Painter Twilight

by thesecret1

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spike, Comedy, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 11099

Twilight Sparkle has always been good at magic. Levitation, teleportation, transmutation... you name it. But what if she showed an equal talent in another, completely different field?

Twilight Sparkle has always been good at magic. Levitation, teleportation, transmutation... you name it. But what if she showed an equal talent in another, completely different field?

Edited by InquisitorM.

Published 2013-07-13 18:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-13 18:20:03 UTC

Story

It was a sunny, warm morning in Ponyville, the light shining brightly through the window and onto the table. The library, usually quiet and perhaps even with an air of hostility to those disturbing it, rang with laughter today and was filled by the scent of freshly made tea. The one laughing, Rarity, put down her teacup and leaned in. “Have you heard about what Applejack found her brother doing?”

Twilight sipped her hot beverage and smiled. “Everypony has heard. Who would have guessed that Big Mackintosh would like Smarty Pants so much?” She blushed a little. “Actually, I think that my spell might still be affecting him a bit. But we won’t spoil the fun for him, right?”

“Of course not!” Rarity said, giggling. “It’s things like these that make the gossip here interesting. Speaking of which, I’d like to thank you for agreeing to this visit. I usually talk about these things with Fluttershy, but the girl can be so quiet! Sometimes, it’s almost like she only listens to me out of courtesy.”

Twilight waved her hoof. “It’s nothing, really. Not many things happening in this library, so this is a welcome change. Besides, it’s I who should thank you for bringing this excellent tea! I haven’t had anything so delicious ever since I moved from Canterlot.”

“Yes.” Rarity deeply inhaled the steam rising from her cup. “It’s like you are in a different place. One can almost see the zebras working in the fields and hear the cracking of whips.”

There was a sound of pattering feet on the stairs, and soon by a little dragon came into view. “Twilight?” he said with a checklist in his hands. “I’ve finished my chores for today.”

Twilight furrowed her brow and levitated the list towards her. “This quick? It usually takes you twice the time. Let’s check the checklist, shall we?” She shone a beam of blue light from her horn onto each check mark.

“Whatever are you doing, darling?” Rarity asked, lifting her eyebrow.

“Making sure Spike isn’t lying, of course. The paper is enchanted by a spell that won’t allow any ink to stick to it, unless the chore was really done. I’m just checking that Spike didn’t find some loophole, like using coal to write the mark.”

“Aww, you should trust him more.” Rarity pressed her hooves on Spikes cheeks. “Little Spikey-wikey wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Yeah, Twi,” Spike said, despite having his lips puckered. “You should just believe me and stop with this checking. This distrust of yours is very offensive! And uh... hurts my feelings!”

“I’m sure you’ll survive that enormous pain this must cause you,” Twilight said, not lifting her eyes from the paper. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time I caught you cheating.”

Rarity gasped, pulling her hooves away. “You cheated, Spike?”

“You didn’t say I can’t ask Princess Celestia for help,” Spike replied, frowning. “Besides, I was little.”

Rarity’s eyes widened as she looked at Twilight. “He asked Princess Celestia to help him with his chores?”

“Yeah, I totally did!” Spike puffed out his chest. “And she didn’t mind at all!”

“The Princess came and fulfilled his duties in a blink of an eye with her magic, saying that it wasn’t a bother at all,” Twilight said with a sour scowl on her face.

“We should ask her more often. It’s not like it’s hard for her,” he said.

“Spike, stop. You can’t just go around asking Princesses to clean up after you!”

“Yeah, sure. After me,” he replied under his breath.

Twilight finally finished beaming on the paper and her scowl deepened. “The ink’s legitimate.”

“Told you so!” Spike snatched the list away from her. “I’m touched. Really. How am I supposed to live with somepony so mistrustful?” He performed a decent figure of fainting and ‘accidentally’ ended up in Rarity’s lap, looking at her with puppy eyes.

“Except...” Twilight said, pulling the list back and grinning like a predator jumping on its unsuspecting prey. “This list is from yesterday! I know because I forgot to write a date there. Nice try though. Now go put it in the drawer with the other checklists and finish the chores for today. If you do a good job, perhaps I’ll forget about this and give you a gem or two to snack on.”

“Geez...” Spike lifted himself from Rarity and reached for the paper.

“Wait a moment,” Rarity said. “Let me have a look at it, please.” Spike handed her the list. “Well this is interesting.” She held her head low above the paper, almost touching it.

“It’s horrible, the amount of stuff I have to do every day, right?” Spike asked, smiling.

“What? Oh, no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” she replied, ignoring how Spike slouched afterwards. “Did you draw those pictures, Twilight? The ones next to the checkboxes.”

“Well, yes; drawing is fun.” Twilight moved behind her and stared at the paper too. “Why? Is there something wrong with them?”

Rarity shook her head. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually. They’re precise, and since you draw new ones every day, I’d say you make them with ease. Say, darling, did it ever occur to you that you might have a talent for arts?”

“It’s nice of you to say so, but I think you’re overrating it. They’re just some doodles.”

“Oh, are they?” Rarity gave her a beaming smile. “Then try drawing something bigger. Like me!”

Twilight scratched her head. “Well, I suppose I can, but–“

“Wonderful! Just let me bring my divan. And a bowl of fruit. Every good painting has a bowl of fruit in it.” She ran out of the library with such speed that even the last year’s Running of the Leaves champion would have difficulties catching up to her.

“Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?”

“Do you think you could give me a copy once you draw her?”

Twilight chuckled. “Not in a million years.”

Spike’s frowning face was lit up again when Rarity returned. She lay on the red fabric of the seat on her side, supporting her head with her hoof and positioning the bowl so that it covered her crotch.

“Twilight?” Spike asked again.

“What is it?”

“You know that now you have to make me a copy, right?”

Before Twilight had even had the time to open her mouth, Rarity chimed in, “Oh, do make him a copy by all means, darling! There’s no sense in not showing your enormous talent to the world in as many ways as possible. Plus I wouldn’t mind seeing my portrait in more places than just my boutique.”

“Are you sure?” Twilight asked, cocking her brow. “I mean you don’t even know how it’ll look like yet. I’ve never drawn anything like this; it’ll probably be a complete mess.”

“Darling, no more of this talk. Just... create!”

Shrugging, Twilight levitated a pencil and got to work. It took hours upon hours filled only by the sound of graphite scratching on paper, and Rarity was already beginning to complain about the pains of lying still for so long by the time the drawing was finally complete.

“I didn’t have any paint, so I just used some pastels.”

Rarity got off the divan, stretched her legs, and walked towards the picture, her expression immediately cheering up. “This is perfect!” She levitated the paper and held it against light. “The proportions are just right, and the shading is marvellous. You even used the golden ratio to position the bowl!”

“I don’t even know what this ‘golden ratio’ is. It just felt right to put it there.”

“I told you so,” Rarity said, looking her in the eyes with a grin. “That’s a talent right there!”

“If you say so.” Twilight gave her a sheepish smile. “I suppose it’s good to know I’m good at drawing. I can use it in my studies and try even some harder glyphs.”

