Shadow of the Dragon Lords

D. G. D. Davidson

My Little Pony is © 2012 by Hasbro, Inc.

Chapter 5: Severin Arrives

Pinkie Pie marched to the edge of town where Cranky Doodle and Matilda Donkey lived in their little cottage, and banged furiously on the door. "Cranky!" she shouted. "Matilda! I have to talk to you!"

Matilda opened the door and Pinkie, who had still been pounding on it, fell flat on her face on the threshold.

"Pinkie Pie?" Matilda asked. "What's the matter?"

Pinkie raised her head and said, "I need you to explain this 'peace and quiet' thing to me again."

"Come in, dear."

A few minutes later, Pinkie was sitting in the Donkeys' living room with a cup of tea on the coffee table before her. The room was pleasantly shabby, decorated with the bric-a-brac Cranky had picked up during his long, lonely travels. The Donkeys themselves, married now for almost a year thanks largely to Pinkie's good-natured meddling, sat across from her. Cranky was still wearing the blond pompadour-shaped toupee Pinkie had bought him, and Matilda was heavily and happily pregnant.

As patiently as he could (which wasn't very), Cranky tried to explain certain concepts that Pinkie had difficulty wrapping her head around.

"Some ponies just prefer, erm, calm," Cranky said in his gravelly voice.

"Isn't that boring?" Pinkie asked, her front hooves pressed to her head in a show of concentration.

"Not to those who like it."

"Not everypony can enjoy a wild party, dear," Matilda added.

"Especially donkeys," Cranky said. "Best thing for a donkey in Equestria is to keep his head down, mind his own business, work hard, and thank Celestia he has it as good as he does. Best thing for everypony, really."

Pinkie dropped her hooves. "Wait? Why donkeys especially?"

With a small smile, Matilda cleared her throat and said, "This might be hard for you to understand, Pinkie, dear, since you like everypony, but . . . well, a lot of ponies aren't too fond of donkeys."

Pinkie stomped her front hooves on the floor. "What?"

Cranky chuckled. "Remember when Princess Celestia started inviting donkeys to the Grand Galloping Gala? A lot of the upper-class Unicorns said they wouldn't come."

"That changed when Fancypants told everypony he was still going, though," Matilda said.

"Yeah, Fancypants has always been a good guy. Remembers where he came from, I suppose."

"Wait," Pinkie said, twisting her head back and forth as she tried to grasp what Cranky and Matilda were saying, "some ponies don't like donkeys? Why?"

"Oh, donkeys don't have it nearly as bad as mules," Matilda said, lost in her own thoughts now. "Why, my older brother Stephen married a pony mare, and their son Eldred had the hardest time finding work when he grew up. Ponies are always saying mules are ugly. And stubborn. That's what everypony told Eldred when he tried to get a job. Didn't want to work with no stubborn mule, they said. It's ridiculous, too: why, every mule I've ever known was a hardier, stronger, and better worker than any pony. Or donkey, for that matter."

"It's a good thing they live in Fillydelphia," said Cranky. "If a donkey married a pony in someplace like Dodge Junction, he'd likely get attacked with pies or something."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Matilda said. "You always exaggerate, Cranky."

"I don't exaggerate. You never know what those settler ponies are capable of. Didn't you hear about Apple-loosa and the buffalo?" Cranky tapped a hoof. "Who knows? Maybe all those murdered Unicorns they've been finding were married to donkeys."

"Now you're being silly. And I hear the Apple-loosans get along with the buffalo just fine."

"I'm not so sure I approve of this cross-breeding myself, though," Cranky mused. "Mules, you know, they have a . . . uh, well, a health problem."

"Cranky!"

"It's true."

Matilda scowled and turned away from him. "You've never liked my brother or his family."

"I do like them!" Cranky protested. "I only said mules have a health problem, is all! Don't you care that your nephew will never be able to have children of his own?"

"That's no reason to go criticizing my brother."

"I didn't say anything bad about your brother."

Matilda was about to answer when she noticed Pinkie's face going through a series of bizarre contortions while her coat changed from pink to red. Pinkie jumped up onto her hind hooves. "Are . . . are you saying . . . are . . . ?"

"Oh, dear, calm down, Pinkie," Matilda said. "Some folk just have trouble getting used to other folk. You remember how everypony had a hard time getting to know Zecora, don't you?"

