The store was a fairly literal hole in the wall - it was a thrice subdivided space crammed between an accountant's office and the sketchiest carrot dog shack in all of Manehatten. But it wasn't the lack of space that brought Sunburst here. It was the unique nature of it: a changeling alchemist was rare outside the Hive.
A tiny, tinny bell rang with the door opening, causing the pale green changeling to look up. He seemed almost sick, at the very least from lack of sunlight. But his eyes were sharp enough to stick Sunburst in place as the stallion entered.
"This isn't a restaurant," came the almost perfunctory statement.
The Crystal Empire's Best Wizard (and Sunburst could prove it, he had a coffee mug from Princess Cadance that said so) came the rest of the way in. "Well actually, I'm hoping you're not. You are Alary, right? Of Alary's Alchemical Annex?"
That made the changeling perk up. "Yes! Yes I am!" He shuffled around to the narrow face of the front desk. "Sorry, most of my customers aren't ponies. You're all still too skittish to trust changeling work."
Sunburst waved it off with a hoof. "Oh, not me though! I, ah, was close friends with King Thorax before he became king. While we were in the Crystal Empire together, you see. So I trust it! I mean, trust you. Because he suggested you."
The stallion's nervous laughter undermined Sunburst's attempt to sound comfortable with everything. Alary raised an eyeridge. "I'm honored that the King would recommend me, but how can I help you, mister...?"
"Sunburst," clarified the wizard. "Sorry. But yes, King Thorax said you did good work and I need help with an, ah-- I'm told that you have a particular concoction specifically for romance?"
Alary's face lit up. "Oh yes, the Lover's Draught. Everyling said I should have a catchier name but I prefer to keep it simple." The changeling caught Sunburst's questioning look and knew the answer before the question was asked. "My daughter named the shop. She's better with words than I am."
"Right! Right, so... I would like one of those? Um, please?"
The changeling motioned for Sunburst to follow him. It wasn't much of a trip, given the shop's tiny size - but it brought them behind the curtain and from the shopfront to the work area. Space was even tighter there, with nearly every inch packed with vials, herb packets and laboratory equipment. There was only just enough space for a changeling to move around plus a single seat.
Sitting Sunburst into the chair, Alary took a deep breath before launching into the next part. "I'm required by Equestrian law and the Changeling Amnesty Treaty to explain the process to you, so--"
Sunburst immediately piped up. "Oh, I know the treaty. I actually helped negotiate it!" He beamed happily for a moment before his smile dimmed. "It, ah, wasn't all that much negotiating in the end. Mostly requests from the Princesses and Thorax agreeing."
"....Right." Clearing his throat, Alary started again. "I'm required by law to explain the process to you." He paused to make sure Sunburst wasn't going to interrupt him again. "What's going to happen is that I'm going to extract a small amount of love from you and brew it into a potion. When drank, it will communicate your feelings to the imbiber on an emotional level. Essentially, they'll directly experience how you feel." He took a deep breath before releasing the rest rapid-fire. "The Lover's Draught is not a love potion or poison and does not have any effect on the imbiber's mind or emotional state. As per the Changeling Amnesty Treaty no love will be consumed by the alchemist without express permission and it will only be taken for distillation into the potion. Be aware that any non-love feelings during the process may be communicated into the distillation as well, so do not undergo the process if you have any lingering anger, jealousy or other negative emotions about the intended imbiber. Alary's Alchemical Annex is not responsible for any relationship problems that may result from mis-use of the Lover's Draught, please sign here."
A rather densely-worded sheet of paper flopped onto the workbench beside Sunburst. He adjusted his glasses, trying to make out the tiniest of tiny print before giving up and simply signing it.
Alary filed the paper away before replacing it with a tall flat-bottomed crystal flask. "Now that that's out of the way Mister Sunburst, I just need you to relax. I'll do the hard part from here on out - you just need to sit there and remember what you love about the pony you're giving this to. I suggest starting with the first time you said you loved them. That's usually a great opening memory."
