Dazed, groggy, confused… There were many ways to define how Rainbow Dash felt at the moment, but her mind was far too preoccupied with hammering its way through her skull for her to think in any of them.

“Ugh…” she groaned as she turned around.

She blinked once, twice, hoping her eyes would adjust to the dim orange light that bathed the room she was in. Begrudgingly, she dragged herself towards the wall and made the effort to steady herself and sit up. She felt something soft, and soon realised she was sitting on top of a simple bed, barely large enough for her.

“Where the heck am I?” she said as her hooves shot up and held her aching head. She paid little mind to her surroundings, deeming it a lesser concern when compared to the throbbing waves of pain that sieged her mind.

It was a while before the headaches subsided, and only then did Rainbow finally take in her surroundings. The room was a sorry mess of brick walls and concrete floor that were as dirty as her bed was, and the faint light coming from the small bulb in the middle of the roof didn’t do much to help dispel that notion.

Rainbow took a deep breath, and then another. She looked around the room again, squinting to see if there was something she had missed, anything that would tell her where she was.

“Hello?” Rainbow asked the empty room. “Anypony hear me?”

Silence was her only reply.

A ghost of a grimace made its way across her face, but she willed it away before it could settle down, as she did with the shiver that ran down her spine. She rose from the bed, flapping her wings, only to come tumbling down onto the floor.

“Gah! Horsefeathers…” she cursed as her headache came back in full force after the impact.

With trembling hooves, she tried to stand up, wincing as her legs nearly gave out a couple of times. She gave her wings a tentative flap, just to see if they were working properly. Much to her relief, they seemed to be working normally, though she did notice they didn’t feel as strong as usual. Years of training had bestowed her with powerful wings, but right now they barely felt strong enough to lift her off the ground.

“What in Celestia’s name is going on?” she mumbled to herself, pressing one hoof against her temple.

With more patience this time around, Rainbow Dash gently flapped her wings. Just hard enough to lift her off the floor. Now that her mind had stopped going ballistic on her, she was finally able to see the details of the room more clearly; mainly, the heavy metal door at the end.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before immediately flinging herself towards it and, wasting no more time, did her best to pry the door open. She held the handle with both hooves and threw her whole body backwards, putting her full weight behind it to no avail, the door remain unperturbed.

Rainbow Dash tried again, grunting heavily as she pulled one more time with all the strength she could muster. She raised one of her hind legs to the wall next to the door, hoping that extra leverage would be enough to finally open the door. Before she could notice it, her hooves slipped from the handle and she came crashing on the floor once again, and once again the headache came back.

The pegasus rolled in the ground, grunting and holding her head between her hooves. The confusion and slight twinges of fear from earlier gave birth to a bubbling anger that did little favour to her throbbing brain.

With an exasperated sigh she rose once again, doing her best to ignore the growing pain inside her skull, and turned around.

“Open up, you dumb slab of metal!” she yelled and promptly extended a leg in a rage-filled kick against the door.


“Consarnit!” Applejack yelled as a sharp pain run up her leg.

She sat down as to not exert more pressure on her leg and gave a drawn out sigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, Kicks McGee may be a tough one, but metal is metal. She eyed the array of bolts and rivets that followed a pattern along the edges of the door as well as the frame. Whoever made that door didn’t want anypony leaving anytime soon.

As her hooves shoot up reflexively to the hat that wasn’t where it should have been, she gave the room another glance. She was greeted by the sight of the same unchanging brick walls and concrete floor and ceiling. Biting the inside of her cheek, she mulled over what little she remembered.

It had been less than an hour since she had woken up, and despite the initial confusion, she was quick to start looking for an explanation to her predicament. Nopony was around for her to give a holler, at least nopony who could lend her a helping hoof.

She had to make an effort to keep herself from sighing again.

Standing up—and making sure not to put her weight down on her right hind leg—, Applejack walked around the room. She scanned the endless rows of bricks, hoping to find anything that could tell her where she was or how to get out.

It wasn’t until she reached one of the corners of the room that she noticed something: a small draft that would have gone unnoticed had she not been looking for anything out of the ordinary.

