>A solid eight you would say, leaning back upon the lounge chair as you are. Her tricks and deeds are most certainly one of the highest accord.
>Only through her continued practice, by shaving off the most minute of flaws that plague her form will she be successfully admitted into the Wonderbolts.
>Your hands hold the back of your head as you continue to watch her performance, though you find it more of an attempt than the actual feat itself. Miss Dash has a tendency to move fast after all.
>With her wings flexed, Rainbow rips right through the center of a cloud only to turn the full 180 degrees and reperform the same motion, the cloud splitting off into 4 separate pieces.
>Hmm, that is a curious thing. Dash lands, flicking her mane to the side in the way she does, “How about them apples?”
“Why would one use the measurement of temperature to gauge an angle?” You realize Miss Dash would not know, but find the question needs to be asked regardless. “Surely the intellectuals of the world could make use of separate scales, no?”
>“Two birds with one stone I guess,” she answers in a shrug. “I like to leave all the nerdy stuff to the eggheads… Your head is kind of eggish, Anon.”
>You needn’t look to know of the sly smile that resides upon her face. She thinks this might insult you in some childish sort of way? Inconceivable.
“To have the honor of being compared to the greatest minds of Equestria would do nothing more than please me.”
>“I’m sure it would you egghead.” Wiping off the sweat from her forehead she falls back onto your lap with her head hanging off the side. “Ahh, you’re pretty comfy, you know that?”
>You wish you could say the same, but the feeling of her spine digging into your pelvic region leaves much to be desired. “All that working out really built up my appetite. How about you go fix that?”
>You could end her hunger true enough. She is lucky that her destination would not be one that merely replaces one appetite for another. Don’t think like that. Never about her.
“Allow me to see what I can do.”
>Slipping your legs out from beneath her she takes your place on the chair, “You even got it nice and warm for me. How thoughtful.”
“It was not my-” She knows this. You know that she knows, and given her time with you it is safe to assume that she knows that you know that she… “Yes. My backside heated it for your leisure. I find the least one could say after such a gift would be-”
>“Thank you.” Strange, she says this with almost a lack of sarcasm in her voice. Genuine, that is how you would describe it. The thought brings a smile to your face.
“You are most welcome.”
>“Still hungry though.”
>You are well aware.
 
>Moving off you peer into the pantry once more and find nothing of substance. Perhaps the fridge?
>When the door is open, you once more find nothing to your liking, or Rainbow’s.
>Almost in a haze you walk back to the pantry, scanning the confines of the aquamarine shelves when a thought strikes you. Why?
>Had you not already searched the compartment once? If so, then why again? Strange… The fridge then?
>Just as you expected, no provisions have miraculously appeared within it. It is no ‘end of days’ but it must surely be the start.
“Miss Dash,” you call out to her though she resides just around the corner out of sight but not of mind, “I speculate we may not have proper ingredients for a meal of your standards.”
>“Well what do you have?”
>You check the labels of several bottles, avoiding the large cache of alcohol that never seems to run dry.
“Perhaps I might try my hands at a raisin and mustard stew with added relish and Applejack Daniels. I must declare though,” you rub your stomach, “the very thought appears to have upset me.”
>“As great as that sounds I’d rather not get bed sick for another week thanks to your lousy cooking.” It’s not that lousy… “I’m sure we can think of something.”
>Yes, you are sure. “Hey, I got an idea,” she shouts back at you, “Let’s fly down to Ponyville and grab a bite at Yum-Yum’s Café.”
“A fine idea, though my wings have not grown in quite yet,” you flex your shoulder blades in a joking manner, despite the fact that she no longer sees you. “I must find another mode of transportation.”
>You can see the flare of her wings as she performs another round of stretches. “I’d carry you, but… you know…”
>Is- she attempting to say you are too heavy? The gaul.
“You are not as light as you might expect either,” you look through the doorway as her own head peeks around to match your stare.
>“Get me some water, maid.”
“As you wish, Miss Beer Belly.”
>You hear her grumble lightly before you turn to fulfill your task.
