I Forgot I Was There

by GaPJaxie

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Main 6, Comedy
Length: 110007

Twilight accidentally brings her reflection to life, forcing her to confront her neurosis.

When Twilight receives one of the original journals of Starswirl the Bearded from Princess Luna, she can't wait to try the spells inside it, but the book's magic turns out to be a bit more than Twilight can handle, as her reckless experimentation leads to her accidentally bringing her reflection to life. At first, Twilight decides she quite likes the idea of having a copy around the library. But seeing herself from an outside perspective makes Twilight realize there are some parts of her personality she doesn't care for, forcing her to confront her issues.

Written in the same format as the show, save that it is longer and addresses somewhat sadder themes. No objectionable content or OC characters, focuses heavily on the mane cast.

Special thanks goes out to Pascoite and PavFeira, the two editors who somehow managed to withstand my childish scribbling long enough to make them readable. Couldn't have done it without you!

Published 2012-03-12 04:14:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-19 23:04:45 UTC

Chapter 2

“All right, let’s do this!” Twilight urged herself on, drawing a deep breath for that last surge of effort. Even with Starswirl’s genius aiding her, doubling her strength, it took all her effort to finish his enchantment. Her horn flared so bright that it was like a purple sun was shining down into her library. The flames around her reared so high that she could not see her library’s entrance. The sunburst on the ceiling vanished behind a cloud of black and purple smoke. Twilight was now surrounded by a sphere of flaming runes, hovering in the air. Where another might be shaking with fear, Twilight was quivering with excitement. She was working a spell beyond what any other unicorn could cast! Commanding the kind of magic that first inspired her to study!

A lesser wizard might have trembled with fear at the sight of the forces before Twilight. A prudent wizard would have halted her efforts, realizing the cataclysmic damage such a spell could do if cast improperly. But in Twilight’s state of mind at that particular moment, she would not have cared even if destruction were its intention. This spell was power. It was magic. It was her changing the world just through her intellect and will. It was beautiful, no matter what it was for.

And suddenly, it was over.

Twilight almost fell forward with surprise, so swift was the spell’s conclusion: no flash of light, no burst of sound, no explosion, nothing so grand as the casting. The flames around her simply went out. Twilight’s horn blinked out a few moments later, after she let out a startled squeak of shock. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the brilliant magical fire, and where once she saw blazing light of all colors, she now saw only muted flashes. Spots danced in her vision, the outline of the flames still visible to her long after they had gone out. The transition was so jarring that it left her dizzy almost to the point of losing her hoofing, and for several long seconds, all Twilight could do was hold her eyes shut.

As Twilight waited for her eyes to recover, her breath came in shallow, nervous starts. She had to force herself to slow down, to calm her racing heart. She drew a deep breath and tasted acrid smoke, but she couldn't tell if it was from her candles or the magical flames. She felt her legs shiver, but couldn't tell if it was the spell or nerves. She heard a clatter on the floor, and for a moment, she was certain that she was somehow now wearing horseshoes. It was only after a panicked pat down of her own hooves that she realized she was hearing things and started to force herself to calm down.

Slowly, Twilight raised her head and peered in the gloom. Her candles had gone out, and with the blinds drawn to stop anypony from worrying about the fire, the only light in the library was an occasional sliver of a sunbeam. The sun’s fleeting rays formed a clearly visible shaft of light in the gloom, illuminating motes of brightness through the slowly dispersing smoke. Such rays cast long, flickering shadows, illuminating and obscuring the library at once.

“No reflection...” Twilight muttered to herself, reaching up to touch the mirror with a hoof. The mirror before her showed the library, but not her. When she briefly lifted a book, it appeared to hover in midair. Twilight quickly glanced down to make sure she was casting a shadow and that she had not actually turned herself invisible, but she saw her outline on the floor clearly enough. She considered, very briefly, that it might be an illusion, but soon dismissed the thought—a foal could cast that sort of spell. The epic magic she just worked... had she just destroyed her own reflection? Was that even possible?

In the back of her mind, something else struck her as odd, a sense from a few seconds past finally working its way into her awareness.

“Wait, is something wrong with my voice?” she asked the empty air, louder this time, ears twitching faintly as she strained to hear. Her voice clearly echoed around the empty room, reverberating in a way not justified by the room’s narrow size. The echo was so quick that it was like two ponies speaking at once, producing a strange harmonious hum when she spoke.

“Is the mirror making this sound?” she tried again, holding an alert ear up to the mirror and listening closely as she pronounced her words loudly and clearly. The mirror was vibrating with the resonant sound, and she could feel the little movements through her hooves when she touched the glass. But it didn’t feel like the source of the sound.

After a moment, Twilight slowly raised her head. Hesitantly, cautiously, she looked around the mirror’s side.

And her reflection looked back at her.

Each twitched an ear, in perfect symmetry, Twilight’s her right, the reflection’s her left. Each looked at the other with eyes wide, still confused, still disoriented by the heat and light and sudden end of the magic. Slowly, each raised a hoof, moving it forward in the empty air—until in the center, they met with a faint clop.

“Aaah!” both of them shouted in surprise, leaping away from each other at once. Hooves scrabbled on the wood as they backed away, wide eyes locked on each other. Each backed away so fast that they ended up on their flanks, pushing away with forehooves kicking.

“Who are you!?” each demanded of the other in a perfect chorus. “I’m Twilight! No, you can’t be Twilight, I’m Twilight!” they continued, no less balanced.

The situation was strange to say the least, but Twilight was at heart an academic, and strangeness did not bother her. She froze, unsure of what to do, but her calm gradually returned as she saw her counterpart do the same. With recognition came understanding. And with understanding, her fear of this strangle doppelganger seeped away. Her forehooves slowly lowered, and her flank rose, as she stood up to face herself calmly.

“So you’re my... reflection?” both spoke at once, and this time the reverberation throughout the room sent a little shiver of glee up Twilight’s spine. “And the reason the spell was easier was because you were helping me?” Twilight's fear was washed away the instant she saw her reflection nod with her, her curiosity reasserting itself. “Oh my gosh, this is amazing!” each said, with an almost gleeful squeak. “I had no idea this was even possible! You aren't scientifically possible!” each asserted, pointing a hoof at the other, their voices in danger of breaking out into giggles.

“Mmmm,” each murmured, after a moment. “This duality is getting kind of annoying though… I know! Are you right- or left-hoofed? Right-hoofed!” the two Twilights raised a hoof to each other, and as one, glanced at the other’s extended leg, each on the same side. “No, that’s your left. No, it’s my right! No, not your—uuugh!” they grumbled.

Pausing, they each flicked an ear, looking at each other oddly. After a moment, they both added “Ugggh!” again, this time with a pointed, curious expression.

“Wow, does my voice really sound like that?”

It was only after an uncomfortable pause that each raised a reassuring and dismissive hoof, “Oh, no no. Um. No. You sound… fine.” The ethical and practical implications of lying to your exact duplicate left each at a loss for a moment, a pair of awkward smiles passing between them.

“Well… I did have another idea,” they volunteered. “Since you seem to be left/right flipped, but all the books here are the right way around, some of the characters should look backwards to you. So all we have to do is each read a book…” Each looked to their hooves, and the books scattered all over the floor, an embarrassed blush rising to their faces at how unkempt the library was. Somehow, it seemed like the other pony would understand, but that didn’t make disrespecting a book any better.

Each picked up a book, their horns coming alight as they peered down into the pages, but while one smiled, the other frowned. Twilight glanced at her book—a copy of Predictions and Prophesies. It was newer than the one that had warned her of Nightmare Moon’s return, barely read more than once. She didn’t have to read from it, though, to see that her counterpart was no longer mirroring her, the other Twilight squinting at the book in confusion.

“Why is the writing all backwar—aaah!” She lept back from the book as if stung, dropping it to the floor as she scrambled away. The reflection’s eyes went wide, darting around to the library shelves and floor around her, looking uncomprehendingly to the titles. Her breath came faster with each passing moment, the mirrored Twilight on the verge of hyperventilating.

“This is amazing. I have so many questions!” Twilight pressed, enthusiasm shooting through her words, “What’s being a reflection like? Is it fun? Is there really a—” Her words were just getting up to speed when her reflection burst out laughing

“Ha ha! Very clever! You totally got me.” The out-of-place Twilight grinned, pointing a hoof at her counterpart. “Nicely done too. I had no idea there was actually a universe behind the mirror! It looks just like my library!” She glanced curiously around the library main space, peering at the mirror, waving a hoof to observe her lack of reflection.

“Uh…” the native Twilight answered her reflection, giving her a slow, confused look. “There’s not a world behind the mirror. That spell had strong elements of fabrication and a classical come-to-life enchantment. It’s much more likely it created a body out of—“

“Don’t be silly!” the mirrored Twilight cut off her counterpart, turning back to face her. “Obviously there’s a world on the other side of mirror. Where else would we be? Everything has to be somewhere, that’s just basic logic. Now—we’ll need to find a way to send a message to my Spike so he knows not to worry about me. Maybe a sign?”

“Uh… I don’t think you’re getting this,” Twilight insisted to her mirror image, after a moment, a pause hanging in the air. “There is no ‘your Spike.’ There’s no library on the other side of the mirror at all, for that matter. You’re my reflection. The spell just created a body for you with some kind of very advanced come-to-life spell.”

“No, no,” Twilight’s mirror assured her, with a self-confident smile and a raised hoof, patting her counterpart on the head. “I understand this can all be very confusing! You do seem to have all my memories, after all! But I’m Twilight. Wielder of the Element of Magic. Faithful student of Princess Celestia. I fought Discord, Nightmare Moon. It seems a little unlikely I’m your copy, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Twilight agreed with a grumble, reaching up to rub at her mane where her copy’s hoof had mussed it. “Well! That all sounds very important. So why don’t we just go on and send you home so you can get back to all that. I’m sure you have that big paper on Starswirl’s spell to write and all.” Twilight wondered to herself if she ever sounded that condescending, but dealing with a runaway come-to-life spell just didn’t fit into her itinerary today. The unicorn’s horn started to glow as she prepared to dispel the simulacrum before her, her copy nodding enthusiastically.

“I do! And I have to say this journey will make quite the interesting hoofnote!” The mirrored Twilight nodded, nearly stepping in front of the building cloud of magic, the original Twilight’s horn beginning to hum with the rising power. “I’ll certainly never look at a mirror the same way again. Well then, au rev—”

The mirrored Twilight shrieked in surprise and fear as the dispel hit her, the spell’s impact hurling her across the room and sending her crashing to the floor at the base of the stairs. Her counterpart’s reaction was no less shocked—she’d been expecting the mirror-copy to disappear, to go away in a poof of magic and light. Not this.