If anything could be called ordinary in this situation.

She had to squint as to better see amidst the darkness that the light wasn’t able to repel, and she was able to see something between the bricks: A hole barely the size of two bricks put together with thick iron bars blocking it.

Her eyes widened and her lips curled up into a smile, though her happiness was short lived. The hole was too high for her to reach and peer through, but if anypony… anyone was out there, they sure should have heard her earlier.

Not one to be disheartened, Applejack quickly turned around and headed for the small metal-framed bed. She walked around it until she was once again facing the corner where the hole with the iron bars was and started pushing. Maybe there was nopony on the other side, maybe there was, she didn’t quite know but she’d rather be sure than to keep wondering.

As she pushed the rickety bed, she once again noticed that she didn’t feel as strong as she normally did. Sure, it’d been dumb of her to try kicking the door open, but even still, she was able to strip an apple tree of its bounty with a single well-placed buck. The kickback shouldn’t have hurt her as much as it did.

She would’ve kept on mulling these thoughts over, but the bed finally hit the brick wall. Applejack jumped on top of the bed, perhaps a little too eager to send those thoughts away. Doing her best to keep her balance, she slowly set her front hooves on the wall, grasping at the protruding bricks to help her steady herself and stand higher.

Even when standing fully upright, the hole in the wall was barely out of her reach. She could reach it with her muzzle if she tried, but there was no way she would be able to look into the other side. However, at this distance she was still able to notice the complete darkness that shrouded the other side of the wall.


That could mean any number of things in and of itself. The obvious answer was that the light bulb in the adjacent room wasn’t working or was turned off, though it may just as well mean that she was facing the exterior and this was a particularly dark night. Neither of these theories were particularly satisfying, nor did they got Twilight any closer to finding out where she was or who got her there in the first place.

The alicorn slowly flapped her wings until she touched the concrete floor once again. She rubbed her forehead as though she was trying to force the thoughts to come out.

“Come on, Twilight… Think,” she said to herself, “Lay out the facts. What do you know for certain?”

The light bulb chose that moment to flicker on and off, plunging the room in a momentary darkness that Twilight did her best to ignore.

“I woke up in a closed room,” Twilight recounted in her mind as she leaned on the bed,” the door was closed and I couldn’t open it.”

After saying this, her gaze wandered over to the thick metal door, its dark shape stood out as a monolith against the dirty red bricks of the wall in a manner reminiscent of the dark magic constructs Twilight knew only from obscure tomes of arcane lore. Letting out a dread-filled breath, the unicorn’s hoof went up and lightly caressed her horn.

“My magic doesn’t seem to be working,” she said, her voice dripping with more than a little annoyance and, perhaps, a twinge of fear as well, “though I can still use my wings, at the very least.”

With another gentle flap of her wings, Twilight once again scanned the room in an effort to discover something, anything she may have missed that would shed some light on what was happening.

As if to mock her, the light bulb flickered once more.

Lamenting that she couldn’t use her magic to light up the room would be wasting energy that could be otherwise spent in trying to figure out where she was and how to get out, so she focused on doing the latter.

Twilight flew closer to a section of the brick walls that was better illuminated by the light bulb. If she could find any recognisable marking on it, any telling detail that could spark her memory and help her discern their origin maybe then she’d be a step closer to figuring out her location.

Artisan masonry usually bore a seal or marking that served to identify its origin, so if she could find an exposed brick, she could figure out where she was. It was such a long shot her mind almost called her out for grasping at straws, but she was desperate enough to try.

Her hooves ran across the uneven surface of the wall with her eyes following every move, every bump caused by an odd protrusion or crevice, every last trace of what once may have been a layer of paint that was swept away by her frantic motions. The bricks may not’ve had a professional finish, but for her end goal they may as well have been completely smooth.

She didn’t give up, though. She couldn’t. If this search yielded no results, she’d simply have to think of something else and work from there. Dead ends didn’t exist, only temporary setbacks.

With a firm nod, Twilight repeated those words as though they were a sacred mantra, she clung to them for life dear as she continued her task under the flickering light bulb.


“Ah!”