 
>With a firm squeeze of the plush cloud you fill her glass with the crystal-esque water.
>Looking both ways, as Miss Dash has a tendency to sneak about when your mind is distracted, you take a sip before refilling the cup. “I’m not getting any older here,” her call snapping your head to her direction.
“Of that I am all but certain,” releasing the cloud you head off towards the balcony. “When we do arrive…”
>You pause, ceasing all motion as you stare back into the glass in your grasp, staring at the slight discoloration within it. “When we arrive…” her attempts to distract you do not work this time as you return to the sink.
>Without a moment to spare you pour the water into the drain and latch back onto the cloud, the clop of hooves bringing Dash to you. “Hey, what gives? I was going to-”
“Silence!” you snap, causing her to recoil in fear. Control, you must learn control. “Please… Something- No, it is nothing. My mind is merely playing tricks on me.”
>Another squeeze and your fingers milk the cloud of its prize, water. You sigh in relief, the heat in your chest subsiding at last. “Was something wrong?”
“As I thought, I saw an illusion, nothing more. This water is as clean and clear as-” the words catch in your throat as the drops grow brown. “No. Not this day…”
>With your other hand you rip the cloud from its place and take a bite, “Hey! Those are hard to tame you know!”
>Hmm, it is sweet. Do rainclouds taste sweet? You have not eaten a cloud before, but he has. He loves the taste of candy, even bestowing it upon the purest of things, but this cloud is not the proper tint.
“Taste this,” you hold the cloud out to her, her hesitation even a foal could discern, “Please.”
>“No funny business?”
“I will not joke with you today,” you keep your tone as firm as you can. You do not wish to confuse her by accident.
>She scrunches her nose and lips before, with a sigh, takes a bite, her eyes lighting up in the act.
“How does it taste? Is it the normal flavor a cloud such as this would have?”
>She shakes her head and your grasp of the cup tightens. With a gulp, she licks her lips, “I’ve never had a cloud taste like that before. It’s so sweet.”
“What does it taste like?” you can hear the cup cracking under pressure, but you must know. “If you had to describe it as one object, what would it be?”
>Please don’t be him. Please don’t… “Uhh… I guess I’d say it taste like,” she takes another bite and smiles, “Cotton Candy.”
>Your vision grows hazy as shards of glass fall to the floor.
 
>“Your hand!” What? Looking down you discover the glass that once stayed clutched in your grasp utterly shattered. “Let me get some-”
“You must leave for Ponyville at once.” There is no time for her to worry over such a trivial injury. “Find the remainder of your friends, Miss Dash. You will need them.”
>Walking over to the sink you discard the remaining shards in your hand, extracting one piece that skewered itself straight through you. She still remains, doesn’t she? You did not hear her leave, true.
>“What’s going on? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Let me help you.”
“Listen!” Your head feels as though it is about to split in two as you snap around to her. To Tartarus with these aches and pains, you will not allow them to control you. “Please, you must go. Equestria depends on you now, you and your friends.”
>Your fingers tremble as you pull the glass free and deposit it into the sink, smaller pieces still dug into your flesh here and there. At least you are able to use your hand freely now.
>Why…? She must leave now. Looking down you exhale deeply and rest your palms against the counter.
“All will be revealed later, but you must trust me… Equestria needs you now more than I.”
>When chaos returns to the land what matters most? The warmth of another.
>When volcanic ash pours forth upon an unsuspecting village, the few caught in their homes clung to each other.
>You do not wish for her to leave, but… Perhaps this time you might stop the ash. Metaphorically.
>Your hand twitches as your waist experiences what you might describe as a constriction but no Boa prowls above the clouds.
>“I’m going to kick your flank when I get back,” you find her looking up at you, her hooves clung to your hips. “You know that, right?”
>If she gets- Don’t think such thoughts. Not yet, not until her time.
>Dropping to a knee you pull her to your chest with your arms around her, “So you do care…”
>Your fingers pet down her mane as you rest your head beside hers. Hmm, she smells like rain. You never took the time…
“It’s time to go.”
