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>With Celestia gone, you sink back into the plush armchair and gaze out through the window. 
>The sun is beginning to set over the palace grounds, bathing the gardens in a rosy orange glow. 
>Your hand rests on the rough fabric of the sack in your lap, and your thoughts turn over again and again, trying to make sense of it. 
>It’s bad enough that Celestia claims to have diverted the Sword from your head – with ‘the magic of friendship’, no less – but now this, too?
>The bag that Corder was carrying when he got mazed.
>It’s impossible. 
>Unless Celestia got to Corder before the Lady did, and got the bag from him – but then why didn’t she warn him away from Sigil at the same time, and spare him his eternal imprisonment?
 >Or is that assuming too much of her apparent benevolence?
>Maybe, in fact, she has no general interest in perverting the course of the Lady’s harsh justice; maybe she only helped you dodge the music because you were too important to her. 
>Although, if she could take the bag from Corder before delivering him to the Lady – for your benefit – then couldn’t she simply have cut out the middle man by taking the tears from you instead?
>Taking any benevolence on her part out of the picture, wouldn’t that have been the easiest thing to do?
>And how did it even benefit her to take the bag from Corder and give it to you? 
>Perhaps if she’d used it as a bargaining chip to get the tears – but she didn’t. 

>Nor did it seem as if she really needed any bargaining chips, and it’s hard to see how she might have thought that she would, once she had you hipped in Equestria.
>None of it makes any sense, unless you’re important to her plans for some dark reason beyond the tears she’s already taken from you. 
>As to what that might be… even speculating is enough to send you barmy. 
>The last few days have brought way too many questions and not nearly enough in the way of answers. 
>On the bright side, though… at least you have your stuff back. 
 >You run your hand over the bag and with a pointed thought it shifts, the fabric and dimensions morphing until, momentarily, the thing in your hands is a fine silken handkerchief.
>You unfold it and space twists, opening a window to somewhere else in the middle of the fabric. 
>You put a hand inside and instantly it falls upon the item you bring to mind: a tightly rolled strip of oiled leather.
>A smile comes to your face as you unroll it and cast your eyes over the gleaming contents. 
>Six brace of knives, each pair entirely and radically different, but all of them of the finest quality that half a dozen of the greatest craftsmen across the planes could produce.
>One pair wrought of blessed silver with exquisite etchings along the blades depicting hunting scenes, tempered in moonlight by an ancient Eladrin artisan in the glades of Arborea.

>One pair, dull and plain but razor sharp, beaten out of adamantite by the inhuman strength of a hulking tiefling in the black depths of one of Acheron’s great cubes.
>One pair of mithril, efreet-forged, still glowing inwardly with the searing heat of the City of Brass and ready to burst into flame at any moment.
>Another pair, of cold-forged iron, still coruscates with the lightning imbued by its djinn creator on a floating islet in the Plane of Air. 
>One pair has mercurial edges that seem to shift and ripple even as you look at them, the blades shaped in meditation over a day and a night by an Anarch of Shra’kt’lor. 
>The final pair, you are surprised that Celestia permitted you to keep. 
>The final pair was crafted of bone – what kind of bone, you preferred not to ask, and likewise it seemed wise not to enquire too deeply into the methods by which it was rendered as sharp and durable as any steel – in a profane ritual by a twisted creature in Gehenna, a creature that had once been a Yagnoloth before submitting to have its form and very essence twisted at the whim of other, stranger masters.  
>Even touching them makes your skin crawl – always has done – but… their utility is unquestionable.
>Each of these blades is woven through with layer upon layer of enchantments, each one bonded to you such that you can hurl it away and will it back to your hand with a thought. 

>Compared to these weapons, the knives that you brought with you to Equestria may as well have been toothpicks.  
>You take a minute to conceal them about your person. 
>With the process complete, you feel properly dressed at last for the first time in months. 
>Next to come out of the bag are a pair of twisted silver rings and a thin strip of leather with a clasp at either end and an ancient silver coin threaded onto it.
>You slip the rings onto the index and middle finger of your left hand, and fasten the leather cord around your neck.
>Instantly you feel a tingle as a familiar battery of protective dweomers flicker into being, warding you against poison, disease and the draining effects of negative energy; sharpening your senses and giving you a moment’s prescience of danger; warding you against hostile magic and psionics.
>The next thing is two nondescript strips of white linen cloth.
>Hiking your trousers up and taking your boots off, you begin winding the long strips about your ankles and calves.
>With the process completed you feel their magic take hold as your body seems to become instantly lighter, more buoyant, more agile and pliant to your will; with a thought, you hover upwards from the armchair and sit cross legged in midair.
>You grin as you think about the surprise Rainbow will get – although it’s not like you’ll be able to come close to keeping up with her, even with the magical aid. 

