Applied Mathemagics

[Yuki no Yue]

I really like how you have developed the story, although the whole thing about eyes and whatnot feels a bit excessive. But I'm not a fan of body horror, so it makes sense.

Still, from another point of view, I really hope that Kinetic Flux finds a way to... relax? Remove some weights off his mind? The whole thing is not sustainable.

 

[liquid_oni]

I love the chapters and do you have a posting schedule?

 

[TheFabulousCustodes]

What can I say, except thanks for another three great chapters!

I'm looking forward to the end of the competition.

 

[Riddlest]

I love the chapters and do you have a posting schedule?

Click to shrink...

As the crow flies.

 

[LeonT]

"It's not Magic, it's just manipulating atoms and the building blocks of reality. You know, physics. "

"That is the scariest fucking thing I've ever heard a Mage say."

I'm looking forward to more "Friendship is Atomic"

 

[Riddlest]

The remaining matches in the second round proceed without much fanfare, the contenders engaging in duels that showcase their skill and creativity but lack the raw spectacle of the earlier fights. As the dust settles and the arena is prepared for the semifinals, I find myself standing in the waiting area, going over my strategies.

The semifinals are announced, and the crowd's excitement builds once again. My name is called, along with my opponent's—an average-sized unicorn stallion with a deep green coat and a cutie mark resembling a glowing rune. His name, if I recall correctly, is Verdant Glyph. Normally, I'd think nothing of it—just another opponent. But when I step into the arena, it's clear something's off.

Verdant Glyph looks nervous. His hooves shuffle on the tiled floor, and his horn flickers faintly as he prepares his precast spell. His eyes dart to me briefly, then away again, unable to hold my gaze. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why.

The incident with Brimstone.

I don't miss the way the crowd murmurs as I take my place across from Verdant Glyph. The memory of my last match still lingers in the air, the burst eardrums and the crowd's disapproval fresh in everyone's minds. It's clear that the reputation I've inadvertently built has started to weigh on my opponents.

The referee steps forward, her expression neutral as always. "Combatants, prepare your precast spells."

Verdant Glyph lights his horn.

I stay still, my horn silent. The referee glances at me. "Kinetic Flux, will you be precasting a spell?"

I tilt my head, letting a forced sly smirk play on my lips. "No. And trust me, you wouldn't like me to change my mind."

The crowd stirs at my response, their whispers carrying a mix of surprise and expectation. Verdant Glyph looks even more unsettled, his nervous energy palpable.

The referee raises her hoof. "Combatants ready? Begin!"

Verdant Glyph doesn't waste a second. His barrier snaps into place, a glowing dome that crackles faintly with stored energy. It's defensive, it's clear he's already on the back foot, expecting an immediate assault.

I don't move right away, watching him carefully. My horn flares faintly as I assess the situation. I could overpower him outright, but after what happened with Brimstone, I need to tread carefully. There's no reason to risk hurting him—at least, not physically.

An idea forms, and I focus on the floor beneath his barrier. My magic reaches out, subtly tugging at the forces holding the stone together. Slowly, quietly, I create a small hole, just wide enough to slip through unnoticed. Glyph, too preoccupied with his next spell, doesn't seem to notice.

I levitate a small amount of of chalk dust from my bag, guiding it through the hole and beneath his barrier. The moment it emerges on his side, I make it oscillate rapidly, creating a faint but unsettling hum. Glyph startles, his horn flickering as he glances around, visibly unnerved.

"Stay calm, Glyph," I murmur under my breath, though he can't hear me. "You're just giving me more to work with."

The chalk's oscillations intensify, the sound growing deeper and more resonant. Glyph hesitates, clearly distracted, and I seize the moment. My horn glows brighter as I activate the Doppler illusion, wrapping his head in a swirling veil of refracted light. The chalk becomes a dome, forming a distorted, chaotic landscape around him—a twisted approximation of hell.

Flames and brimstone erupt around him, their hues vivid and unnatural. The monsters I conjure are grotesque amalgamations of nightmares: towering figures with elongated limbs that end in claws too sharp to be natural, their faces featureless save for wide, gaping maws filled with jagged, uneven teeth. Shadows writhe like living things, taking on shifting forms that seem to grow closer every time Glyph blinks.

One creature stands out—a hulking, sinewy beast, its skin glistening with a sickly red sheen. Its elongated limbs end in razor-sharp claws, its face a gaping maw filled with jagged teeth, and a perpetual, bone-chilling grin. Another monster, smaller, scuttles on too many legs, its movements unnaturally jerky. Its skin seems to shimmer, flickering between translucent and solid, revealing pulsating organs beneath.

Glyph's breathing grows ragged as he stumbles back, his spells forgotten. The illusion intensifies as I use my telekinesis to create a tube-like barrier in front of my mouth, lowering the pitch of my voice to a deep, otherworldly rumble.

"Before there was time… before there was anything… there was nothing," I intone, my voice echoing unnaturally.

Glyph freezes, his eyes wide with terror as he looks around frantically.

"And before there was nothing… there were monsters."

The crowd watches in stunned silence, unaware of the specifics but sensing the gravity of what's unfolding. Glyph's knees hit the ground, his horn dimming and the shield falling entirely as his magic fails him. He's trembling, tears streaming down his face as he cries out, "No… no, I'm a good pony! I don't deserve this!"

I press on, the illusion shifting around him, the flames licking closer as the monsters loom ever nearer. "You cling to goodness, Glyph? Can you feel it now, slipping away in the presence of such horrors?"

He drops to his knees, his horn sparking as if trying to cast a spell but failing. The fear in his eyes is palpable, his confidence utterly shattered.

"Please!" he begs, his voice cracking. "I surrender! I'm a good pony! Get them away from me!"

The referee steps forward, waving her hoof sharply. "Stop! Kinetic Flux, stand down! Verdant Glyph has surrendered!"

I release the illusion immediately, the monstrous landscape vanishing in an instant. Glyph collapses, trembling on the arena floor, his eyes wide and unblinking as he clutches his chest. The crowd is dead silent for a moment before breaking into scattered murmurs. Their discontent from my previous match now seems to have turned into outright disapproval.

I stand there, a frown slowly forming on my face, my chest tight with a mix of anger and disbelief. I didn't lay a hoof on him, but the fear in his eyes suggests I might as well have.

With each heavy step back to the examinees' bench, the weight of their stares and whispers bears down on me. Their murmurs trail behind me like accusingly, their unease cutting deep. My heart pounds, not from the fight, but from the injustice of their scrutiny—how far I have to go to secure a victory in a 'pony' way.

Verdant Glyph is led off the arena floor, still trembling as the medics check him over. The referee announces my advancement to the final round, but the words barely register. I slump into my seat, the wooden bench creaking faintly under my weight. Around me, the remaining examinees give me a wide berth, their expressions a mix of wariness and disdain.

I don't care. Not about them, not about the crowd, not even about the judges.

The next matches are called, but I barely pay attention. The sounds of spells colliding, the cheers and gasps of the crowd—they're background noise to the storm in my head.

Eventually, the semifinals narrow down to the final two: Radiant Glow and me. She strides back to the waiting area, her head held high and her fiery mane glowing faintly in the arena's light. She glances my way, her smirk sharp and self-assured, as if daring me to try my tactics on her.

The tension between us is palpable, even from across the waiting area. She's confident, likely because she knows how to use her artifact to devastating effect. I don't doubt her skill. But I'm not about to let her win easily. Not after everything I've put myself through to get this far.

"Final match: Kinetic Flux versus Radiant Glow!" the referee announces, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd.

I push myself to my hooves, my body moving almost mechanically. The murmurs among the crowd grow louder as I step onto the arena floor, their unease now mixed with anticipation. Radiant Glow takes her place opposite me, her smirk unwavering, her artifact already glowing faintly as she prepares.

The referee looks at us both, her expression stern. "Combatants, prepare your precast spells."

Radiant Glow doesn't hesitate, her horn flaring as she begins to weave a complex spell. Her artifact hums with energy, its glow intensifying. She's going all out, clearly aiming to end this match decisively.

I stand still, my horn silent, my expression unreadable.

"Kinetic Flux, will you be precasting a spell?" the referee asks, her tone neutral.

I shake my head, masking the weariness with a smile. "Nah. I like to keep things spontaneous."

The crowd stirs again, their whispers growing louder. Radiant Glow's smirk widens slightly, as if she's already won.

The referee raises her hoof. "Combatants ready? Begin!"

The arena falls silent, the air charged with anticipation as the final match begins.

Radiant Glow stands tall as the match begins, her horn flaring brilliantly as she casts a shimmering shield that envelops her entirely—including the ground beneath her. It's a smart move. She's clearly been paying attention, learning from my earlier tactics of bypassing shields through the floor. The crowd murmurs appreciatively at her ingenuity.

I take a moment to assess. A shield like that is tough, no doubt, but it's also energy-intensive. Fine. I'll force her to play my game.

I reach into my bag, pulling out a small amount of chalk and compressing it into a dense, pebble-sized projectile. My horn glows faintly as I focus, accelerating the tiny chalk mass to an absurd velocity—my railgun 'spell'. But I aim carefully, targeting the edge of her shield rather than the center, away from her body. No point in risking harm unnecessarily.

The pebble releases with a sharp crack, its velocity so extreme that the air around it ripples faintly. The projectile slams into her shield with tremendous force. The impact isn't just a hit—it's catastrophic. The shield shatters like glass under a hammer, sending radiant fragments of magic spiraling outward in a burst of energy.

The crowd gasps as the pebble doesn't stop there. It strikes the arena's protective barrier, punching through it with a resounding crash before disappearing about an inch beyond the shield. Clearly, the arena has safeguards to prevent projectiles from causing real damage outside its bounds. Still, the display leaves the audience in stunned silence.

Radiant Glow staggers, a pained expression crossing her face as the magical backlash from her shattered shield hits her.

She recovers quickly, gritting her teeth as she activates her artifact. The pendant flares to life, and I know in a moment a concentrated laser beam will shoot toward me. Her movements are calculated—she's aiming for precision and power, clearly trying to end this before I can retaliate.

But she's not the only one who's learned from previous matches.

I've been watching her for a while, studying how she fights. Her beams are fast, deadly, and precise—a challenge for anyone relying on conventional defenses. I can't use shield spells like most others, so I've had to think outside the box. I knew this moment would come, and now, it's time to see if my theory holds.

I focus on the air between us, my horn glowing brighter as the gas ionizes in an instant, ripping electrons from their atoms. A with a deafeningBOOMa brilliant white-blue curtain of plasma erupts , the searing heat radiating outward in waves.

The beam from her artifact strikes the plasma curtain but fails to penetrate. Instead, the photons scatter, their energy absorbed by the superheated, ionized gas. The light of her laser dims as it dissipates harmlessly into the plasma. Another beam meets another shield. She fires seemingly endless beams as Radiant's expression shifts from determination to visible frustration as her trump card is rendered ineffective. Though I try not to show how draining it is, I'm not wholly unaffected.

With Radiant Glow's shield gone and her artifact neutralized, I decide it's time to end this. My horn flares as I gather the remaining chalk from my pouch, compressing it into a series of small, dense pebbles. The effort is precise, the chalk forming perfect spheres as they hover in the air around her, glinting faintly under the arena lights.

The crowd holds its breath as I move the pebbles into position. One by one, they encircle Radiant Glow, orbiting her at different heights and angles. Their slow, deliberate movement is designed to be intimidating, each one a reminder of how quickly I could turn the tide if I wanted to.

Radiant Glow's eyes dart to the pebbles, her horn glowing faintly as she considers her next move. But she hesitates, clearly calculating the risks. One wrong move, and the chalk could strike—not as hard as I hit the shield, but enough to ensure her defeat.

"Radiant Glow," I rasp, dragging up a smirk despite the burn in my lungs. "No shield, no artifact, no way out. Care to make this easier for both of us?"

She glares at me, her fiery mane seeming to blaze brighter with her frustration. For a moment, it looks like she might try something desperate, her horn sparking as if to cast another spell. But the pebbles around her shift slightly, tightening their orbit, and she freezes.

The crowd watches in tense silence, the energy in the arena thick enough to cut with a knife. Even the judges seem on edge, their expressions unreadable as they observe the standoff.

"Truly a worthy effort!" I say, keeping the strain out of my voice. "But I'm afraid the curtain's falling on your act. Time to take a bow and call it quits, hmm?"

Radiant's eyes narrow, her pride clearly warring with her sense of self-preservation. Finally, with a heavy exhale, her horn dims, and she raises a hoof.

"I surrender," she says, her voice strained but clear.

The referee steps forward immediately, raising her hoof. "Winner: Kinetic Flux!"

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and murmurs, the tension giving way to an uncertain excitement. I release the pebbles, letting them fall harmlessly to the arena floor as I step back, my chest heaving slightly from the exertion.

Radiant Glow shoots me a sharp look as she walks past, her pride clearly bruised. "You're good," she mutters, her voice low enough that only I can hear. "But your luck won't hold out next time."

The roar of the crowd is deafening as the referee declares me the winner. I step back, sweat dripping down my face as the weight of the tournament begins to sink in. It's over. I've won. The tension that's been my constant companion throughout these trials begins to fade, replaced by an odd mix of relief and unease.

Radiant Glow strides off the arena floor, her head held high despite her defeat. Her parting words linger in my mind, but I push them aside. This wasn't about pride—it was about survival, about proving myself. Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

As I glance toward the judges' booth, expecting some semblance of acknowledgment or approval, my chest tightens. They're not cheering, not even clapping. Instead, they're conferring quietly, their expressions grim and serious.

Sunny sits with her serene mask firmly in place, but her eyes betray her disappointment. Stonehoof looks outright irritated, his thick brows drawn together as he gestures emphatically. Ivory Quill's sharp gaze is fixed on me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Even Zuri, usually calm and measured, wears a faint frown, her head tilted in thought.

The stark contrast between the crowd's celebration and the judges' somber demeanor makes my stomach churn.

I step off the arena floor, my movements automatic, and head back toward the waiting area. The noise of the crowd fades as I sit down, my legs heavy, my mind racing. The weight of their judgment presses down on me harder than I'd expected.

Had I gone too far?

Glyph's terror-stricken face flashes in my mind, followed by the image of Brimstone clutching his ears in agony. I hadn't meant to harm anyone. But intentions don't always align with outcomes, do they?

The moments after the final match pass in a blur. When I'm called to the podium to accept the victory laurels, the applause feels hollow, as though it's meant for someone else. The judges approach, their expressions still dark, and the crowd's cheers taper off as the mood shifts.

Sunny Smiles steps forward first, her voice calm but edged with a seriousness that feels foreign from her usual tone. "Congratulations, Kinetic Flux. Your ingenuity and strength have secured your victory. But…"

The word hangs in the air, heavy with implication.

Stonehoof crosses his forelegs, his gruff voice cutting through the silence. "You were reckless. That pebble of yours could've hurt somepony in the audience if the safeguards hadn't kicked in."

Ivory Quill's sharp voice follows. "Your treatment of Verdant Glyph was unnecessary. Cruel, even. Intimidation is one thing, but making a fellow unicorn believe he's been sent to Tartarus? That goes beyond the spirit of this competition."

Zuri nods, her tone softer but no less firm. "Your talent is undeniable, but your methods… they lack discipline. Magic is a tool, Kinetic Flux. A dangerous one. Wield it without care, and you risk becoming a danger yourself."

I clench my jaw, keeping my face neutral. Inside, though, the words cut deep. I didn't mean for things to get out of hand. I was just trying to give it my all. Is that such a crime? I don't know how to explain it without sounding like an excuse, so I stay silent.

Sunny tilts her head slightly, her expression softening. "You have great potential, Kinetic Flux. But potential is only as valuable as the choices you make. Consider today not just a victory, but a lesson."

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I… understand."

The crowd's murmurs fade as Sunny steps forward, her presence commanding even in her assumed guise. Her serene smile is gone, replaced with an air of gravitas that makes the weight of her next words even heavier.

"While your victory in the tournament is undeniable, Kinetic Flux, the path of an Archmage is not determined by strength alone," she says, her voice carrying over the stillness. "Discipline, restraint, and wisdom are equally vital. And it is in these areas that we must still see your potential."

Her words sting, even though I can't argue against them. I remain silent, waiting for her to continue.

Stonehoof steps forward next, his gruff voice filling the air. "So here's the deal. One last test. One last chance to prove you've got what it takes to be more than just raw power."

I look up at Stonehoof, his steely gaze boring into me. He gestures for me to follow, his tone carrying no room for argument. "Come with us."

The judges lead me out of the arena, away from the lingering murmurs of the crowd. The hallways of the colosseum grow quieter with every step, the echoes of our hooves on the stone floor the only sound. After a few turns, we arrive at a massive, heavy door flanked by two royal guards.

Stonehoof gestures for the guards to open it, and the runes shimmer faintly as the doors creak inward, revealing a large, dimly lit chamber. The room is stark, its only illumination coming from faintly glowing orbs along the walls. Inside, tables and shelves are lined with materials: steel, iron, wood, rope, crystals, enchanted metals, and even a few seemingly mundane items like chalk and parchment.

In the center of the room stands a metal pull door. Unlike the entrance, this one radiates an almost oppressive aura. Its surface is blank, lacking the runes the other door had.

Sunny steps forward, her voice calm but firm. "This is your final test, Kinetic Flux. Before you stands a door that has been enchanted to be impervious to nearly every spell and force we could devise. Your task is simple: open it."

"Simple," I echo under my breath, my tone dripping with irony.

Sunny's gaze sharpens slightly, but she doesn't respond. Instead, she gestures to the room. "You may use anything within these walls. There are no rules, save for one: you may not leave this room. Doing so will end the test, and you will fail."

Stonehoof steps up beside her, his gruff tone filling the chamber. "We'll be watching. No hints, no help. Show us what you've got."

Zuri and Ivory Quill remain silent, their eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. It's clear they're here to judge not just my abilities but my approach. Every move I make will be scrutinized.

I take a deep breath, stepping into the room. The door behind me closes with a heavy thud, the sound echoing ominously. The judges follow, taking up positions near the walls to observe.

I turn my attention to the enchanted door.

Great. This is going to be fun.

I glance around the room, taking stock of the materials. Steel and iron loops catch my eye first, along with a small anvil and a set of basic forging tools. On another table, I see crystals humming faintly with stored magic. There's wood, rope, chalk, parchment—everything a unicorn might need for crafting or experimenting. The sheer variety is overwhelming, but I know I need to focus.

First, I test the door's limits. I try a simple telekinetic pull, but the door absorbs the force effortlessly.

The judges remain silent, their gazes heavy on my back. I can feel their scrutiny, their expectation.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I grab a piece of chalk from one of the tables. The simple material feels familiar in my magic, grounding me amidst the storm of thoughts racing through my mind. Grinding the chalk into a fine powder with my telekinesis, I refill my chalk bag. Truthfully I dont think I'll use it, but I wanted it so I took it.

The door looms in front of me, its stillness practically daring me to try something unconventional. I focus on the air around the door, my horn glowing faintly as I vibrate the particles, generating an intense friction that heats the surface. The door remains unchanged.

Good. Let's see how it handles the opposite extreme.

Without hesitation, I reverse the process, forcing the air particles to slow and lose energy, rapidly freezing the surface. Frost crawls across the middle of the door. The door begins to creak under the temperature shift. A faint crackling sound echoes through the chamber, and I allow myself a flicker of hope. It's working.

I press on, amplifying the vibration and freeze cycle, alternating between the two in rapid succession to stress the material further. Small fractures form along the surface of the door. The cracks widen, and the sound of warping metal fills the room.

But then, as suddenly as they appeared, the fractures vanish. The door shines brilliantly, and the cracks knit themselves back together with a smooth, almost fluid motion. It's as if the door simply rewound time, undoing the damage entirely.

I stagger back, my chest heaving. The door stands as pristine as ever, its surface once again unmarred. I glance at the judges, expecting some reaction, but their faces remain impassive. Not a word, not even a raised eyebrow. They're giving me nothing.

Frustration claws at me, but I shove it down. They're testing me, waiting to see what I'll try next. Fine. Let's give them something worth watching.

I turn back to the door, my gaze narrowing as I reach into my chalk bag. Pulling out a small pebble I'd previously compressed, I hold it aloft in my telekinesis, feeling the dense weight of its potential. This spell has never failed me before, and if there's even a sliver of hope that brute force might crack this thing open, I'll take it.

"Step back," I say, glancing over my shoulder at the judges. My voice is calm, steady, but it carries the weight of a warning.

They don't move, nor do they react in any visible way. Stonehoof's stony expression remains unchanged, Zuri watches me with her serene yet calculating gaze, and Ivory Quill's sharp eyes remain fixed on the door. Sunny Smiles—Celestia—stands still, her serene demeanor as impenetrable as the door itself.

Ignoring their silence, I turn back to the task at hoof. The hum of vibrating air grows louder, the tension in in the room thick as I align the shot. With one final push, I release the pebble.

The air cracks like a whip as the pebble shoots toward the door at an incredible velocity, the force of its movement creating a faint ripple in the air. But as it reaches the door, something unexpected happens. Instead of shattering the surface or even leaving a mark, the pebble vanishes. Gone. No impact, no sound. Just… nothing.

For a moment, I think I see a faint flicker of light out of the corner of my eye, coming from where the judges are standing. My head snaps toward them, but they're exactly as they were—still, silent, watching. No one has moved.

I turn back to the door, my mind racing. Whatever this thing is, brute force isn't going to cut it. Fine. If I can't break it, I'll try something else. Something more… unconventional.

My gaze sweeps over the materials in the room, finally landing on some iron loops. An idea sparks—one I'd been toying with before but dismissed as impractical. It's time to see if I can turn theory into practice.

Grabbing one of the iron loops with my magic, I lift it into the air, focusing intently as I begin to work. Using telekinesis, I manipulate the electrons within the iron, forcing them to move. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my horn begins to ache as I pour more energy into the task.

Minutes drag by, but eventually, I feel the shift. The loop begins to hum faintly, a subtle vibration coursing through it as the magnetic field strengthens. It's crude and not nearly as efficient as it could be, but it's enough. I push harder, amplifying the field until the pull is unmistakable. The magnet is strong now—strong enough to tug at the heavy enchanted door.

I aim the magnetic field toward the door, keeping it just off the surface. At first, nothing happens. But then, with a groaning creak, the door begins to shift. The door flares brighter, but the magnet's pull doesn't relent. I spare a look at the judges.

The judges exchange glances, their previously unreadable expressions betraying a flicker of unease. Ivory Quill's sharp eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. Stonehoof's usual scowl deepens, and even Zuri tilts her head slightly, her calm demeanor wavering.

The door groans louder, moving incrementally under the strain. My chest tightens with effort as I push the magnet to its limit, the energy required becoming almost unbearable. But then, with a shuddering heave, the door moves further—just enough to reveal a sliver of the space beyond.

I glance back at the judges, expecting them to intervene or give some reaction. Sunny Smiles remains stoic, but there's a tension in her posture that wasn't there before. Ivory Quill looks downright nervous, her hoof twitching faintly as if resisting the urge to step forward.

Before I can process their reactions fully, I look back at the door—and freeze.

The door is closed again. Not just closed—sealed. The mechanisms untouched, as if the last few moments hadn't happened at all. The space itself feels… off, like the air has shifted subtly. It's as if reality itself adjusted, undoing my progress.

I pull back and release the magnet, my horn dimming as the iron clatters to the floor. My breath comes in sharp gasps, exhaustion pulling at me as I stagger back. The door remains unyielding, its surface unchanged.

My mana is running low.

From behind me, I hear a faint sound—a sigh of relief. I glance back to see Ivory Quill exhaling softly, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. It's subtle, but it's there.

What the hell is going on? Why would she be relieved? What are they not telling me?

The room falls silent again, the door standing as resolute as ever. My mind churns with frustration and confusion, but one thing is clear: this test is more than just about opening the door. Something else is at play here, and I'm running out of ideas.

I stand there, staring at the door that seems to defy every effort I've thrown at it. My breathing steadies as I take a step back, letting the silence of the room settle over me. My horn aches from overuse, and my thoughts feel scattered, like puzzle pieces scattered across a table. But one thing sticks in my mind—the judges' reactions.

They're not just observing. They're involved.

Ivory Quill's sigh of relief, the faint flicker of light I caught earlier, the unease when the door moved—it all adds up. My gaze drifts to them, standing impassively along the walls. Each of them is watching me closely, their expressions carefully neutral. Too neutral.

It's not just the door I need to solve. It's the situation.

I close my eyes, letting the events of the test play back in my mind. The seemingly impossible door, how the test is meant to show I'm not just all magic muscle, the unspoken hints in their behavior, the fact that they, too, are within this sealed room. None of it makes sense until I look at it from a different angle. If the test is just about opening the door, then why are they in here with me? Unless…

The realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. They're keeping the door closed. The test isn't about breaking the enchantments. It's about something else entirely.

Friendship.

The word feels foreign, almost laughable, given the intensity of everything leading up to this moment. But as I glance back at the judges, their calm, expectant faces, it starts to make sense. The lessons from the tournament, the way they emphasized discipline, restraint, and being more than just a force of nature—it was all building to this.

I take a deep breath, turning fully to face them. My voice is calm, measured, as I ask the question I've been dreading.

"Would you mind opening the door, please?"

The silence that follows is deafening. For a moment, none of them move, and I wonder if I've miscalculated. But then, slowly, Sunny steps forward, her serene expression breaking into a warm, genuine smile.

"Of course, Kinetic Flux," she says, her voice carrying a note of approval. "All you needed to do was ask."

The glow of her horn is soft, almost gentle, as she casts a spell. The door shimmers, and with a quiet creak, the door swings open, revealing a simple corridor bathed in soft, golden light.

The other judges step forward, their expressions more relaxed now. Ivory Quill smiles faintly, her sharp features softening. "Magic is a powerful tool," she says, her tone carrying a hint of satisfaction. "But it is not the only tool. Wisdom lies in knowing when to use it—and when to rely on others."

Stonehoof grunts, crossing his forelegs as he nods. "A lesson a lot of mages forget. You can't always brute force your way through life."

Zuri steps closer, her calm gaze meeting mine. "Strength and intelligence are vital, but humility and trust are just as important. You have shown all four today."

I look at them, a mix of relief and frustration swirling in my chest. "So this whole thing… it wasn't about opening the door at all, was it?"

Sunny Smiles shakes her head, her smile widening. "The door was a metaphor, Kinetic Flux. A reflection of the challenges you will face as an Archmage. Some problems cannot be solved with power alone. The people around you are just as important as the spells you cast."

I stand there, letting the weight of their words settle over me. The idea of friendship as the key to the test still feels a little… contrived.

Sunny Smiles steps forward, her regal composure now undeniable. Her magic flashes briefly, and her disguise melts away, revealing her true form. She regards my lack of surprise with a calm, knowing expression, as though she'd expected it all along.

Celestia gestures toward the now-open door. "Shall we?"

The judges step aside, motioning for me to walk through. The corridor beyond glows softly, the golden light almost inviting. I steel myself and step forward, the judges following close behind.

As we move, the light grows brighter, the hum of the crowd outside growing louder. The path opens into the colosseum once more, and the cheers of the audience explode around me. I blink against the sudden brightness, the sound washing over me like a wave. The arena is packed, every seat filled, and the energy is electric.

"Ponies of Equestria," she calls out, her voice amplified but still serene. "Today, we gather not just to witness strength, skill, and ingenuity, but to celebrate the values that define us as a kingdom: wisdom, courage, and the ability to connect with one another. Kinetic Flux has demonstrated these qualities, proving himself worthy of the title of Archmage."

The crowd's applause feels almost surreal. I force a calm smile, though my chest feels tight. As I step forward, Celestia nods, her horn glowing as a golden laurel appears in the air before her.

"With this, I formally appoint you, Kinetic Flux, to the rank of Archmage," she says, her voice ringing with authority. The laurel lowers gently onto my head, and the crowd roars their approval.

The spotlight is on me now, and I can't resist the call of the crowd. Bowing deeply, I sweep my hoof theatrically across my chest. "Thank you, thank you," I say, my voice carrying just the right amount of playful arrogance. "I humbly accept this honor… though, between us, I did have a suspicion I was destined for greatness."

A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd, cutting through the overwhelming noise. Even Celestia raises an eyebrow, her serene smile showing a hint of amusement.

"But of course," I continue, straightening up, "such achievements are never reached alone. My thanks to the judges for their… illuminating lessons and to my fellow competitors for the, ah, spirited competition."

More laughter, more cheers. It feels oddly comforting, leaning into the performance, turning the focus away from the weight of what just happened.

Celestia nods approvingly as I turn back to the judges. Their expressions range from mild amusement to begrudging approval. Even Ivory Quill, sharp as ever, seems to be holding back a smirk.

As I look out over the crowd, the cheers washing over me, one thought lingers in the back of my mind.

What now?

The moment feels like it should be triumphant, but my chest tightens as Celestia steps closer, her serene gaze sharp and unyielding. She gestures to one of the attendants, who brings forward a small scroll, its edges trimmed with gold and bearing her royal seal.