"That's it!" Pinkie shouted. "I get it! They don't want me to meet the ambassador because they don't want him to feel welcome because they don't like him because he's not a pony!"

"What?" Cranky asked. "What ambassador? What are you talking about?"

Without so much as a goodbye, Pinkie sped out the door.

Cranky rose to his hooves. "I better go after her. If I know anything about that pony, she's headed for some kind of disaster."

Severin had been curious to meet Luna, so he was more than pleased when Celestia told him the Princess of the Night would accompany him to Ponyville. He knew the bare outlines of Luna's story, though he was unclear on how, exactly, the former Night Mare Moon had transformed back into her old self.

From her silver throne, which now sat beside Celestia's golden one, Luna gave him the elaborate formal greeting that no ambassador had heard in generations, and he replied with all the proper responses, though he was unable entirely to hide his amusement as he did so.

Having finished the royal greeting, Luna descended. Severin knelt and kissed her hoof, but then stood and placed a hand on her withers; this was the ancient practice of the dragons' ambassadors when greeting a princess: a show of self-abasement followed by a show of close familiarity. Celestia considered such rites a nuisance, but Luna was a natural at them.

Luna observed that Severin, though clearly both intelligent and well trained for his role, had a faint hint of arrogance as well as some more violent emotion lurking behind his carefully composed face and smooth manners. She also noticed the way his eyes roved unchivalrously over her points.

For his part, Severin was a skilled horseman back in Draconium where horses were unmagical and didn't talk, and he couldn't help but size up Equestria's natives. Most of the ponies, with their short, stocky bodies, were not to his liking, but he could appreciate the graceful Celestia as a fine mare, and could tell that Luna, too, who already stood over fourteen hands high (and was therefore, by his standards, not really a pony), would be just as impressive when she was full-grown, if not moreso. To his eyes, she looked built for running, though she also had the tautly muscled neck common to Unicorns trained in the traditional fighting arts. He had to resist the urge to closely inspect her cannons or look in her mouth.

They walked together through the palace toward the high front gates, his hand still between her shoulders.

"We see that thou wearest a sword, Ambassador."

"I do, Your Highness."

"Hast thou skill with it?"

"Some have said so, though I confess that most of them are dead."

Luna laughed.

"Am I remiss in thinking you a fencer, Your Highness?"

"We had noticed that thou wast observant, Ambassador."

"Many apologies. You know horses are different in my homeland."

"Of course. We have not fenced in a long while, however. Few Unicorns today, alas, know the art."

Severin gazed at her long, exquisite horn and wondered how it would feel to cross his blade with it. "Perhaps we should have a bout."

"Perhaps we shall, but business before pleasure."

He followed her out of Canterlot Castle to where her black chariot was waiting, already hitched by heavy chains to her bat-winged Pegasi. Moondancer, standing in the chariot, knelt as Luna approached.

"We hope thou wilt not take it amiss if our protégé accompanieth us."

"Of course not."

"Moondancer, this is Ambassador Severin. Ambassador, this is Moondancer, a pupil in the School for Gifted Unicorns."

Severin took one of Moondancer's hooves and kissed it, thinking to himself that he was kissing an awful lot of hoof on this trip. "Charmed," he said.

"Likewise," Moondancer answered.

Luna and Severin both pulled the hoods of their traveling cloaks over their heads. The chariot took off from Canterlot, and a great, black storm cloud rolled after it, shooting lightning over the land below. The rushing wind and the peals of thunder were so loud as to make conversation impossible, so Severin merely watched Luna, who, with eyes aglow, stood behind the reins with a fierce expression on her shadowed face. So this was how the Princess of the Night traveled! No wonder the ponies quaked in their bell boots whenever she approached.

Severin glanced at Moondancer. She was apparently enjoying the ride, her red mane whipping in the wind. He was impressed that Luna's display didn't cow her.

As they neared the end of their journey, the sun set, the sky turned red, and the trail of clouds behind the chariot glowed like flame. The lightning became less frequent and the thunder died down, so speaking became possible. Luna turned to Severin and said, "If thou wilt excuse us, we must raise the moon."

"Of course, Your Highness. I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your royal duty."