>That’s the last of your accoutrements, for now – there’s a full suit of lovingly-crafted leather armour waiting inside the Portable Hole, but it’s not part of your Rarity-approved outfit, so there it stays for now. 
>You do remove a few more things, though – a score of potions, powders and elixirs of multifarious effect, all in little vials which get secreted about your person in much the same manner as your knives.
>That done, you fold up the handkerchief once more and tuck it into your breast pocket. 
>Thus outfitted, you feel more than confident of your ability to handle any further mail deliveries from the changelings.
>You’re even confident enough to think you might be able to handle the endless complications that the ponies seem to sow in their wake, at least for long enough to celebrate your arrival in Equestria to Pinkie’s satisfaction. 
>On that note, it’s high time that you get up to the suite and let Rarity sign off on Celestia’s repairs and your hairdo, if you’re going to get to the party in any sort of reasonable timeframe. 
>It takes you a couple of minutes to orient yourself once more in the palace, but once you’ve managed that it’s a quick walk to your suite. 
>You open the door to find Twilight, Rarity and Rainbow Dash sitting around the coffee table in their party dresses with drinks; from the doorway you can smell the pungent juniper scent of gin and the dry, crisp note of the tonic. 

>”Anon!” Twilight calls out as you appear, with a big grin which immediately collapses into a frown.  “We were so worried.”
>”Darling, it’s so good to see you safe and sound,” Rarity says, getting up from her seat and coming towards you. 
>”Meh,” Dash says with a roll of her eyes. “I tried to tell ‘em that you’d be fine, Anon, but… well, you can see what they’re like. Better just let them get it outta their system.”
>Rarity reaches you and rears up on her hind legs to give you a tight hug. 
>You return it, a little uncomfortably.
>Again, her nearness, her scent, her soft breath on your cheek as you bend down to return the hug: it all sets you off. 
>This mare has her hooks in you, and no mistake. 
>”We’ll talk later,” she breathes in your ear.
>You feel your heart jump, and grit your teeth.
>Stay cool, for fuck’s sake. 
>You separate and smile round at the three ponies in turn. 
“Hey, it’s not like I was going to let a little thing like that keep me away from this party,” you say with all the blasé nonchalance you can muster. “Hope you made me one of those gin and tonics.”
>”I’m afraid not, but I’m sure Twilight would be happy to oblige, wouldn’t you Twilight, darling? Whilst I get your coiffeur under control. And… oh dear… whatEVER has happened to the stitching on these seams…?”
“Ah yes,” you grin. “Princess Celestia sends her apologies for the botch job she did of repairing my outfit.”

>”Princess Celestia did this?” Rarity blanches. “Well… errr… that is to say, I’m sure it’s very good work, but it’s not -quite- what I had envisaged… let me just… hmm…”
>A pair of scissors and needle and thread float over in a blue magic field, as you catch Dash’s eye over Rarity’s head and exchange an eye-roll and a grin. 
>So that’s two good things to come of the changelings’ efforts: you’ve got your things back, and Rainbow Dash seems to have dropped the attitude.
>Really, the hateful little fuckers did you a favour, even if they didn’t know it. 
>Twilight soon magically passes you a cold glass of gin and tonic and you sip it contentedly as Rarity fusses over your clothes. 
>”What are these new accessories you’ve acquired?” she asks disapprovingly. “They don’t quite compliment the ensemble, you know.”
“Oh, right. These are some trinkets that Princess Celestia returned to me. They’re more for practical than aesthetic purposes.”
>”Hmmm,” she frowns. “Well, keep that grubby old coin inside your shirt out of sight, and… I suppose the rings aren’t TOO bad… perhaps I can improve the situation a little.”
>She hurries off and comes back with a pair of small rubies in silver settings which, with a touch of her horn, soon adorn your rings.
>”An acceptable blend of practicality and aesthetics, then?” she asks playfully. 
“Yes, quite,” you smile, admiring the effect. 