Her hooves hit a pipe protruding from the wall, she had been caught by surprise, but as Rarity’s eyes got used to the darkness she suddenly found herself plunged into, she was able to make the faint outline of the metal pipe coming out from between two bricks. That was another one to add to her mental map of the room.

She should have perhaps done so while she still counted with the support of the light provided by the small light bulb, but regrets were of little use at the moment. Besides, after her rather unsuccessful attempt at opening the door of her masonry prison her remaining motivation was at an all time low.

The fact that she was unable to use her magic did little to alleviate her concerns.

For a moment, she pondered the idea of calling out for help once again before ultimately discarding it. It simply wouldn’t do to tear her vocal chords in what was probably a futile attempt regardless.

“Hmph… Woe is me,” she whispered to the darkness with no effort in trying to hide the sardonic edge of her voice, “now what?”

Rarity slowly made her way to where she remembered the bed was, taking tentative steps as to avoid any unseen obstacle. Once she made contact with the filthy and unkempt mattress, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat and jumped on top of the bed.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, darling,” she said to herself as she searched for the equally nasty bedsheet. The rough fabric felt as though it was made out of jute when in contact with her fur. “Oh, but how I wish I could,” she lamented.

She was grateful the room wasn’t too cold as to merit actually wrapping herself with the miserable excuse for covers the bed had, but it was still far from an ideal situation.

As a set of horseshoes worn down by an arduous trek, so did her eyes felt as though they could burst after spending so long trying to make sense of the room amidst the darkness. Rarity rubbed her eyes, hoping to ease the pain.

“I suppose I can bid farewell to my make up,” she said with disdain, though she could notice her tone was beginning to crack.

She looked up into the darkness, as though she could extricate the answers from it were she to stare it down. And even as silly as a notion as it was, there was not much else she could hold on to.

“Well, Rarity, you’re in quite the conundrum…” she trailed off, having abandoned all pretence of bravado. She could feel her remaining strengths leaving her, and there was not much else she could do but take deep breath after deep breath in hopes of calming her rapidly beating heart.

“Keep it together,” she half said, half ordered herself as she buried her muzzle in the dirty covers, “just wait until it lights up in the morning, then you can keep looking for a way out of this place.”

The silence that followed her words seemed to mock her, to dare her to try to do so, almost confirming her fears that she may never leave this brick room.

“Just… Just wait. It’ll all will be alright, you’ll see… You’ll—”


A quiet sob escaped Fluttershy despite her best efforts to keep her composure, though she was starting to wonder if there was a point in trying anyway. At the moment, breaking down in tears and crying herself to sleep was a very appealing proposal.

She shouldn’t feel so scared, she knew she shouldn’t. She was a strong pony who had faced worse, but when a foreign room of brick walls and rusty pipes greeted her as soon as she woke up, she found it hard to remember that.

She tightened her grip on the cover and pulled it closer to her body as though it could shield her from the darkness of the room. In spite of herself, her mind couldn’t keep from thinking back on all the things that had gone wrong since she had woken up, the latest of which had been the light bulb flickering out and turning off for good.

And the worst part was that there was nothing she could do about it.

Honestly, what could she do? Other than cower in fear and hope everything would sort itself out and someone would come rescue her, that is. She liked that option and was more than comfortable with sticking to that plan.

Her thoughts drifted to her friends, she wondered how they were. Could they be in a similar situation to hers? Waking up in a dark, scary room with no explanation whatsoever as to how they got there?

She was sure Applejack or Twilight could figure out what was happening and find a way to get out of this nightmarish room, Rainbow Dash could force her way out, Pinkie Pie would simply… Pinkie Pie herself out of here, and while she didn’t know how Rarity would fare, she was certain she’d be holding out much better than herself.

She closed her eyes as hot tears ran down her face, matting her coat in its trail. There was nopony there to hear her pleas, and even if there were, they sure didn’t seem keen on helping her.

At that point, perhaps due to the budding frustration within her, Fluttershy’s fear slowly morphed into anger. Whether said anger was directed at herself, the room, or whomever put her there, she couldn’t tell, she just knew she didn’t want to be in that room anymore.

