“Nightmare Moon?” Lyra asks. The harp marked mint green unicorn with the two toned mane looks at me with her hauntingly golden eyes and asks, “What do you know about Nightmare Moon?” “I was in the summer sun celebration,” I say quickly, “And she said um... eternal night I think, and then disappeared. But when she came back, she was Princess Luna.” Lyra frowns at me. She... frowns. It doesn’t look right to see her frowning. It looks scary. “I don’t know how you found out about that,” she says quietly, “But you’re a wise filly to talk about it in private. What do you know about the princess and Nightmare Moon?” Oh shit... that isn’t public knowledge. That explains everything. Of course Celestia wouldn’t let it be known what happened, because she wouldn’t want her sister to be feared and reviled. I am so freaking... lucky that the one pony I did tell about it already seems to know. “A-all I know is that Princess Luna is Princess Celestia’s sister,” I say as honestly as I can to Lyra. “And once a long time ago she was p-possessed by a wicked jealousy that made her try to make the night last forever, so ponies would have to like her again. And now she’s... not. It’s just something Twilight Sparkle—” “Oh, of course,” Lyra interrupts, facehooving. “You’re Rarity’s sister. Of course you are. So one of them spilled the beans, huh?” “M-maybe,” I admit. “But I just want to ask you about Nightmare Moon. It wasn’t really the princess, was it? It was a wicked spirit, that took over her body b-because she was sad, and the Elements of... and my sister and her friends killed the spirit, so Luna could have her body back.” “Go on,” she leans down to me curiously. “T-that’s right, though, isn’t it? It wasn’t really Princess Luna being all... dark and scary?” “Well, I don’t think so,” Lyra admits, “She let the darkness into her heart, but the Nightmare was what controlled her from then on. It’s amazing she’s still... you know,” Lyra briefly swirled a hoof by her head and made her eyes go all wonky somehow, “...not crazy!” “I think it made her sleep,” I say, “But what I wanted to know was, what happened to the Nightmare?” “What happened to it?” Lyra asks looking at me thoughtfully. “Yeah like, it... died, right? Or was it okay somehow? Or is it i-imprisoned somewhere?” Lyra smiles appeasingly, saying, “Don’t worry little filly, the Nightmare is never coming back to scare anypony ever again. Your sister and her friends destroyed it, and it can’t hurt you.” “T-totally destroyed, huh?” “Not a spec of shade left.” Then why does she still have blotches on her butt, I want to grumble. But instead I ask, “What if the Nightmare was nice? Like she was... just trying to live, and not hurt a-anypony? And she just had to take the princess’s body?” “Wow,” Lyra blinks at me. “Wow, you have to be the most compassionate filly I’ve ever met, if you care about nightmares.” “Is that not normal?” I ask, frowning. “I am a normal pony,” I try to assert to her. “The Nightmare fed on the princess’s negative emotions,” Lyra tells me surprisingly coldly, “The worse it could make her feel, the stronger it became. It wasn’t just trying to live. It was trying to kill her, and swallow us all in an unending nightmare. It was trying to hurt literally everypony.” “Oh,” I say in vaguely terrified hope, “Then yes, it was a good thing that they destroyed it! But I mean, if it wasn’t trying to do that, would they have been e-easier on it? Like if it just wanted a body it didn’t have to s-steal from anypony, so that it could live like a... normal pony?” “I... suppose?” Lyra said in puzzlement. “It’s not like this sort of thing happens very often. I mean, this is the princess we’re talking about. She’s pretty important! But no, I think if... it didn’t hurt anypony, we’d at least try to you know, get it out of her without hurting it. I dunno about a body, or whatever. I guess it’s possible in theory? “I think history would be a lot different if the Nightmare wasn’t such a nightmare,” Lyra concluded, shaking her head sadly. “Okay,” I say, trying to ignore the heart hammering in my chest. Trying to ignore how it’s hammering in my chest behind me. “Okay. Um... so, just to be sure, Princess Luna is Princess Celestia’s younger sister, and she got possessed by a spirit that took over her body, and had to be banished until they could destroy it, because it was going to hurt everypony. But if it wasn’t going to hurt anypony, they would try other ways, so that everyone can be s-saved.” “Yep,” Lyra said, “That all sounds about on level. You’re pretty smart for a little filly, you know?” “T-thanks,” I say, looking nervously at the door out of here. “Is this room soundproo—can anypony hear us from outside?” I say in as low a whisper as I can manage. Lyra raises an eyebrow at me, and then her eyes go wide with alarm. Her horn lights up and her magic rises behind me, yanking open the door, just in time for both of my friends to come tumbling in. “Oh, no,” I groan, hanging my head down. “We didn’t hear nothin’!” Apple Bloom yelps unconvincingly, standing to her hooves and ducking her head anxiously. “Yeah, we didn’t hear that Nightmare Moon is the princess’s sister!” Scootaloo offers supportively, scrambling up, herself. “You fillies are a walking disaster,” Lyra moans, making me look at the unsettled looking unicorn mare, cute as a button in her distress. The door shuts behind those two, and Lyra shakes her head, saying, “Now what am I gonna do? You’re just fillies, you can’t be expected to keep a secret like this!” “We can keep a secret just fine!” Apple Bloom says peevishly. “We keep lots of secrets!” “Yeah!” Scootaloo