At the base of the steps, the mirror Twilight shrieked in fear, legs trembling below her. Her eyes went wide as she saw the tips of her hooves start to fade away. The end of her tail and her mane were not far behind, gradually turning translucent and then vanishing entirely. She did not fade all at once, but by inches, the effect working its way in, from her extremities towards her body.

Twilight had heard ponies shout with fright before, but this was different. This was stark terror, persistent and all-consuming. Oblivion was coming for this pony, inching up her legs while she was forced to watch. And that pony was she. Twilight could do nothing but slink away, eyes wide with horror, a mute witness to what was happening before her.

“This isn’t happening! This can’t be happening!” the mirror Twilight cried out. Everything below her knees was gone. Nothing was left of her tail but a scrubby brush. Her voice shuddered with fear, tears in her eyes. Her life passed before her in a moment: her time with Princess Celestia, her friends in Ponyville, saving the world, twice. She had things to live for, and with that realization, her fear transmuted to anger, like fuel hit with a spark.

“This isn’t how it ends!” she snarled, her horn coming alight, flaring so brilliantly, her counterpart had to avert her eyes. “I won’t let it!” Below her, oblivion’s climb along her legs began to slow, and then halted. The whine from the mirror-Twilight’s horn grew with its glow, until with a purple flash, she vanished from where she lay. Across the room, she reappeared on all fours, whole again.

“Oh, thank Celestia!” Twilight breathed, stepping forward, only for her voice to cut out with a gasp as a telekinetic vice settled around her throat. Her mirror image whirled to face her, expression contorted into a snarl.

“You tried to kill me!”

Twilight’s legs kicked uselessly below her, her mirror image more than able to lift her off the ground. The mirror Twilight’s gaze was locked on the original. Her horn was ablaze, its purple light making the tears on her face shine. For a moment, the pony’s eyes were all rage, fueled by her fear, holding the mare before her helpless. She was able to stop the pony in her grasp from teleporting, able to stop her from fleeing, able to return what was done to her and then some.

“Please,” Twilight croaked, desperately trying to draw breath. “You’re hurting me.”

A moment later, she hit the ground flank first, her stiff tail crumpling under her on the floor. Twilight’s mirror image stumbled away, her face as horrified as Twilight’s was a moment ago: eyes wide, jaw agape, streaks from tears still down her face. “I… I…” she stammered, her gaze traveling to the bruises on Twilight’s neck with shock. “Oh Celestia, what have I done?”

Twilight tried to call for her to stop, as she turned, fleeing up the library stairs, but only a rough croak emerged from Twilight’s throat. She wheezed as she shakily rose to her hooves, trying to find her breath and her balance.

When Twilight did finally make her way to the top of the stairs, she found the door to her bedroom ajar, a quiet sobbing audible within. Nosing it open, she first saw her desk, the pictures there disturbed. A moment later she saw her counterpart, curled up into a ball on the bed, tail tucked up against her. She was stroking the stiff hairs of her tail with one hoof, holding it with the other, expression shocked and distant. When she saw Twilight, she whimpered in fear, curling into a tighter ball.

With a flash, Twilight was by her side.

But still with no idea what to say.

“You were right.” Her mirror-image spoke first, looking out the window and then down at her tail, instead of up towards her visitor. Her voice was weak, almost a murmur, as she continued, “I’m not Twilight.” Her voice cracked as last, and she all but sobbed, “Twilight wouldn’t hurt a pony.”

“It’s...” Twilight started to excuse her copy, a surge of pity rushing through her for the creature sobbing against her bed. “It’s not so bad. I—”

“Not so bad!?” her mirror image blurted out, rising to her hooves, eyes still bloodshot from crying. Twilight stumbled back with surprise, caught off-guard at her copy’s sudden motion. “Don’t you get it? We look just the same! I have all your memories, but I’m not you. I never learned about the magic of friendship! I’m a bad pony! We’re even stylishly left/right flipped! I’m your evil clone!”

“Whoa really now, ‘evil clone?’ I think that seems a little—”

“Think about it! Why do you think Starswirl never published this spell? Why do you think he tried to blot out the greatest discovery since movable type? Because it makes bad ponies,” Twilight’s mirror shouted, pushing forward. “You’ve gotta reverse the spell!”

“I don’t know how! And I am not just dispelling it again!” Twilight shuddered at the very thought.

“Then we’ll have to develop a counterspell!” Twilight’s mirror insisted, with a stomp of her hoof. “Pony lives could depend on it!”

Twilight hesitated, not sure what to do, taking a step back as her mirror-image’s expression turned imploring. “Please,” she begged. “I can’t face Spike and the others. Just… just help me put this back right and forget this spell ever existed.”

“Fine,” Twlight agreed, with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll help.”

“Horsefeathers!” Applejack shouted, slamming a hoof on the floor, as Twilight—the original—continued her story of how the extra figure at the table came to be. It had taken a while to rouse Fluttershy as well as for Spike to go and fetch Pinkie Pie. Rarity had used that time to clean up the library a bit, and the Twilights had used it to go clean away Rarity’s makeup. Now, they stood together in the library’s common space, Twilight’s hoof over her copy’s shoulder, as she explained. Applejack’s interruption brought that explanation to an end. She was as angry as Twilight had ever seen her, and all seven figures around her jumped faintly at the outburst.

“Applejack!” Twilight exclaimed, her mirror slumping further as though trying to hide behind her progenitor, “I’m trying to tell you—”

“Ah know what you’re tryin’ to tell me, Twilight!” Applejack sighed, all eyes on her as she trotted through the middle of the group, towards the lavender pair. “You ‘n’ her have been switchin’ places on us all day. That’s why y’all were so skittish and afraid of mirrors. We get the gist. But good gravy, girl, what’s with all this evil clone nonsense? I was waiting for the point in the story where y’all realized that was bunk. This is how you’re dealin’ with your problems? Hidin’ her away like she was somethin’ to be ashamed of?”

“But it’s true!” Twilight’s mirror image pleaded, desperation in her tone, clinging close to the original’s side. “I hurt Twilight! I lashed out in anger! I think I might look good in leather! I am a bad pony!”

“What y’all did ain’t nothin’ to be proud of. But it wasn’t anger you were actin’ in, way I heard the story. It was fear. You very nearly died, Twi… er.” Applejack pointed at the Twilight she meant. “You. That’ll drive anypony to things they wouldn’t do normally.”

“We’ve all done things we regret,” Rarity agreed, Fluttershy giving her own quiet nod of approval. “Particularly under stress. What matters is that when the time came, you knew right from wrong. This evening’s whole debacle put Twilight’s life in danger—and it all could have been avoided if I’d just shown a little more respect for my friend’s privacy. A mistake, certainly,” Rarity admitted, with some embarrassment, reaching a hoof up to fix her mane, “but it doesn’t make me a bad pony.”

“But don't you see?” Twilight's mirror asked, raising her head to meet Applejack’s oncoming gaze, as she pushed out from behind Twilight. “I am her copy! I’m not Twilight! I’m not even your friend!”

A silence hung in the room. Pinkie Pie started to interject, drawing a breath for some upbeat reassurance. But then she, like the others in the room, noticed Applejack’s eyes slowly narrowing, and swallowed the words without a sound, taking a quiet step back.

“Is that what you two think of me?” Applejack demanded, without missing a beat, eyes going from one Twilight to the other. “That I’m the kind of lowlife who’d think less of a pony in need just because of some weird magic she didn’t have no part in? Or are y’all sayin’ that I can’t choose who my friends are?”

Silence answered Applejack, from all quarters: Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and even Pinkie Pie looking to her for direction. Twilight lowered her head, unable to meet Applejack’s gaze. Her mirror just looked on, trying to speak and failing to find the words, gaze sinking the floor in turn.

“That’s what Ah thought,” Applejack finished, with a definitive snort.

“Applejack is quite right!” Rarity agreed and she stepped forward, the Twilights looking between her and Applejack, each as confused as the other. “I understand that this is a... stressful situation—” she accentuated her words by reaching up to brush her mane with a hoof. “—but that’s no excuse for thinking your friends are the sort of ruffians who would abandon an innocent pony out of petty fear! You should have come to us for help. And we are your friends, Twilight.” Fluttershy quickly took the hint.

“Of course we are,” the yellow pegasus assured the twins, stepping up to the Twilights in her turn. “If it weren't for the makeup, I couldn't even tell you apart! You have as much right to call me your friend as she does.”

“I still say this isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve done, Twilight,” Spike grumbled. “But you know I’m behind you all the way. Both of you!” It was only after an embarrassed pause that he added, “Um... excluding that bit earlier where I tried to help Applejack and Rainbow Dash kill you.”

“Duh!” Pinkie Pie agreed, bouncing up to the pair. “Why wouldn't I want to be your friend? Oh oh, I know! Because if we weren't friends, then I could throw a Welcome-to-Ponyville Party for you and we could become friends all over again! It’ll be great!”

Each of the Twilights cracked a weak smile at Pinkie Pie’s antics, a timid sort of warmth passing between them. Applejack’s gaze turned to the last member of the group not to speak: Rainbow Dash, hovering just over the ponies below her. “Ugh, this is too weird, two Twilights?” Her legs folded in front of her, as she stared down at the pair.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity snapped up at her, the pegasus spreading her hooves wide in response.

“What?” she demanded. “Of course I’m her friend! Element of Loyalty remember? I can still think its weird! We were barely able to contain the damage one of them did! With two, she’ll probably turn all of Equestria into talking potatoes or something!”

For a moment, silence answered her. A pause that could have been broken by Applejack snapping, or Rarity calling her tactless, or Fluttershy making assurances.

It was broken by Twilight’s giggling.

Six pairs of eyes turned to see Twilight’s copy starting to chuckle, trying to contain it and failing. The laugh soon spreading to her progenitor, both of them giggling at some joke only they got. “Actually, our being linked like this does seem to let us combine our powers.” The mirror compy glanced up at Twilight, and the two exchanged a nod.

“So—” For a moment, they caught each others eyes and grinned, looking up to Rainbow Dash with an, “Are you volunteering to go first?” A faint glint on each of their horns sent Rainbow Dash scrambling back and elicited laughter from each of them. It was a nervous, strained sort of laughter, but in the wake of the day’s events, welcome. It didn’t take long for that laughter to spread, smiles breaking out across the room.