Luna's traveling cloak burst into a cloud of black bats. With the bats circling her, she spread her great wings and rose into the air, a white flame shooting from her horn. Severin watched as the moon, almost full and tinted orange, rose in the east. When it cleared the horizon, Luna lowered back into the chariot and the horde of bats reassembled at her shoulders.

Severin grinned. In truth, he didn't much like ponies, but he had to admit they had their charms, and this Luna was plainly an impressive lady. Sometimes, he could almost wish these mares were women.

He shook his head to remove that thought, and he laughed at himself. Clearly, he'd been away from home too long.

"I am the first ambassador of Draconium to see that in over a millennium," he said, "and it was amazing. Thank you."

"Thou flatterest us."

"Of course I do. But Equestria for a thousand years has had only one goddess. How do the ponies handle two?"

Luna scowled and glanced askance at him. "Goddess?"

"Of course. Of all the peoples in the wide world, only the ponies have no cult, and the reason why is obvious: they worship no gods because their god lives among them. High in their capitol is an immortal who controls the sun. They swear by her, too. I've heard them: 'By Celestia,' they say, or 'As Celestia is my witness.' They say that even when Celestia can't possibly be witnessing them. When a pony says 'princess,' he plainly means 'goddess.' And this worship extends outside your land, too. After all, all peoples everywhere, not just the ponies, rely on the steady cycle of day and night. As far away as Pixieland, they have an expression that goes, 'Celestia makes her sun to shine on both the evil and the good.' In Demonland, they have statues of both of you at crossroads, before which travelers prostrate themselves. Mind you, the images don't look quite like ponies, but they're called Celestia and Luna, and they are idols to the goddesses of sun and moon."

Luna, the scowl still on her face, watched the darkening land below as it sped beneath the chariot, dissolving into the black distance behind. "In former times, all the Unicorns together united their power twice daily to both bring and banish night. It was arduous and dangerous, and some Unicorns would perish when the trial of this magic overwhelmed them. After Celestia and I descended, we took this task on our own withers and freed the Unicorns of a dire burden, but it was not until Discord beseteth the land, and we defeated him, that the ponies desired to declare us queens. Celestia did that title refuseth, taking the name of princess only, so that she might never become too haughty, nor forget compassion."

Proudly, Luna looked Severin in the eye. "We have never taken the name of goddess."

"Take whatever name you like," Severin answered, "but that doesn't change what you are. A ruler is a queen, not a princess, no matter what she calls herself. A queen with absolute power and no subordinates worth mentioning is an autocrat or a despot. An immortal who moves the heavens is a goddess. So your sister is a despotic goddess, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Why debate we definitions, Ambassador?"

"Because for a millennium, the ponies have believed in a benevolent goddess in Canterlot and a devil, dangerous but distant, in the moon. 'Celestia's in her palace and all's right with the world,' as they say. But now the devil is loose and claims to be reformed. How do the ponies react?"

Luna looked away from him again and gazed at the stars overhead. "Some fear us. Some mistrust us." She paused a moment. "But some seem to like us."

"Because of your antics on Nightmare Night?"

Luna started.

Severin laughed. "Ah! I see from your reaction that the rumor's true. A pity. You are mistress of the moon, but you've let the ponies reduce you to a circus freak."

"Thou hast given insult, Ambassador."

"So I have. My apologies, Your Highness. I should not speak so freely, but it hurts my heart to see a deity fall."

Though his words cut her, Luna grinned in spite of herself. "And what if we be not a deity, but a devil, as thou sayest?"

"In that case, I applaud your game. Like any good devil, you'll lull them into thinking you harmless, and then you'll strike."

"Say, rather, 'like any bad devil.' For how can a devil be good?"

"Just so, Your Highness. A good devil is a bad devil, for if he be good, then he's bad at being a devil."

"We hope thy sword is sharper than thy wit, Ambassador. We intend to hold thee to that promise of a bout."

"I made no promise, Your Highness, but I eagerly anticipate the fulfillment of the promise I didn't make."

"Be warned, we tend to draw blood when we touch."

"I've left blood before on swords, claws, teeth, and horn. I'm none the worse for losing it, though those who've dared to take it have found it dear."

"If thy fight is as mighty as thy talk, thou wilt be indeed a worthy opponent."