Rarity shook her head. “No, no, no. Don’t waste your time with some stupid glyphs, darling. You’re capable of so much more!”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “Like making me a copy. Remember that Rarity gave her permission! And that you owe me one for all those chores.”

Twilight scowled at him, but started drawing again nevertheless. It took her only half an hour before she was finished, but Rarity was already shuffling a bit, constantly checking the clock.

“Here you go, Spike,” Twilight said with a wide grin.

“Than– wait. This is only half of the picture!”

“You’re too little for the bowl. Maybe when you get older.”

Rarity stood up, levitating her portrait towards herself. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this visit short, darling. The boutique won’t run itself, after all. But I thank you for this masterpiece.” She smiled and started moving towards the exit, stopping at the door. “Oh, and Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“You should seriously consider enrolling in an art school.” She left before even hearing the reply.

“Art school? Me?” Twilight stared at the door, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, Twi. Go for it! Do you know how cool it’ll be when ponies call you ‘maestro’?” Spike burst out with laughter. “Say, Maestro Sparkle,” he said in a deep voice, “do you think you could draw a conjuror next time? He’d show you some amazing spells, like making fireworks out of thin air!”

“Cut it out!” Twilight said, glaring at him. “Last time I checked, you still had your chores unfinished, so get to it. I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense.”

———

The merciless knocks fell on the wood like a battering ram, forcing their way through Twilight’s eardrums and echoing inside her head. She tumbled her way downstairs, yawning profusely, and opened the door.

“Hiya, Twilight! I heard you’re some fancy painter now. Congratulations!” Applejack grasped Twilight’s hoof and pumped it up and down. “I’m here to commission a piece.”

Twilight rubbed her eyes, yawned again, looked Applejack deep into the eyes, and said, “What?”

“Well, I know I ain’t lookin’ like no picture collector, but I figured you could make something to promote the Sweet Apple Acres.” She gave her a wide grin. “Here’s an apple. Draw it in a fancy way and I’ll give you five bits per piece. That’s fair and square.”

“What?”

“I’ll take twenty. That should be enough for Ponyville. Here.” She hoofed her the apple. “Do you think you could have it finished this afternoon? That would be great. I have to return to the farm now, bye!”

Twilight stared at her as she left, the gears in her head slowly beginning to move. “What?” She looked at the apple in her hoof “What? Since when am I known as a painter? And what the hay does she mean by ‘fancy way’?” Then, another line finally found its way into her brain. “Twenty of them by afternoon? Did she go completely insane? How am I supposed to manage that? Why should I manage that? I’m not an artist for Celestia’s sake! Where did she even get that from?”

Spike shifted in his sleep, mumbling, “Rarity...”

“Oh. Right. Figures!” She stomped off in the boutique’s direction.

———

“I am not a painter!”

“Calm down, darling, and tell me what’s wrong,” Rarity said, still dressed in her bed robe. “You’ve only been shouting at me so far, but didn’t actually tell me why. Also, being this angry can’t be good for your health.”

Twilight took a long, deep breath. “I. Am. Not. A. Painter.”

“Oh, if that’s the problem, I’m sure you can become one after just a little bit of practice. Did you consider that art school?”

“No!” Twilight shouted, taking yet another deep breath afterwards. “What I mean is that Applejack came to me today and asked me to draw her some apples, even offering to pay me five bits for each. Care to explain?”

“Well, Applejack can drive a hard bargain sometimes. I’m sure she’ll double the amount with just a little bit of haggling,” she said, smiling.

Twilight facehoofed. “What I mean is – I am a magician. I have no interest in becoming a painter, and I certainly don’t want to draw apples twenty times!”

“Darling, you can’t be serious.” Rarity grabbed her cheeks, pulling her towards herself. “Think of the talent you’re wasting! Think of the future generations, of the glorious art you’re depraving them of! Just imagine.” Rarity put her hoof around Twilight’s neck and pointed her other one at some random point above. “Galleries filled with your artwork. Ponies chanting your name and applauding whenever you appear. And, of course, the other artists, bowing before your magnificence and getting inspired by your work for ages to come! Tell me, darling, isn’t that worth a little effort?”

Twilight shook Rarity off and narrowed her eyes. “No. Not at all. I don’t feel like being bowed to, and ponies will be free to draw inspiration from the new spells I’ll create.”

“But art is so much better than magic! Grand magicians spend their lives surrounded only by dusty books and rotting, old paper. Grand artists, on the other hoof, spend it surrounded by nobles, art collectors, and admirers. For an artist, every day is a party, a visit to theatre, or another prestigious event. For a magician, every day is spent in some mouldy basement.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my basement. You don’t even see the mould unless you’re looking for it!”

Rarity frowned. “Twilight, you know I only want the best–“

“For yourself!” Twilight’s face was so red that one could almost see the steam being blown out of her nostrils. “You just want to brag about having a great painter as your friend!”

There was a long pause, during which Twilight rapidly returned to her normal colour, and Rarity started shaking. “T... Twilight...” she said, tears pushing their way forward. “I... I can’t believe you would say that. I can’t believe you would think that! Get out!”

With a surge of magic that would make even a grand spellcaster proud, Twilight flew through the air head-first into the bushes outside. Shaking her head, she watched as Rarity slammed the door behind her and closed the shutters. She got back on her hooves, trembling, and began her trek home.

———

“The one with the jewels, please,” Twilight said, pointing at an expensive-looking gem-crested frame. This should be enough to apologise. A good gift is a practical one, and she did say she wanted to frame that picture of her.

“That’ll be fifty bits,” the clerk replied, looking at her ragged saddlebacks with his brow cocked.

Hey, no point in throwing things out as long as they serve! She exchanged the requested amount of money for the gift and trotted towards the boutique.

She knocked at the door and waited.

There was the sound of quick hoofsteps and a creak as the door opened just enough to take a peek outside. “Twilight?”

Twilight looked down at her hooves. “I came to... apologise.”

The door swung open, revealing Rarity with a smile as wide as a mile. “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me, darling! I was sure you’d be. Come right in!” She motioned Twilight towards a chair.

“It really wasn’t that much of a deal,” Twilight said, cocking her brow and smiling while sitting down. “I brought you a gift, here.” She pulled out the present from her saddlebags.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! Now you made me feel guilty for exploiting you like this.” She placed the frame next to the picture, which was already fitted into an identical one. “So, you aren’t angry at me for what I did? Not even a little bit?”

“No. Why should I? What you did was completely understandable.”

Rarity’s smile widened even more, a feat Twilight thought impossible just a second ago. “So, you forgive me? Things are alright between us again?”

“Absolutely. But I gotta go check on Spike – slacking off again, I bet – so...”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Rarity said, accompanying her to the door. “You have a bright future ahead of you.”

“Thanks...” she replied, but Rarity already closed the door behind her again. She furrowed her brow, replaying the last sentence a few times in her head, but then just shrugged.