said, “Like the one time Big Macintosh and miss Cheerilee... uh......” Apple Bloom cuffs her across the back of the skull. We need to earn Lyra’s trust fast, before she does something drastic. I could try telling her about the Hearts and Hooves secret they’re keeping, but I can’t just betray them like that. I have like the least right to do so! I’m not even Sweetie Belle! Lyra just hangs her head, and says reluctantly, “I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it now. But you fillies gotta understand how much the princess needs this to be kept secret, now!” Or, I could do nothing, and she’ll just trust us. Huh. “Princess Luna was only trying to help everypony like her better,” I speak up clearly, eyeing my friends. “And it didn’t go well, and she hurt a lot of ponies really bad. But she’s better now, and very sorry, and she’ll never do it again. But um... if ponies found out that she was the one who did it, they’d still be angry.” “Oh, just like when we—” Apple Bloom stuffs her hoof in Scootaloo’s mouth before she can continue to blurt out every detail about the Hearts and Hooves fiasco. “Just give us a chance,” Apple Bloom asks Lyra in an entreating whine. “We’re not stupid. We can be all ...secrety and stuff.” “Not like I have any choice,” Lyra grumbles. “But... okay, just... don’t any of you tell anypony that—” Lyra stops, and looks at the door suspiciously, then gathers the three of us close to her. A flash of her magic makes a bubble sparkle into existence around us, instantly surrounding us in utter silence. Not even the birdsong is audible outside anymore. “...that Princess Luna was Nightmare Moon,” Lyra whispers to us harshly. Another flash of her horn, and the bubble fades with a noisy twinkle. “Cross my heart and hope to fly,” I say confidently. “Stick a—” I stop. They’re all looking at me oddly. I uneasily glance over my shoulder, just to make sure... no Pinkie. Okay, I’m not going to invoke the wrath of the pink one. I just know I’d find a way to break the promise, and I don’t want to meet her, when Pinkie is like...that... “I mean,” I correct myself, crossing a hoof over my chest and blushing. “I promise.” “Ah promise, too!” Apple Bloom utters purposefully. “I’ll try...” Scootaloo says unenthusiastically. Then Apple Bloom kicks her leg, making Scootaloo jerk up startled. “Fine, I promise,” she says, giving Apple Bloom a resentful look. “But no promises. I might mess up and tell somepony, but I will try not to.” “Great!” Lyra says more cheerfully, backing up to regard us all. “Glad that’s all cleared up. You fillies wanna go play or something? I need to get back to my field work.” “No problem, miss uh...” Apple Bloom looks at her searchingly. “Professor Lyra Heartstrings,” I say simultaneously with Lyra. Oops. Blushing, I say to Lyra, “I uh... met one of your students... the lemon yellow one.” “Right, Lemon Hearts was the one who told me you uh...” she looks at the others, “Had something important to tell me.” “Right,” I say cautiously, looking at my friends. “You two go on ahead. I’m almost done I just need to ask her something about my horn and magic, and stuff.” “Sure thing, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom says easily. Scootaloo tilts her head in a nod and raises a wing, turning to match side for side with Apple Bloom, the two trotting right out of the room. “Sorry, uh—” Apple Bloom says, looking back over her shoulder. “Sorry we were listenin’ in. You were just tryin’ to keep the new princess safe, an’ uh... sorry, yeah.” She gallops ahead then to join where Scootaloo is in the hall. Lyra lets the door ease closed in her magic. That was close. I’m not going to tell three ponies, all of whom could spill the beans to someone who could bring the hurt down on me. One is bad enough. I mean, sure those two kept the Hearts and Hooves thing secret all this time, but... maybe it’d be okay. I just want to minimize the danger, and do I really know those two ponies, of whom every instinct tells me are my best friends? I feel like it, but what if that feeling is wrong? I stumble up to Lyra again and carefully whisper “Sound bubble,” to her out of the corner of my mouth, as inconspicuously as possible. Lyra does her magic... thing again. It’s cool to watch her cast it. Or, perceive her cast it, however I’m doing it with my horn. I can feel her magic moving in kaleidoscoping and complex patterns, that then just resolve themselves into this magic bubble thing around us. “I’m so sorry,” I say, sagging with accumulated nervous tension. “They’re just so worried about... me.” “It’s okay little filly,” Lyra says. “I don’t know why you trust me more than your own friends, but... I’ll try to do my best to listen to whatever you have to say.” “Okay...” I say, looking nervously at the fragile seeming glowing barrier of nothing around us. “So, I don’t know how long this b-bubble lasts, so I need to tell you. Um...” “Take your time,” Lyra says, settling to her haunches. Plenty of room for two ponies in here. “This spell is pretty easy, actually. Most students have it pretty much down pat. Really convenient when you have to study in a noisy location.” “Or tell secrets,” I say uneasily. “B-but anyway, I wanted to ask you about Nightmare Moon.” “Alright, shoot,” Lyra says, kicking a hoof out jauntily and laying on her side. I notice her horn is still lit and sort of...flowing with the bubble? It’s hard to see what she’s doing with it, both to understand and keep up with it. So I just... try to figure out how to tell her what I haven’t been able to tell any pony at all, up to this moment. I can’t just