If she pulled the covers any tighter, she’d probably end up blocking the blood flow to her head which, all things considered, wasn’t an entirely unappealing prospect.

She was barely aware of her body starting to shake under the covers, focused as she was of trying to block the oppressive silence that came alongside the darkness. The lone pegasus silently begged to whomever was listening to come and get her as the tears kept flowing as free as a stream.

As the minutes passed, wearing down on her, Fluttershy felt the lingering traces of her resolve leaving her. She felt so utterly powerless, both to leave this horrid place and to avoid succumbing to despair and while those feelings were not entirely unfamiliar to her, they brought her ever so close to her breaking point.

She let out a rasping whimper, as though she was trying to hold back sobs and screams. She wanted nothing more than to be back at her cottage with her little animal friends who were surely missing her and in need of care. The thought of her animals was enough to shatter her fragile state; in a single leap she threw away the covers, reared back, and let out a powerful—


“Blaaaaaaaaaargh!” Pinkie Pie yelled as she jumped to the ceiling of the dark room.

As she floated downwards, much as a balloon caught in a breeze would, she couldn’t help but feel disheartened that her plan to startle the lightbulb into turning itself on had failed. With a large pout and a heavy frown, Pinkie cranked the gears of her mind into thinking up another solution.

“Alrighty, then,” she said, “I counted the bricks, rang the pipes, clung the bars, scraped the paint, hung from the beams, and jumped on the bed but nothing has worked so far. Time to think outside the box!”

At those words, Pinkie struck a triumphant pose which would have had a bigger impact had there been any lights in the room. Nevertheless, she wasn’t one to be deterred by such unimportant details, so she promptly went back to thinking of a way out of the room.

The earth pony sat on her haunches and tapped her chin as if to make an act of showing her thought process. She had already discarded the idea of somepony being nearby; if they didn’t join in her medley of ‘Giggle at the Ghosties’, what were the chances they would help her?

Shaking her head in disappointment, Pinkie Pie turned to face one of the dark corners of the room. “I may as well try to open the door until I can come up with something better,” she said with pure nonchalance as she walked towards the metal door.

Pinkie squinted in hopes of getting to see the door more clearly, a tall order considering the nearly absolute darkness in which she found herself. Either way, she remembered enough of it from before the lightbulb died to paint a picture of it in her head.

She pressed her front hooves against the cold metal, and gently rubbed them against its surface as though she expected to tickle her way out. She was, however, only partially paying attention to the door; her focus was less attuned to the way she could open it than it was to her trying to perceive something from the other side, for the absence of her Pinkie Sense hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Ever since she woke up in the strange and curious room, something had been nagging Pinkie’s mind, the notion that something was amiss. Beyond the obvious that is. It didn’t take long for her to realise that it was herself that felt… wrong.

Much like a wingless pegasus or a hornless unicorn, she felt incomplete. As silly as a notion as that was, she felt as though a part or even parts of her were missing the moment she woke up.

The sound of her huffing resonated in the otherwise silent room. She knew she had to keep her spirits up, but seeing how odd her situation was, she was having a hard time doing so. Almost immediately, she perked up at the slight shiver that ran down her spine.

“Oh! Wait… No, that’s just dread… Shoot!” Pinkie said pouted. In an unruly act of defiance, she gave the door a small kick.

Perhaps in a similar show of contempt, the door chose that moment to unlock itself.

Startled, Pinkie Pie could only stumble backwards as her eyes remained glued to the slab of metal. A faint orange light bathed the room as the door swung open, and under its frame stood a tall, thin earth pony mare.

Pinkie Pie didn’t dare speak up, she didn’t even breathe. The mare beyond the doorway cocked her head to the side, eyeing her in an odd way , almost as if she was analysing her. Quivering lips, trembling body, and eyes that darted back and forth weren’t the best way to make a good first impression, but before Pinkie could say anything, the mare spoke.

“Apologies for the lights being out, the electric grid isn’t too reliable in this wing of the facilities,” the mare spoke with a calm tone.

Pinkie blinked a couple of times before thinking about replying, but once her mind had caught up, the growing sense of unease was quickly replaced with the elation caused by finally seeing somepony after what felt like hours.