“Wonderful, darlings!” Rarity’s tone was upbeat, an encouraging smile on her face. “See how much easier this all is when you stop being so silly about it? Now! We shall need something to call you. I shan't go around rudely pointing and shouting ‘No, the Twilight over there.’”

“Oh oh! I know!” Pinkie offered, with an enthusiastically raised hoof. “Midnight Glow! No, wait, Dawn Glimmer! No no no, Sunset Flash, Sunset Flash!”

“Oh, how about Dusk Shine?” Fluttershy suggested, with a trace of enthusiasm, despite the circumstances. “Although, I guess that is kind of a colt’s name.”

“Actually...” the mirror Twilight muttered, hesitantly looking back at her counterpart for a moment before pressing on. “Those are all good ideas, Pinkie, but I’d like to keep being called Twilight. It is my name.”

“Alrighty then.” Applejack agreed, pointing to the mirror-copy. “Then you’re Twilight.” Her hoof shifted to point out the original, “An’ you’re Sparkle.”

“Huh?” Sparkle started, surprised. She was about to ask why she had to take the second name when she caught Rarity giving her a very pointed stare out of her mirror’s sight and so instead, she just nodded. “Sparkle. I like it.”

“It makes you sound old,” Rainbow Dash asserted, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Sparkle, the Librarian.”

“It sounds absolutely dashing! Now, Twilight,” she addressed the newly renamed pony. “Come with me! This library is in absolutely ghastly condition and it doesn't have a proper guest room in any case! I insist you be my guest at the boutique until we get this all sorted out.”

Twilight started to object, but got no further than “I—” before Rarity cut her off with a simple, “I insist. Courtesy demands nothing less!”

Twilight looked around at the others, then back at Sparkle, finally returning her gaze to Rarity with a nod. “Well... okay. If you think that’s best.”

“Wonderful! Come with me then, dear. It’s frightfully late. We’ll get you situated and deal with this mess properly come morning!” Rarity opened the door to the library with a magical nudge from her horn, Twilight hesitantly looking back to the group again.

“Good night then, girls,” she muttered, Fluttershy smiling and waving her goodbye, until the door shut behind her and Rarity.

It was only once they were well gone that anypony spoke, Rainbow Dash looking down at Sparkle with her hooves crossed. “You really blew it this time, Twi. Sparkle. Whatever.”

Sparkle’s head sunk, her ears folding back. “I know,” she murmured in response.

“You really should have come to us. But, um…” Fluttershy stepped up to Sparkle and nuzzled against the unicorn’s side, comforting Sparkle with her presence. “I understand how rough this must be on you. You want some company tonight?” she offered. Sparkle shook her head.

“No, Spike’s here, I… thanks, everypony. For everything. At this point, I just want to clean up the library and get some rest.” Her voice came out in a tired murmur, Spike walking up to her and patting her side in turn.

“Yeah, show’s over.” Applejack agreed, turning to leave with the other ponies, save Pinkie, who merrily bounced to the exit, already planning just the thing to cheer the pair up.

“Don’t worry!” she called back. “It’ll aaaall work out! How often do you get to make a friend?”

It was only a few moments after they had gone, Spike and Sparkle alone, that she looked up with a: “Wait, did Pinkie just—“

“Yeah.” Spike grumbled. “She said that.”

The trot back to the boutique was a quiet one. The retelling of events had lasted well into the evening, and so by the time Rarity and Twilight emerged, Ponyville was asleep. Princess Luna had raised a full moon today, so bright, silver light illuminated the ponies’ path, as they made their way through Ponyville’s silent streets. Under other circumstances, Rarity and Twilight would fill such a gap with conversation, but at that moment, all that passed between them was an awkward smile, Twilight glancing down at the ground.

It was Rarity who finally broke the silence with a polite clearing of her throat. “I presume then that it was you I spent this afternoon with at the spa?”

“Yeah.” Twilight nodded, not raising her gaze to the white unicorn alongside her. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Well then! I insist we repeat the experience tomorrow!” Rarity asserted with a faint upturn of her head, horn held high. “Only without all of that skulking about. No small wonder you were so nervous, I suppose. But the point of the spa is to soothe, and you’re wound too tightly as it is, Twilight.”

“That’s… a pretty transparent attempt to be nice to me, Rarity,” Twilight answered. Her smile was still weak, but no longer awkward, her gaze hesitantly turning up to the unicorn next to her. “But I don’t have a reflection, and the spa is full of mirrors. I think—”

“Twilight, dear, there are some facts you’re simply going to have to come to terms with,” Rarity interjected, with a firm “hmph!” for emphasis. “You could walk into the spa with two heads and pegasus wings, and nopony would be that surprised.”

“Uh, I think you’re exaggerating a bit, Rarity.” Twilight replied, only for Rarity to smirk.

“Oh really? Do you remember a few weeks ago, when you locked yourself up in that library to finish your new gem-sorting enchantment?” Rarity started, pressing on before Twilight could do more than start to nod. “I had no less than three ponies assure me that you were hiding and needed all the gems because you’d turned yourself into a dragon.”

“Into a dragon? Really? That’s not even—” Twilight started, but she was silenced by a tap of Rarity’s hoof.

“Or the time that pegasus with the lavender coat moved in and everyone started noticing that you and he were never in the same room at the same time.”

“He lived in Cloudsdale! How was I supposed to—” Twilight tried to protest.

“Or the time you got a message from your future self?” Rarity pressed, leaning towards Twilight. But Twilight found her second wind, and returned the gesture.

“Well,” she replied, “I seem to recall hearing about a recent incident where a certain white unicorn thought I was a vampony.”

“Uh!” Rarity exclaimed, voice full of offense at such a grievous implication. “I never thought you were a vampony! That nonsense was all Rainbow Dash’s idea.”

“Oh really? Then just why were you poking around the library?” Twilight asked with a questioning stare. Rarity’s mind flashed back to the collection of romance novels and… publications, she would have to hide if Twilight were staying with her.

“Well, um, you see, the reasons for that were—oh look! We’re here.” Rarity quickly trotted forward to the boutique’s door, her horn coming alight as she pulled it open. “Come inside, Twilight. I’ve got just the thing to take your mind off of all this magical nonsense! A darling new outfit I’ve been meaning to find just the right pony for!”

Rarity turned, following Twilight with her eyes, letting the other unicorn trot in first. She felt a little bad about using the same lie twice in one day—but, well, this time it was for a good cause. Plus, now she knew that black was definitely not Twilight’s color.

“Hey, Twili—er… Sparkle,” Spike greeted, awkwardly rubbing his claw behind his head at the correction. Sparkle had returned to her bedroom in the wake of the others’ departure, walking to the side of her bed. She had not lain in it though, and instead, rested on her haunches beside it. She sat there, watching the impression left by her counterpart, the circular imprint in the blanket and the sheets. Her gaze was distant and thoughtful, the pony quiet. Despite the tense silence, Spike pressed on. “Man, those names are going to get a little confusing. Twilight. Sparkle. I mean, if this were a story, you know those two characters would get mixed up all the time.”

“We’ll get name tags or something.” Sparkle let out a sigh. Her heart was not in the conversation, the reaction little more than a rote reply. “Was there something else, Spike?”

“Just that I finished cleaning up downstairs. We could reopen the library tomorrow, if you wanted.” Spike watched for Sparkle’s answer, but she only nodded faintly. After a moment, she gradually became aware of something in the corner of her vision and looked up to see Spike sitting on the edge of her bed. He was offering her his best attempt at a smile, his tail crooked behind him.

“Oh Spike,” Sparkle sighed, leaning her head forward to rest against him. “This is all too much.”

“Yeah, I know, two Twilights. Who’s going to write the letters to Celestia?” he asked, reaching his claws out to hug the pony in front of him. She buried her head against his scales, her voice starting to crack as she spoke.

“She’s me! But… I’m me. I’m the one who struck first, Spike! I thought I was just dispelling an enchantment but… oh, Spike. I almost killed a pony! I really am her mirror image.” Sparkle sniffled, her voice finally breaking as teardrops came to her eyes. Spike held her close to comfort her, but shook his head.

“Only because you’re both being guilty over nothing! Sparkle, you thought that you were just sending her back to being your reflection! She was afraid and thought she was defending herself! You’re not a bad pony! Neither of you!” he insisted, lifting her head up to look her in the eye.

“But Spike…” Sparkle pleaded. “We’ve been at it all day. There’s nothing in Starswirl’s notes about a counterspell, and I don’t understand even how the basic parts of this spell fit together! It could take weeks! Months!”

“So?” Spike asked. “Tw—Sparkle, I’m not really keen of having two of you around. One of you keeps me busy enough. But other than my having to write twice as many checklists, would it really be so bad to have to put up with another you for a little while? This may shock you, but we actually kind of like having you around.”

“Well…” Sparkle hesitated, “I mean. I guess we could get twice as much studying done. And it is kind of nice to be able to combine our powers like that. But what about Princess Celestia? What about mom and dad?”

“Sparkle, they know you. They’ll understand.” Spike patted her muzzle, gently. “You need to learn to trust your friends more.”

“Yeah…” Sparkle hesitated, and then nodded more firmly. “Yeah, you know what Spike? You’re right! I can rely on my friends to get me through this!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Spike encouraged her, Sparkle pressing on in steadily bolder tones.

“And you know what else? I cast Starswirl’s last spell! And if something unexpected happened, so what? That something was an awesome pony! All the wizards of Canterlot will just have to laud me twice. And then, at the next Grand Galloping Gala, one of us can run interference so the other can talk to Princess Celestia and we’ll have twice as many hooves to deal with guests!” she asserted with a proud hoof raised to her torso, head held high.

“Wait, what?” Spike groaned, “Twil—Sparkle, I think you’re getting a bit off topic—”

“The only problem is that she doesn’t feel like she’s me,” Sparkle rose to her hooves, starting to pace back and forth in thought. “I need a way to let her know that she’s still part of the group. To make her feel like my accomplishments are her accomplishments! I need—” she stood tall, light flaring from her horn as she proclaimed with excitement, “—I need to release a world-threatening monster so she can banish it with the Elements of Harmony!”

“Or you could help Pinkie Pie throw a party,” Spike added.

“I need to help Pinkie Pie throw a party!” Sparkle corrected herself, adding, “But get my guide to the Tartarian Gates anyway. Just in case.”