back out of it now. I’ve raised so much alarm that if I hide it from Lyra, and I can’t get her support here, she’ll just figure it out anyway, and then I’ll be in even bigger trouble. All my cards are on the table, and for once they’re spread before a complete stranger who actually feels like a stranger to me, not like some friend or family member I feel a frightening amount of love for. “Hypothetically,” I say, trying to ignore the oddity in a little filly using that word. “Let’s say just maybe, that what happened to Princess Luna to turn her into Nightmare Moon happened ...again.” “Are you suggesting that you are afraid another Nightmare possessed Princess Luna?” Lyra exclaims in horror, “How would you even know that? Wow, miss Sweetie Belle. Don’t worry, nopony is ever going to do that to her again.” “No, I mean... what if it happened to somepony else’s sister?” I prompt, blushing heavily. There, I said it. Oh, now she knows. Why did I say it?! Lyra’s alarm only seems to increase at my portentious words. “Oh fluffbunnies filly,” she exclaims, “Rarity!” Lyra’s dancing on her hooves in excitement and terror. “Of course it’d go after one of the Elements,” she champs out, “We’d be totally helpless! Nothing could stop it then. Oh applesauce and hayfires; why didn’t I see it coming? Oh filly, you might just have saved—” “No, wait!” I squeak desperately. The comics cannot be canon, no! It shall not be! Also, Lyra’s got the wrong idea! “That’s not what I meant!” I protest as forcefully as a little 8 year old girl can. Who’s also a horse. I tremble there, trying to pull myself together. Trying to ignore that... feeling of being me, of turning to nervously face sideways towards Lyra, on four little hooves, with frustrated but also very frightened feelings in my chest. Which is behind me. My chest is behind me. “What did you mean, then?” Lyra asks, giving me an odd, calculating stare. “What if it happened to somepony else’s younger sister!” I exclaim in tremulous frustration. Then I just stare at her, reduced to nothing but trembles. Lyra’s eyes dawn with realization, and mine with anxious acceptance. I–I said it. I told someone. Did I? I was just trying to... oh god why did I say that? Again. My heart sinking in my chest, my haunches fall to the floor. I can feel the cool wood on my little tickly vulva more than anywhere else on my furry bottom. I want to feel everything, and I might never be able to again. I can feel my heels coming down, like I have feet again flat against the floor. Can feel my tail, that I can curl around my haunches in apprehension. The tension in my shoulders, which are my elbows, the soft curls of my mane falling to the left over my thick neck, and the misty dreamy whispery horn on my head. I don’t want to ever stop feeling any of this. I blink. “...you’re serious, aren’t you,” Lyra says neutrally, just looking at me. “I–I am,” I say with a tremble in my voice. She lifts a hoof, pointing it towards me saying uneasily, “So you’re not...” “I’m not Sweetie Belle,” I answer with a slight nod. “P-please don’t hurt me,” I add to that, unable to stop warbling like a child. Lyra just... stares. Behind a soft green blue mane, her golden eyes match the aura on her horn. She’s so heart achingly pretty. I... I told her. My chest hurts. “I don’t know how to save her,” I tell the stunned unicorn, my words falling out of me now as easily as the tears from my eyes. “Sweetie Belle came back, but then she went away again. I can’t hear her anymore, a-and I didn’t do anything to her. I just woke up like this, and I didn’t take her body I promise. I d-don’t want to go back I’m so scared of going back. I just want to be a normal pony like Sweetie Belle a-and I can’t because...” I swallow hard, trying to collect myself somehow, and stop hyperventilating. “I woke up like this,” I explain with a tight voice, “When that thing happened to me in the Badlands. Sweetie had a horn surge, and then I was her. Then, two days ago, I was... doing something, and Sweetie Belle started talking to me. I-in my head, I think. I thought it was gonna be okay then, that she was gonna be okay. But just yesterday, she stopped being able to talk to me. I don’t know how to get her back! “She t-told me about you,” I mumble disconsolately, my stupid voice cracking as I force the words out, “We tried finding out about what I was in the library and how to help her, b-but Sweetie’s not good at reading yet, and I can’t read at all. So she thought you might be able to help. Then she—was gone, and I don’t think she can talk to me anymore. “I couldn’t tell Rarity because she’d freak out if her sister was in danger. But I can’t help it. It’s just happening to me, too! I couldn’t tell Twilight, I mean... any of them, because what they did to Nightmare Moon I—I was scared they’d do it to me. My friends don’t know—I mean her friends—it’s hard to think of myself as not her sometimes. So please don’t tell them, but I mean... “Help,” I say, choking back a sob. Lyra gives me a hug. No, no she doesn’t give me a hug. She envelops me. Surrounding me with her body, and cradling her hooves around my chest, she lays her head over mine, pushing me down, but I don’t care. This is the most amazing feeling ever, and I couldn’t care as long as I feel like this. My eyes are burning as my tears fight themselves out of me, everything around us is eerily quiet, and I don’t care because I feel safe like this. I don’t know why she’s doing this; she’s not my mom, or my relative, or even a friend. She’s just a pony who knows me, and I’m a pony who needs a hug. Bad. After I’ve settled down enough, she