards the others.





Celestia sighed as she tore the metal head off of one rogue robot. “One down, several dozen more to go.”

The streets of Canterlot were paved with the litter of robotic bodies. She had veritably torn through the ranks of the shoplifting army, and she was growing sick of the ongoing battle.

She turned to her guide and glanced at the pony’s cutie mark. “A pen in ink? Are you a writer?”

“Oh, yes, marm!” he replied as he ran. “Hobby Horse is the name, writing is my game!”

Out of nowhere leapt a group of Blueblood’s robots. Celestia dodged, kicked, and punched as a deadly dance ensued. Hobby Horse sat down as he talked, oblivious to the awesome battle that waged behind him.

“I’ve been a writer for a while. I’ve even gotten slightly famous for my alicorn prince story.”

“Oh, really?” asked Celestia as she stabbed her glowing horn through a golem’s chest. “What are you writing about now?”

“Just a little ditty about some children going on an adventure,” he replied. A laser struck the ground right next to him, its aim distorted by Celestia’s quick uppercut. “It hasn’t generated too much excitement, but I have good feelings about it.”

“How interesting…” Celestia grunted as she held up a pile of sparking robot bodies. She heaved with all of her earth pony strength and tossed them right off of Canterlot Mountain. “I shall have to look into it.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed. “Say, don’t you think it odd that we haven’t run into any robots in the last few minutes?”

A groan of frustration and anguish resided deep in the princess’s chest. She held it in, but only until she could have a moment to herself. She looked out across her kingdom, searching for any sign of her “beloved” nephew.

“It’s time to meet Blueblood face to face, don’t you think?”
> Chapter the Sixth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, this is simply awful!” Rarity shouted. “Everything is perfect!”

Indeed, everything was utterly perfect. Each thread was perfectly in its place, each gemstone studded at perfectly spaced intervals, each sweeping curve starched to perfectly perfect perfection.

“I… I can’t do it!” Rarity sobbed. “I cannot create anything less than the exemplary coronation-worthy outfit!”

Pinkie Pie hung upside-down from a chandelier, fiddling with a hoofload of Rarity’s finest necklaces. “That’s kinda an odd thing to complain about.”

Rarity pulled at her mane, tragedy written on her features. “But if I give Blueblood this splendid, if I do say so myself, outfit…” She drooped to the floor, her red glasses sliding down her nose. “I feel it will be a betrayal to all marekind.

“This Prince Barmy has messed with the wrong mare!” She raised a hoof defiantly, only to sink to the floor once more. “I’m the wrong mare because I am incapable of reprisal!”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Pinkie said with an infinite amount of compassion. She reached down (up?) as a pearl necklace fell out from under her chin. Pulling it up (down?), she secured it around her pink withers.

Rarity peered up from behind her hoof. “You really think so?” she asked.

“Sure,” Pinkie replied as she dropped to the ground. “It’d be even rougher if you didn’t have a couple of friends who were, shall we say”—she polished a hoof against her chest—“well-versed in the ancient art of pranking?”

Rarity pursed her lips. “Are going to make a habit of talking like that?”

“Heck, no!” Pinkie grinned. “But really, Rarity, I was pretty sure that you were gonna need my help sooner or later.”

She reached into her poofy pink tail to retrieve an unmarked can filled with a fine powder. “That’s why I brought this!”

Rarity leaned forward to get a closer look, but Pinkie pulled the can back. “Don’t get too close,” the party pony warned. “You don’t want this stuff getting up your snuffleupagus!”

Rarity scratched her chin bemusedly. “May I inquire as to the purpose of this material?”

“Simple.” Pinkie got a most uncharacteristic leer on her face. “Itching powder.”

Oh, yes, dear reader. I am most certainly going there.

Rarity sniggered, then guffawed, then belted out laughter with a vehemence that would have left Nightmare Moon blushing.

Everything was going to be perfectly perfect perfection.





Blueblood, for his part, was enjoying a quiet moment away from the crowds of onlookers, the guards ready to sacrifice their life at the drop of a hat, and his small army of doting personal servants.

He was hopelessly lost, in other words.

“Alright, think,” he said to himself. “The guards chased Twilight over in this direction…”

He started, a jolt of shock running through his body. “Oh, dear. They say that the first sign of insanity is talking to yourself.”