———

Twilight arrived home just a few minutes later, and could immediately tell something was wrong – Spike wasn’t slacking off. He waited for her at the front door, holding a letter in his hand. “Took you long enough, Twi. Rarity was here like a half an hour ago.”

“Wait, Rarity was here?” Twilight asked, eyeing the letter. It bore the royal seal.

“Yeah, she asked me to send some letter and to give you the reply.”

Twilight scratched her head. “Must have been here while I was shopping. Anyway, what does it say?”

“No idea.”

“Seriously?” Twilight narrowed her eyes. “You always read my correspondence.”

“Yeah, well, this time Rarity told me to give it to you, and I won’t go against her wishes!” He shove the letter in front of her. “Here, take it.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “If only you listened to me as much as you listen to her... Let’s see what it says.”

My dearest student, Twilight Sparkle,

You seem to surprise me with every passing day. Your magic grows stronger with each minute, your friendship reports are getting more and more elaborate as you learn, and now it seems that you have yet another skill to offer. It pleases me to hear that you are developing it as well, and I must say that your artwork is marvellous.

But I should expect no less of you, should I? After all, that one should not focus on one thing and neglect the other is the very first thing you’ve learned in Ponyville. I wish you the best of luck in this new endeavour and hope that it will come as easy to you as magic did.

Yours Faithfully,
Princess Celestia

“Oh, so that why Rarity was being so nice!” Twilight said, staring at the letter like she wanted to burn a hole through it.

“Twi?”

“This is horrible! Now I have to draw more, otherwise the Princess will be disappointed. I can’t focus on two things at once like this! Would it mean double the amount of tests?” Twilight gasped. “What if there’s a surprise painting test coming in a few days from the Princess to prove that I’m learning?”

“Twi.”

“Do we have books about this in the library? No, I would’ve noticed. I have to order some, but that will take several days – what if the test comes before the books?” She sat on her haunches and started biting the tips of her hooves. “If I don’t pass the test, the Princess will think I’m slacking off. If she thinks I’m slacking off, she’ll no longer want me as her student. And if I’m no longer her student... my life is ruined!”

“Twi!”

She scowled at him. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m contemplating the way of my demise?”

“It’s just that...” – Spike sneered – “you should probably start drawing those apples.”

Twilight gave him an ugly look. “Oh, yeah, that. I think I have more important things to do right now.”

“Well, if you think about it,” – Spike started slowly circling her like a teacher circles around an ignorant student – “a test from painting would probably cover some theory, but the main part would be the painting itself, right?”

“Yeah...?”

“Well, what better way to improve your painting skills than, let’s say, painting things?”

As understanding craved its way into her strained brain, a frown started to form. “I have to draw those stupid apples, that’s what you mean, right?”

“Exactly!” Spike beamed.

“You aren’t going to get out of this easy either,” she said, the frown turning into a sinister smile. “You will go and buy all those brushes, paint and whatever else I’ll need, you’ll bring me Rarity – I need somepony to shout at whenever those apples turn out badly – and you’ll clean up after me every time I’m finished.”

“But I wanted to... never mind. I’m on it.” Sighing, he sped off in the marketplace’s direction.

Now, where did I throw that darn apple?

———

“Here you go Applejack, twenty pictures of apples,” Twilight said.

Applejack eyed her with her brow raised. “You alright, pardner?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well... there’s that mane of yours, which is messier than mine – and that’s somethin’ – your eyes are more red than white, and you smile like you were planin’ on murderin’ me.”

“Nonsense.” Twilight widened her grin. “All those apples were just a bit more... strainful than I thought.”

“Well all right, pardner, if you say so... Here are the bits – one hundred of them, fair and square. I might even commission more someday.”

Twilight’s smile slackened a little. “Please don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, thanks for the bits.”

They exchanged goodbyes and Applejack left.

“You should’ve asked for more; five bits is a robbery,” Rarity said, standing right behind her. “Even a photo would have cost her more – the chief reason why she opted for your paintings, I’d wager.”

“It’s more than I’ve expected. I would’ve done it for free.”

Rarity nodded. “Now, while you were busy painting, I was spreading the word. The next customer should–”

There was knocking on the door. It was slow, weak, and one could almost see the shaky hoof on the other side. “You convinced Fluttershy to get something drawn?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s Fluttershy, darling,” Rarity replied, giving her a mysterious smile.

Twilight cocked her brow and opened the door. “Rainbow Dash? Don’t you usually use the window to make an entrance?”

“Er... hi. Can I commission a picture?” She looked up, down, left, and right, but never directly at either of them.

“Why so unsure? That doesn’t sound like–”

“Can I commission a picture?”

“But–”

“Can. I. Commission. A picture?” Rainbow put an emphasis on every word, gritting her teeth.

“Well, I guess, but–”

“Fine. I’ll give you thirty bits for the picture, and twenty more for keeping your mouth shut about it. That applies for both of you.” She quickly glanced at Rarity before looking away again.

“Why?” Twilight asked.

Rainbow’s cheeks started to get a crimson hue. “You’ll see.” She squeezed around them and practically galloped upstairs.

Twilight moved after her, but was stopped by Rarity’s hoof. “Give her a minute.”

“A minute for what?”

“You’ll see. Just... steel yourself and try not to laugh or make any inappropriate remarks.”

Twilight huffed and shifted in place for exactly sixty seconds, various theories swimming through her head, before teleporting upstairs. What she saw there couldn’t be described better than by her following sentence. “What the hay?”

Rainbow stood there dressed in fishnets, and, more importantly, in something that vaguely resembled the Royal Guard armour. It consisted of a large number of small golden plates organised in a way that made them ‘point’ at her behind, the meaning emphasised by the whip Rainbow held in her mouth. She took it out, her face redder than a tomato, and said, “I don’t wanna hear it, alright?”

“But–”

“Just draw, dammit! And get that armour right, I think he’s got a thing for that.”

Twilight’s expression melted. “Rainbow, I’m sure you can get a coltfriend even without–“

“Look, Twilight,” Rainbow said, sighing and looking her in the eyes for the first time that day. “It was a bet, alright? We were sitting in a pub and drank a bit more than what’s healthy. Somehow, I ended up saying that I bet he can’t surprise me. He said he’s a sergeant of the Royal Guard on leave and that he’ll lock me up so that I can sober up. I was surprised, alright! He didn’t do it in the end, but it was still a shocker. Now it’s my turn to surprise him and...” She blushed even more than before.

“Well, this certainly is surprising...” Twilight said, eyeing the costume again. “Only the wrong kind of surprising!” She pulled Rarity to the side and whispered, “I can’t draw her like this!”

“Why not? Drawing an act is quite common.”

“Yes, but... she’s my friend!”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you never did something stupid while trying to get the colt you want.” She looked at Twilight’s dumbfounded face. “Alright, maybe you didn’t, but almost everypony else did. This is actually quite meek in comparison to what other ponies do... One of my friends bathed in a giant jar of jelly just because she wanted to impress a stallion. In the end it didn’t work out – he was all about blueberries and her jam was strawberry. What I’m trying to say is: It’s just a trivial picture, darling, or would you rather she actually slept with him to... surprise him?”