"A moment ago, you said my wit was dull. If my talk is mighty, but my wit dull, then my wit must be a club with which I may bludgeon an unwitting conversationalist."

"Then thou art an ungentle cur, Ambassador, for if thou usest even a dull wit on the unwitting, thou drawest a weapon against the unarmed."

"Ah! So I do. Touché, Your Highness, and I am no gentleman."

Moondancer listened silently through all of this and chewed her lower lip. She wanted Luna to be a devil. Already, Luna had given her a taste of the ancient lore in the moldering books on the dusty shelves of her dark chamber, and Moondancer wanted more of it. Moondancer really was a brilliant student; she had already nearly mastered Luna's cipher, and she had already deciphered the titles of a few of Luna's grimoires: they included books that probably existed nowhere else in the world, and hadn't for hundreds of years. Luna's library contained such monstrous titles as Witch-Cult of Western Equestria, De Equus Mysteriis, and Unaussprechlichen Pferde. But chief among them was the dreaded Equinomicon, which legend made the most potent and horrible of all tomes of forbidden pony magic.

Moondancer was an exceptional Unicorn. She was the top student in every class she took . . . unless, of course, Twilight Sparkle was in the same class. She excelled in academics, yet what she truly craved was not learning, but power, a power she could never grasp with the conventional, safe, controlled methods of modern Unicorn magic. It was the wild magic of the elder days she craved, the power Unicorns once wielded in Equestria's dim past before the advent of the princesses, when they were strong enough to raise and lower the sun and moon themselves. Moondancer was willing even to explore the mumblings and peepings of the lawless Witch-Ponies, who had reveled in worship of Night Mare Moon and drunk the blood of foals so that they might call up devils and commune with the dead. Indeed, even that might be too little for her: if it were possible, she would seize even the abilities of the infamous Chaoticists, those strange and dangerous beings who, so legend told, appeared every few hundred years among the Earth Ponies, and who could warp the very fabric of reality itself.

In Ponyville, the Cakes were nearly frantic. Not only had they been asked to cater a surprise event right after Nightmare Night had depleted their stock, but they couldn't find Pinkie Pie anywhere, which meant both that they were missing an assistant and that there was nopony to babysit little Pumpkin and Pound.

The two baby ponies were a little under a year old, so they were now rambunctious foals-at-foot, getting into everything as they followed their dam while she scurried around the kitchen. Cup Cake was just preparing to frost a cooled batch of cupcakes when she looked up in dismay to see little Pumpkin Cake with her head in the bowl of icing.

"No, Pumpkin!" Cup Cake cried. She pulled the foal out of the bowl and tried in vain to wipe the frosting from her face. "By all the peppermint sticks in Equestria, can't you two sit still?"

Pound Cake flapped his little wings, flew up to the ceiling, and then dropped down onto the tray of fresh cupcakes, splattering them. After he landed, Pound blinked in surprise and started bawling.

Carrot Cake galloped through the kitchen door and jumped back and forth between his four hooves in impatience. "Are we ready to go, Honeybun?"

"Well, the last batch of cupcakes is ruined, if-"

"No time! No time!" Carrot cried. "The princess and the ambassador just arrived!"

Cup Cake blanched so that her blue coat almost turned white. "Princess Celestia is here too? This is terrible! We'll be-"

"Worse! It's Luna! Come on, Sweetcakes!"

They pushed what they had managed to prepare in the short time allotted out into the front room, where Applejack, who had offered to help, was setting a long banquet table with apple pies, apple fritters, and other goods she'd prepared at the farm. She was currently gripping in her teeth a bowl full of husked corn. When Carrot and Cup Cake appeared, she dropped the bowl on the table and asked, "Can this here ambassador feller eat corn?"

"Oh, I don't know, dear," Cup Cake said as she helped Carrot lay out cookies and cakes. "But they say he can't eat grass. If he can't eat grass, I don't see how he could eat corn."

"Good point," Applejack said, picking up the bowl again. "I'll just tuck this in th' kitchen, if'n y'all don't mind."

"If he can't eat grass, how can he eat cake?" Carrot asked. "We make it from grain."

"Corn's a grain, I reckon," Applejack said. "I'll just put this back down, then." She dropped the bowl back on the table.

"Aren't grains just kinds of grass?" Cup Cake asked.