“Oh, don’t worry your little head over that, it didn’t bother me all that much,” Pinkie half-lied, “Anyway, I’m Pinkie Pie, who are you?”

The other mare kept her modest smile fixed on Pinkie Pie. As happy as it made her to see somepony smile, she could tell when a smile wasn’t sincere. The smiling pony before her was but a mask that hid something; what that something was, Pinkie didn’t know, but she was going to find out.

“My name is Serene Breeze, Miss Pie,” the mare said, her smile never leaving her face, “I’ll take care of the lighting problem right away.”

“Thanks! Nice knowing you, Serene.” Pinkie perked up. If she was going to help this mare and find out what was happening, she was going to do so with a smile of her own. “I normally would offer to throw you a party, but I seem to have left my party cannon in my other mane.”

There was a little twitch at the corners of Serene Breeze’s mouth, and for a second Pinkie thought the smile actually reached her eyes. She considered it a small success.

She couldn’t dwell on it for much longer, though, for the lightbulb in the room came back to live, blinding her momentarily. After a few thorough blinks, however, Pinkie’s vision was back to normal and finally got to take on Serene’s full appearance.

She had a lean figure, so much that a pang of hunger shot through her just by looking at her. Pinkie made a mental note to send her a batch of cupcakes as soon as she came back to Ponyville.

“I’m sure you must have quite a number of questions, it’s understandable,” Serene said as she walked into the room.

“Heh… You betcha. I thought I was going loco in the [i]coco[i] around here,” Pinkie said, twisting her hoof around her head for emphasis.

“I must apologise, Miss Pie. We would have loved to give you a better reception, but we had to work under several constraints. I hope you’ll understand.”

“No harm done,” Pinkie said with a smile. One that was short lived. Serene Breeze walked up to a desk that she was almost entirely sure hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Would you care to take a seat?” she asked her.

“Uh… Sure,” Pinkie trailed off. Props to Serene, it wasn’t often that she was at a loss of words, it was usually the other way around. Still, she complied and took a seat on one of the cushions that had materialised alongside the desk.

“Before I give you the answers you deserve, I just want to make sure you are okay, Miss Pie. Tell me, have you felt odd since you woke up?”

Pinkie’s earlier distress about her Pinkie Sense came back to her mind, but something told her that’s not what Serene had in mind.

“I’m odd all the time, Serene. You have to be more specific!” Pinkie giggled, opting to give more of a noncommittal answer.

“Have you perhaps felt unwell? Disorientation, nausea, headaches, anything of the sort?” Serene asked her, and Pinkie noticed a sense of genuine worry in her words. Though maybe she just wanted to convince herself of that.

Pinkie shook her head without breaking eye contact with her. “Nnope. Nothing of the sorts. I was a bit confused when I first woke up and realised I wasn’t in my room. I mean, I know I can party really hard sometimes, but jeez, I’ve never partied so hard I ended up in a different room, well except for Shining Armor and Cadence’s wedding, but I don’t think that counts because I already was in a different place before I started partying, plus there was that whole crazy-invasion-of-shapeshifters situation going on, so that made every other issue seem secondary, so I guess that really hasn’t happened to me before.”

Throughout all her tirade, Serene Breeze didn’t show sign of being bothered or bored by Pinkie, and she’d been looking for them. No sagging of shoulders, no subtle eye roll, no flickering of ears, nothing. It was almost as though she was genuinely interested in what Pinkie had to say.

That was odd.

“I’m glad to know there haven’t been any major issues, Miss Pie,” Serene said, speaking with a calmness that befitted her name.

“So…” Pinkie started, rocking back and forth in her cushion, “What is going on? How did I get here? Was I sleepwalking again?”

“Nothing of the sorts, Miss Pie—”

“Call me Pinkie! All my friends call me Pinkie,” she said, and made the effort to remain immobile so she could properly gauge the mare’s response.

“Very well then, Pinkie.” Serene’s smile was wide, perhaps even sincere. It wasn’t meant to last, though. Almost immediately afterwards, her expression became serious, though it never lost that benevolent air. “You were summoned here by orders of the Equestrian Crown.”