“No, but,” – Twilight looked at Rainbow again – “this whole situation is wrong! She should just go and say it rather than... this.”

“Twilight, get to work, please, before some passing pegasus sees me through the window,” Rainbow said.

Twilight turned to face her and put on her ‘strict teacher’ face. “I refuse to draw you. It’s inappropriate! Surely there are other ways–”

“If you won’t draw me, fine,” she said, scowling. “But I’ll just go somewhere else and get it done anyway. Do you want some stranger to drool all over the place as he paints it? I’m not going to waste my time with some woochy moochy romantic nonsense like you’d have me. I’ll just go and see how he reacts to this. That’ll give me all the answers I need.”

Twilight turned to Rarity, but she was just looking out the window, as if the whole thing didn’t concern her in the least. There was long pause during which Twilight changed a wide variety of expressions, until she finally settled on a frown. “Fine, I’ll draw it. But only the front! No back shots!”

“Thanks, Twilight.” Rainbow smiled. “Now get to it!”

———

The picture was finished. It took several hours of constant arguing about the most enticing pose and the right expression, of moving Rainbow Dash from place to place in order to get the right amount of light, and even of some painting here and there.

“Finally!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed when Twilight stopped levitating the brush. “Do you have any idea just how boring and totally not awesome those last few hours were?” She frowned at Rarity. “Especially when the only thing anypony here talks about is my clothing and how old-fashioned it is. It’s a sex costume, for Celestia’s sake!”

“Yes, one that is completely out of season.” Rarity turned her muzzle up. “It’s painfully obvious that you’re not keeping with the trends and that you have no sense of style whatsoever.”

Rainbow sighed. “Twilight, can you give me the painting so I can get out of here? Please?”

“Well...” Twilight scratched her head. “You should let it dry first. But I suppose that if you’re careful enough...”

Rainbow threw her the bits and took the picture by the sides. “Don’t worry. Damaging it would mean that I’d have to go through this again, and that’s not happening! Bye!” She stormed out of the building.

“Do you think she realises she’s still in the costume?” Rarity asked.

They heard a loud shriek outside. “I guess she knows now,” Twilight replied, moving towards the door. “I’m just gonna tell her to come back in.”

She opened it, and was immediately knocked to the ground by some unidentified pink object. And very loud one too. “OhmygoshTwilightIheardthatyou’reapaintersoIdecidedtovisitandmaybegetapicturebutthenIsawDashieinareallyreallyreallystrangedresssoI–“

Twilight stuck her hoof in Pinkie’s mouth and shook her from her chest. “Could you just knock next time?”

“No!” Pinkie replied, spitting the hoof out, and laughed. “Where was I? Oh, I know, I saw Dashie in a really, really, really strange dress, so I told her that I like it and asked her if she’d like to play a game with me and maybe get me a dress like hers. She then turned all red like a balloon that is red like a... rose, but the red one, not the white. Also like a rose that is a plant, not Rose. You know, like the rose Rose has as her cutiemark. Well, Dashie got that colour and said she’s not swinging that way, which was weird, since we weren’t dancing, so I told her I didn’t mean a dance, but a game like a pillow fight. Dashie then got even redder and just flew away.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “So... if I’m getting this right, Rainbow now thinks you’re a...”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll handle it later today.” Rarity turned to Pinkie Pie. “But I think you said something about a picture at the beginning?”

Pinkie rubbed her chin. “Did I? I’m not sure, but I’ll take your word for it. I do have something you could draw for me, after all.”

“Wait,” Twilight said, her gaze drilling into Pinkie’s eyes. “It is not anything inappropriate, right?”

“Haha, no. Are we playing a guessing game now? I like guessing. My guess: you didn’t yet read a book about painting, and it’s driving you crazy because you could be doing this all wrong.”

Twilight gave out a shaky laugh. “No, w-why would you think that? Anyway, you don’t want a hundred copies of whatever it is you want me to paint, right?”

“Nope. You’re secretly afraid that by spending all your time with drawing stuff, your magic will degenerate, am I right?”

Twilight started sweating. “Just give me whatever it is you want me to draw, alright?”

“But I’m not even done with the guessing game. For example what–”

“You won, alright? Now give it here!”

Pinkie pulled out a cupcake from... somewhere. “Paint this.” It was a fairly regular cupcake with green frosting and a red cherry on top.

Twilight’s face immediately lit up. “One cupcake? Not a problem; I’ll be done with it in just a half an hour.”She lifted a brush with her magic, only to have it slapped away.

“You can’t paint a cupcake like that, silly!”

“What?”

“Here, paint it with this,” Pinkie said, pulling out a slab of marzipan from out of nowhere. “Also this.” She threw her some frosting, sugar, cinnamon, and a cherry. “Cupcake is sweet, so you have to paint it sweet!”

Twilight looked at Rarity, her eyes quietly pleading. Rarity smiled. “Well, darling, I think that unorthodox painting styles should be exercised too. This is, in essence, a collage, although a very weird one; I admit. But nothing you wouldn’t be able to handle.”

“Seriously?” Twilight asked, her brow shooting up. “I’m a confectioner now?”

“You have the wrong attitude, darling. This is not some sort of punishment; this is an opportunity to try your hoof at something new!”

“I’ve had it with trying new things!” Twilight shouted. “It gets sillier by the hour!”

Pinkie smiled. “Silly is fun.”

Before Twilight had the chance to incinerate her, Rarity walked in between them. “Just this one last thing, darling, please. After that, you’ll have the rest of the day free; I promise.”

“Not enough. You have to promise me you won’t bug me with ‘trying new things’ tomorrow and that you won’t write any more letters to Princess Celestia.”

Rarity nodded. “I promise.”

Twilight looked at the marzipan like one would look at a made-by-Sweetie-Belle toast. “Let’s get over with this.”

She smeared a thin layer of wet sugar on the marzipan first, creating a sticky surface, on which she then poured some cinnamon. Soon, the base was finished, the darker spots having more of the brown dust than the lighter ones. The frosting, while seemingly easy at first, proved to be quite a challenge to shade – the strange drawing method didn’t mean she was going to neglect anything. In the end, she used sprinkles to fix that. Finally, when everything else was done, she placed a little cherry at the top, making a dent for it in the marzipan. The whole thing took less than an hour.

“Well, this wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Twilight said, looking at her work with a smile.

“Not bad at all, darling.” Rarity stared at the picture, her eyes practically tasting this eye candy. “Actually, it’s not just ‘not bad’, it’s great! Ponies drew food that created an image, but drawing with the actual food... You’re a genius. Sadly, it probably won’t last long before getting spoiled, so we might have to take a photo.”

“Don’t worry about that, Rarity,” Pinkie said, grinning. “I have it all under control.” With that, she grabbed the decorated treat and took a large bite. “Mmm... Tastes yummy.”