When Twilight was stressed, she could not sleep, and when she could not sleep, she read. She couldn’t find any books at first. Rarity had already fallen asleep, forcing Twilight search the boutique. But after a bit of work she found some—a little stack of paperbacks that Rarity had left under some cloth—and settled down for the night.

The books were informative. But not conductive to rest.

“Spell… turns back with water… doesn’t recognize as a colt… couldn’t… fit that…” she mumbled, curled up in bed with books strewn all about her, before finally sitting up with a shout. “Magic does not work that way!” The hoof mirror she was using to read tumbled to the floor, landing atop the fallen book and narrowly avoiding being shattered. In Twilight’s sleeply haze, she didn’t even notice, putting her hoof past them as she swung out of bed.

Gradually, as the nightmares of things that Twilight was happier not knowing faded, she began to realize that it was morning. The sunlight was streaming in the window, down to her bed, and outside, Ponyville was waking. It occurred to her that Rarity must have let her sleep in, probably for the best, given how late they’d been up and how little she’d been able to sleep. She stepped out of bed slowly, tip-hoofing towards the bathroom. It took several long seconds of her staring at the empty mirror glass before she remembered what was wrong, and sighed. Slowly, she moved a hoof along her face, trying to feel how she looked this morning.

Her mane was frazzled and wild, a bad case of bedmane ruining her usual razor-flat cut. She considered trying to fix it but… no, no reflection. She would have to ask Rarity to do it before they left. Twilight assumed they would be headed there first, to sort out where she’d be staying until they could finish the counterspell.

She stretched, one joint at a time, thinking that Pinkie Pie would probably try to throw a party to make her feel better. Her friends were so kind, but at that moment, Twilight just felt more tired than anything. The reasons for her mood had very little to do with her lack of sleep, Twilight’s step listless as she started down the stairs to the main floor of the Boutique. The sooner they could come up with a counterspell, the better.

“Rarity!” She called, “Are you going to open the boutique toda—” At the base of the stairs, Twilight froze, falling silent at the unexpected sight before her.

The boutique was full of books: stacked on tables, on shelves, on display stands and at the base of the stairs, paperbacks and textbooks of all covers and titles. Around the base of the stairs, behind the tables, and in front of the boutique’s shelves stood her friends, and her counterpart. Everypony there was smiling, looking to her as she arrived.

“What in Equestria—” she started, surprised, Sparkle darting forward.

“Do you like it? It’s every book in the library on identity. Everything from philosophy to self-help! Spike and I spent all morning moving them, and they all say that you and I are the same pony in every way that matters! Or at least we were yesterday. We might have diverged since then. Oh, and I brought some of the large-print books, and a mirror! Because you’ll need to get used to reading the backwards letters! That way, it’s not just me telling you. You have proof from the best pony minds!”

“Uh—” Twilight blinked, Sparkle pressing on.

“And! We all got you something! Fluttershy, you go first!”

“It’s, um… a sweater.” Fluttershy reached out with a wing to pick up the folded garment resting atop the table near her, lifting it to her hooves. The sweater was a collection of purple and violet threads, Twilight’s cutie mark sewn into it as a bright star on the side. “It’s a little tight, but that’s on purpose. I really like sweaters that way. It makes it feel like it’s giving you a hug,” Fluttershy observed as Rainbow Dash made a gagging gesture behind her.

“Rarity and I went halfsies on this one, Twi,” Applejack answered as Rarity levitated a long, narrow box out from behind a pile of cloth.

“Applejack had the idea of getting you a pen since Spike can’t be expected to take twice as many notes, the poor dear. And seeing as how there was hardly any time this morning for me to put together something of my own, I thought I’d turn something practical—” the box opened, revealing a slender, hardwood brush-pen, braced with silver, its bristles neatly trimmed and sharp-edged as Twilights tail “—into something fabulous.” The faint glow of Rarity’s horn lifted the pen, tucking it in just behind Twilight’s ear.

“Oh, yeah, and I got you this.” Rainbow Dash shoved a box across the room, letting it slide between Sparkle’s hooves until it came to a rest in front of Twilight. Twilight looked down at it curiously, blinking.

“You got me… a reading light? Wait, isn’t this the same reading light you got me for my birthday this year?” she asked, looking back up at Rainbow Dash.

“Uh—yeah. You don’t get two gifts just because you have freaky unicorn magic,” she asserted, pausing at the room full of glares directed her way. It was only after an increasingly awkward moment that Rainbow Dash answering those glares with a confused, “What? That’s totally fair!”

“But… why?” Twilight asked in confusion, casting her gaze around the room. “Why all of this? We’re just going to—I mean. I’m just going to...”

“Go away?” Sparkle finished the sentence for her, stepping up to her counterpart. “We’re not just waiting for you to leave, Twilight. We’re your friends.” She paused, glancing down at her hooves for a moment, adding, “All of us.”

Twilight was left at a loss for words, her gaze confused, eyes threatening to fill with tears.

And then Pinkie Pie rolled out her present. And lit the fuse.

“Not on the dresses!” Rarity shrieked.

But despite Rarity’s best efforts, the first scale test of the Party Bomb was an outrageous success.

Chapter 3

“Dear Princess Celestia,” Twilight began, pausing for a moment to glance at Sparkle. The library’s uppermost floor was, for once, sparklingly clean: the floor free of paper, the charts fresh, the equipment put away in neat piles. Even the nine-and-one-quarter inch katadioptric telescopes were finally properly calibrated. Sparkle had much the same idea at that moment, pausing in her contemplation of one of the telescope’s optics to meet Twilight’s gaze. The two held that look for a moment, before their expressions went to the floor.

It was only Spike’s impatient “Ahem?” and a tap of the quill that brought the two of them back to the matter at hoof. Sparkle hurriedly busied herself making superficial adjustments to the already-calibrated instrument; Twilight drew a breath to press on.
“We would like to thank you again for the help you’ve offered us—” Twilight paused faintly, at the use of the plural, glancing at her counterpart again before hurriedly continuing “—over the past several weeks. I don’t know how we would have been able to explain things to our parents and Shining Armor without your assistance.”

Sparkle raised her head as Twilight finished, nodding faintly and continuing where her counterpart left off. “Settling in together has occupied most of our time since you left. There’s a lot of work to go through, getting ready for Twilight settling in. Even simple tasks like getting two of everything have proven more difficult than we anticipated.”

“Oh, Twilight!” Rarity gushed the moment Twilight stepped into her store, all but leaping from where she was working to face the unicorn. Twilight jumped back in surprise, caught off-guard. “Just the mare I was looking for! I was talking your brother, and he gave me some absolutely divine ideas for your new wardrobe! I had no idea armor could be so fetching!”

“Err...” Twilight attempted to object, as Rarity led her across the boutique. One of the models there was already decorated with a surprising amount of cloth and steel.

“Of course, we’ll have to change it quite a bit to fit a mare instead of a colt. Not to mention it will need to be lighter! Much lighter. But with a little time in the gym, you could—”

“Rarity!” Twilight exclaimed, the powder-white unicorn turning to face her purple counterpart. “I’m sure it will look wonderful, but what new wardrobe?”

“Well, yours, dear, of course! I know it’s a bit experimental,” she started to insist, Twilight offering her an apologetic smile.

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful, Rarity. But I was just going to get a second copy of all the clothes I already have. They’re comfortable and I know they look good, and it’s not like anypony will really mind if the two of us wear the same thing, right?”

“Rarity?” Twilight asked, after a pause. “...Are you okay?”

“But the support of our friends and family has seen us through the worst of it,” Sparkle continued. She glanced to her counterpart, giving an encouraging smile to Twilight as she added, “When we forgot who we were, they were there for us, reminding us what qualities made us love them in the first place, and of all the wonderful lessons on friendship we’ve learned here in Ponyville.”

Sparkle’s smile brought a faint energy to Twilight’s steps, and she picked up where her creator left off, pacing about the room as she gave dictation to Spike. Her steps started hesitant, but as she spoke, they quickly gained energy.

“But it’s more than just the ponies close to us. All of the ponies in Ponyville have been so understanding, even if they do find the whole thing a little confusing at times.”

“Hi, Twilight! Looking good!” Lyra politely praised a particular purple pony in passing. The cheerful green lyrist was waiting for Bon Bon in the open cafe near Ponyville’s bazaar, a muffin on a plate in front of her. She always made it a point to be nice to Twilight, ever since the incident in Canterlot, and her tone showed the effort, ever upbeat and friendly.

“Oh, hello, Lyra! Good to see you again!” Twilight replied with a smile of her own. After a moment though, she paused, stopping and turning to face the pastel pony. “You haven't seen Shining Armor, have you? He’s visiting for awhile.”

“Oh no, Twilight, sorry.” Lyra shook her head. “I didn’t even know he was here! But I’ll tell him if he—”

From the far end of the bazaar, both of them heard a raised voice. Lyra and Twilight each turned to see Shining Armor, Twilight’s very image beside him, looking their way. The distant copy raised a hoof, indicating her counterpart with a point. “There she is!”

“Oh, nevermind!” Twilight laughed. “Looks like they found—”

“I know what you are, face-stealer!” Lyra shouted, the sharp impact of her hoof taking Twilight to the ground.

Twilight reached a hoof up to her face to poke at the horseshoe-shaped bruise surrounding her left eye. Sparkle chided her with a, “Don’t poke at it. You’re lucky she hit you with her hoof instead of her horn.”

“Don’t poke at—” Spike muttered, as he scribbled away with his quill, pausing halfway through one of the words with a grumble, scratching it out with a sharp motion of the feather. “I’ll rewrite it later.”

Twilight sighed at her counterpart and removed her hoof from her face, but Spike’s grumbling drew her gaze his way, to the table and the writing implements there. After a moment, her horn came alight, and one of those implements floated over to her—the ornate brush-pen Applejack and Rarity had given her. With the faintest touch of unicorn telekinesis, she tucked it in behind her ear, letting it find a snug fit.

“But there have been some difficulties,” she continued in the clear, crisp notes of dictation. “Twilight—” The use of her own name in the third person gave her a moment’s pause, and even if it was technically proper grammar, the urge to amend her statement to “The Great and Powerful Twilight” brought a brief, faint smile to her face.

“Twilight has started wearing some of the gifts our friends made for her in public, as a way to tell us apart, but despite our best efforts, mistakes still happen.”

“Hey, Twilight, can we use your nail gun?” Scootaloo asked, poking her head up into the library window, the other two Crusaders just behind her. “Sparkle said we could!”