says, “There, feel any calmer now? It’s gonna be okay, little filly.” “I’m not a little filly,” I grumble, sniffling as I wipe a pastern across my nose. “You sure act like one,” she says in a note of peculiar amusement. “I’m not... this little filly,” I clarify for Lyra. “I feel like her, but my mind is someone else.” “Close enough,” Lyra shrugs against me. “I know you’re worried about Sweetie Belle, but... well, unless you’re lying, and secretly terrorizing her inside, I don’t think there’s any chance she’s not okay.” “You just believe me,” I say scrunching my curls to tilt my head up until my horn bumps her chest, looking at her above me, “Just like that?” “Well, you could be completely insane,” Lyra admits, “But I like to go with the more feasible possibility.” “...being insane is less feasible?” I ask her warily. “Insanity is very rare in ponies,” Lyra explains blithely, “I did tell you about how Princess Luna is still sane, right?” ...huh. “Plus,” Lyra went on, “It’s not like nothing happened to you. I’ve already deduced you’re one of those fillies who went to the Badlands, and any number of a bunch of peculiar things could have happened to you. Why not just go with the most obvious one?” “S-so I don’t think you can tell Twilight yet,” I say nervously, “She was excavating the... thing that did this to me, but if she finds out, she might just you know—” “Are you kidding?” Lyra asks me, standing up from where she embraced me while I remain lying on the floor. “Let that unicorn steal the spotlight again?” Lyra exclaims boldly, “Soon as she gets in on it, everypony will think it’s all about her, and none of the rest of us get to be the one who saved the world. And now, she’s leading a research expedition on the Meteor of Tales, while the rest of us just sit here doing maintenance science? Well, not this time!” I swear there are rays of Lyra colored light radiating from her as she says, “This time it’s my turn to shine! A genuine infant nightmare, fully sentient! This could be the advent of a whole new species, a sort of dream creature if you will. This is big, huge! And it’s all mine. I’m the only pony who knows.” Okay now she’s rubbing her cannons together with a grin like some kind of evil villain. “They laughed at me back at the—” “Okay, if you’re done monologuing,” I interrupt, cutting that off right away. “How do I bring Sweetie Belle back? She said she can feel everything that I can, but only recently could she actually talk back to me. Or talk using my mouth, I’m not sure.” Lyra looks at me solemnly, eye to golden eye. “Filly, whoever you are, or whatever you are, this isn’t something I can just fix right away. This has... well perhaps it happened once, but there was no chance to study the Nightmare. Soul magic is not my area of expertise, and I’d need to make some discrete inquiries. I... I don’t know how much I can do for you this afternoon. I’m not Twilight Sparkle, after all.” “She hasn’t been able to find anything either,” I say unhappily. “I haven’t told her, but she has the m-machine that did this to me. Or... spell or something. It was like a hexagonal chamber with a metal grating on the floor. I-it was deep underground, not any sort of meteor.” “That’s fascinating,” Lyra says breathily, “You probably shouldn’t tell that to anypony else either, because they are not revealing what’s going on over there, not even to me.” “Other than that, it looked mostly like just normal archaeology,” I say reluctantly, “Except for the horn surge... thing. Do you really think Sweetie Belle is okay?” “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lyra tells me with a cheeky grin, “We all have troubles in life, but I like to think that everything’s gonna work out alright in the end. And that attitude has never let me down.” I stare at her until I can’t stop a hiccupping sob and great. I’m crying again, lifting my hoof to wipe at my eyes in distress. Sweetie Belle’s eyes. “Oh, filly what’s wrong?” Lyra exclaims in concern, hovering nervously over me. “My whole life I w-wished ...that was true and it never was,” I tell her tearfully, around choked noises of distress, “And it always let me down u-until... until I couldn’t even... wish anymore I j-just...I can’t...” Lyra can’t comfort me; she doesn’t even know me! This is a job for Rarity, or my mom or my dad, or that big stuffed bunny I saw in my toy chest. All the ponies I can’t tell. “I should tell her,” I say in a defeated tone, just collecting my hooves under me and staring at the ground. “I bet Twilight Sparkle could fix this, if I could just tell her. W-where I’m from. She has all the... access to the machine, and the archaeologists. If she knew, she could... she could open the portal again a-and... “I never ever want to go back there,” I tell Lyra so intensely, after collecting myself again. “It was horrible! I just... I don’t want to go back, so I couldn’t tell her! I don’t know anyo—anypony in this world, not really, so I just tried randomly picking a pony to trust. But that’s stupid. I’m just stupid, making Sweetie in danger a-and not saving her like I should.” “Calm down filly,” Lyra says, her hoof stroking along the curve of my back. “It doesn’t sound like you have the answers any more than I do. Look, just give me a chance, okay? We can go to miss most faithful student if I come up blank. But I’m confident that you, or I, can find a way to at least... I dunno, switch so Sweetie is the one in control again. Once I learn what you are, then we can think about separating you two. I promise I won’t send you back to uh... whereever you didn’t want to go. Just... give me a day. I