Both Twilight and Rarity stared at it with their mouth open. “You... you just destroyed it.” Rarity said in a weak voice. “A completely new direction of art... eaten.”

“I can’t believe I spent an hour making you a meal!” Twilight threw her hooves into the air. “I didn’t even have to bother with all those details.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said, taking another bite. “I was wondering why you fussed with it so much. I mean it wasn’t like I wanted to hang it somewhere or something. By the way, where’s Spike?”

Twilight grate her teeth, almost grounding them. “He had ‘funny’ comments about my new ‘hobby’, so I sent him to clean all the mould from my basement.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.” Pinkie sat down and supported her chin with her hoof. “More like a punishment. But you wouldn’t punish him unless you were angry. Are you angry, Twilight?” She took a long look into Twilight’s bloodshot eyes and listened to the sound of the screeching enamel.

“Uh... I think it’s time for me to leave,” she said with a fake smile, pressing the confection to her chest and retreating towards the door. “I mean I have to get back to the bakery to do... stuff.” Her eyes jumped from one face to the other, both of which looked murderously. “Bye!” She left even faster than Rainbow Dash did.

“I am terribly sorry for this, darling,” Rarity said, running her hoof through her mane. “If I knew she was going to do this... Well, I suppose I should have expected it. It’s Pinkie Pie we’re talking about, after all.”

“It’s fine,” Twilight replied, taking a deep breath. “I just need some time alone to calm down; maybe re-shelve a few books.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Rarity smiled. “I’m afraid that I’ve been neglecting my boutique a bit too much these last two days, so I won’t be able to come tomorrow. But I’m sure you can handle it on your own.”

Twilight returned the smile. “Definitely.”

———

The sun slowly rose from behind the hills, its rays bathing the world in golden honey. They climbed down the tree branches, waking the birds, and poured through the glass window into the room beyond, shedding some light onto the numerous wise tomes in the shelves. Among those racks, they also found a sleeping mare. She shifted a bit, her eyes getting used to the sudden brightness, and smiled.

Then, a hearty sound of knocks falling onto the ancient oaken door reverberated through the air, as if announcing the beautiful day outside and inviting the inhabitants to go play under the vibrant sun.

An ear flinched, soon followed by the rest of her body as the mare stretched her legs and looked at the clock. “Yaaargh!” she roared, scaring the birds away from the roof. “Five o’clock! It’s five o’clock! The library better be on fire, because that’s just about the only thing that could justify this!”

She walked to the ugly, rotten door that she should have changed a year ago and flung them open, shouting, “What?”

She was staring right into the face of Mayor Mare. “Hello... Twilight Sparkle, was it?”

While Twilight no longer shouted, her gaze remained hostile and drilled its way into the Mayor’s skull. “Yes?”

“I heard you’re a pa–”

“Yes, I guess I am a painter now! So what? Is that a reason to wake me up at five o’clock in the morning?”

Mayor Mare chuckled. “Of course it is. How else would I get at the beginning of the line than by promising them to wake you up?”

“What line?” Twilight asked narrowing her eyes.

“That line.” She pointed at a large crowd of ponies behind her.

“What the...?” Twilight was left gaping. It must have been at least a half of Ponyville! “They all want a picture?”

The Mayor nodded. “Some of them two. But first, allow me to congratulate you on your success. An artist is sure to draw some tourists here, so make sure you shine!”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Now, with the pleasantries out of the way, will you paint something for me?” She gave her a wide grin.

“If you insist.” Twilight sighed. “What would you like me to make?”

“I don’t care.”

“What do you mean? I need to know what to paint before getting to it!”

"I don’t care in the least. Anything goes. Once you’re famous, anything you created will quadruple in price, maybe more!”

Twilight rolled her eyes, lifting a pencil and making one line with it on a nearby paper. “Here; that’ll be fifty bits.”

“Fifty bits?”

“Yes, but only because it’s you.” Twilight sneered. “I call it ‘The Line of Bad Judgement.’”

“What’s happenin’, Twi?” Spike asked, climbing out of his basket and yawning.

“I think I’m just being tested,” Twilight replied, shaking hooves with the Mayor. “There’s no way so many ponies would have came here otherwise.” She took a long look at the still growing line. “Yes, this is a test from the Princess to prove my skills and mettle, and I’m going to pass it!”

“How?”

“By painting it all.”

———

Fluttershy stood in front of the library, shaking a bit in the night’s chilly air, and daintily knocked at the door. “Um... h–hello, Twilight,” she said, slowly walking inside. “I’m sorry; I know you were working hard for the last three days and didn’t have the time to sleep, but Angel really wants a picture. So if it isn’t a bother–“

Twilight’s mane was sticking out in every direction, her tail half-burnt from the candles. She also sported a multi-coloured coat, sticky from all the paint, and a black beret, together with an always-present grin that looked more like it was chiselled there rather than to be an expression of excitement.

“Of course, of course! Come right in! A picture ain’t a picture until it is hanging from a fixture, and a fixture ain’t a fixture until it has a corresponding picture. And I have a surplus of fixtures. Do you know what that means, Fluttershy?”

“You don’t look so well.”

“It means that I need more pictures, otherwise the fixtures won’t be fixtures and without them also no pictures! And if I don’t have any pictures or fixtures, then I’m not a painter. But...” She dramatically pointed at her hat. “This beret I’m wearing says otherwise. It would mean a paradox that could destroy the whole universe! So, for the sake of our reality, please do have a request.”

Fluttershy shivered. “Are you all alone in here? Where’s Spike?”

“Spike went to sleep at Rarity’s, saying that he can’t bear with me anymore, the fool. It’s just” – she looked at the clock – “two in the morning! A great time to work, as I realised these past few days. So yes, it’s just me and the customers here. Speaking of which – how many more are there?”

“I’m the last one. They kept cutting in front of me at the line, but that’s alright.” She smiled. “They must’ve been in a hurry.”

There was a weird glint in Twilight’s eyes. “Of course... The test. The final challenge is naturally one of my friends. It’s the time to show all I’ve got!” She pressed her head against Fluttershy’s, staring her in the eyes. “So tell me, my friend, what kind of picture do you want to hang on your fixture?” Drops of her saliva flew through the air and landed on Fluttershy’s muzzle, making her flinch.

“A–Angel refuses to eat unless you make him a painting.”

“Very well.” Twilight turned her bloody eyes on the little rabbit. “Show me the pose.”

Angel motioned Fluttershy to lay on the ground. He then jumped on top of her, placing his foot on her head like he just slew a mighty monster. To make the pose complete, he also threw a little speck of dust in her eyes, making her shed a few tears that glistened in the moonlight on her cheeks.

“Wonderful, wonderful! Stay just like that.” She took a brush and started painting, muttering, “Have to show what isn’t there for it to show what is. But also have to show what is there. Careful not to hide one behind the other.”

It was not an easy night for Fluttershy. Twilight kept mumbling unintelligibly all the time, she had to lie on the cold floor without even the slightest movement for hours, and every time her tears had dried, she could expect a fresh dust delivery from Angel. That poor little bunny had to stay awake too, so no wonder he was being cranky!