“I am Sparkle,” Sparkle sighed, reshelving the books in the library and giving the three fillies a long-suffering look.

“Oh, uh, she meant... Twilight said we could, yeah!” Sweetie Belle contributed helpfully, all three of them nodding in the affirmative.

“I highly doubt that,” Sparkle countered, her tone dry as she shooed the three away with a hoof. “And no, you’ll just nail your hooves to the ground again. Go try something safe today.” She observed to her satisfaction that they actually seemed to take no for an answer this time, the three fillies trotting away.

That task done, Sparkle turned to another. Her horn started to glow as she levitated a bundle of books behind her. She turned to head out the back door of the library, towards the school, where the old volumes would soon make a wonderful addition to some young foals’ education.

“Oh hey, Twilight!” Scootaloo called, when she stepped out the back. “Can we use your nail gun? Sparkle said we—”

“Still me,girls.”

Sparkle opened her mouth for a moment as though to speak, her teeth making a faint click when she shut it again. Twilight turned, looking her way, Sparkle giving her a weak smile.

“Overall,” Twilight finished, “the worst of it seems to be behind us. All that’s left to do now is to... settle in and get used to this state of affairs.” For a moment, she trailed off, glancing up to the next level of the library, and only after it was clear that Twilight was not going to continue speaking did Sparkle press on.

“We look forward to hearing from you or Princess Luna as soon as you have some insight into the magic that caused this accident to happen.” A nod between them concluded the discussion.

“Your faithful students, Twilight and Sparkle.”

With a rush of green fire and twinkling light, the rewritten letter went on its way, a cloud of magical smoke weaving a path out the window towards distant Canterlot and Celestia therein. Twilight and Sparkle each watched it go, their gazes returning to the room once the smoke was lost to sight.

“Well!” Sparkle proclaimed, rising to her hooves. “That’s that. Thank you, Spike.”

“Sure thing, Twi—” he started to answer, catching himself only a moment later. “Er. Sparkle.” The young dragon reached up and awkwardly scratched at the back of his head. He gave Twilight a nervous glance as claw met scale, muttering a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Spike,” she reassured him, tone light, neither hurt nor offended by his error. “But could you run downstairs and find my day planner? Between mom and dad’s visit and all this craziness, we haven’t even had time to plan for this month!”

“You got it!” Spike hopped to his feet, tone diligent and pace swift. Twilight watched him dash out the door and down into the library’s main room, and it was only her counterpart’s loud “ahem” that caused her to turn. A sharp tug from Sparkle’s telekinesis pulled their day planner from its shelf, just behind Twilight, where her body had blocked it from Spike’s view.

“Heh heh… sorry,” Twilight mumbled, not sure exactly why she was apologizing, a blush rising in her cheeks even as her gaze fell to the floor. “The library’s just so clean. There wasn’t really anything for Spike to do, and you know how he gets when he thinks I—er—you—we don’t need him. I mean—” She crossed and un-crossed her hooves, as Sparkle looked on. It was only a few moments later that Sparkle sighed, trotting forward with the book floating beside her.

“You don’t need to apologize to me. He’s your assistant too. Though you may owe him something if he spends too long searching down there,” Sparkle assured her, a hoof tilting Twilight’s face back up. “Now come on. We have organizing to do! Celestia has two students now. That means she’ll expect twice as much from us!” Her assertive tone, full of energy, brought a smile to Twilight’s face, the second lavender unicorn rising to her hooves as well.

“Only twice as much? You didn’t assign us a bonus for increased efficiency? Not to mention being able to combine our magic, that’s sure to have some useful applications!” Together, the pair trotted to the desk at the far side of the room, laying the book open before them.

“Oh I did!” Sparkle replied, enthusiastic, “I just thought that we could take this as a chance to do those things we haven’t had time for! Like finishing that paper on zebra alchemy.”

“Oh, or that expedition to the castle of the royal pony sisters!” Twilight added, quickly following with another idea. “Even better, I bet with our powers combined, we could even finally get rid of that hydra in Froggy Bottom Bog! We would just need a spell to turn it into—” Twilight paused, tapping her teeth with a hoof.

It was only a moment later that two voices called out in chorus, “Spike! Can you come back up here? We need you to test something!”

“But Prince Ironhoof!” Sparkle pleaded, draping her hoof about the powerful stallion’s shoulder, her dress billowing about her in the cold night air, the scent of roses sweeping over the garden balcony. “How can you say you don’t love me? After that night in the Canterlot tower!”

“I thought you were Twilight, your mirror-twin sister! Though you are as beautiful as the sunrise itself, it is she alone I love!” The prince let out an agonized sigh, cloak billowing about him. A single powerful hoof swept Sparkle from him, casting her aside like so much detritus in the wind. The stallion’s eyes turned away from her, to the night sky as dark as his lustrous coat.

“But your Highness! I’m carrying your foa-”

“Watcha writin’ there, Rarity?” Applejack asked as she peered over Rarity’s shoulder, the unicorn letting out a shriek of surprise. Her horn flared with light as she snapped the scroll before her shut so hard that the force almost ripped the parchment, other patrons of the outdoor cafe looking her way with thinly veiled annoyance. Somewhere, a waiter began the same litany he uttered every week around this time, about how the tips are what matter.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Why? What is it you think you saw?” Rarity demanded hurriedly. She whirled in place to face the orange-coated earth pony, hurriedly pushing scroll and quill back into her saddlebags. It was only after a long pause that Applejack answered.

“Right now, I’m mostly thinkin’ that we should start havin’ these little lunch dates at Sweet Apple Acres. Have a bit less of an audience next time y’all decide to go crazy. I could make some decent food too. It’d be real nice.” Applejack trotted around to her side of the table, matching Rarity’s look of relief with her own skeptical expression.

“Oh.” Rarity sighed, leaning back with a slump of her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Applejack. You just… startled me, is all!” She quickly levitated the menu in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the growing flush in her features. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Rainbow Dash to join us. I know for a fact that she’s been so busy training for this year’s Best Young Flyer competition she’s hardly had a moment for herself. A little break will do her good.”

“Sure thing. I was wonderin’ where she’s been.” Applejack reached down to open her menu, continuing her and Rarity’s little weekly ritual. “You think she’s got a shot at the Wonderbolts this year?”

“Well it’s hard to say, really,” Rarity replied, with a faint wave of her hoof. “Last year’s um… theatrics—” she brushed the term away “—certainly got their attention, and she is in a higher age bracket now, so she’ll be taken more seriously, but there’s no formal process. The only way to join the Wonderbolts is for them to select you, and there’s so much more to that than just speed. There’s discipline, attitude—”

“Awesomeness!” A roaring voice from above finished Rarity’s sentence for her, Rainbow Dash literally diving into the scene. The pegasus descended from on high as a rainbow-hued bolt of lightning, landing on all fours in a flawless pose: hooves down, head high, and chest forward. Every table about them jumped faintly off the ground with the force of her impact, Rainbow Dash oblivious to the glares of patrons whose tea and cake now adorned their faces and coats. “You bet I’ve got a shot at the Wonderbolts this year!”

Rarity quickly cast her gaze about, dropping a bit onto the tray of a glaring waiter—and after a moment, dropping quite a few more, with an increasingly embarrassed smile. “And just how long were you lurkin’ there waitin’ for the chance to make that entrance?” Applejack asked.

Rainbow Scoffed at Applejack’s suggestions, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “I don’t know where you get these crazy ideas, Applejack!” She hesitated under the strength of Applejack’s skeptical gaze, amending her statement with an insistent if not wholly confident, “I was just flying in and happened to overhear.”

“So the trainin’s going well then,” Applejack summarized, Rainbow Dash nodding enthusiastically.

“You bet!” She flared her wings sharply out to either side, showing her flank to the table. “I’m not saying I’m looking good, but if you were a colt, that would probably have killed you.” She preened proudly as Rarity struggled not to roll her eyes. “If I flew any faster, it would actually turn back time.”

“You do know that flying around the world backwards doesn’t actually turn back time, Rainbow Dash?” Rarity asked, that faintest trace of sarcasm escaping her despite her best efforts. Rainbow Dash’s feathers puffed with annoyance, as she held her ground.

“It does so! Flying faster slows down time, because of, um… Lorentz.” She insisted, Rarity fixing her with a level gaze.

“Lorentz? Is this something else from your adventure novels?” She asked, just about starting to regret asking Rainbow Dash to join them, when Applejack cut in.

“Lorentz contractions are the way length and time are proportionally distorted as y’all approach the speed 0’ light. It’s one of them predecessors to special relativity. But they can’t actually cause time to go backwards. Just slow it down as you…” She noticed the other two staring at her with a pair of incredulous looks. “What?” she asked, puzzled. “Twilight made y’all sit through educational movie night too.”

“I take it then,” Rarity picked up after a delicate moment, Rainbow Dash folding her wings, “that you and one of the, er, twins, have been spending time together?”

“Oh yeah! Twilight, mostly,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “You know, I thought having two of them would be weird. But it’s kind of growing on me. She has more time for friends instead of being stuck in the library all day.”

“You mean they have,” Rarity sternly corrected, Rainbow Dash giving her a faintly apologetic glance.

“Hey, hey! I’m careful not to hurt their feelings! I know it’s still sensitive and stuff. I’ve been doing low-altitude drills all day so Twilight and I can talk. She’s even helped! I remembered the Running of the Leaves last year, so I went and asked her if she had any books on flying practice. It’s like having a personal trainer!”

“Aww, that sounds like it’ll be good for her,” Applejack observed. “Let her spend some time with her friends now that Shining Armor and her folks are gone. Sparkle’s been doing the same with me—spending all kinds of time out at Sweet Apple Acres while Big Mac is away. She keeps me company. Is she any good at that whole personal trainin’ business?”

“It’s Twilight and there are books written about it.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Of course she’s good at it. We’ve even been practicing together for some of the endurance exercises.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Rarity beamed. “Now, if we can just get one of them to accept a new wardrobe, all will be right with the world. I don’t suppose you could nudge her that way while you two are practicing, Rainbow Dash? Maybe start with some exercise clothes and we’ll work our way up?”

“Sure! Twilight taught me to love reading—least I can do is teach her to be an athlete,” Rainbow Dash agreed, Rarity pausing for a moment, biting her lip as her eyes went down to the table.

“Would you two give me a moment? I just um… remembered something I need to write down before I forget.” She quickly pulled the scroll from her bag, crossing something out with the quill and jotting something new down in its place.