>Then it’s over to the mirror to have your hair done, as Twilight asks question after question probing you about the circumstances and possible reasons for the changeling attack. 
>You deflect her questions as best you can, feeling that even if you’re going to discuss those matters with her then this is hardly the right time. 
>Rainbow, meanwhile, makes herself useful by backpedalling around the room at head height, moaning about how bored she is. 
>You can only smile quietly to yourself, feeling that between Rarity’s fussing, Twilight’s incessant questions and Rainbow’s obnoxious bitching, all is somehow right with the world. 
>That feeling only gets stronger once Rarity finally pronounces you party-ready, and the four of you make your way through the palace corridors towards the grand ball room.
>You can already hear… something… coming from that direction – in fact, as you get closer, you realise you’ve been able to hear it all along, even in the suite.
>A low, vibrating bass sound, too low to be recognisable as music, almost felt rather than heard.
>You reckon you’re beginning to get an inkling of the purpose of all that bizarre equipment that you spent part of your afternoon lugging around with Octavia. 
>The possibilities are intriguing. 
>It grows louder and louder as you approach, melody lines and percussion slowly becoming audible as well, until the volume is almost uncomfortable.

>It seems difficult to believe that ponies actually consider this a conducive atmosphere for social interaction; as radically unfamiliar as it is to you, you just want to lie down and let it wash over you like the irresistible tide that is, buffeting your whole being.
>The ponies don’t seem affected by it at all, though, so you steel yourself and keep going as normal.
>After all you’ve endured much harsher challenges – it’s only that this one seems particularly odd since none of the ponies around you even seem to acknowledge it or experience it as a challenge. 
>The atmosphere only becomes more overwhelming as you approach the ball room itself, the epicentre of the noise, and find it already heaving with an unthinkably huge crowd of brightly-coloured ponies.
>Pinkie Pie has certainly outdone herself with the decorations. 
>Coloured tissue streamers are everywhere, criss-crossing the ceiling in endless layers, and a banner is strung across the stage reading WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA in ten-foot tall lettering. 
>You recognise Vinyl Scratch and Octavia up on the stage, sitting casually next to their gear – well, Vinyl is sitting casually, Octavia looks stiff and on-edge – and chatting with some ponies in the crowd.
>Alarmingly enough, it seems their performance hasn’t even started.

>The current cacophony – which reminds you of nothing so much as an instance several decades ago where you found yourself assaulted by a jealous prime spellslinger with a penchant for sonic evocations – is apparently just… background music. 
>You don’t have time to get the horrors about that before ponies begin to notice your arrival.
>The effect is instant – more and more faces turn to look at you in a great wave, and then the music cuts out.
>Deafening silence reasserts itself, broken only by the excited murmurs of the crowd – it’s like plunging into a cool stream on a bakingly hot day. 
>A bakingly hot day on which you are -on fire-. 
>Pinkie Pie hops up onto the stage and speaks into a strange instrument, her excited voice somehow sounding loudly enough to be easily audible to every pony in the huge chamber. 

>"Good evening, everyp0ny!” she sings out happily. “It’s so good to see so many of my very best friends here tonight! And so many great ponies who aren’t my friends yet, because if there’s one thing that I looooove to do, it’s… dance! And eat ice cream! And laugh! And sing! And bake cakes! And play fun games! And… wait, what was I talking about? Oh right! MAKE FRIENDS. But! Tonight, for once, is NOT about me making friends. Even though I bet I’m gonna make a BUNCH. But the real point of tonight is for you all to make friends with a very special NEW friend. The very first HUMAN ever to visit us here in Equestria: I give you, my good friend –“ she draws herself up dramatically – “Anonymous!”
>It takes rather a lot to embarrass you, but as hundreds or thousands of pairs of pony eyes all turn on you, and the applause starts, it’s all you can do to keep your cheeks from turning red as you grin and wave.
>”So make him feel welcome! And have FUN, everyp0ny! Wheeee!”
>And then the music starts again, and it’s all you can do to stay clear-headed enough to look around for where you can get a drink.