"Kinetic Flux," she begins, her voice calm but carrying that unmistakable authority that makes every word land like a decree. "As tradition dictates, a unicorn Archmage of Equestria must demonstrate mastery over the Flarebound Missive spell—an essential tool for direct communication with the crown."

The crowd falls silent, their collective gaze drilling into me. I force a smile, tilting my head in a show of casual curiosity as I accept the scroll with my telekinesis.

Shit.

"Of course, Your Majesty," I reply smoothly, unrolling the scroll and scanning its contents. My stomach knots as I read.

"Scriptum volat, caelum secat,
Verbum meum longe vehat.
Igne sacro nunc feratur,
Ad destinatarium transitur.
Draconis flamma duce viam,
Mandatum perveniat I am."

The spell's instructions are simple, deceptively so, yet completely alien to me. A mental chant in Latin, a relatively simple visualization pattern, and intent focused on establishing a magical link. It's the kind of magic I've avoided my entire time in equestria. I'm painfully aware of my limits—telekinesis is all I've got. No chants, no patterns, no skill outside of brute manipulation of matter.

"Ah," I say, clearing my throat. "A classic spell, no doubt. Though I must admit, I wasn't aware it was part of the tradition for unicorns alone."

Celestia's smile doesn't falter, but there's a glint in her eyes. "Indeed. A long-standing tradition, one that demonstrates not only magical skill but also the Archmage's commitment to maintaining communication and collaboration."

I nod, rolling the scroll up with deliberate precision as I stall for time. "Naturally, naturally. A fine tradition, one that I'm honored to uphold."

I pause, looking up at her with a carefully measured expression. "Though I must confess, Your Majesty, I wasn't entirely prepared for this particular spell. You see, my training has always focused on, shall we say, practical applications. Combat spells, environmental manipulation… the kind of magic one might use in the field."

Celestia's expression softens, but only slightly. "The Flarebound Missive is practical, Kinetic Flux. Communication is a cornerstone of effective leadership, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course!" I say, forcing a laugh that sounds just a bit too loud to my ears. "Absolutely. Communication is vital. And I assure you, I am fully committed to learning this spell."

"Excellent," she replies, her voice carrying just enough warmth to feel like a trap. "You may proceed whenever you're ready."

I freeze for half a second, the crowd's expectant silence pressing down on me like a physical weight.

"Well, the thing is," I begin, rubbing the back of my neck with a hoof in what I hope comes across as endearing awkwardness, "it's been a… taxing day. The tournament, the final test… my magical reserves are, shall we say, running on fumes. I'd hate to fumble such an important spell due to sheer exhaustion."

Celestia raises an eyebrow, her smile tightening ever so slightly. "An understandable concern. However, I've observed you throughout the tournament, and your magical stamina appears… substantial."

I laugh again, a strained sound that earns a few chuckles from the crowd. "Ah, well, appearances can be deceiving, Your Majesty. A bit of cleverness can go a long way in conserving energy, but even I have my limits."

"Limits we're eager to see you overcome," she says smoothly, gesturing to the scroll. "The spell is straightforward enough for a unicorn of your… experience."

The implication isn't lost on me, and I'm painfully aware of how closely she's watching, how the crowd's silence is starting to feel like a noose tightening around my neck.

"Well, then," I say, rolling the scroll open again and scanning its contents as if studying it intently. "A brief moment to gather my thoughts, if I may?"

Celestia inclines her head, her expression unreadable. "Take all the time you need."

The problem is, I could have all the time in the world, and it wouldn't matter. My mind races as I try to concoct a plausible excuse, a way out that doesn't unravel everything I've built.

I unroll the scroll again, pretending to study its intricate diagrams and symbols with exaggerated care. Behind the façade, my mind works furiously. There's no way out of this—not without a plan, not without a trick.

My focus casually drifts to one of the small pouches held to my side, the one filled with finely ground chalk powder. It's a precaution I always carry, though I never expected to rely on it in front of the princess herself.

"Fascinating," I murmur, pretending to examine the scroll's arcane script. "You know, Your Majesty, spells like this remind me why magic is such a profound art. So many layers to it, so much… subtlety."

Celestia's serene smile doesn't waver, but her gaze sharpens. She knows I'm stalling, but she isn't calling me out—yet.

"Subtlety is indeed vital," she says. "It is the mark of a true master."

"Quite right," I reply, nodding as I subtly tilt the scroll to shield my actions. With a flick of telekinesis, I unseal the pouch and coax out a thin stream of chalk dust, keeping it low and out of sight.

The crowd is still silent, the weight of their collective attention pressing down on me like a physical force. No pressure. None at all.

I hold the chalk dust just below the scroll, forming a near-invisible cloud. My telekinesis begins to oscillate it rapidly, creating the foundation for my favorite trick: the Doppler Illusion.

"Now then," I announce, forcing a confident smile, "let's give this a try, shall we?"

Celestia tilts her head slightly, her curiosity barely masked.

I close my eyes for effect, pretending to focus intently. The mental chant? Not happening. The visualization pattern? I couldn't replicate it if my life depended on it. Instead, I concentrate on the chalk dust, oscillating it faster and faster, manipulating the light and air around it.

A faint green glow begins to shimmer at the edges of the scroll. The crowd murmurs, the sound a low wave of anticipation.

I let the glow intensify, the chalk particles scattering in a controlled burst that simulates the effect of the scroll catching fire. The illusion of green flames dances along the parchment, consuming it in an ethereal blaze.

The crowd gasps, and I hear Celestia's sharp intake of breath.

"Remarkable," I say, my voice calm and steady as the "burning" scroll begins to disintegrate in the air. With a precise flick of telekinesis, I make it vanish completely, simulating the teleportation effect I've seen Spike use countless times.

But I'm not done.

As the last of the "flames" flicker out, I make the scroll reappear in front of Celestia in a flash of green light—No longer a solid thing, but a series of vibrating particles. The scroll looks pristine, untouched, exactly as it was before.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but Celestia doesn't reach for the scroll. Her eyes are locked on mine, sharp and searching.

"Well done," she says, her tone light but laced with something unreadable.

I incline my head modestly, forcing a confident smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm glad the demonstration met your expectations."

Celestia's gaze lingers on me, and I feel a bead of sweat roll down the back of my neck. The crowd's applause is deafening, but it does little to drown out the sound of my heartbeat hammering in my ears.

"I must admit," she says slowly, her voice carrying an edge of curiosity, "your execution was… unconventional. I've seen theFlarebound Missiveperformed many times, but never quite like that."

"Ah, well," I say with a chuckle, waving a hoof as if brushing off a compliment, "unconventional is something of a specialty of mine. A bit of flair never hurts, wouldn't you agree?"

Celestia's lips curve into a faint smile, but her eyes remain sharp. "Indeed. Still, the spell seemed… different. It lacked the usual residual magical signature."

My stomach flips, but I keep my face carefully neutral. "A side effect of my particular style, no doubt," I say breezily. "You know how it is—every mage has their own… unique touch."

Her smile doesn't falter, but there's a knowing glint in her eyes that sets my nerves on edge. "Unique, indeed. Tell me, Kinetic Flux, what inspired you to modify such a foundational spell?"

"Ah, inspiration is a fickle thing," I reply, leaning into my act with all the confidence I can muster. "I suppose you could say I saw an opportunity to innovate. Magic is an art, after all—why not make it my own?"

"Why not, indeed," Celestia murmurs, her gaze unwavering.

The scroll hovers between us, suspended in my telekinetic grip. I know better than to let her take it—it's nothing more than compressed chalk and air, a fragile illusion that would shatter under the lightest touch. But the longer I hold onto it, the more suspicious she'll become.

With a flick of my magic, I send the scroll spiraling into the air. It vanishes in a flash of green light, eliciting another round of cheers from the crowd.

"There," I say, turning back to Celestia with a bright smile. "All accounted for. A seamless delivery, if I do say so myself."

Her expression remains unreadable, but there's a faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, as if she's suppressing a smile—or perhaps a laugh. "Seamless, indeed."

For a moment, we stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. The crowd's cheers begin to die down, their attention shifting as the announcer steps forward to address the audience.

"I must say," Celestia continues, her voice low enough that only I can hear, "you've surprised me, Kinetic Flux. I wasn't sure what to expect, but you've proven… resourceful."

"High praise from the Princess of the Sun herself," I reply, keeping my tone light. "I'm honored."

Her gaze sharpens, and for a moment, I feel as though she can see right through me. "Resourcefulness is an admirable trait, but it's not a substitute for honesty."

My smile falters, just for an instant. "Honesty, Your Majesty?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"Honesty," she repeats, her voice soft but firm. "A trait I value highly in those I place my trust in."

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication. I swallow hard, forcing myself to maintain my composure.

"Of course, Your Majesty," I say, inclining my head. "Honesty is a virtue I hold in the highest regard."

Her smile returns, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I hope so, Archmage. I truly do."

And with that, she turns, leaving me standing in the center of the coliseum, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a lead cloak.

The crowd cheers again, but this time, it feels distant, almost hollow. As I bow and wave, my mind races with questions and doubts.

She knows.

---

Author's Note:

plasma shield

Adjusted shield thickness (t_shield) = 0.015 m (1.5 cm)

Beam power (P_beam) = 10,000 W (10 kW)

Beam diameter (d_beam) = 0.1 m

Plasma temperature (T_plasma) = 5,000 K

Initial air temperature (T_initial) = 300 K

Air density (rho_air) = 1.225 kg/m3

Specific heat capacity of air (c_air) = 1,005 J/(kg·K)

Energy required to ionize air (E_ionization) = 4.8 10(-18) J per molecule

Molar mass of air (M_air) = 0.029 kg/mol

Avogadro's number (N_A) = 6.022 10(23) molecules/mol

The beam is sustained for 1 second

Step 1: Calculate the shield volume
r_beam = d_beam / 2 = 0.1 / 2 = 0.05 m
V_shield = pi (r_beam)2 t_shield
Use pi 3.14159
V_shield = 3.14159 (0.05)2 0.015
V_shield 1.18 10(-4) m3

Step 2: Calculate the mass of air in the shield
m_air = rho_air V_shield
m_air = 1.225 (1.18 10(-4))
m_air 1.45 10(-4) kg

Step 3: Calculate the energy to heat the air to 5,000 K
Q_heating = m_air c_air (T_plasma - T_initial)
T_initial = 300 K
Q_heating = (1.45 10(-4)) 1,005 (5,000 - 300)
Q_heating 6.86 J

Step 4: Calculate the energy to ionize the air
n_air = m_air / M_air
n_air = (1.45 10(-4)) / 0.029
n_air 5.00 10(-3) mol

Molecules = n_air N_A
Molecules = (5.00 10(-3)) (6.022 10(23))
Molecules 3.01 10(21)

Q_ionization = Molecules E_ionization
Q_ionization = (3.01 10(21)) (4.8 10(-18))
Q_ionization 14,448 J

Step 5: Total energy required to maintain the plasma shield
Q_total = Q_heating Q_ionization
Q_total = 6.86 14,448
Q_total 14,455 J per second

By setting the shield thickness to 1.5 cm, maintaining the plasma shield requires approximately 14,455 J per second.

 

[Riddlest]

As the crowd's cheers continue to echo through the coliseum, I exit the arena. Immediately outside I see a grand royal carriage waiting just beyond the arena gates. It's a polished masterpiece, adorned with golden filigree and pulled by four pristine white pegasi guards. Celestia waits patiently in front of the carriage, her serene expression unwavering. Her wings fold neatly at her sides as she gestures toward the carriage.

"Kinetic Flux," she says, her voice warm and inviting, though I can't help but detect an undercurrent of something sharper, "you've had quite a day. Allow me to escort you back to Canterlot. We have much to discuss."

"Oh, Your Majesty," I reply, forcing a laugh as I bow my head, "you're too kind. But surely a humble stallion like myself doesn't deserve such royal treatment. I wouldn't want to impose—"

"Nonsense," she interrupts, her smile widening ever so slightly. "You are no longer simply a 'humble stallion,' Archmage. Besides, I insist. It would give us a chance to… reflect on today's events."

The way she says reflect makes my stomach turn. There's no getting out of this, not without drawing even more suspicion. I nod with as much grace as I can muster, pasting on my best smile.

"Well, far be it from me to refuse the Princess of the Sun," I say, trying to sound gracious rather than cornered. "It would be an honor to accompany you."

"Wonderful," she replies, her voice as smooth as silk. She gestures toward the carriage, and one of the guards opens the door with a respectful bow.

I climb inside, doing my best to keep my movements casual despite the unease twisting in my gut. The interior of the carriage is just as opulent as the exterior, with plush cushions and intricate carvings along the walls. Celestia follows me in, her regal demeanor unshaken, and the door closes behind her with a soft click.

The carriage lurches forward, the hum of the crowd fading into the background as the pegasi pull us into the sky. I glance out the window, watching the coliseum grow smaller below us. The view should be breathtaking, but all I can focus on is the silent tension filling the carriage.

Celestia sits across from me, her posture relaxed, her expression one of pleasant interest. Yet her eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes—remain fixed on me, as though she's studying every detail, every twitch of my face.

"You must be exhausted," she says, breaking the silence. "The Archmage Examination is no small feat. Few have passed it with such… flair."

I chuckle nervously, leaning back against the cushion. "Ah, yes, well… flair has always been something of a specialty of mine."

"So I've noticed," she replies, her tone light but laced with something unreadable. "Your choice of magic is certainly… unique. I imagine it's a reflection of your background?"

I nod quickly, eager to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Exactly, Your Majesty. My upbringing was… unconventional, you could say. It's given me a different perspective on magic. Innovation through necessity, and all that."

"Fascinating," she says, leaning forward slightly. "Tell me, Kinetic, where did you study? I don't believe I've heard you mention it before."

Of course she'd ask that. My mind races as I cobble together an answer. "Oh, here and there," I say vaguely, waving a hoof. "I've always been something of a wanderer, picking up knowledge wherever I could find it. Books, mentors, field experience… the world is a classroom, after all."

"A classroom," she echoes, her smile widening just enough to set me on edge. "How poetic. And yet, your methods seem far removed from traditional unicorn spellcraft. It's almost as though your magic operates on an entirely different principle."

My throat tightens, but I force a casual laugh. "Ah, well, as I said, innovation through necessity. I've always found traditional methods to be a bit… restrictive. Why follow a rigid formula when you can adapt and improvise?"

"Why indeed," Celestia murmurs, her gaze never leaving mine.

The carriage sways gently as it soars through the sky, the rhythmic flapping of the pegasi's wings the only sound filling the tense silence. Celestia's gaze remains fixed on me, and I fight the urge to look away, knowing that any sign of nervousness could unravel my carefully maintained façade.

She finally speaks, her voice calm yet probing, "I was particularly impressed by your performance during the duel with Radiant Glow. That spell you used to block her magic beams… I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Oh, that?" I say, forcing a chuckle. "Just a little trick I picked up along the way. It's nothing too complicated, really—just a matter of redirecting energy. You know how it is."

Her brow arcs slightly. "Redirecting energy? Most unicorns would describe a shield spell as an act of willpower, creating a magical barrier through focus and intent. But you… interfered with the beams themselves."

"Ah, yes, well…" I wave a hoof nonchalantly, as though the intricacies of my 'magic' were hardly worth discussing. Inside, my brain screams at me to think faster. "I suppose you could call it a shield, in a sense. Just… a different interpretation of one."

Celestia tilts her head, her gaze unrelenting. "A different interpretation indeed. You manipulated the beams themselves, almost as if you… understood their nature."

Her choice of words feels like a blade pressed to my throat. Ponies don't have the vocabulary for things like interference patterns, let alone the physics behind light and energy. If I explain too much, I risk sounding nonsensical—or worse, revealing myself.

"Oh, Your Majesty," I say, forcing a warm laugh and leaning back in my seat. "It's really not as complicated as it sounds. Sometimes, when faced with danger, you don't think—you feel. You let instinct guide you. I suppose that's what happened there."

Her smile doesn't waver, but her eyes grow sharper, more curious. "Instinct can be a powerful force. Yet what I saw in your duel with Verdant Glyph was… less instinctual and more calculated. The way you wrapped that illusion around his head… It was as if you were weaving a dream, trapping him in it with such precision. The last time I saw magic like that was—" She pauses, her expression softening, though the intensity of her gaze never wanes. "—Nightmare Moon herself, before her banishment."

My stomach twists. Of all the comparisons she could have drawn, she picked the one that would paint me as either a prodigy or a heretic. I scramble for an answer, my mind working overtime to twist her suspicions into something innocuous.

"Well, I can assure you, Your Majesty," I say, injecting as much humor into my tone as I dare, "I'm no Nightmare Moon. Just a humble Archmage with a knack for improvisation."

Celestia's expression doesn't change, though I can see the gears turning behind her calm façade. "Improvisation," she repeats. "That's a generous word for something so… precise. Most illusion spells require intense focus and a deep lengthy chant. Yet you managed it in mere seconds, mid-duel. Fascinating."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it deep understanding," I say quickly, waving a hoof as if dismissing the notion. "More like… intuition. I guess I just got lucky. Sometimes a flash of inspiration strikes at the right moment, and you have to run with it."

Celestia chuckles softly, but it doesn't feel reassuring. "Luck can be an excellent ally," she says, leaning forward slightly. "But such consistent success suggests more than just luck. Tell me, Kinetic Flux, when you create these… innovations of yours, do you ever feel as though you're discovering something entirely new? Something beyond the reach of traditional spellcraft?"

The question hits me like a lightning bolt. She isn't just probing—she's testing me. I force a casual shrug, though my heart is pounding. "I wouldn't say beyond traditional spellcraft. More like… taking what's already there and looking at it from a different angle. Sometimes the old ways just need a fresh perspective, wouldn't you agree?"

Her smile widens, but her eyes don't soften. "A fresh perspective. Yes, I suppose that's one way to describe it. You must have spent years refining your techniques, studying these… alternative approaches."

"Years," I echo, nodding emphatically. "Oh, absolutely. Countless late nights and trial-and-error. It's been quite the journey."

"And yet," she says, her voice dipping into something almost playful, "...there seems to be no record of this journey," Celestia finishes, her tone as light as a feather but cutting deeper than any blade. "In fact, when I looked into your history, I found… nothing."

The word hangs in the air, suffocating and heavy. My mouth goes dry, and I stare at her, struggling to maintain the mask of confidence that has already begun to crack.

"No birth records. No documentation. No mentions in census data or town registries," she continued, her gaze never leaving mine. "No friends, no family, no sightings—at least, not until two weeks ago, when you arrived in Ponyville."

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as panic begin to claw its way to the surface. The implications of her words slam into me like a freight train. No records mean I'm not a recognized citizen of Equestria. And that meant…

Fines. Banishment. Imprisonment. Repayment of every bit I'd earned, every bit I'd spent. My H.A.R.D.I.S.—the enchanted mage's house I'd just started to settle into—would be stripped away. I'd be left with nothing, tossed out of the only sanctuary I'd managed to carve for myself in this world.

And Celestia—Celestia, the all-seeing, all-knowing ruler of Equestria—had figured it out.

"Your Majesty," I stammer, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple, "I—I understand how this must look, but there's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Is there?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. Her serene expression betrays none of the sharp intellect that lurks behind it, dissecting me with every word.

"Yes, of course," I say quickly, forcing a weak smile. "You see, my homeland is… remote. Small. Very small. It's… not uncommon for records to, well, be lost. Entirely due to… local issues. Fires, floods, you know how it is."

Celestia raises an eyebrow. "I see. And the name of this homeland?"

I blink, my mind scrambling for an answer. "It's, uh, the—um, the Village of—of…"

Her silence stretches on, suffocating, as her gaze bores into me like a drill. "Go on."

"The—Village of Westridge!" I blurt, grasping at straws. "Yes, Westridge! Far to the west, beyond the—"

"There is no Westridge," Celestia interrupts smoothly, her voice gentle but unyielding. "I've traveled this world for centuries, and no such place exists. Try again."

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as my mind scrambles for another excuse. "Westridge is… a hidden kingdom! Yes! Shielded by ancient magic—"

"Magic that even I cannot sense?" she interrupts again, her tone still maddeningly calm. "Tell me, then, how you managed to cross the protective barrier."

I open my mouth, then close it again, the words withering under her gaze. "I—I'm afraid it's… a secret. Sworn to secrecy, you know how it is."

Her smile deepenes, almost imperceptibly. "How convenient."

Each excuse I conjure only seemes to draw her closer to the truth, her words a scalpel peeling away the flimsy facade I'd wrapped myself in. My pulse thunders in my ears, and my breathing grew shallow. I'm running out of lies—and time.

"Perhaps," she says, leaning forward slightly, "we should begin again. This time, with the truth."

I feel my eyes start to burn, the weight of everything threatening to pull me under. My mind races, searching desperately for an escape, a loophole, a way to explain the unexplainable.

"I… I don't…" My voice crackes, and I cursed myself for the weakness. My vision blurs, and before I can stop them, oversized tears spill down my cheeks. "I didn't mean—"

Celestia's expression softens, her regal composure faltering as she leans forward. "Kinetic Flux…"

"No!" I blurt, my words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "I'm not—whatever you think, I'm not— I just… I just wanted a chance!" My voice breaks again, raw and trembling. "I didn't have anything before, and when I got here, it all seemed so… so perfect."

The tears come faster now, and I can't hold them back. The weight of my fears, my lies, everything I've built crashing down on me, is too much to bear. I look away, unable to meet her gaze, ashamed of how small and helpless I feel.

Celestia's hoof moves, as though she's about to reach for me, but she hesitates. Her serene mask is gone, replaced by something almost… human. Concern. Guilt. She hadn't expected this—hadn't expected me to crumble.

"Kinetic," she says softly, her voice no longer the probing tone of a ruler, but something gentler. "I didn't mean to—"

"I swear I wasn't trying to trick anypony," I interrupt, my words coming out in a jumbled mess. "I just wanted a place where I could be… something. Where I could matter. I didn't think… I didn't think it would come to this." My voice breaks again, and I bury my face in my hooves, shaking with the weight of everything I've held in. The lies, the fears, the desperation—it all spills out in a torrent of tears and half-formed words.

Celestia is silent for a moment, the air in the carriage heavy and still. When she speaks, her voice is quieter than I've ever heard it. "Kinetic… I didn't realize…" She trails off, her words faltering as though she's unsure how to continue.

I don't look at her. I can't. Instead, I press my hooves tighter against my face, my tears soaking into the soft fur of my coat. "I thought… if I did a good enough job, if I worked hard enough… if I was good enough…" I choke on the words, my chest heaving. "I thought it would be okay. That nopony would notice. That nopony would care."

"Kinetic…" Her voice is closer now, and I feel the faintest touch of her hoof on my shoulder. It's a gentle gesture, but it makes me flinch, the shame and fear too overwhelming to bear.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the words trembling as they escape me. "I didn't mean to… to lie, or deceive, or—" My voice cracks again, and I can't finish the sentence. "I just wanted a home."

The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I feel her hoof linger for a moment before she pulls it away, the absence of it somehow even heavier.

"Kinetic Flux," she says finally, her tone softer than I've ever heard it. "I… I didn't know. I didn't understand how much you were carrying." She pauses, and I hear the faint rustle of her shifting in her seat. "You've worked so hard, haven't you? To prove yourself. To belong."

I nod weakly, unable to trust my voice.

"And you've done so much good," she continues, her voice filled with something that almost sounds like regret. "You've helped ponies. You've shown courage and ingenuity, even in the face of impossible challenges."

"I just wanted to matter," I murmur, my voice barely audible. "To be someone worth… keeping."

Celestia's breath catches, just barely, but I hear it. Her silence feels heavy. She lowers her head slightly, meeting my gaze even though I can barely bring myself to look up.

"Kinetic," she says softly, her voice trembling at the edges, "you are someone worth keeping. I see that now. I should have seen it sooner."

The tears don't stop. They fall faster, soaking my fur as I shake my head weakly. "But I'm not… I'm not even supposed to be here. I don't belong. You'll take everything—my house, my title, everything I've worked for—and I'll have nothing. I'll be nothing."

Celestia leans closer, her gentle presence filling the space between us. "No," she says firmly, the word carrying a surprising weight. "That's not true. Youdobelong. You've proven that with every step you've taken, every obstacle you've overcome. Ponyville—Equestria—needsponies like you."

I sniffle, struggling to believe her. "But the laws… the fines… the banishment…" My voice wavers, and I feel the panic clawing at my chest again. "I can't—"

Celestia's hoof touches my shoulder again, firmer this time, grounding me. Her voice is steady, though there's a faint tremor beneath the calm. "Kinetic, listen to me. None of that will happen. I won't let it. I promise you, as Princess of Equestria."

I finally look up at her, my tear-blurred vision meeting her eyes. For a moment, I expect to see judgment, or disappointment, or even pity. But instead, there's something I don't expect: regret. She looks at me as if she's the one who's done something wrong.

"I didn't mean to push you like this," she says softly. "I… I just wanted to understand you. You're so unlike anypony I've met before. Your magic, your mind, the way you approach problems—it's all so different. And…" She hesitates, her cheeks coloring faintly, a rare crack in her regal composure. "If I'm being honest, I… enjoyed matching wits with you."

My ears perk up slightly, the words catching me off guard. "You… what?"

Celestia lets out a soft sigh, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting mine again. "It's rare for me to encounter someone who challenges me, Kinetic. Not as a ruler, but as… a pony. Everypony I meet either defers to me or tries to impress me. But you… you make me think. You make me work to keep up." She chuckles lightly, though there's no mockery in it. "Do you know how long it's been since somepony did that?"

I blink, my tears slowing as her words sink in. "I… I didn't realize…"

She smiles, but it's tinged with sadness. "Of course you didn't. I never gave you a chance to. Instead, I prodded and pushed and tested you, all because I wanted to see what you would do. I thought it was harmless, just… curiosity. But I didn't stop to think how it might feel from your perspective."

Her words sink in slowly, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The warmth in her tone feels genuine, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the tight knot of fear in my chest begins to loosen. I sniffle, wiping my face with a hoof, trying to pull myself together.

"I just… didn't want to mess it all up," I admit, my voice still shaky. "I thought if I made one mistake, if you figured out I wasn't like the others… everything I've worked for would be gone."

Celestia shakes her head gently, her mane shimmering like a living aurora. "You're not like the others, Kinetic. And that's not a flaw—it's a gift. Your creativity, your perspective, your resilience… those are what make you extraordinary. Not the spells you cast or the titles you hold."

I can't quite meet her eyes, but her words do help, even if the lingering shame and doubt haven't fully left me. "But I'm not like the other unicorns," I murmur. "I can't chant spells. I can't even… I don't know Lat-er, Ancient Equestrian! I just fake it."

Celestia blinks, her serene composure cracking as genuine confusion floods her expression. "What?" she asks, her voice rising just slightly. "You don't know how to cast spells?"

I sniffle again, the weight of the admission making my ears droop further. "No," I whisper. "I don't know any of it. I can't chant spells, I don't visualize patterns. I can't… I can't do magic the way other unicorns do. Everything I've done—it's just tricks. Physics and telekinesis. That's all I have."

Her mouth opens, but no words come out at first. She looks at me as though I've just told her the sky isn't blue, her regal demeanor replaced by raw, unfiltered surprise. "Physics?" she echoes, tilting her head. "What is… physics?"

"Exactly!" I burst out, tears streaming once more as I wave my hooves in frustration. "You don't even know what it is! Nopony does! I can't explain it without giving myself away, so I just make up spell names and pretend I know what I'm doing! I thought if I kept it up, if I made it convincing enough, you wouldn't notice!" My voice cracks again, and I press my hooves to my face, sobbing.

Celestia leans back slightly, her face a mixture of confusion, realization, and something else—something softer. She starts to speak but is interrupted by the faint shift of the carriage as it lands.

The door opens, revealing the grand entrance to Canterlot Castle, its towering spires bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. At the base of the steps stands Princess Luna, her midnight coat shimmering in the twilight. A warm smile spreads across her face as she approaches, clearly eager to greet us.

"Kinetic Flux!" Luna calls, her voice filled with excitement. "Our new Archmage returns triumphant! We are proud to call thee friend!" But her jubilant tone falters the moment she sees my tear-streaked face. Her smile vanishes, replaced by a sharp frown as her gaze snaps to Celestia. "Sister.What hast thou done?"

Celestia shifts uneasily under Luna's glare, her wings twitching slightly as though she's bracing herself. "Luna, it's not—"

"Do not 'Luna' me," she snaps, her voice like thunder, cutting Celestia off. Her teal eyes narrow as she steps closer, her focus entirely on her sister. "We left him in thy care, joyful and smug as always, and now he is weeping! Explain thyself,now."

I sniffle, trying to wipe my face with my hoof as the situation spirals. "It's not her fault," I mumble, my voice weak and raw. "I just… I just—"

"Silence, Kinetic Flux," Luna says, her tone softening as she looks at me. "We shall address thee in a moment, but first, our sister must answer for this."