In the morning, Twilight finally released the brush and looked at the painting from a distance. She aimed her horn at it. “I have to prove that I haven’t been neglecting my magic studies, right?” She looked at Fluttershy. “But I was!” She glared at her, her eyes widened and pupils contracted. “She won’t find out. I’ll prove that my magic is as powerful as ever!”

She sent a large, red ray into the painting. “Here you go, Fluttershy,” she said, hoofing her the picture and gasping for air. “I hope you... that you’re... satis...fied.” She collapsed on the ground.

———

Ugh... What happened?

Twilight opened her eyes, groaning. My head... She found herself lying in her bed, her coat pristine. She quickly reached to the top of her head. Who took my beret?

She rolled to her left, ending up falling on the floor. “Oww...” She slowly stood up, her legs feeling weak and feeble. What the hay was I doing last night? I don’t remember any party... Then again, that’s the case with the majority of Pinkie’s parties.

“Spike?” she called out. “Spike, where are you?” She walked to his basket, only to find it empty. “Spike!”

“He’s not here, darling,” said a voice from downstairs.

“Rarity?” She walked down the stairs and saw her sitting by the table, reading some book. “What are you doing in my house?”

Rarity put the book aside. “Well, this is a public library. But I’m here for you rather than for the books, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

Rarity smiled. “After you collapsed yesterday, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and I have been taking turns making sure you’re alright. Applejack couldn’t with all the work at the farm, but wants you to know she wishes for your quick recovery.”

Twilight pulled herself a chair. “Collapsed?” She frowned. “And what about you? Shouldn’t you be taking care of the boutique?”

Rarity’s smile widened. “Darling, it’s Sunday.”

“No way,” Twilight said, giving out a shaky laughter. “Today’s Friday. I mean mixing up days? I couldn’t have been that drunk.”

“You weren’t drunk.” Rarity frowned. “You spent Friday by painting and Saturday by sleeping. Don’t you remember it?”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “I remember... painting. It was definitely still Thursday though, and the sun looked like it was about to set. I was so tired... After that, everything gets kinda fuzzy.”

“Well, darling, you kept painting and the collapsed. Right after making a picture for Fluttershy. She then tucked you in and called us all to help. There wasn’t much we could do, but she was adamant that you needed some supervision. Perhaps your... unique visage I heard so much about from your customers scared her a bit?”

“My visage?” She cocked her brow. “I remember being a bit dirty from the pain and–“

“A bit? I had to practically chisel it off of you!”

Wait...” Twilight massaged her temples. “Are you saying you cleaned me while I slept?”

“I’m not sure if it could still be called sleep at that point; I doubt a cannon firing next to you would have woken you up, much less a bath. Actually, Pinkie proposed that cannon thing at one point, but I and Fluttershy thought it best to let you rest. Well, after cleaning you up, of course... Are you blushing?”

“What? Er... no, of course not.” She quickly turned away. “Thanks for the bath. I bet Spike would have preffered you in the water than me. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“He was by your side too at the beginning, but gradually looked more and more bored. When he proposed organising a puppet play with you as the main actor, I sent him out to play with Sweetie.”

“Yeah, figures.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “I also remember having a beret. Any idea where it is?”

Rarity suddenly became extremely interested in her hoof, examining it from every angle and, naturally, not looking at Twilight anymore. “Oh, that thing... I burned it.”

“You did what now?”

“I burned it. It was way too cliché, didn’t really suit you, and it was dirty from the paint a bit. So I disposed of it for you.”

Twilight frowned. “I liked it. It made me feel classy.”

“Believe me, it was really just a feeling,” Rarity said with a friendly smile. “But I could make a dress for you, if you’d like. No berets, however. They really, really aren’t your thing; trust me.”

“No need to.” Suddenly, her head bobbed to the side. “Did you say I made Fluttershy a picture? What was it about?”

Rarity smiled. “Thank you for bringing that up, I was actually just about to speak of it myself. It looked magnificent. One of the best pieces I’ve ever seen – it looked so real, as if even moving when one wasn’t looking at it. The message was indeed very, very dark, but it was expressed masterfully.” She furrowed her brow. “A bit weird for Fluttershy to commission something like that. Nevertheless, I made a photo of it and sent it to the Princess.”

Twilight gasped and gave Rarity a stern look. “I thought you promised to not send any letters to–”

“To Princess Celestia, yes. That’s why I sent this one to Princess Luna.” Rarity simply beamed. “And her reply – you might want to hold to something for this – her reply was that she arranged an interview at the Canterlot Royal Art School! If you impress them enough, they might accept you!” She squeed.

“Seriously?” Twilight sighed. “We were over this already – no art school for me! Apart from the pressure and stress, it would also mean I’d have to move from Ponyville! Is that what you want?”

“The Princess arranged it so that you’ll get a private tutor that will live here in Ponyville. Only if you’re accepted, of course. But it’s not like that’s any problem. You’re going to art school!” She practically jumped up and down, resembling her younger sister more than ever before.

“And the details? Like the time and place?”

“Well, for obvious reasons, I didn’t write about your collapse, so the chariot that will take us to Canterlot should be here in half an hour. Then, you’ll be taken to the school, where you’ll take a simple little test.”

Twilight’s face suddenly lost all colour. “A test. Half an hour.”

“Yes, I know. Just half an hour and a test later, you’ll officially be a painter. Isn’t that simply marvellous?”

———

“Miss... Sparkle, is it?” a gray, old stallion said in a raspy voice, his glasses as thick as ashtrays. “I’ve heard about you but never had the pleasure.”

“Really?” Twilight smiled, her whole expression lighting up. “What did you hear? About how I defeated Discord? Or perhaps Nightmare Moon? Maybe about my role during the wed–”

“Say what?” he asked, scratching his chin through the swirling mass of his long, white beard. “No, I heard about you in connection with your recent painting achievements – ‘The Line of Bad Judgement’... I admit it made me chuckle.” He smiled, showing his yellow teeth. Or at least the few that remained there. “Who is this Discord fella? Perhaps another young artist that you beat in a competition?”

“You mean you haven’t heard?” Twilight stared at him like he just said that the world circled around the Sun. “I thought everypony has heard!”

His hole-ridden smile vanished. “Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t keep up with the current affairs as much as I probably should, but that’s only because my profession and passion take up all of my time. And I don’t think one should brag as much as you do – pride goes before the fall!”

“I wasn’t bragging,” Twilight said, pouting.

“It sure sounded like bragging to me. But we are not here for that, are we? You want to enroll on this school, yes?”

“Well, actu–”

“Your enthusiasm is natural.” He started nodding, a smile once again ravaging his face. “After all, who wouldn’t want to study at the best school in Canterlot? No, wait, differently. At the best school in Equestria?”

“’Best school’?” Twilight jumped up from her seat. “What about Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns? Forgot about that one?”

He sneered. “Gifted... Pffft, sure. Most of those ‘gifted’ students wouldn’t know which side of brush to paint with! Plus they only teach unicorns. We,” – he puffed out his chest – “provide education to all.”