In the chair, Sunburst shifted uneasily. "Ah, well, here's the problem with, ah... with that. You see I haven't quite told her yet. I'm not good with words - well, I'm not good with words like those I'm fine with other words. Great even! Just not... words for her." He squirmed under his own pressure. "I wanted to give her this so she could know how I feel without my tongue getting in the way."
With the patience of someone who had heard this exact situation multiple times before, Alary nodded and withheld commentary. His eyes, though - his eyes judged in the way that only a pathovore dealing with someone who couldn't handle emotions could. "Start with the first time you felt love for her, then. And I'll remind you - this won't make her love you. So don't pretend it will."
"I understand." Sunburst closed his eyes, relaxed back into the chair - and remembered.
The first time we met wasn't exactly a fairytale. It was, actually, pretty stressful. I had just become reacquainted with my childhood friend Starlight Glimmer when I was informed we were all about to freeze to death in an unending blizzard because of a newborn.
I had been brought in at the last moment to try and salvage things - and it was a good thing the situation was so dire. If it wasn't, my brain wouldn't have been short-circuited by fear and there was no way I could have stayed composed in the midst of meeting all four Princesses for the first time. Afterwards, I spent fifteen minutes in a bathroom hyperventilating and trying not to throw up. I barely remember half of what happened in those few minutes - it was just a blur of coming up with last second solutions and hoping everypony survived.
But it was impossible to forget Twilight Sparkle, even if she hadn't been a Princess. Even at a momentary meeting, she was brilliant. And just as importantly, she was bright enough to understand what she didn't understand. When Starlight brought me forward as an expert to help, Twilight didn't argue. She'd simply trusted her friend's judgement and took the shot. It was the first time someone who wasn't my mother had put that much faith in me.
You see, there's a common problem with academics and experts - ego. They know they're smart and see others as challenges, not help. They fail a lot by extending outside their areas of knowledge and assuming their raw brilliance will carry them. Smart at one thing means smart at all things, even as they go down in flames. Not Twilight.
That was one of the two things that stuck with me from our first meeting. That and her smile. She carried it easily, even in crisis. The world was falling apart around us and the only salvation was a long shot presented by somepony she had never met before and barely heard of - and Twilight had smiled with the confidence and poise of a goddess.
Maybe it had been at everyone, but as the magic of the Crystal Heart washed over us? I could feel the warmth of that smile directly on me.
***
It was a good memory. Sunburst couldn't — and didn't — resist as a smile came to his lips at the thought of the first time she'd smiled at him.
Of course, it wasn't always her smile that settled him...
***
All of the Crystal Empire was in a panic just at the thought of a changeling being nearby. (If we had known Thorax then like we eventually would, our reactions would have been far different.) It had been several long days of fearful ponies and tripled guard patrols - then she arrived.
It was Spike who fixed things in the end, but Twilight's presence changed everything. Her being there altered the tone of the defense as she naturally and instinctively took the lead. Yes, Cadance was Princess of the Crystal Empire and yes, Shining Armor was a seasoned captain of the guard. But Twilight had a way of connecting with ponies Cadance and Shining lacked, and Twilight's nature itself had shone through and steadied the Empire - both outside the palace and within.
It was the within that I remember vividly: it was only the second time I'd been in the same room as Twilight. And it was our first real conversation.
While Spike was off with the Crystal Guard on patrol - and stumbling into Thorax - Twilight had come down to check on Flurry Heart. Thankfully, Flurry was sleeping at the time, somehow perfectly at peace while everypony else was losing their minds. Twilight came up beside me in silence and both of us watched the sleeping foal for a few minutes before the Princess spoke.
"It's amazing how nothing seems to bother her."
I had to put effort into not laughing. "You haven't seen her when she decides she doesn't want peas for dinner."
Twilight snorted before covering her mouth with a hoof to hold back the laughter. "I guess I haven't," she admitted. "I wish I could, though."