Celestia sighs, her usual composure faltering as she meets Luna's fiery gaze. "I didn't mean to upset him," she says, her voice quieter than usual. "I asked questions, perhaps too many. I didn't realize…" She glances at me, guilt flashing across her face. "I didn't realize how much he's been carrying."

"Thou didstinterrogatehim," Luna says sharply, her voice rising. "We see it plain as day! Thy curiosity hath overwhelmed thy sense! Dost thou not see he is fragile?"

"I didn't think he was fragile," Celestia counters, her tone tinged with frustration. "He's always so confident, so… soaloof!I thought he would enjoy a challenge."

Luna lets out a huff, her wings flaring slightly. "And yet here he stands, broken before thee! Thou hast pushed him too far, Celestia. It is unworthy of thee."

I shuffle awkwardly, feeling like a foal caught between two arguing parents. "I'm not broken," I say softly, though my trembling voice betrays me.

Luna's attention snaps to me, and the fiery intensity in her gaze melts away in an instant. Her expression softens into something maternal, almost heartbreakingly tender. She steps closer, lowering her head to my level, her starry mane flowing around me like a comforting blanket.

"Oh, thou poor thing," she says, her voice gentle and filled with emotion. "Look at thee, trembling and tear-streaked. Thou art no broken soul. Thou art merely overwhelmed by the cruelty of this moment." She turns her head slightly, casting a pointed glare at Celestia. "A cruelty inflicted unnecessarily."

"Luna…" Celestia begins, but her voice is soft, almost defeated.

Luna ignores her and focuses entirely on me, her wings spreading slightly as if shielding me from the world. "Come here, little one," she coos, her tone so gentle it catches me completely off guard. "Thou hast carried so much alone, and we did not see it. We are sorry, Kinetic Flux. Truly, deeply sorry."

I blink, my tears still falling but slower now, as Luna's warmth and sincerity seep into the cracks of my crumbling composure. "I-I'm fine," I stammer, though my voice wavers.

"Thou art not fine," Luna says firmly, though there is no harshness in her tone. "Thou dost not need to be fine. We see now that thy aloofness, thy confidence, hides a heart burdened by far too much. Come closer, and let us comfort thee properly."

Before I can protest, she wraps her wing around me, pulling me gently but firmly against her side. The gesture is surprisingly warm, her soft feathers muffling the sounds of the world around us.

I sit there, awkwardly pressed against Luna's side, her wing holding me like some sort of oversized blanket. The warmth is nice, sure, but the intensity of her attention suddenly makes me acutely aware of everypony watching. My guilt and sadness start to ebb, replaced by a growing discomfort as I realize how much of a spectacle this has become.

"Uh… I-I think I'm good now," I mumble, trying to squirm out from under her wing. "Really, I appreciate it, but—"

"Nonsense," Luna interrupts, her tone still brimming with exaggerated tenderness. She tightens her wing's hold slightly, keeping me firmly in place. "Thou art not 'good.' Thou art but a delicate flower, crushed by the weight of thy burdens. We shall hold thee until thy spirit is restored."

I glance at Celestia for help, but she's watching with an amused expression, her lips twitching like she's trying not to laugh. Great. No help from her.

"Seriously, Luna, I'm fine," I insist, my voice edging toward desperation. "I just need some space, and—"

"Space?" Luna gasps, feigning shock as she looks down at me. "Dost thou not enjoy the comforting embrace of the Night Princess? Truly, we are hurt by this rejection."

I groan, my cheeks burning. "I'm not rejecting you, I just—"

She cuts me off again, her voice turning melodramatically mournful. "Alas! We have failed in our noble duty to bring solace to this poor, weary soul. Truly, we are unfit to rule if even our embrace is unwanted."

I stop squirming, staring at her with a mix of disbelief and embarrassment. "You're messing with me," I accuse, narrowing my eyes.

Her lips curl into a sly smile, the hint of a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perhaps," she says, her tone light and teasing now. "But tell us, Kinetic Flux—dost thou feel less burdened than before?"

I pause, realizing with some annoyance that she's right. The awkwardness and absurdity of the situation have completely chased away the storm of sadness and panic I'd been drowning in moments ago. I still feel embarrassed, but the weight on my chest is gone.

"Okay, fine," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "You win. I feel better. Happy now?"

Luna's smile widens into something smug and triumphant. "Indeed, we are most pleased," she declares, puffing out her chest with exaggerated pride. "Thou art fortunate to have received the tender ministrations of the Night. Few are so blessed."

I groan, slumping against her wing. "Great. Lucky me."

Celestia finally steps forward, her expression softer now, though there's a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Luna, perhaps you should release our Archmage before he melts into the floor from embarrassment."

Luna sighs dramatically, as though letting me go is some great personal sacrifice. "Very well," she says, folding her wing back and freeing me at last. "But only because we are merciful."

I stand up, brushing myself off with a huff. "Thanks. I think."

Celestia takes a step closer, her gaze warm but serious now. "Kinetic, you've had a long day—and an even longer evening. I think it's time you got some rest."

"I'm fine," I protest, though my voice lacks conviction. In truth, I'm exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically. The events of the day have left me drained, and the thought of a bed is starting to sound pretty appealing.

"You will rest," Luna says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And while thou dost slumber, we shall discuss how best to assist thee."

I frown, a flicker of unease returning. "Discuss? What do you mean?"

Celestia places a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. "We won't do anything without your input, Kinetic. But your… unique approach to magic is something we need to understand better. For your sake, and for Equestria's."

My ears droop slightly, but I nod. "Okay. Just… don't make it a big deal, alright?"

Luna smirks, clearly unable to resist getting in one last remark. "Fear not, Kinetic Flux. Thou shalt be the subject of onlyminorintrigue and speculation. Mayhaps even a royal decree or two in thy honor."

I groan, rolling my eyes. "Thanks for the reassurance, Princess."

Luna chuckles softly, clearly satisfied, while Celestia gives her a disapproving look that barely conceals her amusement. "Enough, Luna. Let him rest."

Celestia motions to a pair of guards standing nearby, who immediately step forward. "Escort Kinetic Flux to his chambers," she instructs them, her tone gentle but firm. "Ensure he has everything he needs for the night."

The guards nod, and one of them gestures for me to follow. I glance back at the princesses, feeling an odd mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. "Goodnight, Your Majesties," I mumble, dipping my head before turning to follow the guards.

The halls of Canterlot Castle are quiet at this hour, the grand corridors bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through stained glass windows. My hooves echo softly against the polished marble floors as the guards lead me through the labyrinthine halls.

As I walk, my thoughts drift to the events of the day—and the future. The title of Archmage, the recognition, the expectations. It's overwhelming, to say the least, but one thought pushes through the noise in my mind.

A thousand bits a month.

The doubt creeps in again, and I shake my head, trying to push it aside. I can't think like that. Celestia said she wouldn't take anything away from me.

"We're here," one of the guards says, stopping in front of my room.

I step inside, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at the familiar sight. "Thanks," I mumble, turning to the guards.

The one who opened the door nods. "If you need anything, just call for us," he says before stepping back and closing the door behind him.

Alone at last, I let out a long, shaky sigh and collapse onto the bed. The weight of the day presses down on me, but the softness of the mattress helps dull the edges. My thoughts swirl as I stare up at the ceiling, exhaustion pulling at me from all sides.

Tomorrow, I think, my eyes growing heavy. I'll figure everything out tomorrow.

For now, sleep takes me.

---

The morning light filters through the tall windows of my room, casting a soft golden glow over the polished floors and plush furnishings. I wake slowly, the weight of yesterday's events still lingering in the corners of my mind. For a moment, I lie there, staring at the intricate carvings on the ceiling, letting the quiet hum of the castle fill the room.

Well, I'm still here, I think, the realization both comforting and nerve-wracking. I push myself up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before sliding out of bed. The soft rug beneath my hooves is a small luxury I still haven't quite gotten used to, but it does help ground me as I move to the washbasin to freshen up.

The routine is simple—splash water on my face, brush my mane into something resembling order, and check myself in the mirror to make sure I look presentable. My reflection stares back at me, the same as always, but there's a subtle difference in the way I hold myself.

After a final glance in the mirror, I straighten my posture and step out of my room. The castle is already bustling with activity, guards and staff moving with purpose as I make my way to the dining hall. The familiar scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries wafts through the air, guiding me toward the grand double doors.

As I push them open, I'm greeted by the sight of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna seated at the long dining table. The table is laden with an impressive array of breakfast foods—fluffy pancakes, golden waffles, fresh fruits, and steaming cups of tea and coffee.

Luna is the first to notice me, her face lighting up with a warm smile. "Ah, Kinetic Flux! Thou hast awoken. Come, join us!"

Celestia glances up from her plate, her expression much more subdued. Her usual serene demeanor is still there, but there's a distinct tension in her eyes—a lingering guilt that wasn't present the night before. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why.

"Good morning, Kinetic," Celestia says softly, offering me a small smile. "I trust you slept well?"

I nod, taking a seat at the table across from them. "Yeah. Thanks for asking."

Luna gestures grandly to the feast before us. "Eat, dear Archmage! Thou must replenish thy strength after such a trying day."

I help myself to a plate, the scent of the food making my stomach growl. As I start piling pancakes and fruit onto my plate, I can't help but notice the subtle tension between the sisters. Luna's smug satisfaction is barely concealed, her gaze occasionally flicking to Celestia with an air of triumph. Celestia, meanwhile, looks like she's been on the receiving end of a particularly stern lecture.

"So…" I say carefully, breaking the silence. "I take it you two had a… discussion last night?"

Luna chuckles, clearly pleased with herself. "Indeed we did! We made certain that our sister fully comprehended the error of her ways."

Celestia sighs, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. "Luna has made her feelings abundantly clear," she says, her tone measured but tinged with resignation. She looks at me, her expression earnest. "I truly am sorry, Kinetic. For everything. I let my curiosity and… enjoyment of our exchanges cloud my judgment. I didn't mean to cause you distress."

I nod slowly, swallowing a bite of pancake before replying. "I appreciate that. Really. I know you didn't mean to… you know, push me that far. I just—" I pause, searching for the right words. "I'm not used to ponies looking that closely at me, I guess."

Celestia gives me a small, understanding smile. "I will do better, Kinetic. I promise."

Luna, clearly satisfied with this exchange, leans back in her chair with a contented hum. "Good. Then we may proceed to the matter at hoof: thy remarkable spells."

I freeze mid-bite, the fork hovering just inches from my mouth. "My… spells?"

"Indeed," Luna says, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Thou art no ordinary mage, Kinetic Flux. Thy methods may differ from the norm, but they are no less extraordinary. We would understand them better, that we might aid thee in perfecting them."

Celestia nods, her tone gentler but equally curious. "You've achieved things that even the most seasoned mages would struggle with. If you're willing, we'd like to learn more about your… unique approach."

I glance between them, my appetite suddenly dampened by the weight of their attention. This is the moment I've been dreading—the moment where I have to explain my "magic" without revealing where it really comes from. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, setting my fork down.

"Well…" I begin hesitantly, "I guess the first thing you should know is… it's not really magic. At least, not in the way you think of it."

Luna leans forward, her interest clearly piqued. "Not magic? Pray, what dost thou mean?"

I scratch the back of my neck, trying to find the right words. "I mean… okay, so you know how unicorn magic usually works, right? Chants, visualizations—"

"And intent," Celestia adds gently, her gaze steady.

"Right. All of that," I say, nodding. "Well, I don't do any of that. I… I can't. What I use is just telekinesis, really. It's the only magic I can actually cast."

Luna tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. "Thou hast created illusions, shields, even powerful strikes. And yet, thou dost claim it is all telekinesis?"

I nod, my stomach twisting nervously. "Yeah. That's where physics comes in."

"Ah, yes, this 'physics' thou didst mention," Luna says, leaning closer. "Speak plainly, for we are most intrigued."

I let out a slow breath, my mind scrambling to condense years of knowledge into something they'll understand. "Physics is… well, it's kind of like the rules that govern the world around us. How things move, how energy works, how forces interact. It's not magic, exactly—it's… science."

Celestia's brow furrows slightly. "And how does this 'physics' help you do what you do?"

"It's…" I trail off, trying to think of a good analogy. "Okay, imagine you have a ball on an incline, you let it go and it starts rolling down the hill. The ball moves because of something called gravity—a force that pulls things downward. That's physics. Or imagine you're pushing something heavy. You're applying a force, and the object moves because of it. That's physics too."

Luna taps her hoof on the table, her gaze sharp. "We understand these concepts. They are… intuitive, though we hath not thought to name them thus. And thou usest these principles in thy spells?"

"Exactly," I say, relieved she's following so far. "When I made Radiant Glow's magic beams bend—or stop, really—I wasn't blocking them with a solid barrier. I was using telekinesis to manipulate the air in front of me, exciting it until it turned into plasma. Plasma is this superheated, ionized gas that scatters light and absorbs energy. By creating a layer of plasma, I could disrupt the beams. It's a bit like how light scatters in a fog, but way more intense."

Luna's eyes widen slightly. "Fascinating. And thy illusions? Thy air shields?"

"Well, the illusions are kind of the same thing. I use telekinesis to move tiny particles, like dust or chalk, in a way that changes how they look relative to who's watching, creates images. The shields are just compressing air or other materials into a barrier. It's… really just a lot of pushing and pulling."

Celestia looks at me, her expression a mixture of curiosity and amazement. "And where did you learn this… physics? These rules of the world?"

I stiffen slightly, my nerves spiking. "Oh, uh… here and there," I say vaguely, avoiding her gaze. "Books, mostly. A lot of trial and error. It's just… something I figured out over time."

Luna narrows her eyes, clearly catching my hesitation. "Must every word thou speakest be woven of falsehood?" she says, her voice firm but not unkind. "If thou hast such remarkable knowledge, why dost thou still cling to lies? What art thou hiding?"

I freeze, my heart racing. "I'm not hiding anything," I say quickly, though the crack in my voice betrays me. "I just… I don't like talking about it."

Luna leans forward, her gaze unwavering. "We are not blind, Kinetic Flux. Thy evasions speak louder than thy words. If thou dost trust us, as thou hast claimed, then speak plainly. From whence dost thy knowledge truly come?"

Celestia remains quiet, her calm presence adding to the weight of the moment. She doesn't press me, but her steady gaze makes it clear she's just as curious as Luna.

"I…" My throat tightens, and I glance down at my plate, suddenly feeling very small under their scrutiny. "It's not… I mean, it's complicated."

"Complicated?" Luna prompts gently. "We have time, dear Archmage. Explain as thou canst."

I take a shaky breath, my thoughts racing. I've kept this secret for so long, buried it under layers of deflection and misdirection. But now, with the two most powerful ponies in Equestria watching me, waiting for answers, I feel the walls I've built around it begin to crumble.

"You wouldn't believe me," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Try us," Celestia says gently, her tone encouraging but patient.

I swallow hard, my hooves trembling slightly as I grip the edge of the table. "I wasn't always… this. A unicorn, I mean. I wasn't even a pony."

Luna tilts her head, her curiosity deepening. "Then what were thee?"

I close my eyes, the words catching in my throat. When I finally speak, my voice is shaky but steady enough to carry the truth I've been hiding. "I was… human."

The room falls silent, the weight of my confession hanging in the air. I don't dare look at them, too afraid of what I might see—confusion, disbelief, maybe even rejection.

"A human," Luna repeats, tilting her head. Her voice carries a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. "We must confess, we are unfamiliar with this term. What is a human, Kinetic Flux?"

"A featherless biped," I reply immediately.

Celestia tilts her head, curious but silent. I shake my head, chuckling quietly. "Okay, that's a joke only I get. Humans are… different," I begin cautiously. "We walk on two legs, not four. We don't have fur, just hair on our heads and a little on our bodies. No wings, no horns, no magic. But we're… clever. We use tools and build machines to do things we can't do with our bodies."

Luna's brow furrows, her curiosity deepening. "No magic at all? How dost thy kind accomplish anything?"

"We have something else," I say, my voice steadying as I find my footing in the explanation. "We have science—knowledge of how the world works. We study it, test it, and use it to create solutions. Machines, technology, even ideas like physics—it's all about understanding and applying the rules of nature."

Celestia leans forward slightly, her expression calm but focused. "So, the knowledge you've used here—your 'physics'—comes from this… human world?"

I nod. "Yeah. It's how we survived. We didn't have wings to fly or magic to cast spells, so we figured out how to build planes to take us into the sky and machines to make life easier."

Luna's eyes widen, her curiosity deepening into something almost childlike. "Machines that allow flight without wings? Thy kind must have been remarkable indeed. These 'planes'… how dost they work?"

I hesitate, scratching the back of my neck. "Uh… well, they're complicated. They use engines that burn fuel to create thrust, and the wings are shaped in a way that lets air push them up. It's all about manipulating forces like lift, drag, and gravity."

Luna blinks, her gaze filled with awe. "Incredible. Thou hast achieved feats that rival even the greatest magical spells… without magic at all."

"It's not just me," I say quickly, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "Humans, as a species, worked together over centuries to figure all this out. I just… studied it."

Celestia tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. "Your kind's ability to collaborate and innovate is impressive, Kinetic. But tell me—how did you come to be here, in Equestria? Surely such knowledge could not have been brought by mere chance."

I shift uncomfortably, the question pulling at wounds I'd tried to bury. "I don't know," I admit, my voice quieter now. "One moment I was… there, in my world. Then I woke up here. Like this." I gesture to my body, my ears drooping slightly. "No explanation, no warning. Just… here."

Luna's expression softens, the awe in her gaze giving way to concern. "And thou hast carried this alone since thy arrival?"

I nod, my eyes fixed on the table as a familiar ache wells up in my chest. "Yeah. I didn't know who to tell or if anyone would even believe me. And what if they thought I was… dangerous? I thought it was safer to just keep it to myself and… figure things out on my own."

Luna leans closer, her gaze full of sympathy. "Thou art no danger, Kinetic Flux, save perhaps to thine own peace of mind. To be torn from thy world, thy kind, and thrust into ours with naught but thy wits… it is a burden we would not wish upon anypony."

Celestia's voice is quieter, more contemplative. "And yet, you've persevered. You've adapted, learned, and even thrived in your own way. That speaks to a strength of character few possess."

I glance up at her, surprised by the softness in her tone. "I didn't really have a choice," I say, a weak smile tugging at my lips. "It was either adapt or die."

"Still," Celestia says, "what you've done is extraordinary. Few would have the resilience to endure what you have, let alone excel."

Luna nods, her expression firm. "Indeed. Thou art most remarkable, Kinetic Flux. Thy strength, thy ingenuity—it is no wonder thou hast risen to the rank of Archmage."

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. "Archmage. Right. The 'mage' who can't even cast a single real spell. Doesn't that kind of… disqualify me?"

Celestia and Luna exchange a glance, their expressions calm but thoughtful. It's Celestia who speaks first, her tone gentle but firm. "Kinetic, being an Archmage isn't about conforming to a single standard of magic. It's about innovation, talent, and the ability to inspire others."

Luna nods, her gaze steady. "There are many types of magic, Kinetic Flux. Not all are tied to horns or spells. Magic flows in the creativity of an artist, the strength of a warrior, the wisdom of a leader. Thy understanding of this… science… is its own form of magic. A way of shaping the world."

I frown, struggling to reconcile their words with my own doubts. "But the others—the unicorns—they can all cast spells. Real spells. How can I stand among them when all I have is… telekinesis and tricks?"

"Real spells?" Luna repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Pray, what is a spell but the manipulation of the world to achieve a desired outcome? Thou dost accomplish this in ways they cannot even fathom. Thy methods are no less valid."

Celestia leans forward, her gaze earnest. "Kinetic, the title of Archmage is not given lightly. It was bestowed upon you not because of how you cast magic, but because of the results you achieve, the creativity you bring, and the way you approach problems that others see as insurmountable."

"And let us not forget," Luna adds with a sly smile, "thou didst best many a skilled unicorn during the Archmage Examination. Thy illusions, thy shields, thy ingenuity—they were not mere 'tricks.' They were feats of brilliance."

I shift uncomfortably, the weight of their praise making my stomach twist. "I just… I don't feel like I've earned it. Like I'm playing a role I don't belong in."

"Impostor thou art not," Luna says firmly, her voice carrying the authority of a thousand years. "Thy achievements speak for themselves. Thou hast earned thy place, not through deceit, but through merit."

Celestia's expression softens, her voice filled with warmth. "You are an Archmage, Kinetic Flux. Not in spite of your differences, but because of them. Your perspective, your knowledge, your ingenuity—they are what make you extraordinary. And they are what make you worthy."

For a moment, I just sit there, their words washing over me. The doubt and fear that have clung to me since the beginning begin to loosen their grip, replaced by a cautious hope.

"Do you really mean that?" I ask quietly, my voice trembling.

"We do," Celestia says simply.

Celestia's calm smile grows slightly, and she straightens in her chair, adopting a more formal tone. "And with that in mind, Kinetic, I have decided on your first formal task as Archmage."

I blink, my cautious hope immediately replaced with apprehension. "Task? Uh… what kind of task?"

Her serene gaze doesn't waver. "You are to live in Ponyville and provide assistance to the Element Bearers."

I was hoping she forgot about those.

I freeze, my mind immediately racing.The Elements.I knew this was coming. Of course, I knew. The moment I got involved with Nightmare Moon's defeat, I knew my life wouldn't stay quiet. But still, I'd hoped…

"I already live in Ponyville," I say quickly, trying to sound casual. "And I already helped them with Nightmare Moon. Isn't that enough? I mean, they're capable, right? They've got the Elements of Harmony—what more could they need?"

Celestia's gaze remains steady, her calm demeanor unreadable. "The Element Bearers are indeed capable, but they are not without challenges ahead. They will face trials that will test their unity, their resolve, and their understanding of themselves. Your insight, ingenuity, and perspective may prove invaluable."

"Insight?" I echo, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. "I don't know anything about… friendship magic. Or whatever it is they do."

Celestia tilts her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You underestimate yourself, Kinetic. Your unique perspective could be exactly what they need in moments of uncertainty."

I frown, searching for another excuse. "But I'm not good with… ponies. I'm not a social pony. I'd just get in the way."

Luna chimes in, her tone light but pointed. "Thy wit and charm would beg to differ, Kinetic Flux. Thou hast navigated the high courts of the Archmage Examination with aplomb, earning respect even from skeptics."

I wince, feeling the walls close in. "But they've already got Twilight," I blurt out, grasping for a reason—any reason—to get out of this. "She's practically a walking encyclopedia of magic. What could I possibly add?"

Celestia's expression softens, but her tone carries an undercurrent of steel. "Twilight is indeed extraordinary, but even she has her limits. There are things she will not see—things youwillsee. You've already proven that your methods can complement hers."

I open my mouth to argue further, but her next words stop me cold.

"There are events in motion, Kinetic Flux," Celestia says, her voice turning more serious. "Events tied to the Element Bearers, events that require a positive outcome. Your presence could make all the difference."

Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. I know exactly what she means, even if she's being vague.The show.I know what's coming. Discord. The Changelings. Sombra. Tirek. And worse. I know how fragile that positive outcome really is—and the idea of being pulled into it all, of being responsible for it, makes my stomach churn.

"I really don't think I'm the right pony for this," I say weakly, my voice barely audible.

Celestia's gaze sharpens, though her tone remains kind. "You may not think so, but I do. And so does Luna."

Luna nods, her expression firm but not unkind. "Thou art more capable than thou givest thyself credit for, Kinetic Flux. The Element Bearers will face many challenges, but with thy guidance, they shall prevail."

I sigh, slumping slightly in my chair. "And I don't have a choice, do I?"

Celestia's smile returns, gentle but unwavering. "You always have a choice, Kinetic. But I believe you'll make the right one."

I let out a long, defeated groan, my head thumping softly against the table. "Fine. I'll help them," I mutter. "But I'm going on record saying this is a terrible idea."

Luna chuckles, clearly amused. "Thy protests are noted, Archmage. And ignored."

I glare at her half-heartedly, but she just smirks, her amusement only growing.

"Very well," Celestia says, her voice carrying an air of finality. "I'm glad you've agreed. The Element Bearers will need your support more than they realize, Kinetic. Trust in yourself, and trust in them."

I nod reluctantly, a pit of unease still churning in my stomach. The idea of being so close to the events I know are coming terrifies me.

All I can do is pray my involvement doesn't make things worse.

 

[Riddlest]

The breakfast concludes with a final exchange of reassurances, promises, and my half-hearted attempts to wriggle out of the task again. Celestia remains serene, Luna smug and teasing as ever. It's a relief when the conversation shifts to my departure.

Celestia stands as the carriage is prepared, her expression warm and gentle. "Remember, Kinetic, you are not alone in this. If you ever need guidance, you know where to find us."

I nod, though my nerves still simmer under the surface. "Thanks…"

Luna, of course, can't let me leave without a dramatic sendoff. She steps closer, her wings spreading slightly as she regards me with exaggerated seriousness. "Take care, Kinetic Flux, and remember our words of encouragement. Should thou falter, worry not. We shall descend upon Ponyville ourselves to assist thee."

I blink, caught off guard. "Wait, are you serious?"

Her lips curl into a mischievous grin. "Indeed! We find thy company most entertaining, and thou dost amuse us greatly."

I groan, shaking my head with a weak smile. "I don't think Ponyville's ready for a royal visit from the Princess of the Night."

"Then thou dost underestimate our charm," Luna quips, puffing out her chest dramatically. "Ponyville would surely welcome us with open hooves, would they not?"

"I'm sure they would," I mutter, unable to suppress a small chuckle. "But let's try to keep things low-key, yeah?"

Luna smirks, clearly satisfied. "Very well, Archmage. We shall refrain from stealing thy spotlight—for now."

Celestia steps forward, her tone calm but carrying a playful edge. "You'll have your hooves full enough without Luna stirring things up. Besides," she adds, her gaze softening, "I'll be visiting Ponyville later today myself, though only for a casual visit with Twilight. I'm sure you'll cross paths."

My ears perk up at that. "Casual visit?"

"Indeed," Celestia says with a small smile. "I like to check on my faithful student from time to time. And now that you're her neighbor, I might check on you as well."

I laugh nervously. "Great. No pressure, then."

The royal sisters share a knowing glance before Luna speaks again, her voice brimming with mock gravity. "Go now, Kinetic Flux, and fulfill thy duties as Archmage. But remember—if thou dost falter, we are but a summons away."

I sigh, giving them a half-smile as I make my way to the simple carriage waiting outside. The pegasi guards stand at attention, their polished armor gleaming in the morning light. I climb aboard, missing the plush seats from celestia's larger carriage.

As we begin to ascend, I look back at the two princesses. Celestia offers a graceful wave, her serene smile reassuring. Luna, of course, takes a more theatrical approach, raising a hoof to her chest as if bidding farewell to a noble knight.

"Farewell, Archmage!" Luna calls dramatically, her voice echoing across the castle grounds. "May thy journey be swift, thy task fruitful, and thy wits sharp enough to rival our own!"

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "I'll do my best," I mutter under my breath.

As the carriage soars higher, Canterlot begins to shrink below me, its gleaming spires fading into the distance. Ahead lies Ponyville. And now, with the weight of this new task on my shoulders, it feels both familiar and daunting.

The carriage touches down at the outskirts of Ponyville, and my first clue that something is off is the eerie silence. Normally, the town is alive with chatter, laughter, and the occasional chaos courtesy of Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash. But now, it feels like a ghost town.

As I step off the carriage, the pegasi guards exchange uneasy glances. "Everything alright, Archmage?" one of them asks, his voice low.

I glance around, my unease growing. "I'm not sure," I admit, scanning the deserted streets. The windows of the nearby houses are shuttered, and faint movements behind curtains hint at ponies peeking out but unwilling to step outside.

"Thanks for the ride," I tell the guards, nodding to them as they prepare to leave. "You might want to take off before—"

A buzzing sound cuts through the silence, faint but growing louder. My ears swivel toward the source as a swarm of small, round creatures with wings flutters into view. They're oddly adorable, with their big eyes and colorful bodies, but the way they descend on a nearby fruit stand and devour every apple in seconds is anything but cute.

"Oh, great," I mutter. "Parasprites."

The guards gape at the scene. "What are those—?"

"Parasprites," I repeat quickly, cutting them off. I look at the buildings and carts for signs of damage, but see none. "They appear to be only interested in food for now. You might want to head back to Canterlot before that changes."

The guards nod hastily, taking off without a second thought. Their armor gleams briefly in the sunlight before they vanish into the sky, leaving me alone with the buzzing swarm.

They're everywhere—devouring grass, munching on flowerbeds, and swarming around market stalls to strip them of anything edible. A few of them notice me and flit closer, their curiosity—or hunger—piqued.

"Alright, let's get this over with," I mutter, lighting up my horn.

With a flick of telekinesis, I grab a cluster of the creatures mid-air and focus my telekinesis on the air around each of them to pop them like tiny balloons.Pop, pop, pop.The sound is almost comical, but the effect is anything but. Their bodies fall to the ground, mushy and twitching. More Parasprites approach, seemingly undeterred by their fallen companions, and I keep at it, dispatching them in groups with quick bursts of force.