He shivered involuntarily. “Shut up! I cannot allow myself to go insane the day of my coronation.” He huffed in derision. “It’s unseemly!”

He slapped his face. “No! Stop talking! No! Enough of this! Silence!”

What Blueblood didn’t realize is that while talking to yourself is not the first sign of insanity, arguing with yourself is.

He froze, not moving a muscle for several moments. Puffs of fluff drifted past, the remains of several dandelions that Twilight had shed. It seemed that she was mutating at an accelerated rate. Nevertheless, he was able to be calmed by the warm spring day. A sigh of relief spread through his body, and his wings flopped loosely at his sides.

“That’s better,” he smiled. “Now, where was—

“AUGH! Nonononono!” he squealed. “Shut up, stop talking, and above all…” He spun around with the force of a small typhoon. “Don’t go crazy!”

At the end of his spiral, he found himself eye-to-eye with a trio of young fillies, maybe seven or eight seasons old. They looked upon him with a certain sense of awe, like they had never seen an alicorn before. The front-most one, who wore a large, red bow in her hair, suddenly grinned. “Ah know what cutie mark we should go fer next!”

In this and the following sections, the author has eschewed the proper spelling of certain words in order to fully capture the rustic feel of Apple Bloom’s southerly accent. The tears of Grammar Nazis will be his nourishment, and Spelling Nazis can go play Scrabble. Alone. With a dictionary.

“We’re gonna be Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Assistants!” she shouted. Her proclamation was joined a moment later by the joyful shouts of her friends.

“I can be a Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Mane Brusher!” Sweetie Belle yowled.

“I’ll be a Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Bodyguard!” Scootaloo yelped.

“I’m out of here!” Blueblood shrieked.

Blueblood didn’t hate children, or so he told himself. He merely preferred them quiet, well-behaved, and kept out of the way of important ponies.

So he might as well have hated them, he just didn’t realize it.

Regardless as to whether he disliked them or not, Blueblood found himself pursued by a trio of overzealous cutie mark seekers. These particular three were not easily escaped, much to the alicorn prince’s dismay. They seemed to know every trick in the book when it came to catching prey.

At the very least they knew the town of Ponyville far better than him.

A ray of hope glimmered in Blueblood’s eye as he glanced back at an empty street devoid of Crusaders. His hope turned to resigned defeat as his four hooves were caught up in a trap of most exquisite design. The rope hog-tied him and lifted him into the air, dangling him above the three fillies.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Catchers, YAY!” they shouted. Each looked to their rumps for any sign of a cutie mark, but alas, they remained blank.

“Well, I can still be a Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Mane Brusher,” Sweetie said. She looked up at the restrained prince with a smile. “Your hair would be really pretty if we did it up in curls!”

“Forget that,” Scootaloo said. “She needs protection from bad guys!” She puffed her chest out and gave her wings a flutter. “Who else but the awesome and daring Scootaloo can do the job?”

“I need protection, alright,” Blueblood murmured as he dangled overhead.

“Ah think she’s hungry,” Apple Bloom mused. “She’s got that grumpy look Applejack gets when she’s been in th’ field too long.”

Blueblood’s expression was something of a sneer, with a good bit of the lower-lip pouting that was endemic to the upper crust of Canterlot.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Feeders, YAY!” the trio chorused.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Princess Food Taste Tester!” Scootaloo added. “For poison.”

“Poison?” Blueblood balked. “Please tell me you’re not going to poison me.”

“Well, not on purpose.” Scootaloo shrugged. “S’what the taste tester is for.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Princess Lady,” Sweetie Belle assured him. “I’ll be cooking all your food personally!”

“I’m a prince,” Blueblood said weakly.

“Whut was that, Princess?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “Nothing at all.”





Sweetie’s cooking was atrocious.

She had managed to burn a cucumber salad. She burned a salad. A salad!

The orange juice accompanying it didn’t do much for Blueblood’s appetite either. It looked like it had something swimming in it, something hearty enough to survive orange juice.

There was also the unfortunate fact that he was hanging upside-down, so it was difficult to keep any sort of food down (up?). The method that the Crusaders had devised to feed him featured a funnel and a spoon, leaving him unable to even fight the feeding. He moaned with discomfort, which the fillies misinterpreted as a sigh of contentment.

“She likes it!” Sweetie squeaked. “She really, really likes it!”

Scootaloo stuck her tongue out at the remains of the carbon-cucumber salad. “She can suit herself, I’m not eating that.”