wish I could have a week, but I’ll drop everything for this. I’m not kidding that this could make my career. Do you know what a career is?” I sniffle and look at her. “Yeah, it’s...” then it occurs to me that things are so different now. I’m in a new world, with new rules. And the only career I ever knew in my old world, was one that was forever denied me. “No, I’m not sure that I do,” I say musing almost to myself. “When a pony gets their cutie mark,” Lyra explains, indicating the harp on her flank, “She learns the story of her life, how things are gonna work out for her. Not the future set in stone, but what she’s good at, and what’s good for her. You know what I was doing?” “...soothing the savage beast?” I guess, considering her interests so far and all. “Oh, you’re good” Lyra says narrowing her eyes at me. “But yes, there was a rampaging Meralophion, who I lulled right to sleep, because I learned what it was, and how it responded to music. So, my ‘career’ is learning about magical creatures. Ponies think I’m in an orchestra or something, but what I do is based on my story, not just what appears on my rump. A career is just... it’s what you do with your life. It’s what your cutie mark really means. Or er...” She glances at my rump, and I blush despite myself. I don’t have anything there at all. “What your cutie mark will mean,” she qualifies. “Okay,” I say carefully. “That makes... sense, but um... do you think your career will help Sweetie Belle? What are you gonna even do?” “We’ll have to do tests,” Lyra suggests, “To see what she responds to, and what is going on with you and her.” She gets her bright green face up really close to me then, and tugs at my cheek with a hoof, while staring steadily into my eye, with one of her big golden ones. “Your eyes are usually greyish green, right?” Lyra asks. Leaning back from her unsure, I say, “Yes. Um. Sweetie Belle’s eyes are supposed to be that color, at least.” “The Nightmare even changed Luna’s eyes,” Lyra explains with a shudder. “Eye color is pretty fundamental to a pony’s personality.” “It is?” I ask curiously. “Yes, ponies under the influence of enchantments, often the first thing you’ll want to look for is a change in their eyes. A glowing light, dilated or narrowed pupils, change in eye color,” Lyra remarks vaguely, looking above me and flicking my ear with a hoof. It flicks. “So er, I don’t want to leave my—I mean her friends waiting,” I say to Lyra. “I think I worried them. I still have to think of what to pretend I asked you.” “Pretend you asked me?” she asks looking at me with searching eyes. “I haven’t ...told them yet,” I admit. “That’s what’s really puzzling me about all this,” Lyra says, looking at me seriously. “Why trust me of all ponies? Why not your friends? Why not your family?” “Because they’re Sweetie Belle’s friends!” I answer bitterly. “And Sweetie Belle’s family! I feel like I know them, but all I know are stories about them. I don’t know any pony here at all, and so... I just had to pick somepony! I tried for somepony s-smart, and... who might be able to help, and who could keep it a secret. I may not know Rarity, or mom and da—Cookie and... whatsisname who’s my dad, but I do know they wouldn’t be okay with this. So I just... don’t want things to get out of hand.” “Well, just tell them uh, that you had to ask me about the sound bubble spell,” Lyra says. “Should be easy enough, if you hurry and catch up with them.” “Okay, I’ll do that,” I say looking over my shoulder briefly at the closed door beyond our bubble. “How can I um... meet you again?” I ask, “This was way too close. I was just desperate because... Sweetie Belle might be ...hurt. I just needed to do something.” Lyra tapped her chin then brightened saying, “Hey, your parents probably don’t even know I’m some visiting professor. Why don’t we exchange letters, like we’re pen-pals or something?” “That’d be a good idea,” I tell her with flat ears, “Except I can’t read.” “Oh... you can’t? That’s right, you mentioned...” Lyra says thoughtfully. “I can read my letters, but pony I mean, Equestrian ones are just... different,” I say. “And they’re all in cursive too!” Lyra can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, ponies love their pretty lettering,” she said. “I think I know some adult ponies who can’t read my hornwriting.” I have so many questions. Why oh why must time be of the essence now?! “OK so that won’t... work,” I say. “I need to get Sweetie back though. I—I don’t just wanna be a monster who k-kills her without even trying.” “Filly, don’t even think that,” Lyra says in unconcealed horror. “Kill? What kind of sick pony teaches a filly a... nightmare that death can happen by accident? Is that what you came from, really?” “...you can’t die by accident?” I ask skeptically. “Oh you can, but it’s just... really negative thinking,” Lyra says. “The last time anypony died on accident was in the howling shades catastrophe over a hundred years ago, and there are conflicting accounts as to whether that pony was ever alive to begin with.” “Doesn’t anypony get eaten by a dragon?” I ask incredulously. “Or quarray eels or... big star bears?” “That would hardly be an accident,” Lyra says rolling her eyes. “Oh, so if they mean to do it, then killing isn’t bad?” I retort at her. What kind of crazy moral is that? “No, it’s horrible!” Lyra says. “But killing somepony by accident? There’s no bad guy then, and no way to make things better!” I... need to think about that. And I’m really getting nowhere here. “I’ll just go... find my friends again,” I say, reaching out to touch the bubble of magic. It’s glassy