The swarm is relentless, and while my method is effective, it's clear I'm barely making a dent. The Parasprites aren't even attacking me—they're just everywhere, their singular focus on consuming anything edible.

From the corners of my vision, I catch glimpses of movement behind closed curtains and shutters. Ponies are peeking out at the spectacle, their faces a mix of fear and unease as they watch me work.

"Yeah, I get it," I mutter under my breath, pausing to swat a particularly persistent Parasprite. "It's not exactly a friendship lesson, but you're welcome."

I move further into the town, popping clusters of Parasprites as I go. The creatures are so numerous that I end up brushing against them more than once, but their focus remains on food. Even with my telekinesis compressing the air and popping dozens at a time, it feels like I'm fighting a losing battle. For every group I dispatch, more seem to replace them, drawn by the chaos.

And then it hits me.Twilight.

If she's around, it's only a matter of time before she tries some kind of spell to deal with this. I know what's coming—her brilliant-but-terrible idea to make the Parasprites stop eating food, but accidentally causing them to target inorganic matter instead. The thought makes my stomach drop.

I glance at the swarm and the ponies watching from their homes. "Do I stop her?" I mutter to myself. "Or do I let it happen and… deal with the fallout?"

Stopping Twilight might keep things from spiraling into an even bigger disaster, but it would also raise questions I'm not ready to answer. Still, watching the Parasprites continue their endless consumption makes me second-guess my hesitation. It would be easier to deal with them now than to clean up the mess later.

The buzzing grows louder as I near the town square, the swarm thickening around the buildings and open spaces. Sure enough, there she is—Twilight Sparkle, standing in the middle of Ponyville, her horn glowing brightly as she prepares to cast.

"No, no, no," I mutter, breaking into a trot. "This is bad. This is very bad."

"Twilight!" I call out, raising my voice over the cacophony of buzzing wings. She glances up, her face lighting up briefly when she sees me, though her focus doesn't waver from the spell, the glowing energy gathering around her horn.

"Kinetic!" she says, her tone a mix of relief and urgency. "Great timing! I'm just about to fix this!"

"Wait!" I shout, skidding to a stop a few paces from her. "Don't cast that spell!"

Her brow furrows, and she gives me a skeptical look. "Why not? the Nibble Nullifier is fromStarswirl the Bearded's Guide to Pest Control! This spell isspecificallydesigned for infestations like this."

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "Look, I know it sounds perfect, but trust me—it won't work the way you think. It's just going to make things worse."

"Worse?" Twilight repeats, her skepticism deepening. "These Parasprites are eating everything! If I don't do something now, Ponyville won't have any food left by the end of the day!"

"I get that," I say quickly, glancing nervously at the growing swarm around us. "But changing their behavior with magic—it's risky. You don't know what kind of unintended side effects—"

"Kinetic," she interrupts, her tone firm but not unkind. "I appreciate your concern, but this isn't my first spell. Starswirl's work is meticulous, and I've double-checked everything. It's going to be fine."

Twilight doesn't wait for another word from me. Her horn flares brightly, the spell rippling out from her in a wave of shimmering purple energy. The Parasprites pause mid-flight, their wings stuttering as the magic washes over them.

For a moment, the square is silent except for the faint hum of her horn and the crackling of the spell dissipating into the air. Twilight stands tall, a triumphant gleam in her eye as she looks at the now-motionless Parasprites.

"See?" she says, her tone brimming with confidence. "Problem solved."

I don't respond. I can't, because I'm too busy bracing for what I know is about to happen.

The Parasprites twitch, their wings buzzing back to life. At first, they seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they dart around in small circles. Then, one of them lands on a nearby wooden cart. Its tiny jaws open wide, impossibly so, and with a crunch, the cart is gone.

Twilight's confident smile freezes. Her eyes widen as another Parasprite lands on a lamp post, swallowing it whole. Then another chomps through a mailbox, followed by a fence, a wagon wheel, and even part of a cobblestone pathway.

"What?" Twilight stammers, her voice cracking. "What are they—? No! They're not supposed to eatthat!"

I let out a long sigh, watching as the swarm descends on Ponyville with newfound enthusiasm. "Yeah," I say flatly. "This is what I was trying to tell you."

Twilight turns to me, panic etched across her face. "Why didn't you explain it better?!"

"I tried!" I shoot back, gesturing at the carnage as the Parasprites devour everything in sight. "You were too busy quoting Starswirl the Bearded to listen!"

Twilight opens her mouth to argue but closes it again as the sound of a roof collapsing draws both our attention. A group of Parasprites has gnawed through the support beams of a market stall, sending it toppling over. Ponies scream from the safety of their homes, their faces pressed against the windows as they watch the destruction unfold.

Twilight's panic deepens as she takes in the chaos. "This… this can't be happening! The spell was supposed to fix this! It's supposed toredirecttheir appetite, not… not make it worse!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "Alright, no point crying over spilled milk—or, in this case, eaten roofs. Let's figure out how to fix thisbeforethe whole town disappears."

Twilight nods frantically, thinking as she speaks. "Yes! Yes, you're right. I just need to find a counterspell—there has to be one—"

While Twilight panics, trying to remember, I refocus on the swarming Parasprites. With a grimace, I light up my horn and resume popping the creatures like tiny balloons. Each one dies with a faintpop, leaving only a pile of intestines and fluids behind.

As I continue, I notice some familiar figures lingering nearby in the square. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash hover on the edges of the chaos, their expressions ranging from horrified to deeply unsettled. Fluttershy hides behind her mane, Rainbow looks half-ready to dive into the fray, and Rarity… Rarity is staring at me with wide, almost insulted eyes.

"Whatareyou doing?" Rarity finally asks, her voice high and appalled. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes," I reply bluntly, popping a cluster of Parasprites that got too close to a flower cart. "Unless you'd rather let them eat the whole town."

Rarity opens her mouth, probably to deliver a lecture on my lack of decorum, but before she can say anything else, a Parasprite flits over her shoulder and straight through the open door of her boutique. She gasps, spinning around just in time to see the little creature devour a hat stand in one swift gulp.

"No! Not my boutique!" she shrieks, breaking into a gallop toward the building.

I pop another nearby Parasprite and follow her reluctantly, sighing under my breath. By the time I catch up, Rarity is pacing outside her shop, her magic snapping the door shut as more Parasprites begin to swarm toward the windows.

"Kinetic!" she cries, her voice tinged with desperation. "You must help me! They're eating everything—my fabrics, my displays, mydesigns! I simply cannot—"

"Why can'tyoudo it?" I interrupt, arching an eyebrow as I gesture toward the boutique. "You're a unicorn. You've got magic."

Rarity falters, her eyes darting between me and the parasprites gnawing at the window frame. "I… I can't," she admits quietly, her voice trembling. "I just can't bring myself to… to harm them."

I stare at her, dumbfounded. "You can't pop a Parasprite, but you want me to?"

"They're suchawfulcreatures," she says quickly, her tone defensive. "But they're so… so adorable! I simply don't have the heart."

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. "That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," she says, flipping her mane dramatically, "but it's the truth. And if you don't do something, I'll lose my entire boutique!"

I sigh, my horn flaring as I begin popping the Parasprites clustered around the building. "Fine," I mutter. "But you owe me for this."

"Oh, thank you, Kinetic!" she exclaims, batting her lashes at me in what I'm sure is supposed to be a charming manner. "You're simply wonderful."

I grimace, doing my best to ignore her as I clear out the swarm around her shop. The Parasprites pop like overinflated bubbles, their blood leaving faint splatters of bug blood on the wall. By the time I finish, the majority of her inventory is intact, and the little pests are paste on the floor.

"There," I mutter, stepping back and catching my breath. "Your boutique is safe… for now."

Rarity beams at me, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Oh, Kinetic, you're an absolute hero! Truly, I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"Probably cried," I mutter under my breath, earning a look from Rainbow Dash, who's lingering nearby with her hooves crossed.

Before Rarity can say anything else, a new buzz draws my attention. I glance over my shoulder and feel my stomach drop. The Parasprites, as relentless as ever, are now swarming toward my H.A.R.D.I.S., the small shed-like building that serves as my home.

"Oh, no, you don't!" I snap, lighting my horn again as I trot toward it. "You can eat all the fences and flowerpots you want, butthatis off-limits!"

The buzzing grows louder as I approach, and I know I need to do something drastic. Popping them in little groups isn't enough anymore. They're everywhere, pouring out of houses they've already infested and spreading across the town like a plague.

I grit my teeth, an idea forming in the back of my mind. It's a little over-the-top, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Lighting my horn, I focus on the ground beneath me, envisioning the forces at play.

Intergranular bonds. Compression. Balance.The steps come together in my mind as I manipulate the earth beneath me, carving out and compressing disks of dirt with telekinesis.

With a sharp exhale, I step onto the floating disks, adjusting their balance and lift as I rise into the air. The ground falls away beneath me, and from this vantage point, I can see the full scope of the infestation. Parasprites swarm every street, rooftop, and garden, their insatiable appetite leaving destruction in their wake.

"Alright," I mutter, steadying myself on the platform. "Let's see how you like this."

Channeling my magic, I extend my telekinesis outward in a sweeping wave, catching as many Parasprites as I can in one go. The magic tightens, compressing the air around each individual one, and then—

Pop!

The entire swarm bursts like overripe fruit, their remains splattering over the town in a fine mist of blood and… well, Parasprite guts. The buzzing dies down for a moment, replaced by an eerie silence as the ponies watching from their windows take in the scene.

I glance down at the mess and grimace. "Gross," I mutter, wiping a bit of splatter off my coat. "But effective."

The Parasprites are relentless, though. As soon as I clear one wave, more pour out of infested homes, their numbers seemingly endless. I repeat the process, lifting myself higher and popping them in large clusters, each sweep of my magic more draining than the last.

"Come on, Pinkie," I mutter under my breath, my horn starting to ache from overuse. "Anytime now…"

I know she'll come through—her one-mare band is the only thing that can lead these pests out of town for good. But until then, it's up to me to keep the damage under control. With each wave of magic, I force myself to focus, popping Parasprites and clearing the skies as best I can.

The ponies below watch in a mix of awe and horror, their faces pressed against windows and doors. I catch snippets of conversation—murmurs about the Town Mage, questions about my magic, and more than a few comments about the mess.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, popping another wave. "I'm sure you'll all thank me later."

As another wave of Parasprites explodes above the rooftops, I feel my magic start to wane. I'll keep going as long as I can, but I can only hope Pinkie arrives soon. This isn't sustainable—and Ponyville can't take much more of this chaos.

The parasprites continue their relentless swarming, pouring out of houses, munching on rooftops, and gnawing at anything they can reach. My horn pulses with strain as I keep popping them, one cluster after another, trying to keep the infestation somewhat manageable.

But it's clear I'm losing ground. For every wave I clear, more seem to appear, like some kind of never-ending nightmare.

"Where is she?" I mutter, my breath heavy as I adjust the floating disks beneath my hooves, keeping myself balanced in the air.

As if on cue, a familiar sound cuts through the buzzing—a jangling, clanging melody of cymbals, drums, and other instruments all being played at once. The Parasprites pause mid-air, their tiny wings faltering as they turn toward the source of the noise.

Pinkie Pie bounces into view, her one-mare band strapped to her in a chaotic medley of sound and motion. She hops rhythmically through the square, her ever-present grin as wide as ever as she plays her absurd collection of instruments in perfect (if nonsensical) harmony.

"There we go," I mutter, sighing in relief. "About time."

The Parasprites are transfixed. One by one, they abandon their swarming and destruction, their wide eyes locked onto Pinkie as she parades through the streets. They pour out of houses, shops, and alleyways, forming a trail behind her as she leads them away with her merry tune.

For a moment, I'm tempted—oh, so tempted—to just pop the rest of them. They'reright there, following in a line, and it would be so easy to finish the job. No more destruction, no more buzzing, no more Parasprites.

But I hesitate, my horn still glowing faintly as I hover above the square. The ponies below are watching, their eyes filled with cautious hope as they see the Parasprites following Pinkie instead of being obliterated.

"Yeah, they probably wouldn't like that," I mutter, letting my magic fade. "Not exactly a pony thing to do, is it?"

I lower myself to the ground, the disks settling as I step onto the cobblestones. The strain in my horn eases slightly, though the ache of overuse lingers. I glance around at the scattered remains of popped Parasprites and the damage already done to the town. It's a mess, but at least it's not getting any worse.

Pinkie continues her parade, leading the swarm out of sight as the last few stragglers emerge from the buildings and join the procession. The buzzing fades with each step she takes, replaced by the faint, ridiculous melody of her one-mare band.

I let out a long breath, finally relaxing as the square falls quiet. The ponies around me cautiously step out of their homes, their faces a mix of relief and lingering unease.

"Well," I say, brushing some of the splatter off my coat, "that was… something."

Twilight approaches, her mane slightly frazzled and her eyes wide with panic. She glances around at the splattered Parasprite remains, the damaged buildings, and the bits of debris strewn across the square. Her ears droop, and her lower lip trembles.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Twilight mutters, her hooves fidgeting against the cobblestones. "The princess is coming, and the town is a disaster! This is—this is terrible! She's going to think I can't handle things here, that I'm not responsible enough, that—"

"Twilight," I interrupt, waving a hoof dismissively. "Relax. She's not going to banish you over a bug infestation."

"But look at this!" she wails, gesturing to the chaos around us. "The town is covered in Parasprite guts! Half the buildings are chewed up! The princess can't see this—she just can't!"

I glance at the carnage, then back at Twilight's near-tearful expression. A part of me—the tired, annoyed part—wants to shrug it off. After all, I warned her not to use that spell. But the other part of me, the one that knows what it's like to feel the weight of the princesses' expectations, softens slightly.

"Alright," I say with a sigh. "We'll head out to intercept her before she gets here. Maybe I can… do something about this."

Twilight blinks, her panic momentarily replaced by hope. "You really have something that'll work?"

"Probably not," I admit. "But it's better than letting her walk into town and see what's happened."

We quickly gather the others—Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Applejack—and head out of Ponyville.

As we make our way toward the road to Canterlot, Twilight's anxiety only grows. "What if she's already here? What if she—"

"She won't," I cut in, lighting my horn. "Because she's not going to see anything."

With a deep breath, I reach out with my telekinesis, pulling chalk particles out of my bag and vibrating them into a panel that stretches across the view of Ponyville. The Doppler Illusion takes shape, forming a pristine, picturesque version of the town—a neat trick that works like a painted screen hiding a wrecked set, angled a bit to cover it from above as well. The strain on my already low mana reserves is more tiring than I'd like to admit.

Twilight stares at it, her eyes wide. "You… you can do that?"

"Same spell, different trick," I say, shrugging. "It'll hold up as long as she doesn't get too close."

The sound of approaching hoofbeats makes us turn. A royal carriage glides into view, Celestia seated gracefully inside. She steps down as the carriage halts, her serene smile lighting up the road.

Celestia steps down gracefully, her radiant presence instantly commanding attention. Her serene smile softens as she approaches, her gaze sweeping over our small, nervous group. Twilight and the others quickly try to look composed, but their guilty faces betray them.

"Twilight, my faithful student," Celestia greets warmly. "And Kinetic Flux. I'm glad to see you here as well."

Twilight lets out a strained laugh, her smile twitching. "H-hello, Princess! What brings you to Ponyville today?"

Celestia's eyes briefly flick to the illusion behind us before she returns her attention to Twilight. "I was hoping to have a casual visit," she says lightly, "but it seems another matter demands my attention. There's an infestation in Fillydelphia that requires my intervention."

Twilight's eyes widen, and she lets out an awkward laugh. "Fillydelphia? Oh, wow, uh… that's unexpected! I mean, who could've seen that coming?"

I glance sideways at her, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Smooth.

Before Celestia can respond, the jangling sound of Pinkie's one-mare band grows louder. We all turn to see her bouncing down the road, a trail of Parasprites following her like an adoring crowd. Pinkie waves cheerfully as she passes us, her instruments clanging and thumping in a chaotic rhythm.

Celestia watches the parade with an amused smile. "What a delightful performance," she says, her tone warm and playful. "It seems Ponyville is quite festive today."

Twilight freezes, her smile faltering. "Oh, uh, yes! Festive! That's exactly what it is. Pinkie just… loves to keep things lively around here!"

I glance at Celestia, her expression betraying no sign of skepticism. Either she's playing along, or she genuinely doesn't mind the ridiculousness of the situation. "Yeah," I add, keeping my voice light. "Just Pinkie being Pinkie. Always keeping the town… upbeat."

Celestia's gaze shifts to me, her smile taking on a curious edge. "You've been quite busy, haven't you, Archmage?"

Twilight's head snaps toward me, her jaw dropping. "Wait—Archmage?!"

I sigh, giving Celestia a sidelong glance. "Thanks for that."

"You hadn't told her?" Celestia asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Not exactly," I mutter, shifting uncomfortably. "It didn't… come up."

Twilight stares at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You're an Archmage? When did—how—what?!"

"It's a long story," I say quickly, waving a hoof. "Let's just focus on the princess's visit, okay?"

Celestia chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Unfortunately, my visit must be brief. Fillydelphia's situation is urgent, and I'll need to leave immediately."

Twilight lets out a relieved breath, clearly thankful for the reprieve. "Of course, Princess. We understand."

Celestia looks at me again, her expression calm but thoughtful. "Kinetic, I'll trust you to assist Twilight and her friends with any… unusual occurrences. It seems Ponyville has its fair share of excitement."

"Yeah," I reply, managing a weak smile. "I've noticed."

With a final nod, Celestia steps back into her carriage. As it takes off toward Fillydelphia, I let the illusion dissolve, revealing the chaotic mess of Ponyville behind it.

Twilight glances at me, her expression torn between disbelief and guilt. "Archmage," she mutters again, shaking her head. "I can't believe it."

I can't help but smirk as Twilight stares at me, her expression a mix of shock, disbelief, and utter confusion. "Well," I say my grin growing wider at the opportunity to mess with her, "you knew I was taking the test, didn't you? And tell me, Twilight—when have I ever failed at anything?"

She gawks at me, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words. "You—what—you're the sketchiest stallion alive! How did you—how is this even possible?!"

I tilt my head, giving her my best smug expression. "Oh, ye of little faith. Honestly, I'm a little offended, Twilight. You doubted me?"

"Yes!" she blurts, throwing her hooves up. "Yes, I doubted you! You're always so secretive about your spells, and you never explain how they work—"

"And you promised to stop asking about that," I interject smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight groans, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. "I did promise," she mutters, her tone begrudging. "But that was before I found out you're an Archmage! How am I supposed to not ask questions now? This is huge! Archmages are supposed to be… well, you know…"

"Regal? Mysterious? Unparalleled geniuses?" I offer, each word dripping with mock arrogance.

"Trustworthy!" she snaps, narrowing her eyes at me. "And you—you're just so—so—you!"

I chuckle, hiding the hurt and enjoying her frustration far more than I probably should. "And yet, here I am, standing before you as the newly appointed Archmage of Equestria. It's almost like I know what I'm doing."

Twilight stares at me, her jaw set, but I can see the gears turning in her head. She's trying to reconcile the stallion who pulls off bizarre, unexplainable spells with the prestigious title I now hold. It's a losing battle, and we both know it.

"You must have done something to convince the princesses," she mutters, more to herself than to me. Twilight's muttering turns into a series of quick, half-formed sentences as her mind runs wild. "Something… unusual. Something big. There's no way you just— I mean, the princesses wouldn't just—"

She suddenly stops, her eyes widening as if a light bulb has gone off in her head. She looks at me, her expression shifting from frustration to horrified realization.

"No," she whispers, taking a step back. "No way."

I raise an eyebrow at her sudden shift. "Uh… no way what?"

Twilight's pupils shrink as she points a hoof at me, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You… you seduced them! That's how you did it!"

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to respond. Then I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself. "I what?"

"You must have!" Twilight insists, her voice climbing in pitch. "It's the only explanation! You—" She stops, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You act all smug and mysterious, and you're always pulling off these incredible spells that nopony can explain. It's classic charm tactics!"

I blink, utterly baffled. "Twilight, you can't be serious."

"Oh, I am serious!" she declares, starting to pace back and forth. "Think about it: you're confident, clever, and you've got this whole enigmatic air about you. Princess Luna clearly would like your wit, and Celestia keeps giving you these opportunities to show off. You're… you're interesting! They'd totally fall for that!"

The rest of the Mane 6, who have been watching this entire exchange, stare at her with varying degrees of amusement and confusion. Rainbow Dash is biting her lip to keep from laughing, while Applejack just raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"Twilight," I say slowly, trying to keep a straight face, "I think you're giving me way too much credit."

"No, I'm not!" she says, her pacing becoming more frantic. "You're brilliant and resourceful, and you've got that whole 'mysterious rogue' thing going on! It's exactly the kind of thing that would… would…" She trails off, her cheeks flushing as her thoughts seem to spiral.

I cross my forelegs, smirking despite myself. "Wow, Twilight. I had no idea you thought so highly of me."

She freezes, her face turning bright red. "I-I don't! I mean, I do! But not like that! I—" She cuts herself off, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

"Uh-huh," I say, my tone dripping with teasing. "Sure. Anything else you'd like to add?"

Twilight looks like she's about to explode. "I—no! That's it! You—just stay away from me!"

Twilight bolts down the street, her panicked cries echoing behind her. The remaining group stares after her, stunned into silence for a moment. Then, predictably, Rainbow Dash cracks first, doubling over in laughter.

"Oh my gosh! Did you see her face?" she wheezes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "She looked like her brain was about to implode! That was amazing!"

Rarity lets out a melodic chuckle, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, darling, it seems you've made quite the impression on Twilight. And honestly, who could blame her? You do have a certain… charm."

I groan, already dreading where this is going. "Don't start, Rarity."

"Oh, but why not?" she purrs, fluttering her lashes at me. "You're clever, mysterious, and apparently irresistible. It's no wonder even the princesses couldn't resist your… allure."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to ignore the growing heat in my face. "Can we not do this right now?"

"But darling," Rarity continues, her voice dripping with playful mockery, "it's such a delightfully juicy topic. Tell me, what's your secret? Is it your dashing wit? Your rugged good looks? Or perhaps…" She leans in slightly, her smile turning sly. "Is it that air of aloofness that keeps everypony guessing?"

"Rarity," I say flatly, "I don't even like ponies like that."

The words slip out before I can stop them, and the air grows awkwardly still. Rarity's teasing smile freezes, and the rest of the group exchanges confused glances.

"What do you mean by that?" Applejack asks, tilting her head.

"Uh…" I hesitate, realizing I've just opened a very dangerous can of worms. "I mean, uh… look, ponies just… aren't my type, okay?"

Rainbow Dash snorts, clearly not letting this slide. "Not your type? What, you into griffons or something?"

"No!" I snap, my frustration bubbling over. "I just… it's not like that! I don't think ponies are… attractive. At all."

The silence that follows is deafening. Fluttershy takes a small step back, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and unease. Rarity blinks at me, her cheeks slightly pink, but she quickly schools her expression into one of forced composure.

"Well," she says after a moment, clearing her throat. "That's… quite a revelation."

Rainbow bursts out laughing again, slapping her hoof on the ground. "Oh, wow! You've been turning down Rarity's flirting this whole time because you don't even like ponies? That's hilarious!"

Rarity huffs, flipping her mane dramatically. "I'll have you know, Rainbow Dash, that Kinetic's tastes—peculiar as they may be—are none of your business."

"Oh, they're definitely my business," Rainbow shoots back, still grinning. "This explains so much! No wonder he's so weird all the time."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore them as my gaze shifts to Fluttershy, who's now half-hidden behind her mane. Her wings are slightly flared, and she looks… scared. I feel a pang of guilt, realizing that my Parasprite-popping spree must still be fresh in her mind.

Fluttershy's wide eyes glance at me, then quickly dart away. She shuffles nervously, her hooves lightly scraping against the ground as if she's trying to shrink into herself.

"Fluttershy," I say softly, taking a step toward her. "I know what I did earlier probably scared you, but… I wasn't trying to be scary. I was just… handling the problem."

Her ears twitch, but she doesn't look at me. "I-it's okay," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I know you were… trying to help."

"Right," I say, keeping my tone as gentle as I can manage. "And I'm sorry if it upset you. Really. I don't exactly love what I had to do either, but those Parasprites were out of control."

Fluttershy nods quickly, but her posture doesn't relax. She still seems uneasy, and I can't say I blame her. I sigh, stepping back to give her some space.

Rainbow Dash, of course, can't resist chiming in. "Yeah, Kinetic, you really made an impression with your whole 'Parasprite annihilation' routine. I mean, geez, you were like some kind of bug-popping machine."

"Not helping, Rainbow," I mutter, shooting her a glare.

She smirks, unfazed. "What? I'm just saying—it was impressive. Creepy, but impressive."

Applejack shakes her head, cutting in with her usual bluntness. "Alright, that's enough, y'all. Let's not pile on Kinetic. He did what he had to do, and it's not like any of us had a better idea at the time."

Rarity, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since my earlier outburst, suddenly speaks up, her tone oddly subdued. "Applejack's right," she says, her voice softer than usual. "Kinetic, you… you handled the situation with remarkable efficiency. I suppose I owe you my thanks again for saving my boutique."

I glance at her, expecting another teasing remark, but her expression is unreadable—almost guarded. "Uh, sure," I say awkwardly. "Anytime."

The moment stretches uncomfortably, and Rarity quickly flips her mane, her usual elegance returning. "Well, I suppose we should all get back to cleaning up this dreadful mess, shouldn't we?"

The others murmur in agreement, though Rainbow Dash keeps shooting me amused glances, clearly still reveling in the chaos. As the group starts to disperse, I can't help but notice Rarity stealing a glance at me before turning away, her cheeks still faintly pink.

My magic still drained, I don't even think I could pick up more than a pebble right now. And with the group scattering to clean up the remnants of the Parasprite invasion, I decide I've had enough social interaction—and teasing—for one day. The lingering tension from earlier hangs in the air, but it doesn't stop me from quietly slipping away, heading back toward the outskirts of Ponyville.

As I make my way through the streets, I can't help but notice the aftermath of the chaos. A few chunks of buildings are still missing, and the occasional chewed-up signpost or fence post stands as a reminder of the disaster. But all things considered, it's not nearly as bad as it could have been. Most of the major structures are intact, and the damage is manageable—much less catastrophic than I remember from the show.

"Small victories," I mutter to myself, stepping over a broken wagon wheel as I leave the town square behind. "At least it's fixable."

The sight of my H.A.R.D.I.S. waiting for me brings a sense of relief. But as I get closer, I notice something… off. The exterior of the little shed looks droopy—almost like it's sagging with exhaustion or sadness. The corners of the roof seem to slump, and the normally vibrant wood looks a little dull, as if it's sulking.

"Oh, come on," I groan, rolling my eyes. "I wasn't gone that long."

The H.A.R.D.I.S. creaks faintly as I approach, the sound eerily like a sigh. I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt. I know it's just a structure—or, well, a semi-sentient magical construct—but sometimes it acts almost alive, like it has feelings. And judging by its current state, it definitely thinks I abandoned it.

"I'm fine, see?" I say, patting the side of the doorframe as I push it open. "Still alive. You don't need to get all dramatic on me."

The interior is just as I left it: a cozy, impossibly large space filled with shelves of books, odd magical trinkets, and the faint hum of its arcane mechanisms. I step inside, the floating orbs growing a bit brighter, almost as if the H.A.R.D.I.S. is perking up now that I'm back.

"Yeah, yeah, I missed you too," I mutter, shaking my head as I head upstairs.

The master bedroom is quiet and dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the evening light. The bed, large and absurdly comfortable, looks more inviting than ever. I barely make it to the edge before collapsing onto the mattress, the weight of the day finally catching up to me.

"Archmage," I mumble to myself, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion washes over me. "What a joke."

---

Author's Note:

(This is how many he could, not how many he did. Approximately grapefruit size.)
1. Energy Per Parasprite:
W_per_parasprite = P * V * ln(Pf/Pi)
W_per_parasprite = 101,325 * 0.001 * ln(4)
ln(4) 1.386
W_per_parasprite = 101,325 * 0.001 * 1.386
W_per_parasprite 140.4 joules per parasprite

2. Available Energy:
1 kcal = 4,184 joules
300 kcal = 300 * 4,184
Available energy = 1,255,200 joules

3. Number of Parasprites Affected:
Number_of_parasprites = Available_energy / W_per_parasprite
Number_of_parasprites =1,255,200/ 140.4
Number_of_parasprites 8,940 parasprites

4. Parasprites Remaining:
Total_parasprites = 10,000
Unaffected_parasprites = Total_parasprites - Number_of_parasprites
Unaffected_parasprites = 10,000 - 8,940
Unaffected_parasprites = 1,060

Final Results:
- Parasprites affected: 8,940
- Parasprites remaining: 1,060

 

[liquid_oni]

One of my favorite parts of these chapters are the math at the end, I've never really been interested in it, but how you show how exactly he does most things is very interesting

 

[fmriver]

Did not expect him to just come out and SAY IT lol.

still a good reminder that his story is not going to be romance driven and stuff.