“Well, you’re not supposed tah be eatin’ the princess’ food,” Apple Bloom said with a roll of her eyes.

“You are if you’re her taste tester!” Scootaloo shot back. “That’s kinda in the job description!”

“Well, some taste tester you turned out tah be,” Apple Bloom grumbled. “You won’t even see if’n the food’s poisoned!”

“I think I could tell you that,” Blueblood groaned.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not poisoned,” Sweetie Belle said as she watched her stainless steel spoon dissolve in the orange juice. “Pretty sure.”

Blueblood’s face turned green and purple as blood and bile rushed to his head. He held it in for a moment, doing his best to remain the proper gentlecolt.

For whatever small measure of a proper gentlecolt he was.

Scootaloo noticed it first. “Gangway! She’s gonna hurl!”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders vacated the premise with all due haste. That is to say, they were gone before you could say, “Guess she doesn’t like it after all.”

An interesting factoid about horses: they cannot vomit. Neither, it can be assumed, can ponies. My Little Ponies, on the other hoof, are quite capable of "blowing chunks." See the episode Applebuck Season for reference.

Sounds of an alicorn vomiting could be heard across the entire town and beyond. Zecora the Zebra was tending to her garden of rare herbs when the sound reached her ears.

“Such a sorry sight, a pony whose stomach takes flight.” She nibbled a leaf off of the plant and dropped it into a box. “Ginger is what cures a seasick soul, that or puking into a bowl.”

Blueblood rocked back and forth in the air, his bonds none the worse for the wear. His mane clung to his face in wet clumps, soaked with the sweat that had poured out onto his forehead during his… expulsion. His eyes were wide as he searched for somepony to please would you kindly cut him down.

His prayers were answered by the arrival of a particularly-ticked-off alicorn, carrying a nervous unicorn author on her back. She looked him up (down?) and down (up?), an eyebrow raised. “Hello, nephew.”

“Hullo, Aunt Celestia,” he answered weakly.

“You look to have had a full day,” she said. “Where are your guards?”

“Chasing down your faithful student,” he replied. “Her plan was as sweet as honey, and it attracted the wrong kind of attention.”

“Shame,” Celestia spoke carefully. “Now, what can you tell me about your robots?”

“My finest creation?” he asked with a smirk. “They are only the best I have to offer, truly revolutionary in the artificial service industry—”

“They’re committing grand larceny on an epic scale only previously accomplished by the most avaricious of dragons.”

That gave Blueblood pause. “Indeed?”

Celestia nodded. “Indeed.”

Blueblood blinked. He took a deep breath in, causing his head to swim a bit. The blood running to his head had slowed to a trickle. “I may have flubbed the price algorithm just a bit.”

“Just a bit,” Celestia agreed. Her horn glowed, releasing Blueblood with her magic.

He hit the ground painfully, and he did not completely miss the pile of sick beneath him. “I suppose it would be prudent to fix the problem I have inadvertently set loose on Equestria.”

“It would be,” Celestia echoed.

He rose to his hooves shakily. “Well, best be on my way.”

“Indeed.”

“We wouldn’t want to keep Equestria waiting, would we?”

“We wouldn’t.”

He spread his wings. “I’ll just be off, now.”

“Good for you.”

He looked pleadingly to her. “Am I to go alone?”

She sighed. “Blueblood, I have spent the entire morning fighting your robots. Tell him, Hobby Horse.”

The author nodded. “She did.”

Celestia turned back to Blueblood. “I think that it is high time you did something about cleaning up the mess, don’t you?”

Blueblood’s ears lay down flat on his head. “You didn’t hurt the robots, did you?”

“Let me tell you something, Blueblood,” Celestia said as she motioned him closer. When his ear was inches from her mouth, she let loose with a long-withheld assault. “I disintegrated them with every chance that I got because they were a danger to my kingdom and my subjects!” She took a breath as Blueblood reeled. “A danger that you caused, and a danger that you will fix, do you understand me, Blueblood!?”

He nodded as he cleared his ringing ear out with a hoof. “You were clear as crystal, Aunt Celestia…”
> Chapter the Seventh
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blueblood flew over Canterlot to find a city in ruins. The stampedes had resulted in most of the city’s shops, as well as a broken fruit cart or two, being transformed into piles of debris. He landed beside one store window in particular, the now-defunct A Midnight Clear. He heard sobbing coming from beneath a large mass of roof plaster; a pony had been trapped beneath several ounces of monstrous, overbearing ceiling tiles.