“But your Highness!” Sparkle pleaded. “You can never be with Twilight, for she is from the mirror dimension, where I love only… Rainbow Dash!”

“Uuuuugh.” Twilight groaned in pain, silently alternating between planning to shred her books on athletic training, and wondering why anypony would spoil such a beautiful day by using it to exercise. She lay on her back in the soft grass of the hills outside Ponyville as Rainbow Dash hovered over her, the unicorn's eyes stubbornly refusing to focus on the pegasus before them.

“It’s a flying exercise. Why does it use your whole body? I don’t even have wings!” she moaned. Rainbow Dash crossed her forehooves and summoned the full reserves of her patience, a faint, annoyed sigh betraying the effort.

“It’s okay, Twilight. Take a second. Breathe and stuff,” she replied, Twilight doing her best to obey. In fact, she was doing her best not to move at all, hours of running, stretching, and lifting exercises having taken their painful yet healthy toll. “You did pretty well for your first time! You know. Up until you fainted.”

When Twilight's only response was to groan and roll over, Rainbow Dash gave the faintest roll of her eyes, circling her exercise partner and landing before her on the grass so as to stay in her field of vision.

“Why are you working so hard anyway? You’ve always been kinda… you know.” She reached out a hoof to poke Twilight's side, electing another “mmph” of pain. “Booky.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m out of shape?” Twilight demanded with a trace of irritation, Rainbow Dash grinning widely.

“I don’t know you tell me,” she replied, poking Twilight’s sore side with a hoof several times in quick succession. Twilight let out a sharp, pained sound, feebly trying to swat Rainbow Dash away.

“Okay, okay! I surrender!” she conceded, Rainbow Dash bursting out with laughter. With some effort, Twilight managed to come to sit on her belly, hooves tucked in under her. “Maybe I have been a little out of shape,” she admitted, gaze cast down. “I’m just trying to… you know,” she murmured, a pause hanging in the air before she finished, “keep my mind off things.”

Rainbow Dash gave Twilight a sympathetic glance, and though the unicorn’s dirt-focused gaze didn’t see her, she nodded her head firmly, a decision solidifying in her mind.

“I don’t know what’s got you so down,” she asserted in her best tone of upbeat confidence. “Having my own clone would be. Awe. Some. The only hard part would be deciding which one of us gets the title of fastest mare in Equestria!” She assumed a racing posture, legs tense, like she was about to leap from a starting line.

“We’d settle it the only way two ponies that awesome can—a race around the world!” She leapt forward, careful to keep in Twilight's sight. Her wings beat to carry her off the ground, bearing her through a series of tight loops and twists.

“I’m ahead, then she’s ahead, then me, then her! We’re wingtip to wingtip! To win this, I’m going to need to use my most awesome move—the sonic rainboom! But she’s got the same idea!” Rainbow Dash whirled through a series of quick, sharp turns, ending with her straightening up, hooves rushing to her face as she gasped.

“Oh no! The power of double rainbooms is destroying Equestria! My only hope of saving my friends is to defeat what I have created! But this may be my greatest opponent yet!” Rainbow Dash fell to the ground, rearing up with hooves raised, like she was ready to strike—but she was interrupted by Twilight’s giggle.

“Wouldn’t she have the same idea?” Twilight asked as she looked up to Rainbow Dash with a growing smile. The pain in her muscles did not seem so bad, the melancholy which had briefly affected her tone banished.

“Of course! That’s why it would be the ultimate pony battle!” Rainbow Dash asserted, shouting out a “Who! Ha! Waaah!” as she struck her hooves at the air.

Twilight let out a light, relieved laugh, regretting it at once with a cry of, “Ah! Stitch! Stitch!” Rainbow Dash giggled in turn as she fell forward, back onto her hooves, waiting for Twilight to recover from the pain in her sides.

“Thanks, RD.” Twilight finally spoke, when she’d recovered enough to breathe without pain. “Sorry if I’m being kind of mopey. This whole thing is just… weird. Weirder for me than it is for you, I think. You’re used to dealing with me, even if there is twice as much now. This is the first time I’ve seen myself from the outside.” She paused. “Is my flank really—”

“You’ve got a great personality,” RD assured her quickly. “Besides! You just don’t know how to hang out with her yet. I mean, you know a lot about each other, but you’re also kind of strangers. You need to find something you have in common. Like, you know,” Rainbow dash paused. “Everything.”

“Yeah…” Twilight muttered, her gaze starting to go back to her hooves, but her head had barely lowered halfway when she caught herself, looking back up sharply. “Yeah! You’re right, RD! It’s time to stop letting this bother me and go deal with it! I’m going to run down to Sweet Apple Acres and talk to Sparkle right now!” she asserted, moving to leap to her hooves.

Rainbow Dash winced in sympathy, letting out a faint hiss as she drew in a breath between her teeth, but still Twilight was undeterred.

“Limp! I will limp to Sweet Apple Acres and talk to Sparkle right now!”

After a pause, Twilight continued. “A little help, RD?”

“And the forty-fifth little piggy made his house out of rhodium, which not only kept the wolf at bay, but proved resistant against most forms of corrosion!” Sparkle read aloud, book hovering before her as she and Applejack made their way across Sweet Apple Acres, a pair of filled baskets over each of their backs. Applejack walked in front, Sparkle following her lead. “And the wolf huffed, and he puffed, but, despite platinum group elements’ typically low yield strength, he couldn’t blow the house down!” She turned the page, taking a breath.

“The forty-sixth little piggy made his house out of palladium—” she started, Applejack taking the opportunity to interrupt quickly.

“Yup. I’m getting the picture. I reckon you got a real future in writing foals’ books, Sparkle.” Applejack knew her only hope was to change the conversation before Sparkle could make it to the post-transition metals. “It’s awful nice of y’all to come out here and help out while Big Mac is away. Sure could use the company. But uh… mind if I ask a question?”

“Sure thing, Applejack!” Sparkle offered, horn alight as she put the book away, tucking it into the straps of her saddlebags.

“Well it’s just uh… y’all’ve had an awful lot of projects lately. Your um… writin’.” She continued after a moment. “Helping Cheerilee teach all them little unicorn foals magic. All those papers. Spendin’ time with me and Rarity. It’s good to see you branchin’ out! But uh…y’all ain't trying to avoid somethin’, are you?”

Applejack turned when Sparkle didn’t answer, and seeing the unicorn gazing at the ground, gave her an encouraging look. “’S just not like you to have hobbies, is all. Unless they’re studyin’-or-book-related.”

“Well… maybe a little,” she admitted. “I’m just trying to… you know,” she murmured, a pause hanging in the air before she finished. “Keep my mind off things.”

At the time, had she thought to give words to the sensation that struck her, Applejack would have described it as déjà vu. She would have been moderately proud of her appropriate use of a Fancy word, and Sparkle would have agreed that the descriptor was appropriate. However, as it happens, they would both have been wrong. In later years, a certain purple-coated unicorn would write a paper describing the phenomenon, and would give it a proper name.

Groundhog syndrome: the feeling one experiences when encountering events that, due to magical interference, have actually occurred before.

“Uh…” Applejack stammered, shaking her head as though to clear it. “Well, that’s probably for the best. A little hard work when somethin’s botherin’ you can be just the thing to clear your head.”

“Yeah…” Sparkle agreed, with a sigh. “Applejack, you think it’s okay that I’m… you know—”

“Nervous?” she asked. Sparkle nodded, deciding that the word, while not quite accurate, was close enough.

“Shucks, Sparkle, course it’s okay. Y’all been through a heck of a shock. No one expects you to be okay with all this right away!” Applejack reassured her. “Sometimes you just gotta bite down and make yourself move on. I know Twi probably makes you feel all kinds of uncomfortable, least of all ’cause I should be callin’ you that, but she’s still family and we love her all the same, right?”

“Of course!” Sparkle answered reflexively as Applejack trotted ahead. She then added a moment later, “We have so much in common and… she’s friends with all of you and… knows Shining Armor and mom and dad. She’s family.”

“Of course I love her,” Sparkle continued, as a follow-up. Just to make sure she wasn’t misunderstood.

“There, see?” Applejack nodded. “A few little awkward feelings ain’t nothin’ to worry about. She’s probably feelin’ worse then you, on account of bein’ the copy. Just tell her how much you care about her next time you see her. It’ll be fine.”

“I… guess. I mean, she’s like my sister. And I couldn’t make her feel like she wasn’t wanted. Not after…” Sparkle shivered faintly, with the recollection of her counterpart’s scream. “She deserves to exist just as much as I do! I’d be a terrible pony if I did that!”

“Don’t y’all worry none. You’re a good pony. I’m sure it’ll all go just fine,” Applejack assured her, spotting motion off in the distance—a pony that looked very much like the one beside her, save for a shiny silver writing brush distinctively tucked in behind one ear.

“Well ain’t that good timin’. Here she comes now,” Applejack observed, Twilight approaching them with a slow but steady trot, a tad stiff in the legs.

“Hey, Applejack! Hey, Sparkle!” she called out to her friend and mirror image, her tone upbeat and enthusiastic. “Rainbow Dash just gave me the best idea! So I was thinking, we could head back to the library and—”

“I’m glad you exist!” Sparkle burst out, in the middle of Twilight’s suggestion, the other mare taking a step backwards in surprise. “Like, glad that you were born. Well not born exactly. Glad that I created you? I mean, philosophically speaking, you created yourself—” she raised a hoof to gesture, stepping forward, as the pace of her speech increased “—and I’m glad you did that, but the point is, you’re like family. I mean, Shining Armor is your brother, and if he’s your brother, then I have to be your sister! And that means we have all kinds of sisterly bonding to catch up on, except we already did because we’ve kind of spent our entire lives together up to this point.” She drew a deep breath.

“The point is uh… I love you,” she finished with her best smile. Twilight took another step back, and Sparkle leaned forward in turn.

“Um,” Twilight managed, after a moment. “Good, that’s good. I uh… I love you too.”

“Great!” Sparkle agreed, with a forceful enthusiasm. “So, you wanted to head back to the library? I’d like that if you would!”

“Oh… um,” Twilight murmured. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”

Dear Princess Celestia,

This week, I learned that sometimes being a good friend means spending time with ponies just to remind them that they have ponies who care about them. To some ponies, it matters a lot what you think of them, and it can be very hurtful if they think you don’t care about them. Being a good pony means remembering the impact you have on others, even if it makes you unhappy.