As an aside, I kept hoping he would walk back the comments he made to Celestia about Sweetie Belle, which didn't happen. Hopefully Celestia realized he was "protecting her" with those comments.

 

[TheFabulousCustodes]

I kinda figured politeness would be the key to opening the door, this is MLP after all.

Thanks for the new chapters!

 

[Natelord28]

Just binged your entire story and I have to say great stuff

 

[Riddlest]

The morning comes slowly, sunlight filtering in through the bright white windows of the H.A.R.D.I.S. As usual, the windows don't offer a view of the outside world, just their perpetual glow. It's oddly comforting—like being in a bubble disconnected from everything else.

I stretch lazily in bed, the events of the previous day feeling like a distant memory. The bed beneath me is a little too soft, but I'm too comfortable to care. Eventually, I pull myself up and shuffle downstairs, my hooves clicking softly against the wooden floors.

The kitchen is quiet, its marble countertops gleaming faintly in the morning light. I fill a glass with water from the hose-like spigot, taking a long sip before glancing around the room. The H.A.R.D.I.S. is just a house today—no signs of life or personality. It's always a little eerie when it gets like this, but I try not to think about it too much.

After finishing my water, I decide to check the mailbox. Stepping outside, the fresh air hits me, cool and crisp, a welcome contrast to the stillness inside. The mailbox, perched on a crooked wooden post at the edge of the path, looks slightly overstuffed.

As I open it, a bag of bits nearly falls out, its drawstring pouch hanging precariously from the edge. I grab it, my brow furrowing as I feel the unmistakable weight of coins. Inside the mailbox, there's also a folded piece of parchment with Applejack's familiar scrawl across the front.
Unfolding the note, I read:

---

Howdy, Kinetic,

Much obliged for sharin' them rituals ya mentioned! All that fancy stuff you told me—plantin' clover, grindin' shells, coverin' the bases of the trees—it's doin' wonders for the orchard. I ain't never seen the soil so happy!

This here 500 bits is just a little thank-you from the Apple family. We appreciate your help, even if it's a little… unorthodox.

Come on by Sweet Apple Acres sometime—maybe I'll have some cider waitin' just for you!
—Applejack

---

I stare at the parchment, reading Applejack's handwriting like it's some kind of ancient puzzle. "She… actually writes like she talks?" I mutter to myself, raising an eyebrow. "Who does that?"

Shaking my head, I toss the letter onto the counter and glance at the bag of bits. It's generous, sure, but also a reminder that keeping up my "Town Mage" persona takes constant effort. At least it pays well.

After a while, the emptiness of the H.A.R.D.I.S. feels too heavy, and my stomach growls, reminding me that there's no food in the house. "Guess it's time to venture into town," I say to no one, grabbing a pouch of bits before heading out.

The streets of Ponyville are alive with activity again, though the damage from the Parasprites is still noticeable—gnawed fences, patched rooftops, and the occasional missing signpost. As I wander toward the café, I catch snippets of conversation from the ponies around me. Most give me polite nods but keep their distance, which suits me just fine.

I settle at a small table outside the café, ordering a simple breakfast, a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and sipping on a cup of tea. It's quiet, peaceful even, until the moment it isn't.

"Yo, Kinetic!" Rainbow Dash's voice cuts through the chatter as she strolls up like we've been best friends for years. Without waiting for an invitation, she plops herself down in the seat across from me, grinning.

I blink at her, my mouth half-open to protest, but then I remember the whole "friendship" thing I'm supposed to be maintaining with the Elements of Harmony. "Uh, hey, Rainbow."

"Whatcha up to?" she asks, leaning back casually. "You looked like you were in your own little world."

"Just… having breakfast," I reply, eyeing her as she makes herself comfortable. "You know, like normal ponies do."

Rainbow snickers. "Yeah, sure. Normal ponies don't usually sit around looking all mysterious and broody, though. You're like some kind of weird loner mage from one of Twilight's adventure books."

I roll my eyes, taking another sip of tea. "Glad to know I'm such a source of entertainment for you."

"Totally," she says with a grin. "You're full of surprises. Like yesterday—what even was that? You were popping Parasprites like some kind of bug-exploding wizard. Fluttershy's still kinda freaked out, by the way."

I wince slightly but shrug. "They were eating everything. It needed to be done."

Rainbow shrugs, apparently unfazed. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, you hear about the Running of the Leaves?"

"Barely," I say, raising an eyebrow. "What about it?"

Rainbow leans back in her chair, her grin growing wider. "Me and Applejack have been competing since early this morning—y'know, to get in the zone. We're gonna race during the Running of the Leaves. Twilight's joining too, for some reason. Pinkie and Spike are doing the announcements from Twilight's hot air balloon."

"Good luck with that," I reply, smirking as I sip my tea. "Sounds like it'll be… chaotic."

Rainbow snickers. "Oh, it's gonna be awesome. Applejack's all, 'I'm the strongest pony around,' and I'm like, 'Yeah, but you can't beat me in a race.' Classic rivalry stuff."

"Classic," I echo dryly, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

She tilts her head at me, her magenta eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. "You sound totally unimpressed. What, think you're too good to race?"

"I didn't say that," I counter, setting my cup down. "I just don't see why I'd want to run around watching you and Applejack try to one-up each other all day."

Rainbow rolls her eyes, leaning forward across the table. "C'mon, Kinetic. Things are more fun when you're around. You've got that whole 'grumpy mage' vibe, but you're hilarious without even trying."

I blink at her, caught off guard. I'm not sure if she's being serious or just messing with me, but either way, it's… weirdly nice to hear.

"Well," I say after a pause, "if you're gonna flatter me like that…"

Rainbow grins triumphantly. "So you'll come?"

I sigh, shaking my head but unable to keep the small smile off my face. "Yeah, fine. I'll sign up. Just don't expect me to break any records."

Her grin widens, and she jumps up, her wings flaring with excitement. "Awesome! You better not back out, Kinetic. This is gonna be great."

As she takes off into the air, I can't help but chuckle softly. "Great," I mutter to myself, finishing the last bite of my breakfast. "Just what I needed—public humiliation in the name of 'friendship.'"

With breakfast finished and my fate for the day sealed, I make my way to the town hall. The autumn air is crisp, the streets bustling with ponies preparing for the Running of the Leaves. Colorful banners hang from lampposts, and the excitement in the air is almost contagious—not that I'd admit it.

As I step inside the town hall, the cool, polished floor echoes faintly under my hooves. The mayor's office is just ahead, the door ajar. I knock lightly before pushing it open.

Mayor Mare looks up from a stack of papers, adjusting her glasses with practiced efficiency. Her expression brightens when she sees me, though there's a mischievous glint in her eyes that puts me on edge.

"Kinetic Flux," she says warmly, "What brings you to my office? Are you finally ready to start taking clients as the Town Mage again?"

I freeze in the doorway, caught off guard. "Uh… not exactly," I say, scratching the back of my neck. "I'm actually here to sign up for the Running of the Leaves."

The mayor blinks, her smile turning quizzical. "The Running of the Leaves? You?" Her gaze briefly flicks down, her lips twitching. "Well, it's… nice to see you getting some exercise. Heaven knows, it wouldn't hurt."

I stare at her, my mouth falling open. "Excuse me?"What the fuck?

Realizing her mistake, Mayor Mare waves her hooves frantically, her face flushing. "Oh no, no, no! That's not what I meant! I didn't mean— I just—" She stumbles over her words, clearly horrified. "I mean, of course, you're perfectly… fine as you are! Just… healthy competition, right? Builds character!"

I narrow my eyes, my ears flicking back slightly. "Uh-huh. Sure."

She clears her throat, hastily shuffling some papers on her desk. "A-anyway! Let's get you signed up, shall we?"

Grumbling under my breath, I approach her desk and watch as she pulls out a clipboard. She quickly jots down my name, clearly eager to move on from her blunder.

"Here you go," she says, handing me a small numbered tag to pin on during the race. "You're all set! Good luck out there, Kinetic."

"Thanks," I reply dryly, tucking the tag into my pouch. "I'll need it."

As I turn to leave, she calls after me, her voice a little more tentative. "And, uh, for what it's worth… I think it's great that you're getting involved. Really."

I glance over my shoulder, offering her a half-hearted smile. "Sure. Thanks."

Walking out of the town hall, I can't help but shake my head. "Unbelievable," I mutter. "Ponies really know how to brighten your day."

The crisp air and lively atmosphere of Ponyville do little to soothe my grumbling thoughts as I wander through the streets. Still, it's nice to see the town coming together after the chaos of the Parasprites. Bright decorations, friendly chatter, and the occasional smell of baked goods wafting through the air make for a pretty decent backdrop to my wandering.

"Hey, is that... Kinetic!"

The cheerful, familiar voice draws my attention, and I turn just in time to see Sweetie Belle galloping toward me, her face lighting up with a wide grin. "You're back! I thought you were gone forever!"

"Gone forever?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as she skids to a stop in front of me. "I was only gone for a few days."

"It felt like forever," Sweetie says earnestly, bouncing slightly on her hooves. "I've been practicing creating spells like you taught me!"

My stomach sinks slightly. Oh, god. What 'magic' did I 'teach' her this time?

Before I can ask, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo trot up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and recognition.

"Hey, ain't you that mage Sweetie keeps talkin' about?" Apple Bloom asks, tilting her head.

"Yeah, you're that guy who didn't know what his cutie mark meant!" Scootaloo adds, squinting like she's trying to remember.

"Uh, sure," I reply, waving a hoof vaguely. "Good to see you again."

But Sweetie Belle isn't waiting for me to catch up. Her horn glows faintly, and a tiny, transparent cube of shimmering air materializes in front of her. She beams proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Look! I made this! It's a… um… well, I don't know what it is, but it's cool, right?"

I blink, leaning closer to examine the strange cube. It's small, about a cubic centimeter, and looks completely hollow. The air inside shimmers oddly, like a heatwave, but the space outside of it seems… off.

"Uh… Sweetie, what exactly is this?" I ask, my voice a mix of curiosity and unease.

Sweetie Belle grins even wider. "I just wondered what would happen if I moved all the air in one place… away from it. You said atoms are everywhere, right? So I thought, what if I just, you know, pushed them away?"

My eyes widen.Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

"Sweetie," I say slowly, stepping back slightly, "do you know what this is?"

"Not really," she says cheerfully. "But watch this!"

Before I can stop her, the cube vanishes with a loud POP, sending a sharp gust of wind outward. The sound isn't deafening, but it's loud enough to startle all of us—and to send me reeling.

"What was that?!" Scootaloo shouts, her wings flaring in surprise.

"Sweetie!" I exclaim, trying to keep my voice calm. "That wasn't just 'cool.' That was a… a vacuum! You just removed all the air from that space!"

Sweetie Belle tilts her head, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Vacuum? What's a vacuum?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to find a way to explain it in simple terms. "Okay, so… you know how air is everywhere, right? It's all around us, even if we can't see it?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, you said it's made of tiny things called atoms!"

"Right," I say, relieved she remembers that much. "Well, when you use your magic to move all the air out of one spot, like in that cube you made, it creates a space with nothing in it. That's what we call a vacuum."

Sweetie furrows her brow. "So it's like… empty space?"

"Exactly," I say. "But here's the thing: air doesn't like being pushed away like that. It always wants to rush back in and fill the empty space. And when it does…" I gesture to the spot where her cube popped. "That's what happens. A lot of force gets released all at once."

She blinks up at me, her expression turning curious. "So it's dangerous?"

"Yes," I say firmly, "It can be really dangerous. If that cube was bigger or popped near something fragile, it could've broken something—or worse, hurt somepony."

Sweetie's ears droop, and her gaze falls to the ground. "I didn't mean to… I just wanted to see what would happen."

I sigh, my frustration melting into something closer to understanding. "I know, Sweetie. And I'm not mad. You're curious, and that's not a bad thing. But you have to be careful, okay? Experimenting is great, but you've got to think about the consequences too."

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with determination. "Okay. I'll be more careful next time. I promise."

"Good," I say, giving her a small, encouraging smile. "You've got a lot of potential, Sweetie. Just… maybe stick to things that are a little less likely to explode for now."

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, who have been watching the exchange with wide eyes, finally chime in.

"That was awesome!" Scootaloo says, her wings buzzing with excitement. "Can you teach us how to make those cubes too?"

I hesitate, my initial instinct to shut that idea down immediately. "I… only really know unicorn magic," I say, trying to sound as regretful as possible while simultaneously hoping they drop the topic. "It's not exactly something you two can learn."

Apple Bloom squints at me, clearly not buying it. "But what about other types of magic? Ain't there somethin' we could do that doesn't need a horn?"

I open my mouth to argue, but then a thought strikes me. Rune magic. It's obscure enough that they'll lose interest trying to figure it out… right?

"Well," I say slowly, "there is rune magic. It doesn't require a horn, but it's a lot more complicated. You'd have to study symbols, practice drawing them, and learn how they interact with the world around them. It's not easy, and it takes years to master." I finish, pulling the information from my ass.

To my horror, their eyes light up like I've just told them the secret to eternal happiness.

"Rune magic?" Sweetie Belle says, her voice filled with awe. "That sounds amazing!"

Apple Bloom bounces on her hooves. "We could totally do that! Cutie Mark Crusaders: Rune Masters!"

Scootaloo grins. "Yeah! How hard could it be? We just need to find some books or somethin', right?"

Before I can stop them, the three fillies dart off, chattering excitedly about runes, magic, and how they're going to figure it all out. I stand there, dumbfounded, as their voices fade into the distance.

"Wait—" I start, but they're already gone. I let out a long sigh, shaking my head. "Well… it's not like it's my problem."

Sorry to their relatives.

Shrugging it off, I turn back toward the main square and make my way to the starting area for the Running of the Leaves. The preparations are well underway, with ponies bustling about, setting up banners, refreshment stands, and check-in stations. I weave through the crowd, eventually reaching the table where a cheerful volunteer is handing out numbers.

"Name?" she asks brightly.

"Kinetic Flux," I reply, and she rifles through a stack of tags before pulling one out.

"Here you go!" she says, handing me a numbered bib. "Good luck out there!"

With my number pinned to my chest, I step away from the registration table and scan the growing crowd of participants. The starting line is buzzing with energy as ponies stretch, chat, and prepare for the race. Among the crowd, a familiar trio catches my eye: Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight.

As I approach, I can hear Rainbow Dash's unmistakable voice teasing Twilight. "Seriously, Twi, you're gonna race? You? The pony who spends all her time reading? You've never even run a race before!"

Applejack, standing beside her, is doing her best to stifle a laugh, but her smirk gives her away. "Ah gotta admit, sugarcube, it's a mite funny seein' you out here. Thought racin' wasn't really your thing."

Twilight, for her part, looks both exasperated and determined. "I may not have raced before," she says, lifting her chin, "but I've read all about it. I know all the techniques, the strategies, the—"

"From books!" Rainbow cuts in, bursting out laughing. "Oh, this is gonna be good. Twilight Sparkle, racing expert… from books."

Twilight huffs, narrowing her eyes at Rainbow. "Laugh all you want, but I'll have you know that understanding the principles of running is half the battle. Proper pacing, conserving energy, optimal strides—it's all inA Mages Compendium of Physical Prowess."

Applejack lets out a chuckle. "Well, I reckon it'll be mighty interestin' to see how far a book'll get ya in a race."

Twilight opens her mouth to retort, but then she spots me approaching. Her expression shifts instantly—from confident annoyance to flustered panic. Her ears twitch, her tail flicks nervously, and she takes a small step back as if bracing herself.

"Kinetic!" she says, her voice a little too loud. "What… what are you doing here?"

I raise an eyebrow, mildly amused by her reaction. "Uh, I'm signed up for the race. Same as you."

She narrows her eyes slightly, as if trying to read my intentions. "Really? You're not here for… anything else?"

I stare at her, deadpan. "Twilight, it's a race. What else would I be here for?"

Her face flushes red, and she glances away, fumbling for a response. "I-I don't know! Maybe you had some… ulterior motive. You always have something up your sleeve!"

Applejack smirks, nudging Twilight with her hoof. "Aw, c'mon, Twi. Let the stallion run. Don't need ta overthink it."

Rainbow snickers. "Yeah, Twilight. Maybe Kinetic's just here to enjoy himself. You know, like the rest of us."

Twilight mumbles something incoherent, clearly flustered, and I decide to let her off the hook—for now. The last thing I need is her going on another wild tangent about me "seducing" ponies.

The starting bell rings, snapping everyone to attention. The gathered ponies line up, stretching and getting into position. I take my place next to Twilight, who still won't meet my gaze, and glance to the side to see Applejack and Rainbow Dash already in their usual competitive stances.

The announcer, Pinkie Pie's unmistakable voice, rings out from above as the hot air balloon drifts overhead. "Welcome, everypony, to the Running of the Leaves! Are you ready to shake those branches and bring the autumn season to life?"

The crowd cheers, the energy palpable. I swallow hard, realizing just how out of place I am among these enthusiastic athletes. Sure, I've got magic and some clever tricks, but running? Not exactly my forte.

Pinkie counts down with exaggerated flair. "Three… two… one… Go!"

The crowd surges forward, hooves pounding the dirt as the race begins. Applejack and Rainbow Dash take off like rockets, their competitive spirits already in full swing. Within seconds, they're a blur of orange and cyan, leaving the rest of us in their dust.

I, meanwhile, start at a much more… measured pace. By which I mean, slow. My legs already feel like lead, and the first few steps send an alarming reminder of just how out of shape I am. Still, I manage to keep my expression calm, hoping to at least look like I've got this under control.

Twilight jogs beside me, her gaze focused straight ahead as if she's trying very hard not to acknowledge my presence. Her ears flick nervously, and every time I glance at her, she quickly looks away.

"You okay there, Sparkle?" I ask, more to distract myself from my own misery than anything else.

"I'm fine!" she says quickly, her tone a little too high-pitched to be convincing. "I'm just… concentrating."

"Right," I reply, smirking. "You're concentrating so hard you can't even look at me?"

Her pace falters for a split second before she regains her rhythm. "I'm just… trying to focus on the race. That's all!"

"Am I allowed to, you know, talk? Or is that going to ruin your concentration?" I ask innocently, though my tone suggests otherwise.

Twilight groans, her annoyance bubbling to the surface. "Listen, Kinetic, this is a public event. I need you to be on your best behavior."

I feign surprise, pressing a hoof to my chest. "Me? Twilight, when have I ever caused trouble?"

She gives me a deadpan look. "Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?"

"Okay, fair," I admit, chuckling. "But seriously, I'll behave."

Twilight narrows her eyes, clearly not convinced. "No tricks, no weird comments, and no… no trying to seduce anypony!" Her voice spikes, and her cheeks turn pink as she realizes how loud she's gotten.

I blink at her, caught off guard by the accusation. "Seduce? Twilight, when have I ever—"

"You seduced the princesses!" she hisses, her voice a mix of panic and frustration.

"I did not seduce the princesses!" I protest, though a grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. "But for argument's sake… what if I did?"

Twilight glares at me, flustered beyond words. "Just… just promise me you won't do anything weird, okay?"

I pause, giving her a mock-serious nod. "I promise…" I begin, before adding with a sly grin, "…d other ponies that I'd be on my worst behavior. And I gave them my word, so…"

Twilight gasps, her eyes wide with indignation. "Don't make me disbar you as an Archmage!"

I arch an eyebrow, genuinely amused. "You can't do that. You're just Celestia's student. You don't have disbaring authority."

Her jaw tightens, and she straightens her posture. "Then I'll pre-disbar you."

I scoff, stepping slightly closer. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch this," she retorts, pointing a hoof at me. "You're pre-disbarred."

I stare at her, stunned but trying not to laugh. "You can't just make things up, Twilight!"

"Oh, yes, I can!" she snaps, her face red with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "And when I figure out how you seduced the princesses, I'm going to tell everypony and you'll be full disbarred."

I smirk, leaning in just slightly. "Ifyou figure it out... And if you haven't fallen in love with me by then."

Twilight's face goes from red to crimson in an instant, her horn sparking slightly as if she's fighting the urge to zap me right there. "You're insufferable!" she shouts, her voice cracking with frustration. "You're the most aggravating pony I've ever met!"

I shrug, letting the smirk linger on my face. "I aim to please."

She lets out a high-pitched groan and gallops ahead, shouting over her shoulder, "You're pre-disbarred forever!"

The other racers give her a wide berth as she barrels past them, leaving a trail of confusion and awkward silence in her wake. I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head. "She's going to pop a vein one of these days."

But my amusement is short-lived. The race is still on, and I'm barely keeping up as it is. My legs feel like lead weights, every step an effort that sends a reminder of how woefully out of shape I am.

The vibrant autumn trees blur together as I huff and puff, trying to keep a calm facade despite the burning in my lungs. Ponies trot past me in small groups, some casting amused glances my way. I grit my teeth, determined not to let them see just how much I'm struggling.

"You've got this," I mutter under my breath, though even I don't believe it. "Just… one hoof in front of the other. Easy."

Another pony zips by, giving me a cheerful "Good luck!" as they disappear ahead. I glare after them, wishing I could summon some energy to glare harder.

By the time I reach the first incline, my calm facade is cracking. Sweat drips down my face, my mane sticking awkwardly to my neck. My breathing is loud and ragged, and my hooves feel like they're trudging through molasses.

"Who… invented this… torture?" I wheeze, stumbling slightly as I reach the top of the hill. My legs scream in protest, and for a moment, I consider just lying down in the grass and letting the rest of the race pass me by.

But then, up ahead, I spot Twilight and Applejack. They're not running anymore; in fact, Applejack's sitting in the dirt, scowling and brushing herself off while Twilight hovers nearby, clearly unsure what to do. For a moment, I think about stopping to catch my breath, but the scheming voice in my head screams,Don't let them see you struggling!

I muster what little energy I have left and push forward, my hooves dragging through the dirt as I catch up to them.

"Applejack?" I wheeze, trying to sound casual despite feeling like my lungs are on fire. "What… what happened?"

Applejack turns her head sharply, her green eyes blazing. "Rainbow Dash happened! That no-good showboat tripped me, Ah know it!"

Twilight tilts her head, frowning. "Applejack, are you sure? I didn't see Rainbow anywhere near you."

"Course I'm sure!" Applejack snaps, before her gaze shifts downward. Her ears flick, and she narrows her eyes at a large, jagged rock half-buried in the trail. "Oh. Nevermind. Reckon it might've been that."

I let out a small, breathless laugh, wiping sweat from my brow. "So… the dastardly rock gets the blame this time?"

Applejack shoots me a withering glare but softens almost immediately, probably noticing how pathetic I look. "Don't you go gettin' cocky, Kinetic. Ain't like yer in better shape than me."

I manage a shaky grin, my legs wobbling beneath me like they're made of jelly. "Oh, I'm in great shape," I wheeze, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I'm just… savoring the moment."

Applejack raises an eyebrow but doesn't press it. She adjusts her hat, her expression already shifting back to determination. "Well, don't get too comfy, sugarcube. This race ain't gonna finish itself."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I reply, leaning slightly against a tree as subtly as I can manage. My lungs scream for mercy, and every muscle in my body feels like it's staging a full-scale rebellion. But I keep my breathing as steady as possible, because if there's one thing I can't let happen, it's them figuring out how much I'm dying inside.

Twilight, meanwhile, looks at me suspiciously, but thankfully doesn't comment. "Come on," she says, motioning for Applejack to follow. "We should keep moving."

Applejack nods, and the two of them start jogging ahead, their pace quickly picking up. I force myself to straighten, plastering on a calm expression as I shuffle forward. Once they're a safe distance ahead, I let out a strangled groan under my breath.

"Why… why did I sign up for this?" I mutter, trying not to trip over my own hooves as I push myself to run again. "This is not worth the friendship points. Or the bragging rights. Or… anything."

The sound of pounding hooves fills the air as more ponies pass me by, their cheerful chatter only making me feel worse. I keep going, though, focusing on the rhythmic sound of my own steps, the crunch of leaves beneath my hooves, and the distant sight of Twilight and Applejack ahead.

For a brief, fleeting moment, I think I might be able to catch up to them again. Then reality sets in as my legs start to tremble and my breaths come in ragged gasps.

Keep it together,I tell myself, pushing forward despite every fiber of my being screaming to stop.You've got a reputation to maintain. Even if you're dying, you can't let them see it.

The scenery blurs as I focus on the trail ahead, my mind a haze of exhaustion and determination. Twilight and Applejack are still within sight, but the gap between us is widening with every step. I grit my teeth, forcing myself onward even as my pace slows to an unsteady trot.

"Just… keep… going," I whisper to myself, the words barely audible over the sound of my labored breathing. "You've got this. Probably."

The rest of the race is a blur of agony and self-loathing. My legs are noodles, my lungs are on fire, and every step feels like wading through molasses. Worse, I don't see another pony for what feels like hours. It's just me, the trail, and the occasional mocking sound of rustling leaves.

By the time I reach the final stretch, the finish line is a distant, shimmering mirage. My hooves scrape against the dirt as I trudge forward, my pride long since obliterated. The cheers of the crowd grow louder, though they're clearly not for me—they're probably for the winners who've already crossed the line, celebrated, and moved on with their lives.

As I stumble into the clearing, the sight that greets me is both humiliating and oddly comforting. Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and the others are all gathered near the finish line, laughing and chatting as if they've been waiting for hours. The instant they spot me, their faces light up—not with encouragement, but with barely-contained amusement.

"There he is!" Rainbow Dash hollers, nudging Applejack with a grin. "Told you he'd finish eventually."

Applejack tips her hat back, smirking. "Took ya long enough, sugarcube. Thought maybe you got lost out there."

Twilight covers her mouth, but the twinkle in her eye betrays her attempt to look sympathetic. "You, uh… you okay there, Kinetic?"

I can't answer. Words are impossible when you're wheezing so hard it feels like your lungs might collapse. Instead, I collapse onto the grass just past the finish line, sprawling out in a dramatic heap as the last of my energy drains away.

"Wow," Rainbow says, peering down at me with a grin. "You look like you just fought a manticore. And lost."

I glare at her—or at least, I think I do. It's hard to say when my vision is spinning. "I'm… fine," I rasp, though my voice is barely audible over my ragged breathing.

Rarity steps forward, her expression equal parts amused and horrified. "Darling, you're absolutely drenched in sweat. You look positively… dreadful."

"Thanks," I croak. "Appreciate… the support."

Fluttershy hovers nearby, looking concerned. "Um… do you need water? Or a doctor?"

"I need… dignity," I manage, though it comes out as more of a wheeze. "Too late… for that."

Pinkie Pie bounces over, giggling uncontrollably. "You did it, Kinetic! You finished the race! Last place, but hey, at least you didn't give up! That's gotta count for something, right?"

"Yeah," I mutter, letting my head fall back against the grass. "I'm a real inspiration."

The sound of elegant hoofsteps draws closer, and I squint through my exhaustion to see Princess Celestia approaching, her serene smile tinged with unmistakable amusement. Of course, she's here. Because my life isn't humiliating enough already.

"Well, well," she says, her voice as warm and teasing as the sun above. "If it isn't my Archmage, crossing the finish line with all the grace and vigor of a collapsing tower."

The girls burst into laughter, and even Twilight, who had been doing her best to stay composed, lets out a snort before quickly clapping a hoof over her mouth.

I groan, flopping onto my side like a particularly useless potato. "Good to see you too, Princess. Came all this way just to rub it in?"

Celestia chuckles softly, her golden shoes glinting in the sunlight as she steps closer. "Not at all. I'm here to celebrate the Running of the Leaves, and I must say, your performance was… unforgettable."

"Unforgettable, huh?" I mutter, still wheezing. "Pretty sure my lungs will remember it at least."

Celestia's smile widens, and she tilts her head in mock thoughtfulness. "I suppose I should commend you for your determination. It takes a special kind of bravery to run a race knowing full well you'll finish last."

"Thanks for the pep talk," I say flatly, though the corner of my mouth twitches in what might be a smile. "Really motivating."

"Motivation is important," she replies, her tone light but teasing. "Though perhaps next time, a bit of preparation wouldn't hurt. After all, an Archmage should lead by example."

Rainbow Dash cackles, nudging Applejack. "Hear that, Kinetic? You gotta step it up. Can't have Ponyville's Archmage being the slowest pony in town."

Applejack smirks. "Might even have to train with us next year. Maybe we'll whip ya into shape."

"Oh, I can't wait," I deadpan, dragging myself into a sitting position. My legs are jelly, and I'm sure I look as miserable as I feel, but I manage to muster a tired grin. "I'll start… never."

The laughter eventually dies down as the rest of the racers and spectators mill about, dispersing to enjoy the post-race festivities. Celestia, ever the picture of grace, bids the group farewell with a warm smile and a few parting words of encouragement before stepping into her chariot and ascending into the sky.