smooth and solid. “I promise I’ll contact you again, as soon as I can,” Lyra says earnestly to me. “If not tomorrow, then before the end of the week. We’re gonna get Sweetie Belle back, even if I have to... ugh... ask Twilight for help again.” She cancels the sound bubble with a flash from her horn, and my hoof abruptly falls forward making me stumble to balance. “Pretty cool, eh?” Lyra says with a smile and a wink. “You can’t hear anything from outside with that spell. It’s really great for if you want to read, or have some quiet time!” I blink, and then my eyes light up. “Oh, yes,” I say, “I really hope I can learn that spell sometime. But now my friends are waiting, so I’ll just be going.” “Have fun filly, and don’t forget to study!” Lyra says with a forced grin... I think. Looking over my shoulder, I set about trying to get myself turned around, so I can walk out the door. Oh that’s right, I can do that now. I can freaking walk! That is so cool. “Uh, what are you doing, filly?” Lyra asks, while I’m in the middle of rolling to twist around on my side to face the appropriate direction. I look at her, then just keep wiggling, finally getting to my belly, and standing up from there with a quick jump of my forelegs. “I’m still having trouble walking,” I tell her, lifting a hoof to go forward, but still unsure if I can talk and walk at the same time. I take a step, counting 3,1,2,4, and say, “I um...” okay, step with all four hooves, swaying, “My amnesia—” I stumble. I look back at a lost looking Lyra, saying, “Dr. Ace at the hospital is helping me, but um... yeah, still trying to r-remember it.” Then I face forward, and just try to let my body fall forward, pushing my hooves in the right pattern, walk, walk, walk. I make my way out of the study room, and into the hallway, where Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are lounging around looking bored. “Finally,” Scootaloo says in an exasperated tone. “We were starting to get hungry waiting for you!” “Oh, sorry,” I say bashfully. “I just wanted to ask about her sound... spell. It really is sort of like a kaleidoscope, and then it’s just a bubble! It’s really neat.” “All ah saw was a bubble,” Apple Bloom said skeptically. Shrugging, I say, “It’s probably this weird horn sticking into my brain. It makes it easier for stuff to get to me.” Scootaloo blinks, and says, “That’s the... scariest thing I’ve ever heard anypony say about a horn.” “Oh, s-sorry,” I blush drooping my head down. “Was that too much? I don’t really feel in danger, just more sensitive maybe.” “It’s th’ truth,” Apple Bloom says, nuzzling me gently in the shoulder. “Earth ponies are tough. Caint expect other tribes to not have at least some advantage.” “Pegasi are pretty tough too,” I say to Apple Bloom, with a meaningful look at Scootaloo. “The cool thing about earth ponies is that they’re tricky.” “You mean like sneaky?” Apple Bloom whines, “Ah ain’t sneaky! Why would you say that?” “Sneaking can be good sometimes,” I hastily correct myself, “But no I didn’t mean you were sneaky. I meant that when Scootaloo uses magic, her wings move, and it’s really noisy. She can fly around like crazy, and I can barely hold on. It looks awesome, but it’s really... easy to see.” “And I’ve got this,” I say, tapping the horn in my forehead again. “Super obvious. But you?” I poke Apple Bloom in her furry little chest. “You don’t have any of that stuff, but you’re just as magic as I am. So what do you have then? Nopony knows! You just are! And um... that’s what I meant. It’s hard to say what makes you special, because it’s really mysterious.” “Okay, ah guess,” Apple Bloom says unhappily. “Ah’m as forthright as ah cain be though, so ah dunno what you mean by mysterious.” “I’ll try to point it out if I see it,” I say, “But it’s just my guess... you should ask your p—your sister if you want to know. Oh uh, or your brother might be better actually.” “You remember mah brother?” Apple Bloom says with a bright smile. “How could I not?” I say unable to help from smiling back. “He’s Big Macintosh!” “Well, let’s go see him then!” Apple Bloom says eagerly. “Can we eat some apples there at least?” Scootaloo gripes at Apple Bloom. “Ah’m not all that—” Apple Bloom tells her, right as my stomach decides to loudly support Scootaloo’s diatribe. “Eheh,” I say with maybe a little blush. “Sorry, maybe we should eat.” “We don’t even got an hour left anyway,” Apple Bloom says glumly. “Ah just got so caught up in all that cool science stuff.” “Where are we meeting um... our um... I’m supposed to return to my parent’s house?” I ask uncertainly. “Sorry, amnesia,” I mumble. “Ah think so,” Apple Bloom says scratching at the ground. “Guess it’d be best if we just dropped you off there, and Scoots can eat at mah house.” “When can I see you again?” I ask the two. “Tomorra mornin’!” Apple Bloom says happily. Scoots elbows her in the side. “Sorry, ah forgot about your therapy walkin’ thing,” Apple Bloom says less happily, ears drooping. “At least we can meet in the afternoon, though,” Scootaloo points out, Apple Bloom giving a slight nod at that. “Oh!” I realize, “Actually, he decided to wait until... Wednesday, whenever that is, so that I can practice walking. I don’t have anything that I know of tomorrow morning.” “Great!” Apple Bloom says straightening up and smiling at me brightly. “We all got all day that day, so we can do something!” “What is today, anyway?” I ask. “I don’t really know when Wednesday is.” “Today is Sunday,” Scootaloo says promptly. “So that means Wednesday is... um...” Apple Bloom taps her hoof a couple times. “3 days from now,” she