Your Faithful Student,
Sparkle

Chapter 4

There were times when Spike had the occasion to invent words. Most young creatures do this at some point, particularly those who speak languages that foolishly allow “-ify” or “-ism” to be tacked onto the end of a previously innocent word. By any name, the unicorn who cared for him sternly disapproved of such actions. However, instead of punishing him, she always used such moments as an opportunity to forward Spike’s linguistic education. She would sit by his side, dictionary between them, and teach him a little more about the Equestrian tongue. These educational moments had not cured him of the urge to invent words, though they had made the words he invented more clever.

Spike’s latest creation was “queribode,” a situation wherein one simultaneously experiences overwhelming curiosity, and a strong sense of foreboding with regards to entertaining that curiosity. For instance: “Oh man, whatever Twilight’s doing upstairs is queriboding the heck out of me.”

Spike’s grammar wasn’t quite perfect yet.

Gradually, he worked up the urge to head upstairs. He crept upstairs towards the former guest room that now served as Twilight’s room, claws making the faintest of taps on the wood. Evening in the library normally consisted of quiet reading, but to Spike’s honed senses, it was clear that something far more sinister was occurring this night. A strange pounding echoed through the library—not quite steady, every beat just a little off where Spike’s ears thought it would be. With each thump, there came a sound like groaning metal, a cry like a rusty hinge. Through it all, he could hear something grunting in pain.

“Twilight?” Spike’s voice was barely a whisper, the dragon not certain he wanted whatever was in that room to hear him. “You didn’t, uh...” Spike couldn't summon the will to continue speaking, the words dying in his throat. Unnatural grunts and the hissing of breath carried through the air, along with a foul and caustic smell like that of chemical paints.

“You—” he stumbled, voice shaking. “You know what Celestia said about using that kind of magic, Twilight.” Slowly, he pulled out the book he had brought with him, opening it and holding the pages to the door. On the open face, one page showed Celestia’s sun, while the other showed a very particular rune. The book was ancient, it’s pages splattered with blood and bound by something best undescribed.

Overcoming his trepidation at the strange, unnatural noises coming from within the bedroom, he slowly pushed the door open with a claw. The sounds came more clearly through the faint crack he had opened. They were noises apart from the sounds he had grown used to during his time in the library, strange animalistic sounds. A slowly widening shaft of light cast itself over his face, until at last, the little dragon was illuminated. The brightness dazed him, but he raised the book anyway, drawing a courageous breath.

“Ia Dagon!” He burst forward into the room. “Ia Poni! Ia Y’ha-nthlei e Celestia! Back, creature! Back to the pit you-”

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice cut into his terrified dialogue. The little dragon was so shocked he fell back onto his tail, landing with a faint bounce. It was only after landing that he realized his eyes had been closed in fright. He blinked them open, and saw Twilight’s curious gaze upon him. “What are you doing?”

“Uh...” Spike managed, confused and disoriented, eyes gradually focusing on the scene before him. He quickly took in the relevant details—most notably a lack of tentacles—and eventually managed a startled, “What are you doing?”

“Multitasking!” she answered with a grunt. Twilight stood in the center of the room, a reading stand in front of her holding a copy of Theories of Pegasus Flight Mechanics, and a second stand holding a much worn copy of Ferrous Enchanting (Third Edition). Behind her a kicking bag swung by a chain, the unicorn regularly driving hoofprints into it whenever it got too close to her. Above her floated a set of horseshoes, enchanting tools, a jar of metallic paint, and her ornate brush. Stroke by stroke, the brush left sigils of magic paint on the metal, Twilight’s brow furrowed in concentration as she looked between the texts.

“Rainbow’s training is inefficient! Do you know how many exercises she uses to get every muscle group? Fifty-two.” Twilight gave the kicking bag behind her a sharp kick with a hoof, the bag flying high on its chain, only to catch another blow on its way down. A hiss of pain escaped the unicorn at the impact. Her legs were obviously unused to such strain, but she forced herself to press on with a grimace.

Spike slowly rose to his feet, putting his book away. He was glad his fears has been wrong, but still would not have described the scene as “reassuring.” Oblivious to his actions, Twilight continued her energetic, passionate explanation.

“So, I had the idea that I could help her by organizing things, but I just couldn’t squeeze enough efficiency out of her routine! But then, it hit me. It would be cheating to use magic to make her faster, but what if I could use magic to help her train?” A sharp one-two pattern of blows from Twilight’s hooves sent the practice bag on a light, gentle swing. Her head bobbed faintly with the motion, though her eyes never stopped scanning the page as she spoke. Spike’s eyes went from the floating objects, to the books, to the exercise bag, swaying with its movements as though hypnotized.

“If my estimates are correct, with four enchanted horseshoes and one brilliant personal trainer, Rainbow Dash will be able to get ten times as much exercise as she did previously!” Twilight’s hooves delivered a powerful buck to the exercise bag behind her. The cylindrical bag swung high behind her, breaking from its chain with a loud snap and falling to the floor with an equally impressive crash. Twilight turned to regard it for a moment, mildly surprised at the breakage, and then continued speaking as though nothing had occurred.

“Isn’t that great!?” she asked, turning to face Spike, her voice radiating a driven and productive energy. Along with her words came an unblinking stare and an ear-to-ear smile. Spike slowly and awkwardly smiled in return as he tried to think of what to say.

“Uh…” Spike answered, at a loss for a number of reasons. The issues in his mind ranged from questions of bags and the kicking thereof, to more serious concerns about the effect super-compressed exercise would have on an unsuspecting pegasus. “Uh, I think that might still be cheating. I mean...”

Unfortunately for him, his pause was taken as an invitation to continue. Twilight paced back and forth, as though unable to sit still, the brush and metal above her head still moving to complete her magical work.

“All the other pegasi laughed at the idea of a unicorn trainer!” she asserted with a snort, continuing despite Spike’s attempts to get a word in edgewise. “Well, technically, they said it was great that Rainbow Dash was spending time with her friends. But I know they were laughing inside!” She shook her head, her agitated pacing increasing in intensity as her hooves made a steady clip-clop against the wood.

“They don’t appreciate my contributions to this field. But that doesn’t matter! Soon, Rainbow Dash will have a definitive advantage. She’ll win the Best Young Flyers Competition, and I’ll get the Pobel Prize for athletics training!”

“The Pobel Prize for-” Spike started to ask, reaching a claw up to scratch at his head. His words were abruptly cut off by Twilight letting out a sharp declaration.

“We’ll see who's laughing then!” As the brush completed its last mark upon the metal, Twilight turned. Purple light flared forth from her horn, enveloping the horseshoes in crackling magical energy. Spike jumped back with surprise at the thunderous magical outburst, hiding in the doorway until Twilight’s magic at last subsided. The magical writing painted on the metal was left aglow in her magic’s wake, the horseshoes shining with a palpable energy.

“That’s uh… that’s great. Twilight,” Spike finally managed. “Sounds like you’re really doing RD a favor. There. Eh heh.” His hesitation went unnoticed however, as Twilight gave him a wide smile.

“Great! Now, these need some time in the lab.” She trotted past Spike, moving down the stairs and towards the basement, the horse-shoes still levitating behind her. She turned her head faintly towards him, calling out in passing. “And remember to add finding stronger chains to the to-do list!”

“Okay. Right,” Spike muttered, thought it was mostly to himself. Twilight was no sooner in the basement than Spike was scurrying across the library, to the other side of the tree and the second bedroom there. He knocked hurriedly, claws clapping against the wood.

“Sparkle? You in there?” he called out, opening the door without waiting for a response, pushing it inward as he continued. “Twilight’s acting really weird! I’m getting a little worried.” He trailed off, two sets of eyes looking back at him.

“Spike!” Sparkle greeted, gesturing to the foal beside her, a small unicorn filly with a golden mane and a light purple coat. The room was conspicuously neat, the chalkboards arranged to form a half-circle, covered in the diagrams and formulae that described unicorn magic. In the center of it all sat Sparkle and the foal, along with a number of small objects: ball bearings, books, and a cup of water.

“This is Dinky Doo.” She put a hoof around the foal’s shoulders, the little filly waving to Spike happily. Her body was light enough she swayed in counter-point to her hoof’s motions. Each sweeping gesture nearly threw the small filly off balence. “She’s been having a little trouble learning how to use her magic. Cherilee is an earth pony of course, and Dinky’s mother is a pegasus, so I offered to help teach her!” Sparkle explained, her hooves giving a merry little clap on the wood, like she couldn’t contain her excitement. “Go ahead, Dinky, show Spike what you learned today!”

The little filly shut her eyes, jaw set in tight concentration as her horn started to glow a faint, shimmering gold. The ball bearings in front of her gradually came alight in turn, starting to rattle and shake on the floor. A faint tapping carried through the air, as the metal spheres would rise a millimeter or two, only to fall back to the ground like they were little animals hopping up and down. But gradually, they lifted from the world below them, hovering up into the air to float above Dinky’s head. The little filly’s smile shone like the sun, her eyes faintly wet.

“You did it!” Sparkle encouraged, holding the foal against her, the overjoyed little filly nuzzling against Sparkle’s coat. “Isn’t it wonderful, Spike? I never realized how rewarding it was to work with foals. I think I’m going to start volunteering at the school more often! Maybe even at summer magic camp!”

“You’re… what?” Spike managed, startled. “But what about your advanced studies? What about running the library? You don’t have time for that!”

“Oh, Spike.” Sparkle smiled. “There’s more to magic than just reading! I can teach it to others! Can’t you imagine how happy all those little foals will be when they cast their first spell? Just look at her!” Sparkle gestured Dinky Doo forward. The little filly smiled wide as she stepped up to Spike, the ball-bearings still floating above her, her wide eyes full of wonder at that simple accomplishment.

Spike paused.

“Hold on just a second.”

Outside, a few ponies taking an evening stroll looked up towards the source of the distinctive sound of impact that carried across the neighborhood, the noise emerging from one of the library’s high windows. Not far behind that noise came a light-purple-coated filly, shrieking with surprise as she flew through the air. She landed with a harmless bounce upon a nearby thatch roof, rolling to a rough stop. “Now who will teach me magic?” she asked with a quiet sniffle, starting to tear up as she looked back toward the library.

“Wear a hat, say you’re an earth pony!” Spike called out to her, before slamming the window shut.

“Spike!” Sparkle snapped. The shut window keept the ponies outside from their conversation, only the start of Sparkle’s word escaping into the night air “What do you think you’re—”

“I’m worried about you Tw-” Spike caught himself. “-Sparkle! I’m worried about both of you! You haven’t done anything to maintain the library in days, you’re both completely shut-in in your rooms, and it’s like you don’t even notice! And now you’re thinking of quitting your advanced studies? What about Princess Celestia?” Spike’s voice had risen to an insistent shout.