As the sound of Celestia's departure fades, the Mane 6 gather around me, still grinning at my expense. "Well, sugarcube," Applejack says, adjusting her hat, "ya did finish the race, so I reckon that counts for somethin'."

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash chimes in, her grin stretching wider. "Counts for 'last place.' But hey, at least you didn't pass out. That's gotta be, like, a win for you, right?"

I roll my eyes, too tired to muster a proper comeback. "Glad I could provide everyone with some quality entertainment."

Twilight adjusts her mane, a small, awkward smile tugging at her lips. "You were, uh… determined, at least. That's… admirable?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm talented, I know," I mutter, forcing myself to stand on shaky legs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find somewhere to collapse in peace."

Pinkie Pie bounces into my field of vision, her usual energy undeterred by the long day. "Or you could come eat with us! There's a new diner in town, and I heard they have the best hayburgers ever. And milkshakes! Ooh, and pie! You like pie, right?"

"Pie?" I echo, raising an eyebrow. "Is that your sales pitch?"

"Did it work?" she asks, tilting her head with a mischievous grin.

I sigh, realizing I don't have the energy to argue. "Fine. Food does sound good."

"Great!" Pinkie cheers, hopping in place. "Let's go! My treat for the last-place champ!"

"Generous," I deadpan, but I let her pull me along as the group heads into town.

Author's Note:

Sweeties vacume:
Energy to create the vacuum:
W = P * V * ln(P1 / P2)

P1 = 101300 Pa (atmospheric pressure)
P2 = 0.0001 Pa (near perfect vacuum)
V = 1 cm = 1 10(-6) m

ln(P1 / P2) = ln(101300 / 0.0001) = ln(1.013 109) 20.73
W = P * V * ln(P1 / P2)
W = 101300 * (1 10(-6)) * 20.73
W 2.1 joules

Force from vacuum collapse:
F = P * A

Volume: V = 1 cm
Assume a cubic shape: L = (V)(1/3) = (1 10(-6))(1/3) 0.01 m
Area of one face: A = L = (0.01) = 1 10(-4) m
F = P * A = 101300 * (1 10(-4))
F 10.13 N

Results:
- Energy to create a vacuum (1 cm): ~2.1 joules
- Force exerted during collapse: ~10.13 N

(This is the max volume sweetie could make, not what she did make.)
Sweeties Energy =25 Kcal
Energy to create the vacuum:
W = P * V * ln(P1 / P2)
P1 = 101300 Pa (atmospheric pressure)
P2 = 0.0001 Pa (near perfect vacuum)
W = 25 kcal * 4184 J/kcal = 104600 J

Rearranging for volume:
V = W / (P1 * ln(P1 / P2))
ln(P1 / P2) = ln(101300 / 0.0001) = ln(1.013 * 109) 20.73
V = 104600 / (101300 * 20.73)
V 0.0498 m (49.8 liters)

Force from vacuum collapse:
F = P * A

Volume of vacuum: V = 0.0498 m
Assume a cubic shape: L = (V)(1/3) = (0.0498)(1/3) 0.37 m
Area of one face: A = L = (0.37) 0.137 m
F = P * A = 101300 * 0.137 13871 N

Force of a punch:
Average punch force: F_punch 700 N
Comparison:
Vacuum force / punch force = 13871 / 700 19.8

 

[Riddlest]

The diner is just as Pinkie promised—cozy and bustling with energy. Ponies fill the booths and tables, laughing and chatting as plates of food are carried out by cheerful servers. The smell of sizzling hay patties, fries, and baked desserts fills the air, making my stomach growl again.

We settle into a large corner booth, the girls chatting animatedly as menus are passed around. I scan the options, the words blurring together as exhaustion catches up to me. Pinkie leans over, pointing enthusiastically at an item on the menu.

"You have to try the hayburger!" she exclaims. "It's sooooo good!"

"I'll take your word for it," I say dryly, but when the server comes by, I order one anyway. When in Ponyville, I guess.

It doesn't take long for the food to arrive. The others dig in eagerly, their enthusiasm infectious as they bite into their hayburgers, munch on fries, and sip milkshakes. My hayburger sits in front of me, looking innocent enough—a perfectly grilled patty nestled between a fluffy bun, with all the fixings.

I pick it up, taking a cautious bite.

It tastes like… hay.

Just hay. Dry, grassy, and unmistakably hay.

I chew slowly, doing my best to keep a neutral expression as the others watch me expectantly. Pinkie beams, leaning forward. "Well? Isn't it amazing?"

"Uh… sure," I say, swallowing with difficulty. "It's… something."

Rainbow Dash snorts, clearly seeing through my act. "Don't tell me you're not a hayburger fan. This stuff's the best."

"Totally," Applejack agrees, taking another big bite. "Ain't nothin' like a good hayburger after a hard day's work."

I glance around the table, baffled by how genuinely delighted they all seem. "It's… definitely unique," I say carefully, setting the burger down.

Rarity dabs her mouth with a napkin, her expression amused. "Darling, you look as though you've just eaten something dreadful. Perhaps hayburgers aren't quite to your taste?"

Fluttershy tilts her head, her voice soft. "Do… do you not eat hay?"

"Oh, I do," I say quickly, not wanting to explain that my palate doesn't exactly align with theirs. "I just, uh, prefer it… plain."

Pinkie gasps, looking horrified. "No ketchup? No mustard? No pickles? That's a hayburger crime!"

I chuckle weakly, pushing the burger to the side. "Guess I'm a hayburger criminal, then."

Twilight narrows her eyes at me, her analytical brain clearly latching onto something. "Wait a minute," she says, her tone suspicious. "You're not just being picky, are you? How long has it been since you last ate hay?"

"Uh…" I hesitate, trying to think of a reasonable answer. "Not that long."

Her expression sharpens. "Define 'not that long.'"

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "I don't know. A couple of weeks?"

The table goes silent, all eyes on me. Twilight looks genuinely alarmed, while Rainbow Dash bursts out laughing.

"A couple ofweeks?" Twilight exclaims, her voice tinged with horror. "Kinetic, do you have any idea what happens to ponies who don't eat enough hay?"

I shrug, trying to brush it off. "I'm fine. It's not like I'm starving."

Twilight leans forward, her brow furrowed in concern. "You might feel fine now, but skipping hay for that long can cause serious problems. You need the fiber, the nutrients—it's essential for our digestive systems! Without it, you could experience lethargy, stomach cramps, or even nutrient deficiencies. Have you been feeling… off?"

I open my mouth to deny it but hesitate. Ihavebeen more tired than usual, and my stomach hasn't exactly been thrilled with me lately. But there's no way I'm admitting that in front of this group.

"I'm fine," I insist, waving her off. "Really."

Twilight doesn't look convinced. "You don't look fine. Actually…" She narrows her eyes, scrutinizing me like a specimen under a microscope. "You're paler than usual, and you were wheezing pretty hard after the race."

"That's because I'm out of shape," I counter, crossing my forelegs. "Not because of hay."

"That's part of it," she agrees, "but two weeks without hay? That's… Kinetic, you're going to make yourself sick!"

Applejack nods, her expression more sympathetic. "She's got a point, sugarcube. Hay ain't just a snack—it's somethin' our bodies need. Ain't good ta go skippin' it fer that long."

Rarity tilts her head, her gaze appraising. "Youdolook a bit… peaked, darling. Perhaps Twilight's right. A proper diet is crucial, even for an Archmage."

"Especially for an Archmage," Twilight adds pointedly, her tone firm. "You have responsibilities! You can't neglect your health!"

I groan, slumping in my seat. "Alright, fine. You win. I'll eat hay later. Happy?"

Twilight gives me a skeptical look. "Promise?"

"Sure," I mutter, hoping she'll drop the subject.

Pinkie grins, sliding my hayburger back toward me. "How about now? There's plenty of hay right here!"

I glance at the burger and sigh, realizing there's no escaping this. Reluctantly, I pick it up again and take another bite. The taste is exactly as I remember—dry, grassy, and entirely unappealing. I chew slowly, my face scrunching up in distaste.

My expression must give me away because Rainbow Dash immediately starts snickering.

"Wow," she says, smirking. "You look like you're eating a pile of dirt. What's your deal?"

I swallow with some difficulty, grimacing slightly. "Fine," I mutter. "I'll admit it. I… don't like the taste of hay."

The reaction is immediate and dramatic. Everypony at the table gasps in unison, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief, as if I'd just confessed to a heinous crime.

"You… don't like hay?" Twilight repeats, her voice laced with incredulity.

Rainbow Dash slams the table in disbelief. "Whoa, hold on. Did I hear that right? The Archmage of Ponyville doesn't like hay? That's like saying you don't like happiness!"

Pinkie's jaw drops so far, I'm half-worried it might unhinge. "But hay is amazing! It's, like, the most versatile food ever! You can have hay fries, hay smoothies, haycakes… How can you not like hay?!"

Rarity clutches her chest dramatically, looking as though she might faint. "Darling, surely you're joking. Everypony loves hay! It's practically a cultural staple!"

"Not this pony," I mutter, pushing the hayburger away. "It's just… not my thing, okay?"

Applejack looks at me like I've just sprouted a second head. "But sugarcube, hay's about as natural as breathin'. What do ya even eat if ya don't like hay?"

"Literally anything else," I reply, deadpan. "Fruits, vegetables, bread… You know, normal food."

Fluttershy peeks out from behind her mane, looking like she wants to protest, but is unwilling to speak.

Twilight, ever the problem solver, suddenly perks up. "This is serious! If you're not eating hay, you could be missing out on key nutrients! No wonder you're so tired all the time. We need to fix this."

I groan, leaning back in my seat. "It's not a big deal, Twilight. I'm fine."

"Clearly, you're not," she insists, pulling out a notebook from seemingly nowhere. "Don't worry, Kinetic. I'll make a meal plan that incorporates hay in ways you'll actually enjoy. We'll fix this."

I stare at her, horrified. "Twilight, no."

"Twilight,yes," she counters, her quill already scribbling furiously.

I watch, completely helpless, as Twilight furiously jots down notes like she's planning an international summit instead of figuring out how to force-feed me grass.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter, rubbing my temples. "I don't need a meal plan."

Twilight doesn't even look up. "Yes, you do."

"I'm not some malnourished foal."

"You might be," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. "Two weeks without hay? You're lucky you haven't collapsed."

I throw my hooves up in exasperation. "I just ran an entire race!"

"And you nearly died doing it," Rainbow Dash quips, smirking. "Like, seriously, I thought we were gonna have to drag you across the finish line."

Applejack chuckles, tipping her hat back. "Sugarcube, ya looked like ya were 'bout to keel over. If that ain't a sign you need to start eatin' proper, I don't know what is."

Rarity gives me a sympathetic but firm look. "Kinetic, darling, I understand having preferences, but refusing to eat hay is simply uncivilized."

I scoff. "Uncivilized? Rarity, I havetaste. That's not the same thing."

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, yes, because I'm sure a hayburger is simply beyond your delicate palate."

Pinkie suddenly gasps, her hooves slamming down on the table. "Oh! What if we just…hidethe hay in stuff? Like how you sneak veggies into foals food when they don't wanna eat them?"

"I'm not a foal," I groan. "You're not gonna trick me into eating hay."

"Oh, wesowill," Twilight says, her quill still scratching across the page.

I glare at her. "Twilight, I swear to Celestia—"

Twilight snaps her notebook shut with a loud thwap, her determined expression making my stomach sink. "You know what? This is pointless if I don't even know what you're eating in the first place. We're going to your house."

I freeze, staring at her in disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me," she says, her horn lighting up as she tucks her notebook into her saddlebags. "We're going to your house so I can see for myself what you're eating—or not eating."

Rainbow Dash snorts, leaning back in her chair. "Wait, hold up. He lives in that little shed by the edge of town, right? What's there to check? Pretty sure all he's got in there is dust and a bed."

I groan inwardly, rubbing my temples. "It's not a shed."

Rainbow raises an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, it is. I've seen it."

I sigh, knowing this conversation is about to get a lot more complicated. "It looks like a shed," I admit reluctantly, "but it's not."

Rainbow blinks, clearly not following. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's enchanted," Twilight says matter-of-factly, her tone suggesting this is old news. "The inside is bigger than the outside. Much bigger."

Rainbow's eyes widen, her wings twitching with interest. "Wait, seriously? Like… how big?"

I hesitate, not wanting to open this particular can of worms. "Big enough."

"That's not an answer," Rainbow presses, grinning now. "Come on, Kinetic, how big are we talking? Like, mansion big? Castle big?"

"It's… complicated," I mutter, avoiding her gaze.

Twilight narrows her eyes at me. "How complicated?"

I glance between the two of them, then at Rarity, who's watching with thinly veiled curiosity. "Look, it doesn't matter how big it is. It's my house, and that's all you need to know."

Rainbow leans forward, her grin turning mischievous. "You're hiding something. I can tell."

"I'm not hiding anything," I say, though the defensive edge in my voice probably isn't helping my case.

Twilight sighs, clearly exasperated. "Let's just go. You're wasting time arguing when we could already be there."

The other ponies glance at each other, clearly debating whether to join in on this impromptu house visit.

Applejack adjusts her hat, a hint of regret in her voice. "Much as Ah'd love ta see what kinda magic tricks you've got goin' on, Ah gotta head back to Sweet Apple Acres. Got a heap of chores waitin' on me."

Pinkie Pie bounces in place, her usual energy on full display. "Oh, oh! I'd totally come, but I've got cupcakes in the oven! And cookies! And a cake! If I don't watch them, they might try to escape!"

Fluttershy takes a small step back, her eyes darting nervously to me. "I, um… I need to check on my animals. Make sure they're okay after… everything." Her voice trails off, and she glances away.

Rarity tilts her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Well, I don't have any pressing engagements, and I must admit I'm intrigued. I simply have to see this so-called 'enchanted house.'"

Rainbow Dash flaps her wings, hovering slightly above the ground with a smirk. "Yeah, no way I'm missing this. I've gotta see how a guy like you pulls off something this cool."

Twilight, ever the pragmatist, adjusts her saddlebags. "I was going there anyway, so let's not waste any more time."

With that, the group splits up. Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Applejack head off in different directions, each calling out their goodbyes.

"See y'all later!" Applejack says with a wave.

"Bye! Save me some snacks if you find any!" Pinkie chirps.

Fluttershy gives a small, nervous nod. "Um… bye…"

I sigh, turning toward the path that leads to the H.A.R.D.I.S. "Alright, let's get this over with."

The walk is relatively quiet, save for Rainbow Dash asking increasingly ridiculous questions about the size of my house.

"Is it, like, ten rooms big? Twenty? Do you have a pool? Oh, what about a secret treasure room?"

I don't answer, my frustration building as we approach the unassuming structure. Finally, we arrive, and Rainbow stares at it in disbelief.

"This is it?" she asks, hovering closer to inspect it. "It looks even smaller up close."

I unlock the door, pushing it open with a sigh. "Just go in."

Rarity steps in first, her hoofsteps echoing faintly as she enters the vast interior. Her jaw drops as she takes in the sight: floating orbs of light casting a warm glow over a massive living room, complete with plush furniture and elegant decor. A staircase leads to the second floor, where a master bedroom and four guest rooms await.

Rainbow Dash steps in next, her eyes going wide. "Whoa! This is insane! It's, like, ten sheds big! No, twenty!"

Twilight follows, her expression shifting from mild interest to outright shock. "Wait… I thought it was just a modest expansion spell. This is… how far does it go?"

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my forelegs. "Depends on how curious you are."

Rarity finally finds her voice, her tone a mix of amazement and disbelief. "Darling, this isn't a house. This is a palace!"

Rainbow zips toward one of the endless hallways, her wings buzzing with excitement. "What's behind all these doors? Do you even know?"

Twilight glares at me, her notebook already floating beside her. "This is highly advanced spatial manipulation. How is this not documented anywhere? Where did you even learn to do this?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes as I close the door behind them. "I already told you, it was like this when I got it."

Twilight's gaze sharpens. "How can you not be curious about how it works?"

"I'm a little curious," I admit with a shrug, "but not enough to risk messing with it. Probably some ancient enchantment from a mage way more powerful than me."

Rainbow Dash peeks into one of the endless hallways, her voice echoing slightly. "So you're just, like, squatting in some ancient wizard's house?"

"Not squatting," I say, crossing my forelegs defensively. "The mayor gave it to me. It's mine. Legally."

Semi-legally.

Twilight narrows her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "How does that even happen?"

"Remember when Nightmare Moon showed up?" I reply, giving her a pointed look. "The mayor needed someone to go investigate, and I said I'd do it. In exchange, she gave me this place, since the last town mage mysteriously disappeared."

Rarity raises an eyebrow, glancing around the expansive living room. "And you didn't think to mention this before?"

"You were there for the deal!" I shoot back. "I didn't think it was worth bringing up again."

Twilight huffs, clearly unsatisfied. "And you never wondered what happened to the previous mage? Or why this house exists in the first place?"

"Not really," I say, ignoring her incredulous stare. "I figured it was better not to ask questions."

Rainbow Dash snickers. "Classic Kinetic. Just rolling with whatever's in front of him."

As they continue to snoop around, Twilight's attention zeroes in on the kitchen. She opens the cabinets one by one, her frown deepening with each empty shelf. Finally, she turns to me, her eyes blazing.

"Kinetic," she says, her voice dangerously calm. "Why is your kitchen completely empty?"

I wince, scratching the back of my neck. "Uh… I don't really use it."

"What do you mean, you don't use it?" she demands, throwing open another empty cabinet for emphasis.

"I mean I always eat out," I admit sheepishly. "It's just easier."

Twilight stares at me like I've grown a second head. "You live in an endless house with a fully functional kitchen, and you don't even use it?"

Rarity gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. "Darling, that's practically criminal! All this space, and you don't even entertain guests with a proper meal?"

Rainbow Dash bursts out laughing. "This guy lives in a magical mansion and still eats at the café like the rest of us. That's hilarious."

Twilight, meanwhile, looks like she's about to explode. "Do you even cook? Ever?"

I shrug, not bothering to hide my indifference. "Nope."

Twilight lets out an exasperated groan, pacing in circles as she tries to process this. "You're unbelievable! How can you call yourself a functioning adult if you don't even cook?"

"Who said I called myself that?" I mutter under my breath, earning a snort of laughter from Rainbow Dash.

Twilight stops pacing, her horn glowing faintly as she points it at me. "Grab your bits. We're going shopping. You're stocking this kitchen if it's the last thing I do."

"What? Why?" I ask, groaning as I push off the counter.

"Because you can't live like this!" Twilight snaps. "You're practically feral! No food, no meal plan—what even are you doing with your life?"

"Having a great time, obviously," I deadpan, but I comply, heading to one of the side rooms where I keep my bit bag.

When I come back, the bag is overflowing with bits, the drawstring barely holding it together. Rainbow Dash's jaw drops as she stares at the sheer amount of gold.

"Whoa! That's a lot of bits!" she exclaims, zipping closer to inspect the bag. "Why are you carrying that much around?"

I shrug, slightly defensive. "It's just… all I have."

Twilight blinks, looking at me like I've just admitted to something scandalous. "Wait. All you have? Why don't you keep it in a bank?"

I hesitate, shifting awkwardly. "I don't have a bank account."

The silence that follows is deafening. Twilight stares at me, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words. Rainbow Dash bursts out laughing, falling onto the floor and clutching her sides.

"You don't have a bank account?" Twilight finally sputters, her voice high-pitched with disbelief. "How are you even functioning? What do you do, just carry your entire fortune around in that bag like some kind of… of—"

"...pirate?" I offer with a shrug, adjusting the bit bag on my shoulder. "Because that sounds kind of cool."

Twilight's face contorts, somewhere between frustration and disbelief. "No! It's not cool, Kinetic! It's irresponsible! What happens if you lose that bag? Or if somepony steals it?"

"I'd notice," I reply dryly. "It's not exactly light, Twilight."

She groans again, clearly not done lecturing me, but Rainbow Dash interrupts, still laughing as she hovers above us. "This is too good. First, no food, then no bank account. What's next? You don't pay your taxes either?"

The grin on my face freezes.

Twilight catches it immediately. Her eyes narrow, and she slowly turns to face me, her voice dangerously low. "Kinetic… you do pay taxes, don't you?"

I cough, suddenly very interested in a spot on the floor. "Uh… define 'pay.'"

Her jaw drops, and she stares at me like I've just sprouted three extra heads. "You don't pay taxes?"

"It's not like I don't want to," I say quickly, holding up a hoof. "I just… haven't figured out how to, uh… start."

"No…" Twilight says, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and outrage. "No, no, no. You're the Archmage of Ponyville. You have a legal title, you make money, and you're telling me you don't pay taxes?!"

I wince, taking a small step back, the weight of my bit bag suddenly feeling heavier. "Uh… technically, I've only been in Equestria for two weeks, so it's fine right?"

I realize what I've said too late, and the room falls silent. Twilight stares at me, her jaw dropping slightly, while Rainbow Dash blinks in confusion.

"What?" Twilight says, her voice quiet and dangerously calm. "What did you just say?"

I raise a hoof as if to wave the comment away. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"No," she snaps, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. "You've only been in Equestria for two weeks? How is that even possible? How did you become the Town Mage?"

I groan inwardly, knowing there's no way out of this now. "Look, the test was really easy, okay? All I had to do was heat some water, freeze it, and levitate a thing. Boom, instant mage."

Twilight's left eye twitches, and she looks like she's about to have an aneurysm. "That's it? That's all you had to do to get this job?"

"It's not my fault the standards are so low!" I protest, holding up my hooves defensively. "I didn't make the rules! The mayor just asked for a quick demonstration, and apparently, that was enough."

Rainbow Dash bursts out laughing, doubling over in midair. "Oh, this is priceless. The 'Archmage of Ponyville' got his job by doing party tricks!"

Twilight, meanwhile, looks like her entire worldview is crumbling. "How—why—this doesn't make any sense! You're supposed to have advanced magical knowledge, not just… boiling water!"

I throw up my hooves defensively, sensing Twilight's rising frustration. "Hey, I can dowaymore than heat and freeze water now. The Archmage thing? That's a whole different test—crown-regulated. I went to Canterlot for that exam, remember?Thatwas no walk in the park."

Twilight rolls her eyes but doesn't contradict me. After all, she's seen me pull off some truly impressive feats since I became Town Mage. Rainbow Dash grins, still clearly amused by the whole situation.

"Yeah, well," Dash says, snickering, "the bar for Town Mage might've been set pretty low. But you sure make up for it with your spells. Not to mention your ability to dodge taxes and ignore basic adult responsibilities."

"Which is exactly why," Twilight interjects, her tone resolute, "I'm taking you into town to make you into a real stallion."

I blink, startled by the sudden shift in her demeanor. "Areal stallion, huh? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing, Twi." I let a mischievous smirk cross my face. "And here I was under the impression you were an innocent little filly."

Her cheeks flush pink, and she shoots me a withering glare. "That'snotwhat I meant, and you know it! Now come on." She prods me in the flank with her hoof, pushing me toward the door. "We're getting you a bank account, some groceries, and learning how to be a functioning member of society."

"Easy there, Sparkle," I joke, waggling my eyebrows. "Didn't think you were into pushing me around in public. Not that I mind—"

"Ugh!" Twilight cuts me off, her face now fully red. "Out! Now!"

Rainbow Dash howls with laughter, hovering overhead as she watches Twilight march me out the door by force. "Oh man, this is better than any Daring Do book."

Rarity trails behind us, shaking her head with a half-amused, half-disapproving smile. "Honestly, Kinetic, must you make every situation… awkward?"

"Only when it's entertaining," I throw back, stumbling slightly as Twilight practically shoves me towards Ponyville.

"Move it, Archmage," she grumbles, ears flattened. "We've got a long day of 'real pony' activities ahead of us."

Rainbow stretches her wings with a yawn. "Alright, I'm out. Banking and grocery shopping? Yeah, no thanks." She smirks, giving Twilight a teasing nudge. "Have fun making Kinetic into areal stallion, Twi."

Twilight groans, covering her face with a hoof. "Can younotphrase it like that?"

Rarity giggles behind her hoof, already turning to leave. "I must agree with Rainbow, darling. While I wouldloveto see you whip him into shape, I have far more pressing matters to attend to. There's fabric to sort, designs to finalize—perhaps next time."

I sigh dramatically. "Oh no, left alone with Twilight Sparkle. Whatever shall I do?"

Rarity waves over her shoulder, barely suppressing a chuckle. "Try not to make her combust, dear."

Rainbow gives me a final salute before zipping off into the sky, leaving me alone with Twilight. She watches them go, takes a deep breath, then turns to me with narrowed eyes.

"Bank. Now."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

---

The bank is… exactly as I expected. Quiet, dull, and filled with paperwork. Rows of wooden counters, teller windows, and an old-looking vault door at the back. A few ponies wait in line, discussing interest rates or deposit slips in hushed voices.

I glance around, unimpressed. "Well, this is exciting."

Twilight shoots me a look. "Yes, because financial responsibility issucha thrill ride."

Before I can retort, a bank teller—a prim-looking stallion with round glasses—greets us from behind the counter. "Good afternoon! How may I assist you today?"

Twilight nudges me forward. "He needs to open a bank account."

The teller blinks, his friendly smile never wavering. "Ah, excellent! Do you have a prior financial history with us, sir?"

I shake my head. "Nope."

"Any other banks?"

"Nope."

The teller's smile twitches slightly. "Alright, well, do you have a financial record we can transfer?"

"Nada."

Twilight lets out a long, suffering sigh. "He keeps all his bits in abag."

The teller's smile finally falters. "...I see."

I shrug, placing my overflowing bit pouch onto the counter with athud. "Yeah, so I'd like to, uh, put these in an account or whatever."

The teller adjusts his glasses, eyeing the bulging bag. "Well… we certainlycando that. May I have your full name?"

"Kinetic Flux."

He writes it down, then pauses. "Occupation?"

"Archmage and Town Mage of Ponyville."

The teller's quill hovers mid-air. He slowly looks up at me, then at Twilight. "Is he serious?"

Twilight pinches the bridge of her nose. "Unfortunately."

The teller clears his throat and continues writing. "Very well. Do you have an official form of identification?"

I blink. "...No?"

Twilight's eye twitches. "You don't have an ID either?"

"Didn't need one," I say. "Mayor Mare just gave me the Town Mage job. And, y'know, Princess Celestia didn't give me anything to prove the Archmage title, so..."

Twilight looks two seconds away from slamming her head into the counter.

The teller sighs. "We'll…figure something out."

I smirk at Twilight, leaning in slightly. "See? It's all working out."

Her glare could set things on fire.

After checking some papers behind the desk, the teller coughs awkwardly. "Right. Well, in order to open an account, we'll still need some form of official documentation. Do you have a birth certificate?"

I blink. "No."

Twilight's head snaps toward me so fast I hear her neck crack. "What do you mean, no?"

I shrug, shifting slightly as Twilight stares at me in utter disbelief. "I don't have one."

The teller clears his throat. "Sir, every pony has a birth certificate."

"Well,Idon't," I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. "Never needed one."

Twilight presses a hoof against her temple. "That's not how this works, Kinetic."

The teller hesitates before continuing. "Right… in that case, before we can open an account for you, we'll have to verify your status through official channels. As you claim to be an Archmage, we will need to send a request to the Crown to confirm your credentials and establish your legal identity."

I narrow my eyes. "So, you're saying I needCelestiato personally vouch for me to open a bank account?"

"Yes," the teller says without hesitation.

I groan. "That's bureaucratic nonsense."

Twilight jabs me in the ribs with her hoof. "That's how bureaucracyworks, Kinetic! You needlegal documents! You need apaper trail! This is what happens when you go through life just... existing with no structure!"

I cross my forelegs. "Sounds like a 'them' problem."

"It'syourproblem," she hisses. "You're basically a walking anomaly."

"Itoldyou, I'm just built different."

Twilight glares daggers at me, then turns back to the teller. "Fine. Send the request. I'll make sure Princess Celestia gets it."

The teller nods. "It may take a few days, but once we receive confirmation, you'll be able to open an account."

I sigh, waving a hoof lazily. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anything else you need? Mysoulperhaps?"

The teller adjusts his glasses, not looking amused. "That won't be necessary, sir."

Twilight lets out a long breath and drags me away from the counter before I can make another comment. "Alright, step one is in progress," she mutters. "Now onto step two."

I raise an eyebrow. "Which is?"

She glares at me. "Groceries."

I groan dramatically. "Twilight, do wehaveto?"

"Yes," she says firmly, pushing me toward the door with an almost manic determination. "You are going to become a real, functioning ponyif it kills me."

I smirk as she practically shoves me out of the bank. "Y'know, Twilight, if you wanted to domesticate me so badly, you could've just said so."

She lets out an exasperated groan. "Iam nottrying to domesticate you! I'm trying to keep you from withering away into a hay-deprived husk of a pony!"

I chuckle. "Sure, sure. But just saying, if you keep taking me out to do all these responsible activities, ponies are gonna start thinking we'recourting."