"Well, in that case-" Applejack picked up the bowl.

"They're the seeds, Honeybun," Carrot said. "So maybe he can eat seeds but can't eat the rest of it."

Applejack put the bowl down again. "Eats the seeds but not the stalks? That's a waste. This poor feller must have more stomach problems'n a rheumy hound dog on a month-old carcass."

"Oh, Applejack, dear," said Cup Cake, wrinkling her muzzle, "that's disgusting!"

Cup Cake was distracted when she saw Pound and Pumpkin crawling their way out from under the saloon-style kitchen door. She ran over to pick them up.

"Hey, y'all need someone t' watch th' foals?" Applejack asked.

"Oh, goodness yes," Cup Cake said through the teeth she had clenched around Pumpkin's diaper. "We can't find Pinkie Pie anywhere."

"Well, shoot, I ain't too good with these hoity-toity get-togethers. Maybe I'll just take the tikes off o' your hooves for a few hours. Gives me a good excuse t' skedaddle."

"Applejack, you're a lifesaver." Cup Cake swiftly fitted Applejack with her saddlebag-style foal-carrier and set the babies in it. "Now, I made a to-do list for Pinkie earlier. It's taped upstairs on the nursery door. Try to tuck them in at a decent hour, and keep a close eye on little Pumpkin. She's started crib-biting."

"Don't y'all worry none," Applejack said. "Me an' Big Macintosh practically reared our little sister ourselves after our sire an' dam died. I got plenty of experience with little fillies, an' I figger Pound here won't give me nothin' this old mare can't handle, neither."

She trotted through the kitchen and went upstairs.

Cup Cake and Carrot Cake breathed a sigh of relief, but they didn't have time to relax: at that moment, Mayor Mare, looking exceptionally nervous, trotted in and then stood to the side to make room for the eminent guests.

Princess Luna and Ambassador Severin entered first, closely followed by Moondancer. After them entered Twilight Sparkle and Spike, followed by Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and a few other ponies. Everypony in the party looked decidedly uncomfortable.

When Cup Cake saw Luna, her heart leapt into her throat, but when she saw Severin, it dropped down into her front hooves. She had been told he wouldn't be a pony, but she hadn't expected him to be such a grotesque monstrosity. It was as if someone had taken his body and tilted it up on end, twisting his limbs all out of joint in the process. The way he walked was simultaneously comical and hideous: he threw one leg forward, putting himself precariously off-balance, and then when that leg landed, he threw the other leg after it. Worst of all, his hocks pointed the wrong way, so watching his legs bend made her cringe. When he stopped walking and stood still, she expected him to fall over. How he kept his balance was a mystery.

Of course, she reflected, Spike also walked on his hind legs, but at least he had his center of gravity low to the ground.

When Severin drew closer, Cup Cake noticed his objectionable odor, and she had to struggle to avoid wrinkling her snout.

Severin either didn't notice anything amiss, or else he pretended not to notice. He bowed at the waist, and Cup Cake sucked in her breath. She was certain that motion must defy a few laws of physics.

"You must be Mr. and Mrs. Cake," Severin said after he righted himself. "You have my deepest thanks for preparing such a feast for us on such short notice."

"Oh, oh my," Cup Cake said, suddenly flustered. "Why, it was nothing-"

He took one of her front hooves and bowed his face toward it before turning back to his makeshift entourage. Cup Cake blushed scarlet.

"I must say," Severin said, "this unexpected journey is a great boon to me, however much it must disrupt the routine of these ponies, for it gives me the opportunity to experience the hospitalities of villages even outside Canterlot. A true privilege."

Twilight, who was acting unusually nervous, said, "Well, you must be hungry after that trip. I think Applejack and the Cakes have found something here you can eat."

"Thank you," he said.

Carrot Cake was jittery as he pulled out chairs for Luna, Spike, Twilight, Moondancer, and Severin at a large table set up in a corner of the room. The seats were built for ponies, so when Severin sat in his, he found his head almost level with the tabletop. He didn't mention it, however.

Carrot Cake offered him a glass of sarsaparilla, and he took it with a smile. Behind the smile, however, he was wondering if he could avoid drinking it without insulting his hosts; he knew sarsaparilla was a delicacy to the ponies, but he had tried it before and found it revolting.