"No you don't. Even Princess Cadance got tired of that by the end of Flurry's first month."
But Twilight shook her head. "What I mean is... I feel bad that I'm missing so much of Flurry's life already. She's here and I'm in Ponyville. That was the only bad part about being Princess Celestia's student - I was away from my family and I missed so much of their lives. Now I'm missing Flurry's, too." She smiled, but it was a narrow, bittersweet one.
"...I'll send you reports." I made the offer without even thinking about it. It just seemed right at the time. "Monthly. No, weekly! That way even if you can't be here, you can at least share some of it."
And then she gave me that smile again - the same one I saw when the Crystal Heart was reconstituted. "You'd do that? For me? Thank you, Sunburst." Then she stopped and snickered, changing in an instant from Princess to pony. "You know, when I was Princess Celestia's student I would write her letters all the time. A little part of me has always been disappointed that Starlight living with me meant she didn't have to write."
"So instead of watching Starlight develop, you can read about Flurry!" The instant I said it, I realized how incredibly dumb it sounded. It was easily one of my worst-phrased statements ever.
She still laughed, the angel.
We talked for a minute or so more before Flurry yawned and woke up. That meant it was time for me to resume my duties and Twilight left to see her brother. It wasn't until almost half an hour later that I realized I wasn't worried anymore. I hadn't even thought about the changeling since Twilight talked to me.
***
"PENPALS!"
We both shouted it at the same time, the phoenix quill bringing the idea forward. Later that evening, I'd nearly kicked myself for not thinking of it before. I had been writing Twilight for months about Flurry Heart's development and yet never considered including any details of myself in there. But in the heat of the moment - after hours of antiquing and talking history - it suddenly made sense. There was something she and I had in common beyond Starlight and Flurry Heart.
But even beyond that and everything else from that week? The moment that stands out in my mind is our first time playing Dragon Pit. Starlight was relating some of my own quirks from when we were playing as foals, like how I would get so excited that my magic would surge and flip the board. And Twilight... Twilight smiled and said it sounded adorable.
My heart raced when she said it. The story was a little embarrassing, but the moment Twilight said those words I could feel something changed.
So when a minute later she lost control and flipped the board, I made my own tentative first attempt - I called her adorable in return. And while the five seconds before she started laughing were the most stressful of my life, it was all worth it when she smiled that amazing smile at me again.
I'm pretty sure that was the first moment I thought about the possibility we could be more than friends.
***
Things got a little distracted after that. Between my (accidental, I swear) snubbing of Starlight and then freeing the Pillars of Equestria and nearly having the world plunged into eternal darkness (again) by the Pony of Shadows, a lot happened before I could write. That would be reasonable for anypony. But if I'm going to be honest, I couldn't find the courage to write her until my next letter about Flurry Heart.
I'd finished giving her an update on Flurry - how Equestria's littlest Princess had discovered the joys of high velocity pureed carrots - and I was just about to close the envelope when I stopped myself. I realized that this was the perfect time to follow up on what Twilight had suggested and include something about me as well. I didn't have to feel uneasy about sending her a separate letter, I could just add it to what I was already sending. It was a natural opportunity to do just what she had suggested.
Of course, I was still nervous enough that I didn't just add to the letter I had already written. I put it on a different sheet, writing a whole second letter to Twilight. It wasn't even about anything in particular because I had no idea what to say to her. The start was a joke about how I had learned my friendship lesson about not staying in contact with Starlight and that the letter was proof I wasn't going to repeat it.
I regretted writing that about five minutes after I sent the letter off and couldn't get it back.
At first, I was worried she wouldn't write back. Setting up a school was difficult after all, so I told myself that any reply would be slow. I was proven extremely wrong a few days later when a letter exploded out of thin air in front of me with a puff of smoke and green fire.
I really should ask Spike some day if there's any way unicorn magic can replicate his abilities.