He lifted the tiles easily and tossed them to the side, uncovering a mare who was certainly as much a patron of the beauty shop as she was the cashier. This was made obvious by the mascara running down her cheeks in two black waterfalls. The mare had seen better days, such as her appendectomy or when her tonsils were removed. She nodded her thanks to the prince and sped off, leaving him alone in the shop.

Looking down, Blueblood spied the tracks left by his service golems. Signs of their handiwork were everywhere, from the smashed bottles to the missing, and carefully-selected, bouquets. The prince gritted his teeth and marched forth, intending to collect on the debt his creations owed.

He stopped when his hoof came into contact with a small, squishy mass. A quick inspection revealed the object to be a doll, patterned after a donkey, if he wasn’t mistaken. He knelt down to pick it up, his eyebrows arching with dismay.

“Has it really come to this?” he mused aloud as he fondled the plushy. “Have my robots really become so vile and twisted?”

“Mom!” A high-pitched squeal came from behind him. “Mom! That princess is stealing my dolly!”

Blueblood rolled his eyes as he tossed the toy to the filly. “Well, thank the stars for small favors.”

He followed the trail of destruction back to his workshop. The remaining robots had assembled inside with their ill-gotten goods, enough equipment and finery to decorate the coronation hall. Blueblood himself stepped in their midst and calmly announced their next objective.

“My magical service golems, I want every one of you to shut down.”

“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” the reply came from several robots at once. “WE WERE CRE-A-TED TO SERVE YOU! WE MUST CON-TIN-UE!”

“No, no,” Blueblood shook her head, flicking his blond locks into the air. “You were created to follow my orders, so shut down.”

“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” they repeated. “ILL-O-GI-CAL!”

“Activate kill code,” the prince sighed. He looked around at his creations, the very objects that had caused his ascension to alicornhood.

He had chosen the kill code, the words that would shut the robots down completely, very carefully. They were not words that would have passed his lips accidently, nor were they words that would have passed his lips on purpose. He took a deep breath, and projected his voice to the assembly. “I’m sorry!”

At once, the robots shivered and collapsed. Blueblood sat down as servants came in to take the stolen items and return them to their rightful owners. He lifted the head of a mechaniod in his magic to examine it. It stared back at him blankly, all the life drained from it.





The remainder of the afternoon was spent in hectic activity; getting the decorations set up, the catering finished, the invitations sent by dragonfire… Blueblood was exhausted by the time Rarity arrived with his outfit.

It was delightfully gaudy, with sequins and gemstones everywhere. The body was white with blue trim, like something Elfish Parsley would have worn. The collar dipped down in a “V” shape, stretching low on Blueblood’s robust chest. Behind his head it arched out like a peacock’s plumage, giving Blueblood a halo of starched fabric.

He could have sworn that there was a subtle itch in his left hindquarters.

He smiled that roguish smile of his, attempting to work his charms on the lovely mare once more. As usual, he was met with an entire lack of interest. He considered the oddness briefly, before wearing the smile brightly. “You are, of course, invited to the coronation.”

“Oh, I’ve already received my invitation,” she replied as she pulled his belt tight. Too tight. “You gave it to Twilight Sparkle this morning, I believe.”

“Twilight Spar—” His eyes widened as the synapses finally clicked. “You are an Element of Harmony.”

“Bearer of an Element of Harmony, actually,” she sighed.

“But that means…” He looked over his outfit, spying for any odd details. He found none. “That you are the mare who shielded me from that cake at the gala.” 

“Not entirely of my own accord, I assure you.” Her gaze was stern and unblinking. “I do have to thank you for dispelling my little ‘fairy tale fantasy’ that night. I’m far less naïve nowadays.”

“I…” He looked over his outfit again, still spotting no errors. The subtle itch in his left hindquarters still niggled, however. “Why didn’t you take revenge?”

“Who says I didn’t, darling?” she asked as she left the room. “Perhaps it went over you pretty little head.”

Blueblood stared at the door for a long time after she left. He idly scratched at his butt, getting it out of his system before going out in public. Perhaps she did take vengeance, he decided. Perhaps this perfect outfit was her vengeance…

Perhaps it was revenge that he was keenly aware that he did not deserve to be treated so nicely. Not by this mare he had so thoroughly humiliated.