announces. “Monday, Tuesday, Wednersday.” Oh my god her accent is adorable. “I’m really glad that’s so,” I say gratefully. “What are we gonna do since we can play then?” “What about canoeing?” Scootaloo interjects excitedly. Both of us turn in her direction, and she explains, “I just thought of a great way to get our cutie marks is maybe in canoeing!” “Don’t you need a river for canoeing?” I point out. Scootaloo winces at that, but not for any stunning realization on my part. “Aw,” Apple Bloom says disappointedly, “Th’ lake is somewhere round 10 miles northeast of here, plus they won’t let us ride in a boat if we don’t have a big pony with us.” Scootaloo nods to her in sad agreement. “What about building a canoe?” I ask, giving Apple Bloom a particular look in that respect. “Maybe we could...” “That’s a great idea, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom says, turning to me with a bright smile, making me feel all warm inside. I dunno, she just, it’s not like I need her approval, but she’s just really nice to me. To Sweetie Belle at least. “Let’s go to the lake then,” Scootaloo says happily. “That’s lots of walking practice to get there.” “I don’t really wanna walk there,” I say leerily. “Since you have to keep up with me the whole way, and I’d be really slow. Are there places I can walk by myself when we get there, just in circles or something?” “It’s a lake, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom says, rolling her eyes at me, “There’s a walkin’ trail all around it!” Huh, that’s... well, mud might be a problem... or cliffs... or giant squids, but otherwise that sounds pretty neat, actually! “That sounds gre҉at!” I tell her happily. “There are also boats!” Scootaloo says eagerly. “And a weird boat pony!” “Oh, I dunno if that’s a good idea,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t remember if I can swim.” “Ah told ya they don’t let us on the boats,” Apple Bloom says in an offended tone, “Not without an adult or nothin’. An’ we always wear our life vests!” “Well, that’d be good then,” I say agreeably. Nice to know some things require adult supervision at least. “We can still look at them though,” Scootaloo puts in grumpily, “And maybe there’ll be an adult there too besides the weird boat pony.” “What’s wrong with the weird boat pony?” I ask curiously. “You’ll see,” Apple Bloom says, shaking her head, “Mostly it’s just that nopony cain even figure out what she’s sayin’ half the time.” “Alright let’s stop talking so Sweetie Belle can walk,” Scootaloo snaps at her. “I’m hungry, already!” I start to respond, but then just close my mouth and lift a hoof. It’s easypossible if I’m not trying to talk. Just walk, walk, walk down the hallway. Scootaloo gallops ahead, while Apple Bloom stays with me, and as I emerge on the stone porch outside the study hall, Scootaloo’s already got the scooter/wagon assembly there, with her helmet on tight, and two other helmets in the bed of the wagon. Apple Bloom helps get mine on again, and I... try to help with hers, though she can do it herself somehow. Then I look at Scootaloo and say, “Okay, ready!” and with a buzz of Scootaloo’s wings, the wagon tugs under me and I hold on tight as we accelerate across the plaza in the direction that Scootaloo wants us to go. I’m not sure if I’m just used to it now or if she really is going slower, but holding on tight and watching the ponies zooming towards us, past us, then out of sight behind us, I don’t feel like I’m gonna die this time. Actually it feels pretty... fun. I can’t believe her wings can make her go that fast. Shouldn’t we be getting buffetted by gale force winds back here? I wonder what her airfoil looks like. My heart does stop when Scootaloo turns, and the wagon jumps in the air, but then it settles right smoothly to the ground behind her, as she skillfully navigates the increasingly crowded streets. Well, maybe skillfully is an exaggeration, but the ponies she would have barrelled into seem to have no trouble scrambling out of the way. I think I see Lemon Hearts again, or Jib or whatever she wanted me to call her. Someone yellower than Apple Bloom. Basically all I can recognize are colors though, at these speeds. The lay of the land changes, from closed to more open, with lots of space between houses, and the dirt we ride upon less trammelled by pony hooves. It gets hillier too, and before me I can see the great mountains which separate us from Appleoosa, towering like a solid ridge of spires in the distance. Between them and us, are rows of rolling hills filled with trees covered in dots of bright red. Sweet Apple Acres. I have plenty of time to gaze at the apple orchard in awe, when Scootaloo hangs a right and spends a lot of time travelling along a road following a stream that parallels the orchard in the distance. There are a few houses beyond the stream, but the bulk of them pretty much end here, an informal city limits I suppose. The stream itself is far too large to jump over, and flows with an active burbling complimenting the steady buzz from Scootaloo’s wings. The stream abruptly diverts away from the road, and we continue on forward past some tentlike structures and—oh my gosh, it’s Rarity’s boutique! There it is, right there! Are we going there? I thought we were going to my parents’! “What—” I shout in the wind, just as we turn hard right, directly opposite the boutique, jetting along the street as it recedes from us while I hook my hooves over the back of the wagon, staring after her boutique from behind. I try to remember where the boutique is, relative to where we are. Scootaloo makes a left turn, and