Once my heart stopped trying to leap out of my chest and I sat down to read, Twilight's letter was an eye-opener. I had expected her to ask more about how Flurry was doing, but there was barely a word in the letter about her niece. It was almost entirely talking to me.
I can still recite everything she said in the letter - it started with her asking if I'd found anything else interesting in that blind buy barrel. Obviously nothing as amazing as Starswirl's journal, but she was curious what else was in it. Then she wanted to know more about my life after going to Celestia's school. Starlight had apparently told her a lot of stories about our foalhood together, but beyond that was a blank. After that it was getting my input on a variant of Victory Flare's Disruptive Demolition she was working on with Trixie, half because she thought I was knowledgeable enough to double-check the spell work and half because she didn't trust Trixie. I still remember laughing at how her words kept shrinking towards the bottom as she tried to limit herself to just one page.
It was one of the most heartfelt things I've ever read, in spite of how mundane it was. I knew that Princesses were still ponies - you can't change one's diapers regularly without the title's glamor wearing off - but the letter felt different. Princess Cadance tries to treat herself as if she's a normal pony, coming down to the level of the rest of us. With Twilight, it never seemed to occur to her at all that she wasn't on our level. She was writing to me as a friend and equal, as if it were entirely natural.
The hardest part about my response was carefully pacing my words. I had to cut the story about my time at Celestia's school a bit short, but I managed to get the rest to where I wanted: exactly two lines and a signature on a second page, to try and let her know it was okay to use more than one.
She got the message. Her next letter had five.
***
Several more letters flipped past, running through Sunburst's memory in a near-blur. They had been thick with information - the rest of his schooling story, Twilight talking about her own time with Celestia, daily events, magical theory, history exchanges as they challenged each other to find trivia the other didn't know, comparing rowdy students to colicky alicorns, swapping preferences in tea and coffee (a far more in-depth topic than Sunburst had originally assumed), cross-referencing Zebra shamanistic practices with Hippogriffian mysticism, complaining about Trixie, theorycrafting about where changeling society was going to go, and a million other things.
Letters became packets, regularly stretching out for more than a dozen pages. Each one leaving via Equestrian Post and returning in a burst of smoke and dragonflame.
Right up until they didn't.
***
After several months of letters, I had a pretty good idea of how long it took Twilight to reply. So when one took longer than expected, I was a little worried. Things happened around the Bearers, and having too much Princess work to do was just as likely as being abducted by rogue changelings for sacrifice to an extradimensional god-creature.
A package arrived three days after I expected her to reply. At first was relief that she was fine. Then for a moment I was afraid - did she finally hit a stack of pages thick enough that Spike couldn't send it via dragon's breath? Finding that it was a bound book inside made me worry about that even more. There was being chatty and then there was stepping up your game to a whole new embossed hard-cover level.
Fortunately, Twilight included a letter with it that explained the book and why she never attempted to replicate Spike's message-sending.
The idea of an instantly transmitting pair of journals was fascinating, but at the time my wonder was overridden by trying to decide what to write first. It was the stress of starting a conversation all over again. Did I want to go simple? Cheeky? Formal? Pick up where our last conversation left off? Was she the only one who would read the journal or would she be dictating to Spike? Were several journals networked together?
I was so nervous I ended up trapped in that cycle of thought for more than an hour. But when I did manage to write, it felt like a good start - something simple, but undeniably me. I said hello in Old Ponish.
And then I got up to leave. The chances of Twilight sitting by the book, waiting to reply were miniscule.
Which, of course, is why the journal started to flash and buzz before I made it to the other side of the room.
Opening the journal back up, Twilight's flowing hornwriting was still scribing across the page, appearing with a bright purple glow that settled to black ink. But her first reply was unmistakable:
Halla, vi yu ar? - Hello, how are you?
***
Old Ponish becoming their default language had been almost an accident, but it worked out well. Twilight had confessed that some of her more ardent friends had curiously looked at her magic journals before - particularly the one to her friend Sunset Shimmer - so the language barrier helped to keep some privacy. That especially applied to Spike, who tried to be both the best assistant and protective little brother he could be.