“Oh, Princess Celestia asked us to come? That’s weird, she usually sends letters with Spike.”

A ghost of a smile made its way across Serene’s face, though it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “I’m afraid the circumstances are a bit more complicated than that, Pinkie.”


“Well, then y’all better quit going around your muzzle to get to your tail and start doin’ some explainin’, Miss Breeze,” Applejack said, more than a little agitated.

“I promised you I’d explain, Miss Applejack and I intend to carry that promise, just please calm down.”

If Serene’s words were meant to assuage Applejack’s concerns, they had the complete opposite effect. The farmer’s eyes narrowed as her teeth started to grind, and with a forceful jump, she leaned over the desk, knocking down some of the papers to the ground.

“Calm down? I’ve got a mind to straddle you down and walk out the door right now!” Applejack shot back with rising anger.

At her outburst, the metal door opened once again, and two unicorns clad in armor ran into the room.

“Miss Breeze, is everything under control?” One of the guards said.

“At ease, it’s alright soldier,” Serene spoke with authority, a long shot from the calm tone she’d been using.

“What… in tarnation…” Applejack said, confusion replacing her previous impatience.

The guards had armors alright, but they sure weren’t the armor of the Royal Guards. Instead of ornate chest plates and helmets made of gold, they wore what seemed to be suits of heavy gray cloth, and bulkier than a winter coat.

Applejack’s hurried breathing slowed down to a measured pace. Turning around to face a somewhat crestfallen Serene Breeze, she spoke once again now with a low, strong and slow tone, “Now you hear me, Miss, and you hear me clearly. You better tell me what is going on here, or Celestia help me I’ll start getting answers my own way.”

Serene looked back at her with a dejected expression, “Very well, Miss Applejack. Let us talk. Just—”


“—Please be reasonable!”

“To Tartarus with reason!” Rainbow Dash yelled as she trashed about, trying to free herself from the grasp of the guards.

“Miss, calm down, we don’t want to hurt you!” one of the guards groaned between grunts as she did his best to keep the pegasus from hurting them, or herself.

“Oh, I’d love to see you two try,” Rainbow said, taunting the guards with gritted teeth and a glare that could have melted through the metal door. Her headache was back in full force, but the rage coursing through her veins numbed her to the pain, leaving only her instincts to take over.

“Miss Dash, please,” Serene pleaded, “Let’s talk this over as civilised ponies.”

Rainbow Dash stopped her struggling for a moment and focused on the mare in front of her. Her expression quickly morphed into one of pure disgust. “You lost your chance to play that card the moment you locked me in this place.”

Before the guards could react, Rainbow Dash flipped herself over, releasing herself from the guard’s distracted grip, and shot towards Serene aided by her weaker but definitely still functioning wings.

Though she felt somewhat ashamed at the small twinge of satisfaction that sparked in her mind when she saw the fear in Serene’s eyes, she figured it was only fair to let her taste what it felt like for a change.

“Miss Dash, I—!”


“—promise you everything is alright.”

“H-how can you say that?” Fluttershy’s voice was barely audible, she kept her head pressed against the mare’s chest. Serene’s hooves held her tightly, as a mother would her child who just woke up from a nightmare.

“I know it’s hard to believe, Miss Fluttershy, but you have my word that no harm will befall you, you are safe here,” Serene said in her most reassuring tone.

“Can I… Can I go home, please?” Fluttershy said between heavy breaths as she looked up at the other mare.

Serene didn’t reply, not immediately. She looked back at the meek pegasus with eyes filled with regret, almost as though she wished she could say ‘yes’.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment,” she finally said.

Fluttershy’s wings gave a gentle flick as she tried to move away from Serene before asking, “Why not?”


“I don’t see what all the fuss is, it’s hardly an unreasonable question,” Rarity said with a huff meant to mask her nervousness.

“It’s a sensitive topic, and it’s my task to breach it in an appropriate manner, Miss Rarity,” Serene Breeze replied with a calm, measured tone.