Twilight bit her lip, sitting down with a scowl on her face.

“Now, the test.” He turned around and dug the painting gear out of a nearby crate. “Here. Now, let’s start with something easy. Paint my face.”

Twilight nodded and got to work. All the wrinkles were a bit difficult to get right, but in the end, she presented him with a near-perfect copy of his head.

“Hm...” he stared at the picture, stroking his beard. “Mediocre. You used only the basic techniques and it lacks innovation. It’s enough to pass this part of the test, but only just. Let’s hope you’ll fare better now.” He hoofed her a large stack of papers. “Theory.”

Twilight’s face immediately discoloured. “A theory test?”

“Yes, anything wrong with that?”

“It’s just...” Twilight seemed to sink more and more under the table desk. “I probably didn’t study for it as much as I ought to.”

“Well...” He started stroking his beard again. “If you do the third part excellently, then it won’t matter. But give this a try; I’m sure you must know something.”

Twilight gave him a nod, her eyes teary as she looked at the questions. Her nightmares were all coming true! ‘Breakfasting the grass’... how was she supposed to know who the hay drew it?

In the end, she hoofed him the papers, her eyes digging down into the table.

“Let’s see...” He started listing through the papers. At first, it was slow. Then his speed increased as he hit the empty pages. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Tears started to run down her face. “I didn’t know the answers, so I left the space blank!”

“But almost everything here is left blank!” His mouth opened several times, no sound coming out. “This... this is the worst test I’ve ever graded! How long did you study for this? Half an hour?”

“Well...”

“You don’t know who Trotyen was?”

“I...”

“This is horrible. Simply disastrous.” He sighed, massaging his temples. “Doesn’t matter... theory can be learnt. It’s the talent that’s important, and I heard you do have some. But unless your next assignment ends with a masterpiece, I’m afraid that you’ll have to do without this school.”

Come to think of it, isn’t that actually exactly what I want? If it looks like I just lack the abilities, then the Princess won’t have a reason to be disappointed – it won’t be my fault. And this stallion right here looks like he could convince her about that in a minute! “Sir, what exactly will happen if I’m accepted?”

He raised his brow. “Weren’t you informed by the Princess? Due to your... other occupations,” – he snorted at this – “you’ll get a personal tutor that will teach you in Ponyville.”

“And who will be that tutor?”

The stallion’s face split into a wide, yellow grin. “Me, of course.”

The cranky, old, holier-than-thou zombie? No. No way! “That’s... really good to hear.” She gave him a nervous laugh. “And what will happen if I don’t pass the test?”

“Well, I suppose you would just go back home and continue watching the mould grow in your basement, or whatever it is you mages do all day.”

She barely contained a huff and smiled instead. “I see. So, either I pass and you come home with me, or I fail and everything will be just like it used to, right? No punishment or anything, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then give me the last part, I’m ready,” she said, her eyes shining like a light bulb.

He led her towards an easel with canvas. “Now go and paint whatever you want. And I mean literally anything. Just show me what you’ve got.” He then left the room.

Twilight nodded and got to work. She randomly swung the brush in any direction, changed colours without even looking, threw her palette on it a few times, and generally made it into one large mishmash. The result was a swirling mass of colours that vaguely reminded Twilight of expired spaghetti and spilled juice.

“Alright, I think it’s finished!”

“Really? That was fast.” The teacher walked back in, his glasses falling down from his nose when he saw the attrocity in front of him. “What the...? What is...? How did...?”

“I understand,” Twilight said, forcing her lips down. “After all, not all of us can be great artists. I’ll just go pack my things and–“

“And come with me to the national gallery. Yes.”

Twilight froze mid-step. “Come again?”

“I’ve heard about it countless times,” he said, his cheeks bathing in tears. “Yet I always criticised it, considering it nothing more than untalented garbage. But today, today I finally see it. The very meaning of modern art! It’s beautiful... so beautiful!”

“No, it’s not!” Twilight pushed his muzzle nearer to the picture. “Look at it! It’s rubbish! I obviously didn’t pass the test and have to go home alone now! Look.” She hoofed him his glasses. “Look and say it’s bad!”

He squinted at it from behind his ashtrays. “It’s wonderful.”

“It’s just some random scrabble!”

“A scrabble that wonderfully displays the nature of a tormented soul. Pack your things, we’re going to the gallery... maestro.”

Twilight gave him an ugly look and stomped off the room into the hallway outside.

“How did it go, darling?” Rarity asked.

“Horribly!”

“You mean you didn’t get accepted?” Rarity gasped. “What happened?”

“I did get accepted,” Twilight uttered in between her clenched teeth. “Right now, that old featherbrain is taking my picture to the national gallery.”

Rarity recoiled a bit. “Well... isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, it’s not!” Twilight shouted, wildly gesticulating. “Firstly, I’ll have to deal with having him at my back for the next few years, suffering his ‘funny’ remarks about magic. Secondly, I just made a ‘masterpiece’ that looks worse than... than me in a beret!”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Oh my... is it really that bad? Why would you draw something like that?”

“Yeah...” Twilight said, the fire in her eyes dying down. “I wanted to fail.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t like this! I just want things like they used to be. I know what you and Princess Celestia said, but I really just want to go back to my ‘mouldy basement’ and practice some magic. I’ve never been the social type, so please understand that being constantly in the limelight doesn’t sound as enticing as it must sound to you.”

There was a long pause that seemed to last for an eternity. “I... do understand,” Rarity finally said, her eyes glued to the ground. “I suppose I had no right to force you into this like I did and I apologise. Let’s just go to the gallery and tell them how things are.”

“But what about the Princess?”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. And if not, we’ll show her your picture – if it’s as horrible as you say, she won’t be able to object.”

Twilight nodded. “To the gallery then.”

———

The National Gallery of Equestria was a vast complex of buildings that contained the history and art of the last several millennia. The pieces displayed ranged from the ornate spears of the pre-equestrian ages to the newest models of useless but good-looking brooms and were guarded by a whole battalion of guards. These things were safer than the Elements of Harmony! And now, Twilight’s rubbish painting was to be a part of that.

“This is going to be so humiliating,” she said, looking at the white fabric covering her shame on the nearby wall. Once it’s down, her reputation as a painter will be gone. Which was good – no more requests, but it still didn’t feel pleasant.

“...and without any further ado, I present to you ‘The Spaghetti of Soul’!”

Twilight blushed while Rarity rolled her eyes. “You could have at least given it a presentable name.”

“Yes, the name is a bit awkward,” the old stallion said, “but it’s the painting that’s important, not how it’s called!”

Yeah, just go right ahead and rub some more salt into the wound.

He pulled the cloth away, revealing ‘the very meaning of modern art’. Immediately, there were ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the artistic side of the public, and various mumbling from the common part.

“Say, isn’t that beautiful?” he asked.

“It is! Marvellous! Bravissimo!” shouted various bereted figures and clopped on the ground, while the rest stayed quiet, carefully nodding here and there.