>Air funnels around the both of you, whisking you away to the town of Ponyville in a moment’s time.
>Dash falls to her forehooves and looks around in confusion, “Anon?”
>A dozen clouds of pink whizz by overhead in a V formation, much like a flock of birds, though with a lack of grace.
>Rainbow Dash looks around once more before taking off after the renegade candy vapors.
 
>Off to Sweet Apple Acres? If their heading is any indication, they’ll be running across Applejack as well.
>Two will become three, three to four and so on and so forth. Their group will become whole and… Does she know?
>Concentrating once more, you feel yourself pulled across the land, now finding yourself at Celestia’s balcony as she watches over Canterlot.
>Strangely, there does not appear to be any signs of his return, not yet.
>Lowering yourself to eye level she stares straight through you, a hint of a smile upon her lips.
>She doesn’t know… Why isn’t he terrorizing this place? Of all places- It matters not.
“Check the garden.”
>Your whisper seems to snap her out of her peaceful state, the Princess taking a step backwards, perhaps ready to retreat? She needn’t fear you, not now.
“He has returned.”
>Her hind leg raises for another step… but she does not complete the action. Instead, her eyes lift to the air around her, looking for you no doubt. She will have trouble looking for you.
>“Who has returned?”
>Words. You have never been quite capable of mastering their subtle touch. If you cannot tell her, then perhaps you can show her.
>Taking hold of her soul you focus once more, transporting the both of you into the sculpture garden below.
>It takes her a moment to regain her senses from the act, but when she does the first thing she notices is the stone.
>Fragments, to be more accurate, hundreds of them scattered about the green of the surrounding foliage.
>“No, it’s impossible.” Celestia runs towards the base and touches her horn to the base of the statue in some incantation. “He’s gone…”
“Send for them, only they can stop him.”
>Your attempts to convince her only seem to bring her worry if her body language bears any truth. “He won’t go far. Discord- would want to see how I react.”
>As she says this her head turns to the direction of your voice, “I won’t squirm for your enjoyment this time.”
>Your enjoyment? She cannot possibly mean- It is strange that she comes to such a conclusion. At another time, you would enjoy exploring the origins of such an accusation. This is not that time.
“We share a common fear, Princess Celestia, one of chaos and the mutilation it brings to this land.”
>Her stare is as firm as it was in her youth, yet you feel as though it no longer positions itself towards you.
>Turning your gaze around you find the source of her dismay.
>Off in the distance, past the walls of the city where one might peer up at the clouds and take in its subtle charm rests the fiend himself.
>Only a silhouette is present as the shadow of his serpentine form slithers amongst the clouds, each brightening to a brilliant pink with a caress of his tail.
>You can even hear his sickening cackle, the very sound sending waves of agony through your mind.
 
>Every morsel of your being feels as though it was doused in the fires of Tartarus and laid to rest under the blistering heat of the Arabian Sun.
>As if the pain was not enough, the voice returns to your mind. It’s your fault, it says. All of this could have been avoided if you had just left this world alone.
>“Discord… I didn’t want to think this day would come.”
>All of this, just because you let one little soul live. You couldn’t just let her die. It wasn’t her time- It was, and you know that more than anyone.
>Out… Get out… Your fist clenches upon the grass beneath you. Get out! “Anonymous?”
>How does she know- What? Your- Why can see your hands? You look back to the Princess as she approaches, your body on your knees before her.
>You stumble backwards away from her with your back against one of the many hedges that line the garden. This is your fault too. Shut up.
>“So it was you… Your voice- I thought it sounded familiar,” even as she says this you can see the tension that holds her in place, her muscles firm as stone.
>Look at yourself, the voice speaks once more, cowering from a mortal like a peasant. Not cowering just- Get up, Anonymous. Time is of the essence.
>For once the voice speaks some semblance of truth as you stand back up, realigning your tie and dusting off your pants. You are speaking to royalty. “How did you know?”