Hastily prepared as it was, and with only vague instructions from Celestia, the spread was unusually mean: The Cakes and Applejack had put together some bowls of fruit, some trays of cookies, a few pies, a few cakes, and little else. With polished manners, Severin accepted everything he was served. He had already prepared himself for the food he was likely to get in Ponyville: Equestria's fare was never to his liking, but at least Celestia had learned over time to go to great lengths to accommodate the tastes of Draconium's ambassadors. The Ponyvillains, on the other hand, knew nothing of a human's diet. He was well aware that ponies somehow managed to subsist on almost nothing but hay, fruit, and confections, so, as he had expected they would, they simply served him the fruit and confections minus the hay. He ate the fruit happily enough, but wondered if he could politely avoid the nauseatingly sweet desserts.

The dragons were harsh masters, and their own appetites ran to things even more inedible than what the ponies ate, but at least they knew how to feed their slaves: Severin was never short of meat on the rare occasions when he was at home. At the moment, he thought he might be willing to give up his sword arm for a tankard of mead and a cut of the cold chine.

After the meal was well underway and Severin had devoured two apples, core and all, Twilight cleared her throat.

"So," she asked, "how are things in Draconium?"

Severin gave her a smile containing a hint of condescension. "The seven dragon lords still sit at the stone table, Miss Sparkle."

She nodded. "Oh. Well. That's, um, a good thing, isn't it?"

"Opinions differ."

"Ah."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Among the great lords, of course, is my master, Lord Foulsbereth, the father of Master Spike."

Spike coughed and nearly upset his glass of sarsaparilla.

Twilight laughed nervously. "So, what about you? Are you, uh, married? Have any children?"

Severin's face was an unreadable mask as he answered. "Because the dragons consider me to be of exceptionally good stock, they have on six occasions permitted me to breed. I was, of course, never again allowed to see the wenches on whom I sired my issue, nor was I allowed to see the children themselves, who would have been ripped away from their mothers immediately after birth and brought to the House of Rearing to be given to the wet nurses. The dragons so train us that we have none of the familial ties or foolish sentiments that cloud the minds of other species."

There was a longer, even more uncomfortable silence.

Severin finally broke the silence himself. "Miss Sparkle, Princess Celestia tells me you are her personal protégé, and that you were assigned to be Master Spike's teacher because of your exceptional talents."

"Well, yes. He's been my assistant since I joined the school in Canterlot."

"I assume you've taught him history and political theory."

Twilight glanced at Spike, who so far had been too nervous to contribute to the conversation. "Well, I've given him a lot of books on the subjects-"

"Excellent," Severin said. "The time must be approaching when he will mature. He'll begin hoarding things and will lose his powers of reason, of course; that's the sign that a dragon is entering adolescence. Then it will be time to bring a new egg to Canterlot and to send Spike home to Draconium where he will grow to adulthood and his mind will return. After that, he will complete his training under his own father." Severin looked at Spike and frowned. "In fact, he's old enough, I'm surprised he hasn't begun to mature already."

Twilight and Spike glanced at each other again.

Finally, Spike spoke. "Um, Ambassador-"

"Master Spike," Severin said, "forgive me for interrupting, but you are a dragon and I am a human. I cannot bear to hear you address me by my title."

"Oh. Well, okay, Severin-"

"Master," Severin said, interrupting again, "dragons never address humans by titles or names. I must ask you to call me 'it,' 'thing,' or 'creature.' This is the tradition between our two peoples."

Luna, who had been silent through the whole exchange, pounded a hoof on the floor and turned on Severin. "He shall not," she said. "He shall address thee politely."

"He is your hostage," Severin answered, "but not your slave. He will do as the traditions of Draconium require, and not as the effeminate pony manners dictate. Master Spike, you must not treat me as if I were a person. I am your thing. You could rip my throat out with your claws and no dragon would consider it a crime."

"Here it would be murder," Luna answered. "Thou goest too far, Ambassador, and we know thou art trying to provoke us."

"I'm really not interested in ripping anypony's throat," Spike said, laughing forcedly and then stopping abruptly when he saw that nopony was laughing with him. "But, Am- I mean, Sev- I mean . . . I want to ask, what would happen if I, well, you know, just decided not to hoard stuff?"