“Why aren’t they hating it?” Twilight whispered to Rarity.

“If you look,” – Rarity pointed at the clopping silhouettes – “all those artists make modern art themselves; they have weird tastes. And the rest... well, they aren’t going to argue with professionals.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “You mean...”

“That this might even turn into success, yes.”

“No way!” Twilight said, her face reddening. “Hey!” she yelled. “It looks terrible! What are you trying to achieve here – make us all look like fools?” She ducked before they could find out who exactly shouted it.

“Yeah... she’s right! It’s just some mishmash with a stupid name!” shouted somepony in the crowd.

Give me a break!

“My five years old son could draw better than this!” shouted another.

“You’re just trying to milk us of money!”

What followed was a complete uproar. The angry, uncultured mob rolled forward, rushing towards the painting, while the artists formed a cordon and used their brushes – which they pulled out from under their berets – as spears to keep the barbarians away. The old art professor just stood in the middle, yelling something about the end of civilised word and spraying the crowd with paint from the tubes behind his belt.

Twilight leaned to Rarity. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Agreed.”

———

“Ponyville, sweet Ponyville,” Twilight said, taking a deep breath of the earthy, manure-filled village air.

“Shouldn’t we have told them at least something? Like that you quit?” Rarity asked, covering her ears from the locomotive’s whistling.

“If they survived, I’ll send them a letter.”

“What’s that?” Rarity suddenly asked, pointing at some black dot on the horizon.

“I think it’s getting closer.”

“Perhaps a pony then?”

Twilight gazed at the figure in the distance. “It has a hat... Isn’t that Applejack? Why is she running?”

“Perhaps she needs help building a barn yet again?”

“She’s shouting something.”

Rarity squinted at Applejack’s mouth. “It’s one word. It looks like... barn? She really wants us to build a barn.”

“Again? We built the last one like a month ago!”

“No, wait.” Rarity held up her hoof. “It’s not ‘barn’, it’s... run? She wants us to run.”

“Run where?”

“Or maybe run from something. I think there’s something behind her.”

Straining her eyes, Twilight really did see some vague shade following Applejack. “It looks... rectangular. Quite fast and appears to be flying. But I don’t see any wings.”

“Do you think we should run?”

“Nah.” Twilight chuckled. “I’m sure I can deal with whatever it is and besides, I think we’ve ran enough times today.”

“I don’t know, Twilight. Applejack looks frightened and she’s not one to be scared easily. It almost looks like she’s being chased by...” Rarity’s face got even whiter in colour than normal. “Run!”

“I don’t understand,” Twilight said, turning after the fleeing mare. “What could be so frightening?” She looked back at the flying rectangle. “Time to send you back wherever you came from, whatever you are.”

Five minutes later, Twilight was running side by side with Rarity and Applejack, her eyes full of tears. “That... That’s horrible!”

“I shall bring your souls to the underworld, torture them, and let Cerberus feast on your fetid flesh!” shouted the evil rectangle behind them.

“What is that thing and why is it chasing us?” Twilight asked in-between sobs.

“You shall pay for imprisoning me! You shall rue the day you thought you could bind Alecto!”

“Alecto?” Twilight exclaimed, hastening her already rapid retreat.

“Who the hay is she? She keeps shoutin’ her name like we should know her!”

“Just run!” Twilight risked one peek behind her, staring at the painting of Angel standing on Fluttershy, his eyes glowing with otherworldly fire. It only made her run faster.

They bolted around a corner and sped inside nearby shed, closing the door behind them. The evil picture continued cursing them, their ancestors and their children, but didn’t force it’s way in.

“What the hay is that thing? And why did you bind it there?” Applejack said, huffing.

“How should I know? I don’t even remember painting it!” Twilight sighed and sat on the ground, staring at the door as if they should explode any second. “She’s one of the three furies. Her name means ‘the never-ending anger.’”

“What is a furia?” Rarity asked.

“A furia is a mythical creature that is supposed to bring criminals to madness and suicide.”

“Suicide? You mean she can’t actually kill us herself?” Rarity asked again, her eyes glimmering.

Twilight gave her a sour look. “Care to find out?”

“It can’t harm us?” Applejack’s head shoot up and her brow furrowed. “I was runnin’ like a headless chicken from a darn picture that can’t even harm me?”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant! It was sarcasm!” Twilight shouted, but Applejack was already opening the door.

She fixed the canvas with her eyes. “I’m no fool, ya know?” She quickly sped to it and turned by one hundred eighty degrees and bucked right into Angel’s face, ripping a hole in it. The painting fell to the ground lifelessly.

“So...” Applejack scratched her head, standing above the torn fabric and looking back at the two mares in the shed. “I take it that’s it? It’ll leave us be from now on?”

Twilight walked to her and nodded. “Probably. You released it so it shouldn’t bother us anymore. Or it’ll return for revenge and will drive us all to madness and suicide. Only time will tell.”

“That sounds bad,” Rarity said. “Isn’t there anything we could do?”

“Don’t lose hope that it won’t happen? That’s about as much as you can do. By the way, why were you running from it if it was harmless, Applejack?”

Applejack rolled her eyes and sighed. “Twilight, when a picture starts flyin’, its eyes glowin’, and shoutin’ that it’ll grill you over a bonfire, you don’t wait to see if it can do anything and just run.”

“Makes sense I guess. How much damage did it do?”

“Not much. Only Fluttershy will probably need some convincing to crawl out of the chicken coop.”

“Well,” – Twilight smiled – “at least ponies won’t request paintings from me so much anymore.”

“Funny that you mention that...” Applejack said in a nervous voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that the welcome in Ponyville won’t be one of the warmest. Most of the things you painted ended up... badly.”

“Badly?”

“Well, take Mayor Mare, for example. She’s the laughin’ stock of the town now, seein’ how she spent so many bits on a single line.”

“It seemed kinda appropriate at the time... but I suppose she didn’t deserve that.”

“Then there’s Rainbow Dash. Turns out that colt of her’s was married. She got angry and just dumped the painting after that, but some rascal took a photo of it and now it circulates around the town’s stallions. RD now spends all her time trackin’ down all the copies. Big Mac had three...”

“I told her it was a bad idea!”

“And then there are my advertisements. I though having it made as a painting was genius! It would demonstrate our proud traditional ways. Well, guess what – one rain and it’s all gone. I really didn’t think this one through...”

Twilight attempted for a smile. “Well, at least Pinkie Pie is happy, right?”

“She had to get her stomach pumped out.”

“It think it’s time to just give up then,” Twilight said, sighing. “Let’s take the walk of shame to the library and end this whole story with a nice period.”

———

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that one should do what she likes in her life, not what others, including certain princesses, tell her she ought to do. While it’s certainly important to develop your talents, there’s no point in it if you don’t actually enjoy it. Considering what happened at the gallery (could you send everypony injured some flowers for me?), I think I’ll stick to magic.

Your most faithful and slightly annoyed student,
Twilight Sparkle

THE END