“Does it matter? No. Perhaps- No.” You will allow yourself to battle your mind verbally later, but for now you must send Celestia back. “None of that matters now. What does, is that you bring word to your student, Miss Sparkle.”
>Celestia seems to break her petrifying stance as you reach out for her, her horn glowing a bright gold as she takes a step backwards. “No further.”
“Had I wished to bring you harm, would I not have already done so?”
>It is a valid question and if the look in her eyes is any indication, she agrees with your line of thought, though thoughts rarely travel in such uniformity. Still, she does not approach.
>Discords’ cackle splits through the air once more, the muscles in your neck and brow swiftly thrown into a fit of spasms. You furrow your brow when you are once again capable.
“I do not wish to force anything upon you, Princess.” You extend your hand a hoof-length further. “I shall not ask again.”
>As you had hoped her horn’s glow subsides as she reaches a hoof into your hand with a sigh, “Discord’s magic is powerful. I feared he may have turned you to his ways.”
>The mere mention of his name kindles a flame long kept dormant deep within yourself.
“Find safety then,” the wind hastens about the two of you, “As I hold no fond feelings for that draconequus.”
 
>The next moment brings you back to the center of Celestia’s chamber, the Alicorn in question making her way over to her cupboard.
>”I can send word to my student, Twilight,” the princess narrates as you walk over to the balcony, one hand lightly pressed alongside your head. “We can only hope that they are not too late.”
>We…  Almost in a haze you strike the stone railing before you, chips of shattered rock dusting your fist. How could you be so stupid? “Anonymous, is everything alright?”
>You should never have come here, not to her. All you are doing is meddling further into mortal affairs. Look…
>The air thickens as the monster approaches, a sickly sweet scent drifting upon the air as the plague of pink spreads through the sky. All because of-
>You flinch away at the sudden touch of a hoof, Celestia bearing a look of concern as she examines you, “The elements will stop him once more. This is no fault of your own.”
“I know this,” the deceitful words spill from your lips. You know the truth. “Why would you bring up such an accusation? I would never-”
>“Hush now, it’s alright.”
>It’s alright? You straighten your back, nostrils flaring as you stare down this princess. It’s alright?!
“This is not alright! I have conducted myself in a manner of consistence for as far back as my mind is allowed to stretch. I have broken every rule set by myself since-” When you look into her eyes, all you can see is that night. “Dragon’s blood…”
>Just turn away, yes, if she cannot see you- Is this how death conducts himself? By acting as a trembling infant, afraid of the monsters beneath their bed?
“I never should have come here. I never should have let you see me.”
>“I must disagree. It wasn’t your choice.” You smile at the irony of the idea. Of all those that walk this earth, only two truly have a choice. One brings life, the other…
“When I first came to you I was but another subject, ordinary, plain.”
>“Quirkier than most.” In the darkest of times she can almost bring a smile to your face, but alas, the word ‘almost’ holds it at bay.
“Yes, but now you see,” motioning your hands outwards to allow her a better look at you, “I am not who I claim to be. I am not ordinary.”
 
>Celestia shakes her head after you had finished, the act striking you as odd. “You are not a clever pony, Mr. Anonymous. Then again, you aren’t a pony at all.”
>Not a clever- You attempt to decipher her meaning as she walks back indoors only to find your answer to be an empty void.
“Pardon?” Her ear twitches so you know she heard you, and yet she doesn’t answer. Even as you follow, she does not yield quite yet. “How might you mean?”
>“Of all those I have come to meet in my long life, I struggle to find more transparent than you.” You wait, still ‘fishing’ for the answer to your inquiry and she seems to notice. “You’re not a good liar.”
“On the contrary, I am quite adept at deception.” She shakes her head again, only placing further doubt into yourself, “Correct?”
>Another cackle of your new ‘guest’ runs through the air and slices down your spine. “You were never ordinary, Anonymous. One look at you tells me that.”
>She forces a smile in hope it would transfer to you as well. It does not. You can hear his laughter echo through your skull, and the more you listen the worse the aches grow.