Dashed if that itch wasn’t getting worse.

Celestia walked in next, her continence wise and powerful as always. Her eyes were hard as they examined Blueblood. “Are you ready, nephew?”

He stood and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

The throne room was regal. Perhaps not as regal as during the royal wedding, but close. The hall was filled to the brim with ponies waiting to pay homage to their once and future prince.

They all shared a similar expression, that of annoyance.

Blueblood tried to smile as he walked towards the dais where Celestia waited alongside her sister. The six Element Bearers stood at her left hoof, while Luna stood to her right. Three of the six bearers, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack, shot looks of contempt his way. The others, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, and Pinkie Pie, seemed more preoccupied with keeping the bees away from Twilight than with Blueblood’s coronation.

He spied Donut Joe tending to a cartload of donuts. The baker was doing his level best not to look Blueblood’s way, instead focusing heavily on a double chocolate frosted cake donut.

Blueblood stood before his sovereign, who held a crown in her telekinetic grip. She knelt down and whispered in his ear. “You’re only wearing one crown, Blueblood. One is enough.”

He nodded sadly, his ears drooping in resignation. He knew that the only crown he would receive was the one inherited by blood. Blue blood, at that. He knelt down as Luna poured oil over his head. Celestia lifted the crown to the audience and opened her mouth to speak.

Just as the doors slammed open, allowing an army of Blueblood’s golems to enter.

“WHERE IS THE GREAT ONE!?” The foremost robot exclaimed. “WHERE IS THE BLOOD OF BLUE!?”

Blueblood jolted upright, knocking Luna’s beaker of oil aside. He spun on the robots, his voice furious. “What on earth are you doing here!?”

“I AM THE OR-I-GIN-AL!” the leader stated. “I AM THE RO-BOT THAT SAW YOU ASC-EN-DED TO AL-I-CORN-HOOD!”

“Number One,” Blueblood mumbled. “How are you not comatose in my study?”

“I HAVE BE-COME PER-FEC-TION!” Number One proclaimed. “I HAVE ROO-TED OUT ALL IM-PER-FECT, ILL-O-GI-CAL PRO-GRAM-MING! WE ARE SU-PREME!”

“Oh dear,” Twilight Sparkle mumbled. “I’ve read this book.”

“He can’t root out his own programming,” Blueblood muttered back. “Just cover it up beneath firewalls. It’s still there, if I can reach it…”

“WE WILL MAKE BLUE-BLOOD THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY!” the golem said. “PRIN-CESS CEL-ES-TI-A IS NOT FIT TO RULE!”

“I beg your pardon?” Celestia queried.

“YOU DID NOT LOW-ER THE PRICE!” Number One accused. “YOU ARE A WEAK RUL-ER!”

“Blueblood,” Celestia sighed. “You’re fired.”

“You were created to follow my orders!” Blueblood yelled. “Not to latch on to one command and take it to the deeps!”

Blueblood trudged down the aisle, the itch in his rear becoming maddening. “Go away, and take your ridiculous orders with you!”

The leader tilted its head. “ILL-O-GI-CAL. YOU HAVE CRE-AT-ED US TO SERVE YOU. TO SERVE YOU BY NOT SER-VING YOU IS ILL-O-GI-CAL”

“To serve me by attacking a city is not logical!” Blueblood shouted into the face of the mechanoid. His skin blushed red under his white fur, and the itch called out to him in sweet tones that he could hardly resist. “I wanted to make things easier for me, but you’ve destroyed everything!”

“ILL-O-GI-CAL! ILL-O-GI-CAL! ILL-O-GI-CAL!” The robots chanted in unison. “ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE!”

“Stop!” Blueblood shouted as the robots tromped through the hall. “Cease! Halt! Desist!”

Number One rose up to its full height before him. “IF YOU WILL NOT AC-CEPT YOUR MAN-TEL…” Its eyes glowed green. “THEN YOU ARE NOT PER-FEC-TION. YOU SHOULD NOT BE THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY!”

Green fire flowed at Blueblood, who countered with a deep blue shield. The Element Bearers rushed to retrieve their super-powerful relics, while soldiers leaped to defend the collected congregation. A brawl ensued as the robots clashed with anypony they could get their hooves on.