“That’s understandable, I suppose,“ Rarity said in a way that made it clear she didn’t quite accept it. “Could you at the very least tell me why can’t I use my magic? It’s been rather distressing…”

The unicorn looked down and gently scratched the cushion she was sitting on. Synthetic fabric and probably an equally synthetic filling. It was somewhat simplistic, obviously meant to be more utilitarian than decorative. She doubted the offer to redesign their upholstery would be a valid bargaining bit to use in exchange of her freedom.

Serene gave out a long, sustained sigh, as if their short conversation had worn her down. “I can see how that could be worrisome, yes.”

“Very much so. Why, imagine if one moment you woke up and part of you was missing. I dare say you wouldn’t take it very well,” Rarity said, looking back at her.

The other mare didn’t reply, she kept her gaze fixed on Rarity, as though staring past her. “It would be very distressing indeed, Miss Rarity.”

The unicorn did a double take, and looked back at Serene with confusion.

“I… I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be, it’s not something you should—”

“What did you just call me?” Rarity asked with a mix of bewilderment and, perhaps, a hint of ire.

It was now Serene’s turn to be confused. She took a quick glance at the files she had on the desk before looking back at the unicorn. Before she had the chance to speak again, she was assaulted with more demands.

“How do you know her?” Rarity yelled, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked.


“I said…” Twilight grunted, doing her best to contain herself, “Why did you call me Rarity?”

A look of comprehension dawned on Serene, who simply closed the file she held in her hooves and looked straight ahead at the alicorn. “My mistake, your Highness,” she said.

Twilight wasn’t sure how to react. On one hoof, the mare in front of her held the answers to all the mysteries that had plagued her today. On the other one, she wanted nothing more than to blow apart this blasted room and get back home.

“Start talking. Now,” the alicorn muttered under her breath.

The earth mare closed her eyes and sighed in defeat. Twilight didn’t understand why, though at the moment she found it hard to care.

“Tell me, Princess. What do you remember before this very moment?”

“Don’t change the topic, Serene, I want to know exactly what’s happening!”

“I am not changing the topic, I’m trying to explain. So tell me, Princess,” Serene said with an authoritative tone not appropriate for addressing royalty,” what do you remember before I called you by your friend’s name?”

Twilight didn’t let her glare waver as she talked, “You were about to tell me why I couldn’t use my magic.”

“Is that what you remember?”

“Of course it is.”

“Let me rephrase: Do you remember that happening, or do you remember yourself doing that, Princess?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I…”

Twilight was at a loss of words. She clearly remembered the conversation that had transcurred mere moments ago. But when she considered the way Serene had put it, she couldn’t quite place herself in those memories.

“Is it coming back now?”

“What… What did you do?”

“I told you the truth. I called you Rarity because at the moment I was talking with Rarity.”

If Twilight had thought the early silence of the room was oppressing, it had nothing on the deathly grip of the one that followed Serene Breeze’s confession.

“You’re not making any sense, Serene,” Twilight said, though her wavery tone betrayed her resolve.

“Am I, Princess?” Serene Breeze’s voice was no longer accusatory. It was more of a simple matter-of-factly tone. “Tell me, do you remember me holding you as you cried? Do you remember the guards coming down on you to prevent you from hurting yourself? Do you even remember greeting me as I entered the room?”

Twilight wanted to answer, she wanted to tell that mare that she perfectly remembered that and that she was the one in the wrong, and to make her stop wasting her time.

But she couldn’t.

Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to force the words out, but all the time her mind could only come to the realisation that Serene was right. Her memories of those events were vivid, as one would expect from actions taken in the recent past, but they felt alien. Foreign in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. It was almost as though she remembered watching a movie of those events rather than having lived through them.

“What… How?” Twilight babbled as her brain tried to process what was happening. “Why?”

Her eyes softened, taking on a pleading nature.

Serene didn’t move. Her gaze remained on the mare in front of her as she opened one of the desk drawers. “Because none of you are who you think you are,” she said as she pulled out a small hoof mirror and pushed it towards the alicorn.

Twilight didn’t move, she didn’t think she could.

“Please, your Highness. The fact that you changed from Rarity’s mind so quickly means we don’t have much time left,” Serene said in an pleading, almost begging tone.