The journal had instantly become Sunburst's constant evening companion - when Cadance and Shining took Flurry back after dinner for a family evening together, Sunburst would retreat for the night with the journal, a book to read between messages and enough ink to drown a minotaur.
With the faster and easier communication, their conversations became even more in-depth: the subjects ranged just as widely, but now they could exchange theories and chase thoughts as fast as they could write. And it let them become more personal, the speed taking away the chance to filter and revise a letter before sending their words on.
Months passed.
***
I admit that I was feeling lonely that evening. Princess Cadance always gets funny around Hearts & Hooves Day, and that just made being alone hurt a little more. I'm not a very romantic stallion, but serving the Princess of Love on the day about love could make a rock think about romance. (And I have that on Maud's very good authority.)
So I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. Of course, Twilight picked up on it immediately.
I remember trying to change the subject a few times, but Twilight smelled a friendship problem and wouldn't let go. So after half an hour, I confessed that eighty-five percent of the Crystal Empire was currently on a date while I was having an evening in with a heart-shaped cupcake, a glass of port and a book.
Of course, Twilight immediately started quizzing me on what I wanted in a date, implying that she knew some ponies who might be interested. Love would never work without being friends, so it was right up her alley — or so she claimed. (I've never tried to get Princess Cadance's opinion on that, which is probably for my own safety.)
I wanted to keep things pretty vague and I tried to deflect - mostly because I was hoping she would drop it and move on so I could go back to feeling bad and discussing 5th century Merrie perfume-making techniques. But this was Twilight Sparkle and a friendship problem, so I may as well have been trying to get a griffon to donate to charity.
Mentally, I asked myself the same question — sure I'd had a crush here and there but dating had never really been on my radar. What did I want in a partner? Intelligent, obviously. Somepony I shared hobbies with. Who would enjoy a nice evening in with tea and an old book, but could also deal with the kind of craziness that living alongside royalty brings. A pony who was loyal, honest and so on. And maybe it's a little bit chromist, but I've always thought cool colors were more attractive. A blue, or maybe purple.
And it was at that moment I realized that I had described my ideal date as being Twilight Sparkle.
Now I won't lie and say I never had a crush on her - but who doesn't? Princess Cadance has a subscription to Hoof Beats magazine and Twilight's won their poll for 'Cutest Princess' three years running. But most ponies haven't saved Equestria with her (twice!) and they don't foalsit her niece. Most ponies that have a crush on Twilight Sparkle will never even physically see her; I can talk (well, write) to her at two in the morning and usually get an answer.
My absolute panic wasn't because I had a crush on Twilight Sparkle and I was about to describe her to herself as my ideal date. It was because I could, at that moment, ask her out and she would probably consider it.
A wise pony once said that nopony fears a drawing of a manticore, but the sound of heavy paws in the darkness will set even the bravest for cover.
In short, I panicked.
I told her I wasn't interested in romance right now, and a lot more defensively than I really needed to.
That was so stupid.
Twilight dropped the subject and I went to bed early.
***
Sunburst grimaced. He shouldn't have thought about that - the changeling had said that negative feelings were bad. The potion wouldn't help anything if it was tainted by his own regrets.
Focusing, Sunburst tried to bring himself back around.
***
"So just talk to her."
For the leader of a species known as masters of empathy, disguise and deception, Thorax was remarkably straight-forward. And a little dense, if I'm going to be honest. But he was also the only creature I could talk about this with - Princess Cadance would try to help too much, Prince Shining would... I'm not sure but I doubt he would react well since it's his sister and he's a bit too traditional for his own good sometimes. Spike would probably be the worst of both worlds. What other options I could think of either didn't know me well enough or didn't know Twilight at all. Which left Thorax - he knew us both, he wouldn't make things worse and his innocence made him a good sounding board.
I just didn't like what he was saying.