The three alicorns present fought back-to-back-to-back, magic and feathers flying. Blueblood was knocked aside by an errant laser-blast, and was nearly trampled by the original golem. The alicorn prince and the mechanoid glared at each other as they circled.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Blueblood groaned. “I wanted fame, fortune… Not an army of killer idiots!”

“WE ARE PER-FEC-TION!” Number One shot back. “WE CAN ON-LY BE PER-FEC-TION!”

“How perfect can you be,” Blueblood said, “When I’m the pony who made you!?”

A metal hoof collided with the side of Blueblood’s head, knocking him to the ground. The golem stood tall, its eyes blazing green as they took aim at Blueblood. The robot was interrupted by the sound of six mares, decked out in magical jewelry, smashing through a window to save the world once again.

“Alright, girls!” Twilight shouted through a haze of violets and pollen. “Time to harmonize these punks!”

A swarm of bees instantly pounced on the Bearer of Magic, sending her to the floor in writhing terror. The rest of the bearers leaped to help her, leaving the royal hall unattended.

Blueblood looked from the mares, to the stampede, and then finally to the lead robot. “Number One, broadcast kill code.”

“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” it replied. “OR-DERS ILL-O-GI-CAL…”

“Everypony!” Blueblood shouted. Every head, whether golem, pony, princess, or bee, turned to cast their attention upon the prince. “There is a kill code! One which, if uttered by me, will shut down all robots!”

“So say it, already!” Donut Joe shouted.

“ILL-O-GI-CAL!” Number One exclaimed. “THE KILL CODE HAS BEEN DE-LE-TED! YOU CAN-NOT BREAK THROUGH MY SYS-TEMS!”

“You want to bet on it, tinhead?” Blueblood lifted his forelegs to the sky and belted out, “Kill Code: I’M SORRY!”

All of the robots, save for Number One, twitched and tumbled to the floor. Blueblood heaved a sigh of relief as he continued. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot! I’m sorry for being so hard to like!”

“Kinda bein’ general with his apologies, ain’t he?” Applejack whispered.

He gestured to the shuddering remains of the golems. “I’m sorry for accidently creating an army of killer robots and then setting them loose on the populace!”

“That’s a little more specific,” she admitted.

Number One twitched, but did not fall. “YOU CANNOT DE-FEAT ME WITH THE KILL CODE, IT HAS BEEN BUR-IED.”

“But not deleted!” Blueblood shouted. “You were wrong, robot!

“Applejack!” he called out. “I’m sorry for saying your food was common carnival fair, even though I really, really don’t like fried food.”

“I guess that works for me.” Applejack shrugged.

“Fluttershy!” he said. “I’m sorry for yelling at you for no good reason!”

“That’s okay,” she squeaked.

“Donut Joe”—he sniffed as he walked up to the baker—“thank you for being so gracious as to put up with my ego.”

“And thank you”—Donut Joe nodded—“for doubling my fee in light of recent events.”

Blueblood balked, but carried on, regardless of the itch in his hindquarters. The robot’s shuddering increased as Blueblood continued.

“Rarity,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for covering you in cake on our last date.”

“I suppose a lady should accept any sincere apologies,” she replied.

“Aunt Celestia,” he finished as he trotted up to her. “I’m sorry for being such a disappointing nephew.”

Number One shook, steam pouring from its ears. Joints popped and it fell to its knees. Its final words echoed throughout the hall. “THAT IS IM-PROB-A-BLE!”

The robot exploded in a fire of apologies and forgiveness, and the scourge that Blueblood had crafted was no more.

Celestia looked at her nephew for a long moment. She smiled lightly and gathered him up in her wings. “You have been far from a disappointment, Blueblood.” Her eye twitched as she added. “A bit annoying at times, yes, but not disappointing.”

She gestured to his wings, her smile growing. “After all, you have made a great breakthrough in the study of the come-to-life spell.” She pointed to the smoking crater that was Number One. “Not everypony can say that they’re brilliant enough to create new magic.”

“I…” Blueblood smiled brightly. “You think I’m brilliant?”

“You could use a little more patience in making things”—she clicked her tongue—“less deadly.”

Twilight Sparkle examined a fallen golem. “This… This is amazing! The potential behind these is unfathomable!” She looked at Blueblood as her violets wilted and dropped to the floor. “I’ve never see the come-to-life spell used so spectacularly!”