>“You care about Equestria, enough to ‘break every rule you set.’ Discord is here now, but you might have saved us enough time to stop him. You, Anonymous. How could I think you are anything but ordinary?”
>No, she doesn’t know. She thinks she knows but she doesn’t. If she did- “Anonymous, if that really is your name, I quite frankly don’t care what you are or where you come from.”
“What one does not know-” you try to protest only for Celestia to interrupt.
>“I am not going to ask how you knew of his escape. I am not going to ask how you appeared before me or how it is that you brought us to and fro with only the breeze. I won’t ask any of these questions because I always knew.”
>She rests a hoof upon your hand, as your eyes widen. At least they would if you had them to begin with. “What you are doesn’t matter now. Right now, I need you as Anonymous.”
>The entirety of your being wishes to speak out against her, but that cackle still runs through your mind and thus you remain silent.
>“We will deal with Discord. Return to Ponyville, Anonymous. Help my ponies in this time of chaos.”
>As you try to speak you find a lump to have formed in your throat, quickly disposing of the growth.
“Is that an order, Princess Celestia?” One does not make demands of Death, after all.
>You can’t help but notice her pause with a weak grin. “Would you feel better if I said please?”
>Please. Does everyone know this magic word? In any case, how could you refuse?
“I will do what I can,” you reply with a bow, Celestia mimicking your own. “And Celestia?”
>”Hmm?”
“Friendship the buck out of him.” You’re a bit surprised you could use such profanity. It brings a sense of relief. “If that is not too much trouble.”
>“For you.”
>Setting your sights on Ponyville you focus your mind away from the chaotic deviant, allowing the winds to whisk away once more.
>Your first stop, Sweet Apple Acres. You hope they have some overalls in your size.
 
>Taking in your surroundings, the first thing you notice would have to be the strange off-white bulbs that litter the grass.
>Hundreds if not thousands of the pieces are swept across the lawn ahead of the Apple family house though it is quite obvious that the trail is not limited to simply this location.
>They are not large by any means, but they certainly have a way of stealing one’s attention. How can the Apple’s cultivate their crop with such a mess about?
>There’s an audible crunch as you step forwards to the front door and each step seems to ‘follow suit’.
>You find the noise quite distasteful and hurry yourself as you stride up upon the patio, knocking thrice upon the door.
>Surely Applejack has left with the others by now, but that only serves to cement your reasoning to stay. The Apple’s treated you as family, and you shall help your equestrian relatives.
>So you wait… You are a patient being after all, and so you will continue waiting.
>Taking quite a long time aren’t they? How odd. In the mean time you can observe what needs fixing, at least you would until your gaze returns to the strange bulbs.
>A few had even clung to your shoe you find out as you brush them off.
>You’re about to move onto the other when an idea comes to mind.
>Plucking one of the pieces away you deposit it within your mouth, maneuvering the unknown item between your teeth and tongue.
>Disappointing, this appears to be one of the few items that lack any distinguishable taste and the texture… Hmm, nothing too special about that either.
>Surely one of Discord’s-
“Not again…” your voice escapes you as your back pins itself against the door, the hinges creaking as the wooden door seems to bend at the force of impact.
>There’s no escaping this pain is there? No, it will always exist, waiting. Perhaps Eir- A mare will not help you. She can only delay the- “Off mah lawn ya digits!”
>The sudden exclamation frees you from your internal struggle as you manage to push yourself away from the doorway and onto the lawn.
>Now if you listened correctly then the voice came from- “Outta the way, sonny!”
>You hear the barreling of the Apple family wagon just in time to step back, the left side coming mere inches from swiping your nose.
>The aftershock of its passing throws you off balance as you stumble backwards, finally managing to gather yourself after several clumsy footsteps.
>After a quick inspection to ensure your nose had not left you, you only have the one after all, you follow the direction the wagon and- By Tartarus, what has that draconequus done?
 
>Piled high on the wagon you can see Granny Smith atop the bulbous items you have seen, though many times bigger they may be.