Twilight's entire face goes red. "W-We arenot—! UGH!" She stomps her hoof, ears flattening in frustration. "Will you just take this seriously?"

"Oh, I am," I lie, grinning. "You, me, a shopping trip—it's practically a date."

She makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a scream, dragging a hoof down her face. "You areimpossible!"

Before she can start ranting again, we reach the market, the bustling stalls packed with ponies buying and selling goods. The air smells of fresh fruit, hay, and warm bread. Twilight takes a deep breath, regaining some of her composure before slipping into lecture mode.

"Alright," she starts, her voice shifting to that 'teacher' tone she loves so much. "A balanced pony diet consists of three main food groups: grains, fruits and vegetables, and hay. Youneedall of them to be healthy."

I nod along, half-listening. "Right. So, how much of that do I actually need to eat before you stop harassing me?"

Twilight shoots me a look, her horn already glowing as she levitates the shopping list in front of her. "I'll stopharassingyou when I'm sure you won't drop dead from malnutrition."

"I feel like that's a pretty low bar."

"And yet you're barely clearing it," she mutters before striding toward the first stall.

We approach a vendor selling fresh oats and grains. A burly earth pony stands behind the counter, eyeing us with the bored patience of someone who's been selling the same thing all day. Twilight clears her throat and smiles politely.

"Hello! We'll take a half sack of oats, please."

The vendor raises an eyebrow. "That'll be twelve bits."

I move to pull out my bit pouch, but before I can, Twilight's eyes narrow slightly. "Twelve? For a half sack? The stall down the road is selling full sacks for fifteen."

The vendor barely blinks. "Their oats ain't as fresh."

Twilight tilts her head, unconvinced. "Really? Because I just saw somepony buy from them, and their stock lookedidenticalto yours."

I blink, mildly impressed. She came prepared.

The vendor shifts slightly, his confidence flickering. "Alright, fine. Ten bits."

Twilight doesn't move. "Nine."

"Ten."

"Nine and a quarter."

I squint at her.Can they do that with bits?

The vendor sighs, clearly not wanting to argue with a unicorn who looks like she has a whole thesis paper on oat pricing stored in her head. "Fine. Nine bits."

Twilight nods, satisfied, and I hand over the coins while she levitates the sack to me and I hold them with my telekinesis. As we walk away, I give her a side glance.

"So you even haggle over oats?"

She looks at me like I just admitted to eating dirt for breakfast. "Obviously.Do you have any idea how much ponies overpay if they don't question prices? If you just accept whatever number a vendor throws at you, you're basically throwing bits away!"

I hum thoughtfully. "That's actually kinda impressive. I usually forget to haggle."

Twilight stops dead in her tracks, her head snapping toward me so fast I hear her neck crack.

"You—you forgettohaggle?" Her voice rises in pitch with every word.

I blink. "Uh. Yeah?"

She gasps dramatically like I just confessed to being a timberwolf in disguise. "Kinetic, do youknowhow much money you've probably wasted?!"

I shrug. "Nope."

She groans, pressing a hoof to her forehead. "This is worse than the hay thing. This isworse.You haveso many bits,but you're just letting ponies rob you blind because youforget?"

"Look," I say, trying to contain my amusement as she spirals. "I just don't think about it, okay? When I want something, I buy it. It's not like I'm broke."

Twilight stares at me like I just said gravity is optional. "It'snotabout being broke! It's aboutprinciple!It's about being asmart consumer!"

I chuckle. "Twilight, you sound like a financial self-help book."

She points an accusatory hoof at me. "And you sound like somebit-rich disaster stallionwho's been wandering through life with no financial literacy!"

I smirk. "Iama bit-rich disaster stallion with no financial literacy."

Twilight lets out a strangled groan, rubbing her temples like she's fighting off the urge to scream. "If you weren't so—!" She cuts herself off, gritting her teeth.

I raise an eyebrow. "If I wasn't sowhat?"

She huffs, looking away. "So… ugh! Soinfuriatingly capable despite being an absolute mess!If you weren't—" She waves a hoof at me like she's trying to physically pluck the right words from thin air. "If you weren't socleverandpowerfuland—" Her voice stutters, her face heating up. "Andannoyingly mysterious!"

I blink, caught slightly off guard. "Annoyingly mysterious?"

She groans again, refusing to meet my gaze. "You know what I mean!"

I grin. "No, actually, I don't. Please, do go on."

Twilight grumbles under her breath, her ears twitching furiously. "It's like something out of a book," she mutters, mostly to herself. "A powerful rogue mage with questionable morals but undeniable skill, swooping in and making everything look easy while frustrating the competent, bookish mare trying to keep everything in order…"

I tilt my head, my grin widening. "Twilight, that sounds suspiciously like one of those cheesy romance novels you read."

Her entire faceeruptsin red, her eyes going wide with panic. "It isnot!"

I chuckle. "Oh, it absolutely is. What was that, 'mysterious rogue mage'? 'Undeniable skill'? Twilight Sparkle, do you have atype?"

"I—No!" she sputters, stepping back. "I was just making an example! It's not like I—ugh!" She covers her face with her hooves. "You're impossible!"

I lean in slightly, my smirk never fading. "You sure you're not falling for mymysterious rogue charm,Twilight?"

Twilight lets out an exasperated groan and lights her horn, grabbing hold of my coin pouch and chalk bag in her magic. "You know what? Forget it! We're moving on! I swear, if I let you keep talking, I'm going to have an aneurysm."

She yanks them both, attempting to physically drag me forward by them.

And then theypopright off.

Twilight stumbles slightly as the bags come free with almost no resistance. She blinks, staring down at them now floating uselessly in her magic. Then she slowly looks up at me, her expression shifting from confusion to dawning horror.

I grin. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."

Her eye twitches. "Explain."

I shrug. "They're not actually attached to me. I just keep them there with telekinesis."

Her mouth falls open slightly. "You—you don't eventiethem to yourself?"

"Nope."

"You're just… holding them in place?All the time?"

"Pretty much."

Twilight stares at me, her left eye twitching. "So you're telling me… you don't own saddlebags?"

"Nope."

"Or even a rope to tie your coin pouch to you?"

I shake my head. "Haven't needed to."

She inhales sharply, her face twitching as she struggles to process this new addition to my ever-growing list ofhorrible life choices.Then, suddenly, something clicks in her mind, and her eyes narrow further.

"I've seen you cast spells while wearing those."

I nod, completely unbothered. "Yeah."

Her voice rises in pitch. "While fighting! While running!While doing literally everything else!"

"Yep."

Her hoof slams into her forehead. "You—you'remulti-castingjust to hold onto your own stuff?!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty good at multitasking," I admit nonchalantly.

She juststaresat me, her mouth opening and closing as she processes just howstupidthis is. Then, finally, she lets out a deep breath and mutters, "You are going to give me a heart attack."

I smirk. "Hey, look on the bright side. At least I'm consistent."

"Consistently infuriating!" she snaps, shoving my bags back at me. "We're buying you saddlebags. Right now. No arguments."

I catch them in my magic, casually reattaching them to my sides with a bit of extra flourish. "Fine, fine. If it'll keep you from blowing up."

Twilight groans and rubs her temples as she leads me deeper into the market, her frustration levels reaching critical mass.

"Okay," she mutters, more to herself than to me. "If you don't have saddlebags, then whatelsedon't you have?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Define 'don't have.'"

She stops walking and slowly turns to look at me, her face eerily calm. "Do you own a broom?"

"Yes."

She blinks, clearly not expecting that. "Okay. Good." She hesitates. "Do you own… a dustpan?"

I think about it for a moment. "No."

Her eye twitches, but she pushes forward. "Fine. What about a mop?"

"Yes."

"Bucket?"

"Aside from the one for my drinking water? …No."

Twilight groans. "How do you even—?! You know what? Never mind." She breathes deeply, composing herself. "Do you have a hammer?"

"No."

"Nails?"

"No."

"A sewing kit?"

I stare at her. "Why would I own a sewing kit?"

She looks personally offended. "Because everypony should own a sewing kit!What do you do when your cloak rips?"

I give her a blank look. "I don't wear cloaks."

Twilight gasps like I just admitted to practicing dark magic in front of Celestia. "But you're amage!Mageswear cloaks!It's practicallytradition!"

I shrug. "Guess I'm a trendsetter."

Her eyes twitch. "Okay, fine. But you ownsomeclothes, right?"

I hesitate.

Twilight's eyes narrow. "Kinetic."

I rub the back of my neck. "Technically, no."

She stares at me, waiting for me to correct myself. When I don't, her ears flick in agitation. "You don't own any clothes?"

I shrug. "Ponies don'tneedclothes."

Twilight's mouth opens, then closes. She takes a deep breath. "Butyouare a unicorn with a prestigious title! You should atleastown a formal suit or a robe or—something!What do you wear to important events?"

"Uh… nothing?" I offer, trying not to laugh.

Twilight lookspersonallyoffended. "Nothing? Nothing?!What do you wear when Princess Celestia invites you to Canterlot?!"

I smirk. "Confidence."

Twilight's left eye twitches so violently I'm concerned she might need medical attention. "You—you absolute disaster of a pony!" she shouts, throwing up her hooves. "How have you survived this long?!"

"I like to think it's my roguish charm."

She groans, grabbing her own face. "You are going to be the death of me!"

I grin. "Then I guess you should start planning the funeral."

"Oh, don't worry," she mutters darkly. "I already am."

With a sharp huff, she turns back toward the market stalls. "We're addingclothesto the list now. Celestia help me, Irefuseto let you live like some feral spellcaster scraping by on raw talent and dumb luck."

I smirk, trotting after her. "Twilight, youlovemy dumb luck."

She glares at me over her shoulder. "Iloatheyour dumb luck."

I chuckle, catching up to her. "You loathe how much you love it."

She groans again, stomping toward the saddlebags stall. "You areinsufferable!"

"And yet, here we are," I say cheerfully.

She grits her teeth, grabs a pair of saddlebags, and shoves them into my hooves. "Buy them.Right now."

I grin and hand the vendor my bits. "Yes, dear."

Twilight makes a strangled sound and refuses to look at me for the rest of the transaction.

Twilight marches through the market like a mare on a mission, dragging me from stall to stall with an intensity that's honestly kind of impressive. By the time we're done, I've acquired an array of things I'm fairly certain I don't need, but Twilight insists are "basic necessities."

Here's what we end up buying:

Items Purchased

Saddlebags(obviously, the first thing she made me get)

Rope(Twilight muttered something about me "finally tying down my coin pouch")

A sewing kit(I still think this is unnecessary, but I wasn't winning that argument)

A hammer and nails(Twilight called this "basic home maintenance 101")

A small toolkit(includes a wrench, pliers, and a screwdriver because "what kind of adult doesn't have tools?")

A dustpan(to replace my current method of "just sweeping dirt out the front door")

A mop bucket(apparently using the sink bucket is "barbaric")

Two cloaks(Twilight insisted I at leastlooklike a proper mage sometimes)

Formal attire(a simple suit she picked 'Don't tell Rarity we bought it premade.')

Groceries(a mix of grains, fruits, vegetables, hay, and spices because "variety is important")

Basic cookware(pots, pans, utensils—because I "can't live on café food forever")

Final Cost

By the time we're done, I've gone from nearly 800 bits to a meager 400.

---

We finally trudge back to my house, theH.A.R.D.I.S., and I unlock the door. She's still in full-on "fix Kinetic Flux" mode, floating the bags of supplies ahead of her as she barges in.

"Alright," she says, dumping everything onto the living room floor with a loud thud. "Let's put all this where it belongs. And while we're at it, I'm doing a full inventory of your house."

I groan, collapsing onto the nearest couch. "Twilight, you've already turned my life into a checklist. Can't I at least take a break?"

She shoots me a glare that could melt steel. "You can take a breakafteryou prove to me that you're capable of basic adulting."

I sigh dramatically. "Fine. Lead the way, O Mighty Sparkle."

She rolls her eyes, already heading for the kitchen to unpack the groceries. As I drag myself off the couch to follow her, I mutter under my breath, "I can't believe I'm being reformed by a librarian."

Twilight doesn't even turn around. "And I can't believe I'm reforming a mage who doesn't even own saddlebags."

Touché.

Twilight, still in full-on organization mode, levitates a notebook and quill from her saddlebags, flipping it open with a determined glare. "Alright. First, we'll take stock of what you actually own, and then we'll put everything we bought in its proper place."

I sigh, rubbing my temple. "Twilight, this house isinfinite.You're not gonna be able to inventory it."

She gives me a withering look. "Then I'll stick to theimportantrooms."

I hold up my hooves in surrender. "Fine, fine. Just don't go too deep into the side hallways. Things… get weird in there."

She narrows her eyes at me but doesn't argue, instead marching toward the kitchen.

---

Kitchen Inventory

The kitchen, surprisingly, isn't as bad as Twilight was expecting. Sure, it had been nearlyemptywhen she first checked, but at least it wasn't cluttered or destroyed.

Running Water: (Still just a hose-spigot in the sink, but functional.)

Counter Space: (Marble countertops—because at least I have taste.)

Shelves and Cabinets: (Previously empty, now stocked with the food she made me buy.)

Cooking Equipment: (Until today, one pot.)

Twilight hums in approval as she puts the new cookware in place. "Well, at least now youcancook. Whether or not you actually have the ability to is another issue entirely."

I lean against the counter, arms crossed. "Icancook, Twilight. I just don't."

She scoffs. "Right. And Icanteleport to the moon, but I justdon't."

I roll my eyes.

---

Next, she moves to a random hallway door and it turns out to be an entire tool room that I had found about a week ago and promptly forgotten existed.

"Oh yeah." I blink as Twilight flips on the light, revealing a surprisingly well-stocked space. "I have a tool room."

Twilight slowly turns to look at me, her expression unreadable. "…Youforgotthat you have an entireroomfor tools?"

I scratch the back of my neck. "In my defense, this house isinfinite."

Twilight sighs heavily and starts rifling through the shelves. "Okay, you actuallydohave some supplies."

Hammer: (Which means I didn't need to buy one. Fantastic.)

Nails: (Unfortunately, most of them are rusty.)

Saws, Wrenches, Screwdrivers: (At least I'm covered on general maintenance.)

I frown at the rusty nails. "So I didn't need to buy a hammer, but the nails are useless. Fantastic."

Twilight smirks, clearly enjoying my suffering. "See?Thisis why organization matters."

---

Feeling victorious from her tool room discovery, Twilight moves on to cataloging themainrooms of the house:

Living Room: (Large, well-lit by floating orbs, currently filled with bags of new supplies.)

Master Bedroom: (Messy, but otherwise normal—Twilight wisely chooses not to go near my personal stuff.)

Guest Rooms: (Four in total, surprisingly clean because I never use them.)

Bathroom: (Basic, but functional. Twilight spent way too much time making sure I have proper hygiene supplies.)

Satisfied with thenormalsections of the house, she finally moves toward one of the side hallways again… and that's where things fall apart.

---

Twilight cracks open a door in one of the endless hallways… and immediately slams it shut apparently seeing something she didn't like.

"…What," she says slowly, "was that?"

"No idea," I admit, eyeing the door warily. "I told you things get weird in here."

Curious but cautious, she opens another door… only to find a decayed alchemy lab.

Another door? Alibrary—the same one I found before.

Another? A roomfull of nothing but chairs.

Twilight slowly turns to face me, her expression unreadable. "Kinetic."

"…Yes?"

"What is your house?"

I sigh. "Big.Obviously."

Twilight groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Nope. We're done. I refuse to question this further." She levitates her notebook up and crosses something out with way more force than necessary. "We arestickingto the main rooms."

"Good call."

I try not to smirk as she slams the hallway door shut, sealing away whatever strange horrors lurk within.

---

By the time she's done with her "inventory," she looks exhausted, butslightlymore at peace knowing I now haveat leastthe basics of adult responsibility.

"Okay," she sighs, closing her notebook. "Youtechnicallyhave what you need to function."

I smirk. "So does that mean I'm officially a real stallion now?"

Twilight flushes red, then promptly levitates a broom and smacks me in the side with it thrice.

"OW—okay, okay! Geez, Twilight, at leastpretendI have dignity."

She huffs. "I will when you start acting like a real adult."

I roll my eyes. "Good luck with that."

Twilight groans but doesn't argue, instead collapsing onto the couch. "Sweet Celestia, I need tea after this."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "You? I'm the one who just lost 400 bits."

She shoots me a glare. "You deserved it."

I snicker. "Yeah, yeah."

Despite all her complaining, I can tell she's actuallyrelievedthat I havesomesemblance of structure now.

Twilight gathers her things, standing in the center of my now significantly more organized living room, her notebook still floating in her magic. She looks around one last time, seemingly satisfied—though she quickly shifts to one of her signature stern lectures.

"Kinetic Flux," she begins, her tone leaving no room for interruption, "this was just thefirst stepin turning you into a functional member of society."

I sigh, already regretting every decision that led to this moment. "Twilight, I—"

"No," she cuts me off, pointing a hoof at me like an accusing teacher. "You listen. Today, we got you basic household supplies, a stocked kitchen, and—hopefully—started the process of you becoming financially responsible with that bank account."

"I still don't have a bank account," I remind her with a smirk.

She glares. "Yet.But when Princess Celestia verifies your status, youwill.And when that happens, you are going to use it properly. No more hauling your entire fortune around in a pouch like a—"

"Pirate?" I offer, earning a frustrated groan.

"You are not a pirate!" she snaps. "You're the Archmage of Ponyville! You have atitle!You haveresponsibilities!You need toact like it!"

I hold up a hoof, trying to placate her. "Okay, okay. I get it."

"Do you?" she asks, narrowing her eyes. "Because so far, you've shown me that you're disorganized, reckless, and completely unwilling to plan for the future. That's not how an Archmage should behave!"

I sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Twilight, you're acting like I've ruined the country or something."

"You haven't," she admits, "but only because you've somehow managed to stumble through life with pure luck and raw talent. That's not sustainable! You need structure! Routine! A plan!"

I rub my temples, feeling exhaustion creeping in. "Twilight, I appreciate the effort. Really. But you're not my mom."

She freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I-I'm not trying to be your mom! I'm just… trying to help you not self-destruct!"

"Right," I say, smirking. "Well, mission accomplished. I'm officially stocked and prepared for the future. Can I go now?"

Twilight groans, dragging a hoof down her face. "Fine. But if I find out you're still skipping meals or ignoring basic hygiene, I'm coming back here, and Iwillbring checklists."

I chuckle. "Noted."

She lets out a long sigh, finally putting her notebook away. "Okay. I'm leaving. But remember, Kinetic—this isn't just about you. As Archmage, ponies look up to you. They expect you to set an example."

I nod, doing my best to look serious. "Got it."

"Good. I'm bringing tax forms next time." She turns toward the door, muttering under her breath, "Honestly, sometimes I don't know how you're still alive…"

I chuckle softly as she leaves, the door closing behind her with a faint click. The house falls silent again, and I let out a long sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

---

By the time I drag myself upstairs to my room, the day's events have caught up to me. My legs feel like lead, my head is pounding, and my stomach still hasn't quite forgiven me for the hayburger incident.

I flop onto the bed with zero grace, staring up at the ceiling as the floating orbs cast their warm glow across the room. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel… oddly grounded.

Sure, Twilight had basically dragged me kicking and screaming into adulting, but maybe having a stocked house and a bit of structure wouldn't be so bad.

With a yawn, I pull the blanket over me and let my eyes drift shut, the events of the day fading into a haze as sleep takes over.

 

[Riddlest]

I wake up the next morning feeling… surprisingly well-rested. No aches from running myself into the dirt during the race, no immediate life-threatening hunger pangs, and—most notably—no Twilight Sparkle standing over me with a checklist, ready to force-feed me responsibility.

All in all, a good start.

I stretch lazily before rolling out of bed and trudging downstairs. The house is eerily quiet, the glowing orbs floating lazily overhead as if they, too, were still waking up. My hooves click against the polished floors as I make my way to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Then I see it.

The kitchen. Stocked. Filled with food.

A deep, primal sense of dread settles in my gut.

Right. Twilight made me buy groceries. Which means I… technically have to cook something.

I stare at the neatly arranged shelves of oats, grains, and—most terrifyingly—hay. I grab a bundle of hay and inspect it like it's some sort of cursed artifact. It's just… dry strands. Fibrous, tough, and completely unappetizing in its raw form.

How do ponies cook hay?

Do they steam it? Fry it? Do I need seasoning? Twilight had given me the whole speech about nutrition, but I'd been tuning most of it out.

I put the hay back down as if it personally offended me. "Nope," I say to the empty room. "Not doing this."

There's a perfectly good food place nearby, and unlike me, they actually know what they're doing.

---

The streets of Ponyville are already bustling by the time I make my way into town. Vendors are setting up their stalls, foals are playing, and the air is thick with the scent of fresh-baked bread and morning meals. My stomach rumbles approvingly.

I head to a small café on the main road, the kind of place that smells like warm coffee and good life choices. A few ponies glance my way as I step inside, but most are too occupied with their meals to care.

Sliding into a seat, I glance at the menu. I should probably get something with hay in it, if only to keep Twilight off my back.

When the waitress trots up with a bright smile, I sigh and make my choice. "I'll have… whatever the breakfast special is. As long as it has hay in it."

She nods. "That'd be the Hay & Oat Pancakes with a side of fresh fruit. Sound good?"

I resist the urge to ask if they could just… not put hay in it. Instead, I force a smile and nod. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great."

The waitress trots off, and I lean back, rubbing my temples.

Twilight would beso proud.

I'm halfway through my first cup of coffee, quietly congratulating myself for dodging the wholecooking hayfiasco, when I spot a familiar purple shape in my peripheral vision.

My heart sinks.Oh, no.

Sure enough, Twilight Sparkle is trotting by outside the café window, her saddlebag slung over her back. My stomach lurches, and I immediately slouch behind the menu, peaking out and desperately hoping she doesn't notice me.

No such luck. Her gaze sweeps across the inside of the café, and our eyes lock. Her eyes widen in disbelief, and I can practically see her blood pressure spike.Fantastic.She gives me a look that screamsReally? Really?!before stomping over.

I sigh, trying to casually lower my head further behind the menu as if that might hide me. It doesn't. In mere seconds, Twilight is standing at my table, her saddlebag draped over her back, her mane already frizzing with annoyance.

"You," she says through gritted teeth, "areunbelievable."

I blink, affecting my best innocent look. "Morning to you too, Twilight."

She places both forehooves on the edge of the table and leans forward. "You said you knew how to cook, that you didn't need to eat out all the time!"

"Icancook," I protest, setting my tea down carefully. "I just—look, I don't know how tocook hay."

Twilight's nostrils flare, and she glances pointedly at the half-eaten hay-laden breakfast in front of me. "So you just let somepony else do it for you?"

I shrug, letting out a small chuckle. "Hey, I'm supporting the local economy. Isn't that what you wanted? Being aresponsiblecitizen?"

Her left eye twitches. "I wanted you touse the grocerieswe bought! You know, atyourhouse? Where we spentall those bitsso you wouldn'tneedto come here!"

"I tried," I say defensively, raising my hooves. "I stared at that hay for a good five minutes and had no idea what to do with it. I mean, do you boil it? Fry it? Pour sauce on it? I've got no clue!"

Twilight throws her head back, groaning loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby patrons. "You add it to recipes. You can sauté it with vegetables, mix it into casseroles—there's a million ways!"

I poke the half-eaten stack of hay-and-oat pancakes. "Never would've guessed you could mash hay into pancakes," I admit, then wave my fork. "But, hey—somepony here figured it out."

She closes her eyes, clearly doing her best to stay calm. "You are going to learn.Today.You can't just keep spending bits—" She breaks off, shaking her head. "No, this is fine. This isfine.Because now we know exactly what the lesson is today:Hay Cookery 101."

I swallow a sudden lump of panic. "You say that like you're about to chain me to a stove."

"Don't tempt me," Twilight mutters, slumping into the seat across from me with a defeated sigh. "Honestly, Kinetic, you're one step forward, two steps back."

"More like half a step forward," I joke, pushing the remains of my breakfast around with a fork.

"Exactly!" she snaps, her mane frizzing more. "You werethis closeto being self-sufficient!"

"I'm self-sufficient," I argue. "I have a house, I have bits, I'm alive. Boom—done."

She slaps a hoof on the table, rattling the plates. "But you promised toeat at home!"

"Technically," I say, emphasizing the word with a small smirk, "I only promised totrycooking. Then I realized I don't know how, so I came here. Not my fault the system failed me."

Her glare could melt steel. "The system didn't fail you;youfailed you."

I laugh despite myself. "Fine, fine. I'll let you teach me. Satisfied?"

She eyes me warily, but her anger seems to diminish a fraction. "No, but I'll take what I can get."

I gesture to my plate. "Want some pancakes? Might help you calm down."

Twilight bristles, standing up so quickly her chair scrapes against the floor. "Finish your meal, pay your bill, and meet me at your house in half an hour.We'recooking breakfast. For real this time."

I grin, lifting my cup in mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."

Grumbling under her breath, she trots away, leaving me to savor the last bites of my hay-laden pancakes in relative peace.

After finishing my breakfast (andmy tea, because I wasn't about to let Twilight ruin my morning entirely), I pay my bill and take a leisurely stroll back to my house. No point in rushing—if I'm going to suffer through a cooking lesson, I might as well enjoy my last few minutes of freedom.

As expected, Twilight is already waiting at my front door when I arrive. She taps her hoof impatiently, her saddlebag filled with what I assume are instructional materials likeHay: A User's Guide.

I smirk. "You're awfully dedicated to making sure I don't starve."

She rolls her eyes. "Dedicated? No.Frustrated beyond reason?Absolutely."

"Sure, sure," I say, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "You care, though. Don't think I don't see it."

Twilight groans as she follows me inside. "I care aboutnot letting my friend make terrible life decisions!That's not the same thing!"

"Sounds pretty close to me," I say with a grin, strolling into the kitchen.

She huffs, setting her saddlebag on the counter. "Alright, listen up, because this is important. Cooking hay is about balancing flavors. On its own, it's bland, dry, and grassy."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wow, so youdoadmit it tastes bad."

She glares. "It's anacquired taste!The trick is pairing it with other ingredients to enhance the flavor. Got it?"

I sigh dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with."

Twilight levitates a frying pan onto the stove and starts rummaging through the ingredients we bought yesterday. She pulls out some fresh vegetables, oil, and seasoning before turning to me with the authority of a general preparing for battle.

"First, we'll make a simple sauté. Hay, carrots, peppers, a little onion—easy, quick, and edible."

I cross my forelegs. "And if it still tastes like hay?"

Twilight glares. "Itwon'tif you cook it right."

I smirk. "So what you're saying is, youcareabout me eating something I actually like."

She groans, lighting the stove and shoving a wooden spoon at me. "Stir."

I chuckle but comply, pushing the hay and vegetables around the pan as the aroma of caramelizing onions and sizzling oil fills the air. I have to admit, it smells… not terrible.

"See?" Twilight says smugly, watching me work. "Cooking isn't that hard."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. "Still feels like a waste of time when I can just go out and buy food."

She smacks my shoulder with a rolled-up scroll. "We literally just went over this."

After a few more minutes, the mixture looks reasonably edible. Twilight serves it onto a plate and watches eagerly as I take a bite.

It still tastes like hay.

But the vegetables and seasoningsalmostmake up for it. It's less like chewing on dried grass and more like… well,seasoned dried grass.

Twilight studies my face carefully. "Well?"

I chew slowly, considering my words. "…It'sbetterthan plain hay."

Her eye twitches. "Better?That's it?"

I smirk, setting the fork down. "Hey, that's high praise coming from me."

She groans, dragging a hoof down her face. "You're impossible."

I lean back in my chair, still smirking. "And yet, here you are, making sure I eat properly."

Twilight glares but doesn't argue.

I take another bite.

…It's still hay. But at least it's hay withflavor.

"Well," she says, levitating the dishes into the sink. "At least you ate it."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble, wiping my mouth. "Congratulations, Twilight, you've successfully forced me to eat something vaguely nutritious."

She smirks. "And don't you feel so much better now?"

I stretch, considering my response. "I feel… exactly the same."

Twilight rolls her eyes. "Of course you do."

We step outside into the bright morning light, the marketplace already alive with ponies milling about. As we walk, Twilight's expression shifts slightly, and I can feel her working up to something.

"So," she says casually, "the girls and I are heading to Cloudsdale for the Best Young Flyer Competition."

I hum noncommittally. "Cool."

She gives me a look. "And you should come."

I snort. "I should, huh?"

"Yes." She tosses her mane and lifts her chin. "Rainbow Dash is competing, and we're going to cheer her on. You are part of the group now, like it or not. You'll regret not coming."

I squint at her. "That sounded like a threat."

She smirks. "It was."

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ugh, fine. But how exactly am I supposed to get up there?"

Twilight brightens immediately. "I thought you'd ask! I found a spell that can give temporary wings, but it's really advanced, and I could only pull it off once."

"So what I'm hearing is the great and powerful Twilight Sparkle isn't good enough at magic for it?" I tease.

