Midnight Mirror

“Twilight Sparkle, get UP!”

Twilight groaned at the voice, stubbornly burying her head beneath a pillow. This protected her for all of a split second before the pillow was ripped away and a burst of magic dumped her unceremoniously on the floor, staring groggily up into the glaring face above her.

“Morning, Mom…” she muttered.

Her mother snorted, tossing her purple and white mane in annoyance. “Not for very much longer, it isn’t. It’s already after eleven! Move, move! Lunch - or should I say breakfast - in five minutes, and then you’re off to work! Honestly, such a lazy daughter, where did you get it from…?” Continuing to grumble complaints, she stalked out of the room, leaving Twilight to push herself off the floor and begin preparing for her day.

It had been a full month since her encounter with royalty, and Twilight’s life had returned to its usual level of tedium. Her job at the library gave her no more surprises, and her home life was just as dull as ever - a constant stream of ‘When are you going to move out,’ ‘Why don’t you have a coltfriend yet,’ ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother,’ and the always charming, ‘Tell me you’re not into mares.’ It was all enough to make her wish she could move out, but on an assistant librarian’s meager salary, it was either with her parents or in the cheapest housing Canterlot had to offer - and despite her gripes, Twilight’s mother would never have part of her family living so… common.

Yes, Twilight Sparkle was of noble heritage. A small house to begin with, which had only seen decline in recent generations, but that didn’t stop them from carrying themselves as nobles should. Unsurprisingly, Twilight was something of a black sheep in the family. The touched filly more interested in the stars and books than in anything that mattered. If it wasn’t for Shining Armor, the elders would say, the family’s name wouldn’t last another generation for sure. Twilight Sparkle was lucky they hadn’t simply disowned her entirely. In truth, Twilight knew they likely would have, except there was a small bit of prestige in becoming the Canterlot library’s head librarian, the position which the bookish pony was expected to be next in line for. Who else knew the library as well as her, after all? Desperate as they were for all the recognition they could get, that one chance at that slimmer of status was all that kept her tolerated with her own blood.

But Twilight always tried not to care much about family politics - and besides, thinking about it was only slowing her down. Barely pausing to brush away her bedmane, she trotted downstairs to snap up a quick bite before work. Even as she did, her mind drifted back again to that evening one month prior, as it had most every day since it happened. Would something so interesting ever happen to her again?

“Twilight Sparkle, quit daydreaming and get to work!”

Twilight practically jumped to military attention at the raspy voice. “Yes, Mr. Edition! What do you need me to do?”

The old gray unicorn brushed at what little remained of his white mane - a motion Twilight learned long ago meant her employer was annoyed. And when First Edition was annoyed….

“I’ve decided non-fiction needs to be reorganized. Historical accounts need to be closer to the front desk than biographies, switch them. Organize history by date, and biography by name. And so help me Celestia, if a single book is out of place….” He let his threat drift off there, a warning look in his eye.

The old stallion’s mood was always clear by the amount of work he inflicted upon his staff, and this? This was easily the heftiest (and most ridiculous) task he had ever demanded of Twilight, History and Biography being two of the library’s larger sections. In fact, she’d only heard of one worse from before her time - when he had introduced an entirely new organization system while the nobles debated the merits of cutting the library’s funding in half.

Twilight was dreading the task, but knew better than to argue with First Edition when he was in a mood, so simply nodded sharply. “I’m on it!” she declared, trotting briskly away. With a thought, though, she paused, glancing back at the old librarian. “Is… everything all right, sir?” she asked hesitantly.

“Go!” the old stallion snapped with more force than most ponies half his age could manage, sending Twilight scampering for the shelves.

It took the better part of her shift for Twilight to complete her task, the sun beginning to drift down below the horizon as she returned to the front desk. First Edition sat behind it, staring at the wall with a blank expression, causing Twilight to subconsciously walk more softly as she approached.

“I, um, I finished the job, Mr. Edition,” she offered quietly.

The old stallion gave a small grunt, not even turning to look at her. “What do you want, a medal?” he grumbled. Twilight hesitated, not sure how to respond, but before she could slink away to find some other task to fill her time, the librarian finally glanced her way. “They were pushing for me to retire again today. Damned nobles can’t wait for someone with ‘proper’ blood to take over again, so’s my common hooves stop dirtying the position,” he told her with a derisive snort.

“Mr. Edition, I don’t-” she began, but was cut off with a wave of her employer’s hoof.