>However, this is not what has grasped your attention so. Rather, it would be the emergence of this new breed of colossus-sized rabbits, their legs stretched to obscene proportions… That is, yours.
>Moving closer allows you a better look at these creatures, young Granny Smith not taking the same approach as you.
>Instead, the elderly mare, using what remnants of strength that rests in her bones, picks up her walker and swings it about towards the pursuing creatures.
>It’s not quite far enough to strike them, though you would imagine if she were to be swinging it at you instead, you might reevaluate your motives.
>Big Macintosh comes out from behind the cart in stride as you approach, his sheer strength pushing through the mob as would a stallion in the game of hoofball.
>With a single powerful buck of his hind hooves he knocks open the upper half of the barn door before locking his eyes on you.
“It appears that you could be in need of assistance? Might I help?”
>He does not get the chance to speak before Granny Smith throws one of the bulbs at him, “No time for jibber jabber! We gotta get this here popcorn to the barn. Git to it!”
>”Eyup.” You’re unsure if the response was to your questioning or the militaristic barking of his elder, but you conclude that they are in fact in need of your aid.
>Big Macintosh climbs aboard with due haste and joins Granny in tossing this ‘popcorn’ into the barn.
>Popcorn, why does that sound familiar? Ah, the substance that Scootaloo wished for you to eat at the theater. It is rather large for-
>Your thoughts are interrupted as one of the mutated bunnies leaps into the gap between the barn and wagon, expertly snatching on the larger pieces and gnawing into its exterior.
>It does appear tasty- What are you thinking, you must help the Apples not watch on in wonder.
"Acheem," you cough earning the rabbit's attention, "That is not yours. If you would-"
>With wide eyes it tries to flee from your presence, a common practice among their beastial kin, but it makes the fatal mistake of having such large appendages for legs.
>Gripping it by the thigh and pulling it up has the creature squirming for freedom, releasing the popcorn from its maw.
"Thank you, you may leave."
>You examine the popcorn as it scurries away, the object almost looking appetizing if not for the teeth marks and shimmering layer of saliva across its surface.
>Perhaps another time, you think as you throw it inside the barn.
 
>Together the two Apples skillfully toss and buck their supply of popped corn into the barn with you standing just underneath as to drive away any of these strange critters.
>All it takes is a seasoned glare for the rabbits to turn their cravings somewhere else. It seems that for once your ability to intimidate wildlife has come to the benefit of others.
>Of course, it brings a strange feeling to watch them be driven away in fear, sadness perhaps?
>It is not a fault of their own that they would trouble the Apples, but instead it is the chaotic sorcery that runs through their veins.
>The muscles around where your eyes should be twitch every time you think of the creature. Such power and instead of building a world worth living, he chooses to tear it down.
>Isn't that what you do? No, you are merely there to- Steal from them the world they've come to love. Only when it is their time. We'll see...
>We will see. You cannot change what you are, but you are one of the two beings in Equestria that may choose their own path. No longer will you let the chaotic tendencies of fate harm those of this land.
>"...over here. We'd be much obliged, sonny."
"Hmm, excuse me?"
>It appears while you were in thought they had positioned the cart to enter the bar and it would appear you are in their path.
>"Latch's on the side." You raise a brow in confusion. Where might she be directing you to the side of? "The door, sonny. Ain't no time for dilly dallying. Them miscreants'll be back any minute."
"Yes of course, to open the door." Undoing the latch is a simple thing and with Big Mac pushing the cart soon finds its way back home.
>Granny Smith comes crutching out, swiping away Big Mac's hoof when he attempts to help her. "I may be rusty 'round the edges, but that don't make be helpless. Why, back in my day my pappy would work these here fields 'til his hooves couldn't pick up off the ground, hehe."
"Should the demonstration with your walker be taken into account, I do not believe any pony would doubt your claim."
>"I say, in all my years I never seen anything quite like the Poppening." Strange, in all of -your- years you have never heard of a word like that.
"And what might you be referring to?" you ask leaning your head forward as not to miss the answer.
>"The corn, sonny! Kernels