"You're in love with her, right?" It was hard to be mad at Thorax. He was just so earnest. I still wanted to be.
"Well, I wouldn't say love," I hedged. "That implies a much deeper knowledge of each other."
Thorax rolled his eyes. "You mean like writing back and forth with her for several hours every night for months?"
Credit where credit is due, Thorax was getting better at sarcasm. I blame his brother. "It's not the same!" I tried not to snap and failed. I pushed my frustration back down again afterwards. "Thorax, we both know I'm not great at talking to ponies. I'm good with words when I write, not when I speak."
"So write it to her."
"I can't! Every time I start it feels like I'm trying to--" I stopped, forcing myself to take a breath and slow down. "It feels like I'm faking it. You know what that's like, right? When you're doing something you know nothing about but you have to seem like you know what you're doing anyway?"
Thorax smiled uneasily. "That sounds like every day of being King to me."
"Yes, but this is... actually almost the same," I admitted. "If I do it wrong, it's a disaster. I can deal with it if Twilight says she's not interested, but I want that to be because she's not interested, not because I can't find the right words to tell her how I feel."
Thorax nodded slowly. "And how do you feel?"
That was harder to express, especially since I wanted to be impartial about it. "I never want to stop talking to her. She's just so enjoyable to have a conversation with, I feel bad about needing sleep."
"And when you can't write to her?" Thorax prodded me gently, both verbally and with his hoof.
It took a moment for me to admit it. "I worry. I know she's a Princess and can handle anything that happens better than I ever could, but I still fret that something's happened."
He nodded, those big silly antlers waggling. "And if she does decide that she's interested the same way you are?"
Another good question - this time, I'd thought about it before. Repeatedly. Nearly every night. "I'd like to spend more time with her - physically, not just through the journal. And do things together instead of just talking. Every day, Princess Cadance helps ponies find love. I want to see if both of us can be as happy as the couples she helps are."
Thorax smiled back at me. "That's a good answer. I think I know someling that could help with your problem."
Sunburst was yanked out of the memory by a tiny bell chiming. His head rose, looking up by instinct despite the curtain separating him from the door. Alary stepped away to his shopfront, leaving Sunburst alone with a cluttered workbench and the glowing potion bottle.
Eyes drifting to it, Sunburst watched the glowing pink liquid swirl and shimmer. It was nearly full with just barely enough room left for the crystal stopper to fit.
But while Sunburst's eyes were elsewhere, his ears still picked up what was going on outside the curtain in the main shop. And particularly, a very familiar voice.
"Yes, I know this isn't a restaurant. Are you Alary? King Thorax said I should come here."
For a moment, Sunburst's jaw worked wordlessly. There was no mistaking Twilight's voice, but why was she here?
The changeling on the other side of the curtain half-grunted his reply. "I am, and this is my shop. Do you mind taking off the cloak? This isn't the best neighborhood, so I don't like it when ponies try to hide their identities, even if they are potential clients."
The voice that was almost certainly Twilight Sparkle answered. "Oh! Yes, sorry. I just didn't want to attract attention coming here." There was a shuffle of cloth. "Thorax said that you could help me with a, um, a problem that I'm having. He said that you have the skill to make something called the Lover's Draught?"
The curtain was violently thrown open before Sunburst realized he was on his hooves. He stood there in the little doorway, eyes wide and the glowing pink potion bottle beside him quite visible. In the cramped storefront was Twilight Sparkle, most of her hidden under a dark cloak that had only just been moved back from her head.
The two stared at each other over top of the mildly amused changeling proprietor. Neither had words — at least, none that would help the situation make sense or save face.
Fortunately, the changeling did. "I'm still going to charge you for the potion," Alary noted to Sunburst.
Author's Note
Twenty years ago today, I sucked up my pride and talked to a girl I had a crush on.
Despite both of us being hopeless nerds and stuck long-distance for years, it worked out for us both.
Happy Anniversary, my love. Here's to the next twenty.