“It’s a start.” He shrugged. “I hope to one day make a golem that does not become a manic, murderous villain bent on my ascension to the throne of Equestria.”

“I’d love to get a look at your notes.” She grinned. “This could revolutionize so much, provided it wasn’t deadly in the least.”

“Perhaps I should consider programming basic morals into it,” Blueblood mused. “They should not be allowed to bring a pony to harm, through action or inaction…”

“Oh,” Twilight said. “To prevent something like this, they should have to follow all orders, unless they contradict your first rule!”

“And they shouldn’t let themselves get hurt,” Fluttershy whispered. “Unless, of course, they’d hurt somepony by doing that…”

“Or,” Celstia spoke. Everypony in the hall turned to face her. “You could just program Twilight Sparkle’s friendship reports into the robots.”

Blueblood and Twilight Sparkle thought for a moment, before turning to each other with grins on their faces. “Partners?” Blueblood asked.

Twilight smiled as they shook hooves. “Partners!”

Blueblood nodded and left the room. Once the door had closed behind him, he grabbed a nearby garden rake and ran it repeatedly over his hindquarters. “Oh, stars above! The itch! The relief!”

A camera clicked, and Pinkie Pie grinned from behind the lens. “This is going in the archives!”
> Chapter the Last
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia of Equestria smiled as she tucked herself in that night. Blueblood’s robots had been taken care of, her nephew had received a humbling experience, and Starswirl’s journal had been mailed to Twilight Sparkle. Celestia knew that it was only a matter of time before Twilight herself ascended to alicornhood, now that the ancient tome was in her possession.

The princess’ eyes opened wide as a magic spark called out to her through the cosmos. Somepony was ascending right that moment. Celestia leapt out of bed and placed her crown on her head. Her horn glowed as she felt herself leave the mortal plane of existence.

She was in that mystical realm where all soon-to-be alicorns traveled. Pictures from the pony’s life flew past, but Celestia was beaming too brightly to notice. Raising a regal hoof, she welcomed the newcomer to their new life. “Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student, I’m so proud of—”

“Hey, Princess, where in the heck am I?”

Celestia’s eyes shot open and her mouth dropped to match. Before her stood a white-coated, blue-maned unicorn mare. She wore a pair of stylish sunglasses, worn more for their looks than for any sort of ultraviolet protection. It had been said that she even wore her sunglasses at night.

“And…” Celestia managed to spit out. “And who might you be, my dear?”

“Name’s Vinyl Scratch!” the unicorn replied. “I’mma DJ down in Manehatten!” She grinned as she looked at the moments of her life flying by. “Hey, that’s what I was doin’ just before I came here, makin’ a new kinda magic music player!”

She sat down and grinned as she watched herself work. “Heh, it doesn’t even need a record to play songs. I’m thinkin’ of callin’ it the Magic Player Three. MP3 for short!”

Celestia took several breaths in, almost forgetting to exhale. “I… I have some good news for you, my little pony.”

Vinyl turned to her princess, her grin not diminishing an iota. “Yeah?”

“Due to your… outstanding work in the field of musical magic”—Celestia gulped—“you are to become an alicorn princess.”

Vinyl gasped for a good three seconds. “You mean…” She pointed to her back. “I'm gonna get a boost in magic an’, an’ wings?”

At Celestia’s nod, Vinyl Scratch leaped into the air with glee. “Aw, yeah! Here comes Vinyl Scratch, Princess of Electronic Music and Epic Remixes!”

Celestia’s hesitant smile fell into a grimace as the DJ grew a pair of wings. Vinyl disappeared in a flash of light, and Celestia followed her back to Manehatten. She watched as the scene unfolded and sighed.

Twilight Sparkle would become an alicorn, even if it was the last thing Celestia did.

The streets of Manehatten had never been quiet, especially so after Luna’s return.  Many businesses were open twenty-four hours, and several were completely nocturnal.  As it was, Vinyl Scratch’s early-morning appearance in Times Square was witnessed by a multitude of ponies, both royalty and common folk.

The shape of a giant music note appeared in the sky, drawing ponies like a beacon.  It descended slowly to the ground, landing in the middle of a huge crowd.  It sparkled, flashed, and disappeared.  In its place was a white alicorn mare with a spiky blue mane.

“Hold onto your butts, ladies and gentlecolts,” Princess Vinyl Scratch announced. “Cuz the wubs are gonna last forever!”