With trembling hooves, Twilight reached for the mirror, lifting it up with fear at the uncertainty of what it would reveal. After the nerve grating moments she had spent in the brick room, there shouldn’t be much more that could surprise her, but she couldn’t help but doubt as she held the mirror just outside her range of vision.

Swallowing hard, Twilight gently turned it around until it was facing her, and felt her blood run cold as she saw who looked back at her.

“It’s been quite a long time, your Highness. Equestria has changed in your absence,” Serene said, keeping her head down in a respectful bow.

Twilight didn’t react. She was barely aware of the mare’s words, for the sole object of her focus was the mirror held in her hoof.

“I can assure you that is no illusion,” the mare whispered. “What you see is the reality and the reason I’m speaking with you instead of the mare in the mirror is thanks to decades of dedicated magical research by the brightest minds in Equestria.”

“...Decades?” Twilight finally said after minutes of silence, though her eyes never left the mirror.

Serene Breeze nodded. “It’s been many, many years since the times the Element Bearers graced Equestria with their light.”

“How long,” Twilight asked.

“Far too long.”

It seemed as though each burst of dialogue was followed by a greater span of silence. Twilight didn’t notice, though apparently Serene took an issue with it seeing how she walked around the desk and forced Twilight to look straight at her.

“Princess,” she said, taking her head between her hooves, “if we have gone to such lengths to contact you and your friends is only because Equestria needs your guidance.”

“How…” Twilight started. “How is this even possible.”

“While I would love to go over the intricacies of the spell with you, but that will have to wait for some other time,” Serene moved back as a smile spread across her face, “suffice to say that you’re an echo of the Bearers. And once the effect of the spell are over, you will lay dormant, and we’ve vowed it will remain that way unless you choose to lend a helping hoof to Equestria once again.”

Twilight didn’t reply, but rather opted to look back into the mirror, and at the brown pegasus mare who looked back at her.

“Who was she?” the Princess asked.

“A very brave and selfless mare,” Serene said as she looked at the brown pegasus in front of her.

“I… I’m not sure how I should react,” Twilight said, half to Serene and half to herself.


“I sure do,” Pinkie chimed in, turning around and giving Serene a wide smile. “I knew something was up with you, Missy Breezy.”

“I’m… what?” Serene said, dumbfounded by the sudden shift.

“Oh, don’t worry. All’s well that ends well, and other motivational phrases. Of course we’d love to help Equestria!”

Serene drew a sharp breath as her eyes widened.


“Honestly, girl. You should’ve opened with that. For a second I thought you weren’t playing with a full bag of jacks, but I can’t say no when ponies need help,” Applejack said, rising her hoof to her head as if to tip a hat that wasn’t there. “Shoot, that’s gonna take some gettin’ used to…”

“I… Oh, thanks so mu—”


“Yeah, yeah. I still don’t trust you,” Rainbow Dash pointed an outstretched hoof towards Serene. A few seconds later, her features softened considerably. “But I’ll never leave Equestria hanging. And if my friends are in, I’m in too.”


Fluttershy took Serene’s hoof with her own outstretched hoof. “I’m always willing to help those in need. I don’t know how much of a help I could possibly give you, but I will do my best.”


“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t lend a helping hoof if it’s within my power to do so,” Rarity said with a subdued smile of her own. “You can definitely count me in, darling.”


Twilight looked at Serene Breeze, her expression a complete antithesis of her name. Tears were flowing freely from her eyes as she looked at her with a jubilant smile.

“Equestria will always need Friendship,” Twilight said as she looked down at the small mirror in her hoof, and saw the pegasus mare smiling back at her. “That will never change. You have that friendship inside of you, maybe you’ve forgotten, but it’s there.”

Serene didn’t dare interrupt her, she limit herself to keep staring at her with longing eyes.

“But if you ever need somepony to remind you,” Twilight said, smiling widely at Serene Breeze, “we’ll be here for you.”

Relieved, happy, at ease… There were many ways to define how Serene Breeze felt at the moment, but her heart was far too preoccupied with beating its way through her chest for her to think in any but one of them.

She felt grateful.