“Stupid girl, I know you’ve got nothing to do with it. You’ve worked here long enough I know you’ve got the exact opposite problem of those posh idiots - they want everything, you don’t try for anything. ‘Course you aren’t working on pushing me out of the way.” Murky brown eyes glared at the ceiling. “Almost makes it sting worse, that.”

Twilight didn’t respond. Not only did she have no clue what to say, talking to ponies not being her forte, it seemed First Edition was more in a ranting mood than anything else. Besides, this likely wasn’t the cause for today’s mood. There had been nobles after him to retire since he began qualifying for senior discounts. It was practically part of his job to deal with that, now.

“But do you know what just makes everything better?” First Edition added sarcastically, immediately confirming Twilight’s suspicions. “Received a wonderful bit of news this morning. It’s not public knowledge yet, so you won’t have heard. It’ll be all over soon enough though. A royal decree like this? There should be riots. There won’t be, of course, Luna-damned illiterate masses….”

Twilight waited out his grumbling - having learned through harsh experience never to interrupt her boss, even just to get him back on track - and was soon rewarded by his eyes finding the mare again. With a deadpan voice, he simply said, “They’re banning books.”

“What?!” Twilight yelped despite herself. Of all the possibilities she had considered, that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No - no more books? They’re just - that’s impossible - they can’t just up and-!”

Her stammering was cut off by First Edition slamming a hoof on the desk. “Idiot, not all books! You’re supposed to have a brain, use it, girl!” he snapped. “They’ve got a list. ‘From this day forth, all following books are henceforth banned, punishable by yadda yadda,’ he recited with scorn.

Well, that wasn’t quite as bad. “Still…” Twilight said softly, glancing out over the library. Restraining knowledge like that? By royal decree? She couldn’t imagine. No wonder First Edition was in such a poor mood - books were his life as much as hers.

Speaking of the old librarian, his anger had drained, and he was once again staring at the wall with a dejected expression. “We’re closing early tonight,” he said flatly, not looking at her. “Run back home. And remember - don’t talk to anyone about this. It’s not public knowledge ‘til the decree’s announced officially.”

Twilight sat on a grassy hill, looking up at the night sky. Beside her lay her favorite telescope - an older one, showing its age in wear and tear and which could easily be replaced for practically a pittance, but of course Twilight never would if she could help it. It was silly, getting attached to an inanimate object, but it had been with her through so much. It was basically the reason she had gotten her cutie mark. She smiled at the memory, as her eyes drifted over the constellations.

That’s what she had come out here for tonight - there was nothing that put her at peace so much as sitting on her favorite hill, observing her favorite stars. And she needed peace today. First Edition’s news would have been jarring to the mare even if her job hadn’t been affected.

‘Royal decree,’ he had said, and she found her lips forming the words again. One of the princesses had decided this, then. Which one? She had only seen her for a brief moment, but Princess Luna had quickly seemed to be the sort of pony who valued knowledge - she had come all the way to them because she couldn’t find a book elsewhere, after all. But with everything she had heard about Princess Celestia, Twilight couldn’t think of any reason the benevolent sun princess would want to limit information, either. Something was going on, but it was so far beyond Twilight’s position that she couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on.

Twilight shook her head roughly, trying to clear her mind. She had come out here so she didn’t have to think of that, after all! She moved back to her telescope, adjusting the focus as she scanned the sky for points of interest. Rigel did seem surprisingly bright tonight, perhaps she’d start there.

Before she could, however, she caught a more surprising sight - a pegasus flying in her direction. Pegasi never flew at night if they could help it - they relied on their eyes almost as much as their wings in the air, and without the sun there just wasn’t enough light. But there he was, an electric-blue pegasus shining in the moonlit sky. The only thing that surprised her more was when the pegasus landed beside her.

“Twilight Sparkle?” the pegasus - at this range clearly a stallion - asked curtly. Shocked, Twilight could only nod mutely. Without another word, the pegasus tugged out an envelope that had been concealed within his wings, pushing it into Twilight’s hooves. Before she could ask what was going on, the pegasus gave a flap, lifting back into the sky and hurtling off.

For a moment, Twilight just stared after the stallion, too surprised and confused to react. Slowly, her eyes drifted to the envelope still in her hoof. It was plain white, the front completely unmarked, but the strange delivery made even that ordinary sight seem bizarre. She turned it over, preparing to open it, when she noticed the seal. The seal that looked nothing like the usual wax, catching and reflecting the moonlight in a way Twilight had never seen before.

The seal in the shape of the Emblem of the Night.