Severin frowned. "I do not understand."

"You said I'd hoard stuff when I start growing up. What if I just didn't?"

Severin laughed. "Master Spike, don't be concerned if you're a late bloomer. You'll begin hoarding soon."

"I mean, what if I decided not to?"

"Master, it's part of how you grow. You can't help it."

"But if I did?"

Severin shrugged. "I've never heard of such a thing, but I suppose you'd be a baby forever. You needn't worry about that, though."

Spike, a worried frown on his face, sank in his chair and contemplated.

He didn't have long to think about the matter, however: almost as soon as Spike sank into a moody silence, Pinkie Pie burst through the front door and shouted, "If this is a consular party, where is the ambassador?"

Before anypony could react, she jumped back outside and pushed her welcome wagon into the room; being too large for the door, it shattered the doorframe.

Carrot Cake turned frantic. "Pinkie Pie? Where have you been? And what are you doing?"

The room was in instant uproar. Pinkie jumped onto the top of her wagon and scanned the room. As soon as she spotted Severin, she leapt toward his table, halted suddenly in midair, and dropped right in front of him, pointing a hoof in his face. "You! You don't look like a pony!"

Severin rose to his feet and bowed slightly. "I'm not. And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"I'm Pinkie Pie, and I'm here to make sure you feel welcome!"

"I do. Thank-"

Cranky Donkey ran in through the front door. "Pinkie!" he shouted. "I found you! Now, come along, and-"

"Cranky!" Pinkie cried in glee. She backflipped into the center of the room, ran between Cranky's legs, and lifted him onto her back. Carrying him, she leapt and danced around the room, singing at the top of her lungs:

"Cranky Doodle came to town,

"Riding on a pony!

"The pony dropped him on the ground,

"And served him macaroni!"

She bucked him off her back and he landed on his haunches. Pinkie pulled a piping hot plate of macaroni and cheese, seemingly out of nowhere, and dropped it in front of him. He was too stunned to speak.

Pinkie ran to her welcome wagon and pressed a button. It sprang open, revealing an oven surrounded by a wild assortment of pipes and tubes. "Mister weird-looking ambassador guy who's not a pony," she announced, "this is for you!" Whipping out first a drum and then a trumpet, she cavorted about, singing her welcome song. Just as she finished, the oven on the wagon burst open, shooting out a cloud of hot confetti. Then the pipes blasted out a stream of cake batter that hit the ceiling and exploded into a shower, coating the entire room and everypony in it.

Pinkie stuck out her tongue and licked the batter off her face. She laughed hysterically and rolled on the floor. "Oh, wow! I have got to label the oven and the confetti cannons in pen instead of pencil! I always get them mixed up!"

Just to add to the confusion, the little Cake twins, screaming and giggling, ran out of the kitchen with Applejack close behind.

"C'mon back here, ya little varmints!" Applejack shouted.

When the babies hit the cake batter, they lost their footing and went sliding across the floor into Pinkie.

"Hey, guys!" Pinkie said. Pound Cake started kicking Pinkie's welcome wagon, and Pumpkin started gobbling cake batter from the floor.

When Applejack hit the batter, she promptly flipped over and fell onto her back.

Severin reached under his cloak and found an unsoiled kerchief. He pulled it out and wiped batter from his face. He turned to Luna, who was looking significantly less dignified now that she was covered in goo.

"I always enjoy visiting Equestria, Your Highness," Severin said. "It is certainly never dull."

Moondancer had observed quietly the whole evening, and she watched Pinkie Pie's antics with especially close interest: here was an Earth Pony with an ability to exert tremendous strength, to overcome inertia, and to pull objects out of thin air, all for the apparent purpose of causing disorder and mayhem. Could it really be that Twilight Sparkle, after all her studies, didn't realize what this pink pony was? Could it be that Luna didn't realize, either?

Moondancer watched Luna and Twilight closely. They gave no indication that they considered Pinkie anything other than an embarrassment.

But Moondancer knew better: here before her was a true Chaoticist, just as the legends described. This Pinkie Pie would be her chance to outshine Twilight Sparkle at last.

First, she became the dark princess's protégé, and then she discovered a legendary source of powerful magic. Oh, this had been a glorious day.

Next: A Nightmare Slumber Party?