She glares. "I am that good. The spell is just really difficult and impractical for multiple ponies. So we're using a different spell—one that lets non-pegasi walk on clouds."

I nod along, pretending to be interested. "Alright, sounds easy enough."

We make our way toward the launch site, where the others are already gathered. Rarity, as expected, is fluttering about gracefully with a pair of iridescent, shimmering butterfly wings. Applejack, Pinkie, and Twilight all stand near the hot air balloon, which is already prepped for takeoff.

"You sure about this, Twi?" Applejack asks, watching her. "Ain't exactly normal for us to be trottin' around on clouds."

Twilight nods. "I'm positive. The spell is perfectly safe."

She turns to me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And you should cast it yourself."

I blink. "What."

She smirks, the challenge clear in her voice. "Since you're so impossibly talented at magic, I assume you don't need me to do it for you."

I force a smile, my mind racing. Oh. Oh, this is bad. Twilight still doesn't know that I can't cast real spells—but I can fake them, and I'm not about to ruin my perfect (inside Ponyville) track record.

"Of course," I say smoothly, rolling my shoulders. "What kind of Archmage would I be if I couldn't do a simple cloud-walking spell?"

I close my eyes, humming as if channeling magic.

The trick is simple: Idon'tactually walk on clouds.

While Twilight and the others rely on her spell, I stick to my own method—mydisk lifttechnique. Underneath each hoof, I manipulate thin, compacted dirt discs, lifting and adjusting them ever so slightly as I walk. They act as a nearly invisible platform, they'll make itlooklike I'm stepping on clouds when, in reality, I'm standing on my own personal platforms.

It's just like wearing makeshift horseshoes—except, you know, mine are secretly levitating pieces of earth.

We get in the hot air balloon and slowly drift up and closer to Cloudsdale.

When we touch down on a soft, pillowy street of clouds, I make sure my first steplookscautious but confident, just like everypony else's. I let out a slow breath, feeling the dirt disks shift and adjust under me.

Perfect.

Twilight eyes me, watching for any sign of hesitation. "See? Not that hard."

"Yeah," I reply smoothly. "Super easy."

Pinkie bounces excitedly on the clouds, giggling. "This is sofloofy!It's like walking on marshmallows!"

Applejack shifts uncomfortably. "Ah dunno if Ah like this. Feels too much like standin' on nothin'."

Rarity, who is far too busy admiring her shimmering, gossamer wings, doesn't seem to care. "I can't believe I finally get to experience Cloudsdale in suchstyle!"

Twilight nods, pleased that her spell is holding. "Alright, we should find some seats. Rainbow Dash is probably getting ready by now."

As we start walking through the floating city, I can't help but be impressed. Cloudsdale is exactly what you'd expect from a civilization built by and for pegasi—vast, open, and breathtakingly high in the sky. White marble-like structures rise from the clouds, shaped seamlessly into domes, spires, and vast courtyards. Waterfalls of condensed moisture trickle down the edges of buildings, feeding into swirling rivers of mist.

It's like stepping into a dream.

And itwouldbe a dream—if I weren't focusing every second on keeping my act together. Every step, every subtle movement has to be perfect.

As the group continues onward, Twilight keeps glancing at me from the corner of her eye, like she's waiting for me to slip up.

I smirk at her. "You're staring, Sparkle. Falling for my mysterious rogue charm again?"

She huffs. "No, I'm just making sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Wow," I say with mock offense. "Youstilldon't trust me?"

She rolls her eyes. "I trust your magic,notyour life choices."

Fair.

We reach the stadium soon enough, the grand floating coliseum already filling with pegasi eager to watch the Best Young Flyer Competition. As we settle into the stands, I breathe a little easier.

All I have to do is sit here, watch Rainbow do her thing, and not fall to my death.

Easy.

As we take our seats in the stadium, I glance up toward the VIP booths. And sure enough, there she is—Princess Celestia, seated high above the crowd in a grand, ornate viewing box.

And she's lookingright at me.

Oh no.

Her serene, knowing smile only deepens as she lifts a hoof in a casual wave, clearly expecting me to join her.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

I immediately turn my head, pretending Ididn'tjust see her. Maybe if I act really interested in the clouds or the stadium architecture, she'll assume I'm too busy to notice—

Twilight nudges me. "Did Princess Celestia just wave at you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say quickly, keeping my gazefirmlyon the competition stage.

Twilight frowns. "Kinetic, she's right there."

"Wow, look at that cloud formation," I say loudly. "Nature's amazing, isn't it?"

Twilight's frown deepens. "She's still looking at you."

"Who?" I ask innocently.

Twilight groans, dragging a hoof down her face. "Oh, for the love of—just go!"

Before I can protest, two Royal Guards land beside me, their golden armor gleaming under the sunlight.

"Sir," one of them says formally, his face completely neutral. "Princess Celestia requests your presence in the royal viewing box."

I give them my bestI'm totally innocentsmile. "Oh? That's weird, I don't think I got an invitation."

"The Princess insists," the second guard says, his tone leaving zero room for argument.

Twilight leans in, smirking. "Looks like you don't have a choice."

I sigh dramatically. "Guess not."

As I stand, Twilight adds, "Try not to embarrass yourself."

"No promises," I shoot back, giving her a wink before following the guards toward the royal booth.

Well, I think to myself as we ascend toward Celestia's private seating.This is probably going to be awkward.

As the guards lead me up toward the VIP booth, I trudge with all the enthusiasm of a stallion walking to his own execution. The stadium below is a swirling mix of colors and cheering ponies, but all I can focus on is the all-knowing smirk Princess Celestia is surely wearing.

And sure enough, as I step into her private viewing box, there it is—the smug, impossibly graceful smile of a pony who has all the cards and knows it.

"Kinetic Flux," Celestia greets, her voice warm and playful. "How wonderful of you to join me."

"Yeah, wonderful," I mutter under my breath, stepping forward. "Great view you've got here."

She chuckles softly, gesturing to the seat beside her with an elegant wave of her hoof. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

I hesitate, then take the seatas farfrom her as politely possible.

Celestia merely smiles, her gaze flicking over the stadium for a moment before settling back on me. "I must admit, I was beginning to wonder," she says lightly.

I blink. "Wonder about what?"

She tilts her head, her voice casual but unmistakably sharp. "Twilight."

I freeze, my mind instantly going intooh nomode.

Celestia continues, sipping delicately from a glass of tea. "She hasn't sent me any letters about your magic."

I swallow. "Oh."

"Yes," Celestia says, as if she hadn't just dropped that particular bomb. "It's quite curious, isn't it? Twilight is thorough. Diligent. She would normally write extensively about the Archmage of Ponyville. His spells. His abilities. His unique style."

I force a casual chuckle. "Well, she's busy. Y'know, friendship studies and all that."

Celestia raises an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. "Or perhaps… she doesn't know?"

I exhale sharply, looking away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, Kinetic," Celestia says with a small laugh, setting her tea down. "We both know that's not true."

I grip the edge of my seat. "Twilight doesn'tneedto know."

Celestia's gaze turns softer, but no lesspiercing. "And why is that?" she asks, her voice kind. "Why haven't you told her?"

I shift uncomfortably. "Because she doesn't need tofreak outabout it."

"Ah," Celestia hums knowingly, reclining slightly. "So you do intend to tell her?"

"…eventually."

Her smile is way too amused. "Of course."

I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Look, Twilight isobsessedwith magic. She getsexcitedwhen she finds a new spell, she writesessaysabout small discoveries—do you haveany ideawhat she'd do if she found out about me?"

Celestia hums. "She would ask questions."

"She would never stop asking questions," I groan. "She would analyzeeverything, testeverything, and lose her mind trying to explain it. And I like my life Twilight-drama-free."

Celestia gives me a knowing look. "And how long do you plan to keep this up?" she asks. "Forever?"

I hesitate.

She leans in slightly. "Because Twilight Sparkle is many things, but oblivious is not one of them. Shewillfind out."

I sigh, leaning back in my seat. "Yeah, well. That's a future me problem."

Celestia smiles, ever infuriatingly patient. "Very well," she says lightly.

I narrow my eyes. "You're enjoying this."

"Oh, immensely," she admits with a small laugh. "It's quite fascinating to see how long you think you can keep up this charade."

I groan, dragging a hoof down my face. "Why did you even call me up here? Just to taunt me?"

Celestia's smile softens. "I simply wanted to check on you," she says, her voice genuinely warm. "You've been quite the interesting addition to Ponyville."

I roll my eyes. "Gee, thanks."

I exhale, sitting back in my chair as the competition begins to start below. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Celestia smirks. "No, Kinetic. That is a lesson you must learn on your own."

I sigh, already regretting everything about today.

---

The competition drags on as various pegasi take their turns, each performing increasingly impressive aerial maneuvers. Celestia watches with serene amusement while I try my best to ignore her knowing gaze.

I keep my eyes on the sky, waiting for Rainbow Dash's turn. The crowd cheers for each contestant, and while some are impressive, none have quite the same reckless flair as Ponyville's 'fastest pegasus'.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the announcer calls her name.

"And now, for our next contestant—representing Ponyville—Rainbow Dash!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, and I spot Twilight, Pinkie, and Applejack in the stands below, waving and hollering as loudly as they can. I smirk. Figures.

Then, before Rainbow even takes off, something unexpected happens.

"And, uh, Rarity!" the announcer calls hesitantly.

Rarity steps onto the launch platform.

I blink. "The hell is she doing up there?"

Celestia hums in amusement. "Ah. I had a feeling she'd do something dramatic."

I lean forward slightly as Rarity gives an exaggerated bow to the crowd, fluttering her elegant butterfly wings with a flourish. The stadium gasps in awe at the shimmering, translucent magic.

Twilight, down below, has her face in her hooves.

"Oh no," I mutter. "She's inserting herself into Rainbow's act."

Celestia chuckles. "Confidence can be a powerful thing."

I watch as Rainbow Dash fidgets on the platform, clearlynotthrilled about this new development, but before she can protest, Rarity leaps into the air with a dramatic twirl.

The crowd loves it.

Rainbow clenches her jaw, wings twitching with irritation before she takes off after her.

The performance starts decently enough—Rainbow Dash executes her stunts, weaving through hoops, spinning midair, and pulling off sharp dives that get the audience roaring. Rarity, meanwhile, doesn't do much more than float gracefully around her, waving at the crowd and striking elegant poses.

I watch with increasing secondhand embarrassment.

"This issonot what Rainbow signed up for," I mutter.

Celestia hides a chuckle behind her hoof. "She does seem… less than pleased."

I can almost feel Rainbow Dash's frustration radiating from up here. She tries to focus, building up speed, but Rarity keeps stealing the spotlight, gesturing dramatically, letting her enchanted wings catch the light.

And then she goes too high.

I see it before she does—the sunlight growing harsher, the faint shimmer of the wing spell flickering at the edges.

"Uh-oh," I mutter.

Then, as if the universe wants to make a point, Rarity soars toward the sun, striking one final extravagant pose.

And her wings ignite

There's aFwufof magic as they burn away in an instant, vanishing into nothingness.

Rarity hangs in the air for a heartbeat.

Then she plummets.

The collective gasp from the stadium is deafening. Ponies scream as she tumbles through the air, flailing, her voice shrill with panic.

After a brief moment Rainbow Dash sees it.

And suddenly, she's diving.

As soon as Rarity starts plummeting, the stadium erupts into chaos. Screams and gasps ripple through the crowd, ponies pointing in horror as she tumbles toward certain doom.

Rainbow Dash, to her credit, reacts immediately. She tucks her wings in, dives at breakneck speed, her prismatic trail streaking through the sky like a comet. But Rarity is falling fast, and Cloudsdale is high—too high.

I move.

Without hesitation, I shift my weight, breaking the illusion of walking on clouds. My disk lift spell reacts instantly, dirt moving down as I fall through the clouds like a stone. I'm suddenly moist and cold. The moment I breach the lower layers, the world opens up below me—Rarity is still flailing, her screams echoing in the open sky.

Rainbow Dash is closing in, but I don't take any chances. My horn ignites as I compress the air near the ground beneath Cloudsdale. A large pocket of thickened air pressure forms right where Rarity is headed—a safety net invisible to the naked eye.

If Rainbow fails, she won't die.

She'llbounce... probably.

The wind howls in my ears as I adjust my disks, slowing my own descent. I keep my eyes locked on Rarity, heart pounding in my chest.

Come on, Dash. You're faster than this.

And then—

BOOM

A sonic explosion of color erupts through the sky.

A Sonic Rainboom.

The force shakes the air itself, sending a shockwave of prismatic energy rippling outward. The crowd above loses their collective minds. I feel the vibration even from below, the sheer force of it rattling my bones.

Rainbow snatches Rarity midair, pulling up in a jaw-dropping arc. I watch as they soar back toward the clouds, the Rainboom still lingering like a celestial afterimage in the sky.

I let out a long breath, dispersing the air pocket I had compressed beneath them. No need for it now.

I was never worried, really. I swear.

I hover beneath the clouds for a moment, letting the cheers from the stadium wash over me. The energy in the air is electrifying—Rainbow Dash just pulled off a Sonic Rainboom for the first time since she was a filly. The Wonderbolts are staring at her like she just ascended to godhood. Rarity is sobbing dramatically into Applejack's shoulder.

And nopony even knows I was down here.

Good.

I take a deep breath, making sure my heart isn't about to explode from all that excitement. Then, with a flick of my magic, I levitate straight up through the cloud floor and into the Princess's private viewing box. The wetness doesn't bother me as much as I'd imagined.

I emerge with an effortless glide, as if I had been here the whole time, and 'walk' neatly next to Celestia, shaking off the water clinging to my coat. She turns to me with an amused expression, not at all surprised.

Somehow, dispite not seeing me do it, sheknows.

I fold my legs, leaning against the railing as if I hadn't just casually risen from the underworld. "Enjoy the show?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Celestia's serene smile doesn't waver. "Oh, immensely," she says, her voice warm with amusement. "It's always a rare pleasure to witness a Sonic Rainboom. And, of course…" She pauses, her eyes twinkling as they meet mine. "I was quite fascinated by the backup plan."

I pretend to inspect my hoof. "Backup plan? I have no idea what you're talking about."

She chuckles softly. "Of course not." Then she leans in just slightly, lowering her voice so that only I can hear. "You didn't have to let Rainbow Dash save her, you know."

I glance at her, pretending to be indifferent. "Didn't I?"

She tilts her head, still smiling, but her gaze sharpens. "You had a safety net in place. You could have caught her yourself, made it higher. But you didn't."

I shrug. "Didn't want to steal her moment."

Celestia hums approvingly. "Indeed. And itwasquite the moment." She turns her gaze back to the stadium, where Rainbow Dash is being lifted into the air by the Wonderbolts, the crowd chanting her name. "Few ponies would have the awareness—or the humility—to make that choice."

I scoff. "I just didn't want to deal with the attention."

Celestia chuckles knowingly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Archmage."

I roll my eyes but can't help the small smirk that tugs at my lips. "Well, if Ididhave a backup plan, purely hypothetical, of course, I'd say it worked out fine."

Celestia nods. "It did. Though I must say, I find it interesting that you're so…comfortableworking from the shadows."

I arch a brow. "Are you saying I should be more public with my heroics?"

"Oh, not at all," she says, smiling. "Just making an observation."

I shift my weight, watching Rainbow Dash revel in the praise below. For a moment, I wonder what it would have been like if I had caught Rarity instead. Would I be the one standing in the center of the stadium, basking in the cheers?

Probably.

But I have no interest in that. Let Rainbow have her glory. I just want to go home, eat something thatisn'thay, and avoid Twilight's inevitable meltdown over Rarity's reckless stunt.

Celestia watches me for a long moment, then, with a graceful motion, gestures toward the exit. "Go on, then. Enjoy the celebration. Or hide from it. Whichever suits you."

I snort. "Yeah, yeah." With one last glance at the roaring stadium, I stretch my legs and start making my way out.

I make my way down from Celestia's private booth, weaving through the cloud-formed stadium with ease. The sound of the roaring crowd still fills the air, but the moment of excitement has passed—now it's just celebration.

As I approach the rest of the group, I barely get a chance to open my mouth before Rainbow Dash practically crashes into me, grinning ear to ear. "Did youseethat?! I just pulled off aSonic Rainboom!" She hovers midair, practically vibrating with excitement.

I smirk. "Oh yeah, I saw. Hard to miss when you explode the sky."

Applejack tips her hat with a proud smile. "That was some mighty fine flyin', sugarcube. Didn't think we'd ever see another Rainboom, but dang if you didn't prove us wrong."

Pinkie Pie is bouncing in place, her energy somehowmorethan usual. "It was AMAZING! BOOM! WHOOSH! SPARKLE! And then you justcaught Raritylike 'I gotcha!' and she was all 'Oh, my hero!' and—" Pinkie gasps dramatically. "You're gonna befamous!"

Rarity, who has somehow composed herself after the trauma offalling from the sky, lets out an elegant huff. "Yes, well, I do suppose itwasquite the daring rescue. Thank you again, Rainbow Dash. You truly saved my life." She flips her mane dramatically, as if she planned the entire thing.

Dash puffs up, practically glowing. "Yeah, well, y'know. Iamthe best."

I chuckle. "Well, congrats, Dash. Looks like you just got yourself a golden ticket to the Wonderbolts."

Rainbow grins even wider—if that's possible—before narrowing her eyes at me. "Wait a sec. Wherewereyou? You disappeared after we got here, andnowyou just casually show up again?"

Before I can answer, Twilight chimes in with a pointed, unimpressed look. "Oh, I'll tell you where he was.In Celestia's personal booth."

The group goes silent for a moment.

Pinkie gasps. "Ooooooh, fancy."

Rarity's eyes widen. "Youditchedus for royalty?"

Applejack snorts. "Figures. Kinetic's too good to sit with us regular ponies."

I groan. "Oh, come on. It's not like Ichoseto go up there. I tried to ignore her, but then she sent guards."

Twilight crosses her hooves, unimpressed. "Right. And I suppose you had no choice but entertain her too? She only gets that look when she's having fun."

I smirk. "Hey, don't blame me if Celestia actuallylikesmy company."

Twilight grinds her teeth. "You—!Ugh!"

Rainbow shakes her head with a grin. "You're the weirdest Archmage I've ever met."

Pinkie gasps again, throwing her hooves in the air. "Wait, how many Archmages have you met?"

Rainbow pauses. "...Just him."

"Exactly," I say with a smirk.

Twilight groans louder. "Can we please just get back to celebrating Rainbow Dash before I lose my mind?"

I chuckle and raise a hoof in surrender. "Fine, fine. Let's celebrate the real hero today."

Rainbow Dash grins, looping a hoof around my neck and pulling me into a side hug. "Now that's more like it."

The celebration continues for a while longer, with Rainbow Dash soaking in every bit of praise and admiration she can get. Ponies are practically lining up to congratulate her, and the Wonderbolts are clearly taking notice. Pinkie Pie somehow manages to pull party supplies from somewhere, and before long, there's an impromptu mini-party happening right there in the stands.

Even Twilight—who had been grumbling about my very important Celestia meeting—loosens up and enjoys herself.

But then, Twilight suddenly stiffens, her eyes widening in realization. "Oh no."

Applejack glances at her, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong, sugarcube?"

Twilight looks at the clouds beneath her hooves. "My spell is starting to wear off! We need to get back to the balloon before anypony starts falling!"

The others immediately react with urgency.

Rarity lets out a dramatic gasp. "Falling?!Twilight,darling,donotsay such things so casually!"

Applejack frowns. "Alright, everypony, let's move before we go right through these here clouds."

Pinkie just giggles. "Oh, that would besosilly! One second, we're standing here, and then—" She makes a whistling noise and flails her hooves like she's plummeting.

"Pinkie!" Twilight shrieks, already ushering everypony toward the balloon.

I, of course, pretend to be in a hurry, but really, I could walk around Cloudsdale all day and be fine. Still, I play along, making a show of carefully stepping over the clouds.

Rarity, whose enchanted wings had burned away during the competition, now had Twilight's cloud-walking spell cast on her instead. "Twilight, Iwouldappreciate a warning when you place my life in danger with atemporaryspell!"

Twilight sighs, ushering everypony faster. "Itoldyou before we came here that it wouldn't last forever!"

Rarity scoffs. "I assumed you had accounted for that!"

"Idid!That's why we'releaving now!And I just cast yours. You're fine."

We hurry through Cloudsdale, and I keep an eye on the others while subtly maintaining my own 'cloud-walking'.

Rainbow Dash flies ahead, checking the way is clear. "Balloon's still where we left it! Hurry up!"

The others rush to the hot air balloon, and Twilight double-checks everypony before they climb inside. I step in last, watching her count us with a muttered checklist under her breath.

She exhales in relief once we're all aboard. "Okay. We made it."

Rarity lets out a breath of her own. "Finally. I amnevertrusting experimental wings again."

Pinkie gasps. "But they were so pretty!"

Rarity pouts, touching her mane. "Yes, but not worth falling to my untimely demise."

Applejack chuckles, settling into the balloon's basket. "Well, Ah'd say we had ourselves an adventure."

Twilight nods, still slightly frazzled. "Yeah. Let's just get back home before I have to explain why a group of earth ponies and unicorns fell through Cloudsdale."

Rainbow Dash leans against the basket, wings spread comfortably. "Eh, I coulda caught you guys. Probably."

Twilight gives her an unimpressed look. "Not helping."

I smirk. "Well, I dunno, Twilight. I thought today went pretty well."

She glares at me suspiciously. "You didn'tdoanything."

I raise an eyebrow. "Exactly."

Twilight narrows her eyes, like she knows I'm hiding something, but before she can press the issue, the balloon gently begins its descent toward Ponyville.

I relax, watching Cloudsdale fade into the sky behind us.

One more ridiculous day survived.

The balloon ride back to Ponyville is, thankfully, uneventful. By the time we touch down, everypony seems eager to return to their usual routines—except for Rainbow Dash, who is still riding the high of her Sonic Rainboom. She's practically bouncing in the air, already talking about how she's gonna tell everypony in town, "in detail," about how she totally saved the day.

Twilight is still side-eyeing me, probably still trying to figure out if I had done anything "suspicious" during the whole Cloudsdale trip. She doesn't press the issue, though, much to my relief.

After splitting off from the group, I head back to my house—where, for the first time in a while, nothing happens. No royal summons, no magical catastrophes, no Twilight Sparkle breaking into my home for a lecture.

Just… quiet.

I make some tea, sit down, and enjoy a rare moment of peace.

It lasts for about an hour.

Then, a knock at the door.

I sigh.Of course.

When I open it, I find Rarity standing there, looking as elegant as always, a polite smile on her face. "Ah, Kinetic! So glad to see you home."

I raise an eyebrow, blocking the way in. "Rarity. What brings you to my incredibly normal, not-at-all-mysterious doorstep?"

She waves a hoof. "Oh, just a small matter! I wanted to personally invite you to an event tomorrow evening."

I lean against the doorframe. "An event?"

"Yes, dear. The Ponyville Schoolhouse is hosting its annual Talent Show for the fillies and colts. Sweetie Belle will be performing, and she wouldabsolutely lovefor you to attend."

I blink. "Sweetie Belle's in a talent show?"

Rarity nods proudly. "Oh, yes! She and her little friends have been workingveryhard on their act."

"And you're inviting me… because?"

Rarity tilts her head. "Why, becauseyou're her magic teacher, of course."

I stare at her. "I… what."

She smiles. "You've beensuchan inspiration to her. Why, she speaks of you all the time! 'Kinetic this, Kinetic that—did you know that atoms are always moving, even when things look still?' It'sadorable."

I blink, suddenly stiffening. "…She remembered that huh?"

I hope Rarity doesn't know what those words mean.

"Indeed!" she says cheerfully. "Which is why I simplymustinsist that you attend. It wouldmean the worldto her."

I glance at the sky, thinking. A school talent show? Not exactly my scene. But then again… Sweetie Bellehasbeen genuinely excited about everything I've taught her—fake magic or not. I can't exactly crush a filly's enthusiasm, especially when it's aimed at actual learning.

"…Alright," I say finally, sighing. "I'll go."

Rarity beams. "Marvelous! I knew you wouldn't disappoint."

I groan. "This isn't a big thing, right? Like, I don't have to dress up or anything?"

She gasps, scandalized. "Darling!One shouldalwaysdress appropriately for an occasion! Today is a wonderful opportunity to spend the day together getting you an outfit."

I shrug. "Oh, uh, that's fine. I'll just wear the suit I bought with Twilight."

For a brief moment, Rarity's expression freezes, her eyes widening just a fraction before she smooths it over with a well-practiced smile. "Ah. I see."

I blink. "What?"

She tucks a stray curl behind her ear, her smile still perfectly intact—but there's something just alittletoo practiced about it. "Oh, nothing, dear. I just wasn't aware that you… had already acquired a suit."

I nod. "Yeah. Twilight insisted I get one during that whole 'teaching me how to be a real pony' thing."

"Twilightinsisted," she repeats, her voice light, but there's something behind it.

I tilt my head. "Yeah?"

She lets out a perfectly measured hum, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she smiles again. "Of course. That makesperfectsense."

I stare at her. "Rarity."

"Yes, darling?" she says sweetly.

"Are you mad I didn't askyoufor a suit?"

She lets out an exaggerated laugh, waving a hoof dramatically. "Mad? Oh, heavens no! Whyeverwould I be mad?" She places a hoof over her chest, her voice taking on a faintly dramatic lilt. "It's not as if making refined, elegant attire is myliteral profession!Nor is it as if I take greatpridein crafting the finest suits in all of Equestria!"

I open my mouth, but she isn't done.

"Oh, no no, darling, I understandcompletely!Why, if I were in your position, I too would obviously seek the fashion expertise of abookish academicinstead of aprofessional designer!Why settle forperfectionwhen you can have something…practical?"

I sigh. "Youaremad."

She turns her nose up. "I am merely…disappointed."

I groan, rubbing my forehead. "Rarity, it's just a suit. It wasn't a big deal."

She gasps, placing a hoof to her forehead like she's about to faint. "Just a suit?Just a suit?!" She dramatically turns away, her voice filled with feigned agony. "Oh, thetragedy!"

I roll my eyes. "Alright, fine. Next time I need fancy clothes, I'll come to you."

She flips her mane, suddenly absolutely fine. "See? Was that so hard, darling?"

I sigh again. "Yes. I hate when you guilt trip."

She giggles. "Oh, Ilovethat I do."

I shake my head, a smirk tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous."

Rarity smirks, but there's still something behind it—somethingelseshe isn't saying. I can see it in the slight tension in her shoulders, the way she's avoiding looking at me too directly. Something's bugging her.

I debate pushing the topic, but she quickly regains her usual grace, lifting her head with a polite smile. "Well! I shall see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, yeah. See you then."

She gives a final nod and trots off, her tail flicking just a little too sharply. I watch her go, rubbing the back of my neck.

I sigh, shaking my head as I watch the door click shut behind Rarity.

That was... something.

Whatever. Not my problem right now.

I glance toward the kitchen and grimace. Twilight's fury still lingers in my mind, and despite every fiber of my being screaming at me to just eat out again, I know that's not an option. If she catches me skipping a home-cooked meal after everything, she'll probably set up a magical alarm system in my kitchen just to monitor me.

Grumbling, I drag myself toward the stove, eyeing the cursed sack of hay I bought with a deep sense of regret.

With the precision of a pony on death row preparing his last meal, I toss a portion into the pot, adding just enough seasonings and vegetables to make it not taste like dried grass. I stir it with half-hearted effort, staring blankly at the bubbling pot.

Cooking hay.

This is my life now.

After what feels like an eternity of suffering, I plate my meal and take a bite. It's… tolerable. Not great, but not awful. I chew slowly, wondering if this is what surrender tastes like.

At least Twilight won't strangle me in my sleep.

Once I finish, I clean up—begrudgingly, of course—and shuffle off to my room. The events of the day catch up to me all at once, exhaustion settling into my bones.

I flop onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow is the talent show.

Sweetie Belle's excited.

Rarity's acting odd.

Twilight's still probably plotting ways to turn me into a responsible pony.

I sigh, closing my eyes. Tomorrow's going to be another long one.

With that thought, I drift into sleep.

 

[BlackCoat13]

Are you just cross-posting it or are you going to resume writing this?

 

[Riddlest]

Are you just cross-posting it or are you going to resume writing this?

Click to shrink...

may continue, am writing a Justice League fanfic, Dumpstat Healer, rn

 

[TheFabulousCustodes]

Watching Twilight try to fix his lifestyle is great entertainment.

Thanks for the chapters!

 

[fmriver]

I'm really enjoying this fic. I didn't realize this was a cross post till just now.

I actually found it from reading your DC fic 'dumpster healer' and then going on your QQ profile to see what else you've written. I like the quality of the work

 

[JustAreader]

this is crossposted from where???

 

[Riddlest]

this is crossposted from where???

Click to shrink...

fimfiction, its on the story description. you have to enable mature to see it tho.