then we’re mostly going straight from there, so I try to remember the boutique is to the right if you go down this street. The road goes up a hill, as the houses behind us fall further and further below, but before I can see over the tops of the darned two-story tall things, Scootaloo hangs another left, passing two tall cottages, and then winding down a steep hill. I turn my head backwards, which is to say I look in the direction we’re going, and there I see another stream approaching us. Beyond the stream is greenest grass, and thicker and thicker tree cover. Before the stream, at the mouth of a deep lake, is a tall building with a windmill atop it, and a water wheel. And next to it, there’s my house. Right by the stream like this, it looks like we’re nestled right at the edge of town. It’s an interesting location. I never thought Sweetie lived way out here. Slowing, Scootaloo weaves around behind my house to turn the wagon around completely, stopping it right at my front door. “See you tomorrow, after breakfast, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom says kindly, after I crawl over the side and flop down. I nod, fiddling with the strap on my neck. How did you push that thing again... okay it depresses and slides open. I push the helmet off my head, lowering it in my hooves saying, “That’d be great, Apple Bloom! Um... is this my helmet, or should Scootaloo take it?” “Whattya mean or?” Scootaloo says abrasively. “Of course it’s your helmet. Now toss it in it in the wagon so that Apple Bloom and me can go eat!” I just kind of dumbly throw the helmet in the wagon, trying to figure out what she meant by that. Scootaloo buzzes off then in the direction she came from, and I sit there waving, saying, “Thanks for um... keeping it for me!” “Bye Sweetie!” Apple Bloom repeats, before they round the back of my house. Then I can hear them on the other side, crossing a bridge and vanishing beyond the treeline. So, that was a thing. That happened. Okay, take stock. Here I am, by myself... finally. I don’t have any idea how to save Sweetie, but I told a pony, and it didn’t blow up in my face. And she said she’d try to help. I guess if I don’t see her, then... I’ll just have to find her again. If I can find that tower, then I can just wait for her again. I guess it makes sense that other ponies who went to her school would see Twilight as a sort of Golden Child, but it still made me uneasy with how eager Lyra was to keep my secret. That leaves me wondering whether I should respect her and keep quiet, or whether Twilight Sparkle really is the miracle worker she is in the show, and I should tell her right away. In any case, I have no way to contact Twilight, except through Rarity, and just the thought of telling Rarity that Sweetie isn’t me... just fills me with dread. “I’m sorry Sweetie, I guess you’ll have to wait longer,” I say to myself out loud. At the edge of town, no ponies around, I should be safe talking to her. As long as my parents don’t come running out to sweep me up in their arms or anything. I eye the door for a while, but it doesn’t open. “I don’t know if you can hear me Sweetie Belle, but I am trying my best,” I say alone, to the air in front of me. “Maybe not... my best, but I am trying. I won’t just let you go away, so just hold tight, and I’ll try to do something about it. It’s... it’s not your fault, Sweetie. You may have been bad by running away and going to the Badlands, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to lose your body and just... be stuck like this, without any way to talk to anypony. I wish I could...” a sigh shudders up in my chest. “Help you,” I say in a whispery voice. There’s no answer. Standing up, pushing my front hooves down and buoying up my back ones, I rise a stunning half a foot into the air, which is what I’d guess the height difference is between me sitting and standing up. As luck would have it I’m still pointed at my front door, and raising a hoof, I try not to think about it as I make the necessary motions to get there, wobble-trundling forward until I’m face to face with the door. It doesn’t have any opening mechanism I can see, certainly not a doorknob but when I rear up and lean against it, it just swings open freely. A swinging door for a front door? I guess this place doesn’t have any crime or something. It’s pretty quiet inside the house. I don’t see anyone in the kitchen. Not that I go in there, just craning my neck around to look as I move forward in a straight line. I’m hungry, but... really I just want to lay on my bed right now, to just unwind from some of the stuff that went on today. I’d say it was my most exciting day yet, but I think the giant plant monster beats that pretty solidly. So I walk through the living room, and right to the stairwell, where with a confident smirk, I place a hoof on the lowest stair. Up and up I climb. The hardest thing is the flights, where I have to turn around to get to the next one. But two flights up, and I’m where my parent’s bedroom is presumably. I haven’t seen them, and there isn’t much on this floor besides the washroom where I brushed my teeth, and a door now closed, where my parents sleep. Continuing up the next two flights of stairs, I’m finally at the threshold to my room, a lavender purple framed door. Er, Sweetie Belle’s room I mean. Sighing in relief, I lift a hoof and push open the... the door doesn’t swing open. Sitting down in utter confusion, I regard my bedroom door in growing despair. There, just above eye level, right at the level of my inexperienced little unicorn horn, is a bright, brassy, round doorknob.