Sparkle was caught off-guard by her number one assistant’s uncharacteristic attitude, stammering through her reply. “Spike, I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about quitting them-“ she assured, taken aback, her defense emerging less confident than she might have hoped. “I just found something that I really like and-”

“You like studying!” Spike exclaimed in frustration, claws out to either side, as though in a hopeless shrug. “If Princess Celestia hadn’t checked, I’d think that spell fried your brain or something!” As the dragon’s frustrated outburst drew to a close, Sparkle’s gaze started to waver. Soon, it sunk to somewhere around Spike’s feet, her ears drooping with it.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” she murmured, stepping up to put a hoof on his shoulder. “Why don’t we go downstairs? I’ll get one of those gems we’ve been saving, and we can each get a book. It’ll be fun.” She smiled down at him as she spoke, features soft and understanding. Spike sighed and pulled forward into a hug, Sparkle leaning down to nuzzle against him.

“I’d like that,” Spike murmured in turn, the two slowly pulling away, bathed in the warm glow of mutual affection. The dragon held that pose for several long seconds.

“I’ll fetch Twilight from downstairs,” he muttered, as an afterthought.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clock in the library’s main room let out a steady mechanical beat. Every swing of its pendulum marked away the seconds, late into the evening. In the center of the room sat Spike, a copy of Daring Do and the Emerald Dragon before him. It was a book that Spike had fallen in love with despite its irritating tendency to portray the suave, clever, and clearly much cooler dragon as the bad guy. To his left sat Twilight, a copy of 101 Efficient Enchantments sitting unfolded on the floor before her. To his right sat Sparkle, her old and fading copy of My Very First Spell (A Picture Book) hovering before her, a pad on the ground for her to take notes as she studied it.

Sometimes, one of them would look at their respective tomes and read a few lines. If it was Twilight, she would invariably start reading right to left, start, and then begin again. If it was Sparkle, she would take a note on her pad.

Sometimes, one of the ponies would look at Spike, and give him a reassuring hoof pat or a nuzzle.

Sometimes, the ponies would look at each other—but only very briefly, each of them quickly looking away.

Mostly, they just looked at the floor.

“Well, this was fun!” Twilight proclaimed after exactly an hour had passed, her gaze darting to the clock on the wall. She snapped her book shut, the distinctive clap echoing through the library.

“Definitely!” Sparkle agreed, rising quickly. “We should do it again soon!”

“Well, it’s late,” Twilight added, both of them already on their way out, Sparkle to her room, Twilight to her lab. Their voices fell into choir as they both called out: “Goodnight Spike!”

Spike watched each of them go, with growing frustration, and when they were gone, he let out a harsh sigh, crossing his arms with a grumble of: “Horseapples.”

“Spike!” Two voices called out in chorus, a pair of purple, horn-adorned heads sticking out of doorframes to spot him. “Language!”

“—and then they grounded me for a week! Each!” Spike complained, as he gathered Fluttershy’s books from the library shelves. The yellow pegasus had stopped by looking for a guide to caring for highly poisonous spiders, and with neither Twilight nor Sparkle in residence, it was up to Spike to assist her. He had also decided to take the chance to talk to her, since he would not be visiting her cottage again, ever. Fluttershy watched him work with a strangely curious expression, her eyes following every one of Spike’s dragging, shuffling steps.

“The worst part of it is the ball and chain; I have no idea what I’m going to do if someone asks for a book on the top shelf,” he added with a grumble. His little claws pulled the heavy weight behind him, the iron links and ball leaving a long scratch on the wooden floor. The chain rattled as he moved to scramble up the shelf ladder after the book, the ball propped against the ladder’s base.

“Well. That answers some of the questions I had about that,” Fluttershy started hesitantly. Spike pressed on before she could ask the rest, his claw plucking her book from the shelf.

“It would almost be easier if one of them was the evil clone. At least that would be over quicker than this… denial!” Spike exclaimed sharply, sliding down the ladder with Fluttershy’s last book held under one arm, his other taking hold of the chain to drag it back to the table.

“I know Princess Celestia checked and everything. But. Are you sure they’re entirely mentally stable?” Fluttershy checked with a hesitant squeak.

Spike stopped to rest, leaning on the mass of metal beside him as he caught his breath. “Yeah, why?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“Um,” Fluttershy paused for a moment. “No reason.”

“I just don’t know what to do. When they’re alone, it’s like good old Twilight Sparkle, but they’re trying to avoid each other so much it’s driving them crazy! This morning, I caught them both sneaking around so they wouldn’t have to see each other getting breakfast! It’s insane!” The more the dragon spoke, the more strain seeped into his tone, until by the end of it he was almost shouting.

“Oh, that sounds awful!” Fluttershy squeaked, reaching out to Spike with a hoof. “I haven’t noticed anything like that. They’ve both seemed so happy to spend time with friends.”

“That’s just it,” he sighed. “When they’re around friends, they’re fine. It’s each other they can’t stand.” He drummed his claws on the iron ball, expression distant and thoughtful, claws electing a steady ringing sound as he pondered.

“Maybe we should get Pinkie Pie to throw a party?” Fluttershy suggested. “Give them some time to get to know each other around other people.”

“They already know each other pretty well, Fluttershy,” Spike muttered. “If they just didn’t like each other I’d understand it. But they’re perfectly nice to each other.” After a moment more with his thoughtful gaze to the earth, he again glanced at Fluttershy. “Is this a pony thing or something? Would you freak out if there were two of you?”

“Oh… I don’t think so,” she answered softly, trying to break Spike’s frustration with a smile and good cheer. “I think I’d really like having a copy! It would be like making a new friend. One who’s quiet, and kind, and shares my love of stitching. And we’d have so much more time to take care of the animals! There’s this little family of ferrets near Hoofington that really needs help, but they’re so far away and it’s hard to find the time—”

As Fluttershy continued about the details of exactly what animals having a copy would allow her to better care for, Spike allowed his mind to drift. He tuned out the conversation, giving only occasional reflexive utterances of “uh-huh” and “go on” to keep things moving. Apart from the world, his mind drifted through scenario after scenario, seeking a solution to the problems of the two mares in his life. But nothing seemed to work, and after a time, he looked up to another figure in the room. The chain around his ankle stretched to its full length, as he trotted over to Pee-Wee’s perch.

“So, what do you think?” he asked the phoenix hatchling. The incendiary bird answered with a curious tweet, his little wings flapping as he looked at Spike. In the background, Fluttershy continued her explination oblivious to Spike’s muttered conversation with his magical pet.

“-could finish that new fish hatchery I’ve been thinking of, maybe even get Twilight to enchant it-”

“I don’t know, Pee-Wee,” Spike answered, gaze turned to the base of the bird’s perch. “I guess the spell might have done something but… I don’t think so. They’re both way too much like the pony I remember. She gets like this sometimes, you know? She doesn’t deal with stress well.” Pee-Wee tilted his head at Spike quizzically, delivering a sharp tap of the beak to the top of Spike’s head to make him look up. Tiny sparks rolled off the phoenix as he flapped his wings, tweeting energetically at Spike.

“-sing a duet in one voice! I bet the birds would just love that. They get spooked so easily and I’ve always wanted a second singer-”

“Mmm.” Spike tapped his chin, thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. But Twilight usually needs a push before she can work it out on her own. The problem is I don’t know what’s bothering her—er—them. And we’ve already tried just having them around each other.” He shook his head briefly. “Whatever’s getting to them, they don’t want to talk about it.” Pee-Wee paused briefly before letting out a curious chirp.

“-stand up to those bullies! Pegasi foals needs pets too,and we can run an adoption agency in Cloudsdale if we want!”

“No,” Spike muttered, with a trace of sadness, shaking his head. “I know I should bring it up with them, but… what if they say nothing’s wrong? What if they start being awkward around me? I still think of both of them as Twilight Sparkle. I can’t let us drift apart!” Pee-Wee gave an encouraging twitter, as he nuzzled his beak against the dragon’s head.

“-tell mother that she finally got that other daughter she wanted! Then she’ll respect our choices!”

“You really think so?” Spike asked after a hesitant pause. Pee-Wee gave another firm tweet in response. “I…” He hesitated again, but then nodded to Pee-Wee, face taking on a firm expression. “You’re right. Twilight’s been there for me when I needed her. I need to be there for her!” The little dragon curled his claws and struck an assertive stance, Pee-Wee giving an exuberant flutter. After a moment, Spike once again assumed a thoughtful expression, but this time, his jaw was set with determination.

“-will not love us, then they’ll learn to fear us! We may be nice, but we’re pegasi, and not to be crossed!”

“The problem is that if I just ask them, they’ll swear they like each other and nothing’s wrong. I need a way to make them answer honestly.” Pee-Wee nodded at Spike, encouraging. “I need an environment where they feel safe, so they can express their feelings!” The little bird nodded again, with a faint tweet. “Somewhere full of people they trust and can be open with!” The phoenix gave a little sing-song warble, his wings fluttering.

“-and when one of us emerged victorious, I would know at last if good or evil is truly stronger-”

“Or, since I’m in a library full of magical books, I could just dose each of them with a truth potion!” Spike exclaimed, bringing a fist down into his open palm, Pee-Wee’s urgent head-shaking and wing flapping ignored. “I just need to find someone who can get the ingredients while I’m grounded.”

“-but before the final blow, she would stop, and run a gentle hoof down my trembling side-”

It was after a moment’s thought that Spike came to a conclusion, turning around with a: “Hey, Fluttershy!” The pegasus abruptly stopped at the sound of Spike’s voice, a deep, rosy blush rising to her cheeks as she whirled in place to face him. Her eyes were wide with startelement, wings high, as she took a step away from Spike.

“I, uh-”

“Listen, could you do me a favor? I have an idea to help Twilight and Sparkle work through all these issues they’re having, but I need your help.” Spike silently hoped he hadn’t missed anything important when he tuned Fluttershy out, but at the moment, it was the least of the concerns on his mind.

“A favor?” Fluttershy asked hesitantly, her wings rapidly lowering as she faced the baby dragon. “Um… sure! And you won’t tell anypony what you heard, right?”

“Heard what? Sorry, I wasn’t really listening,” Spike apologized, scratching behind his head.

“Nothing. Great. Of course I’ll help,” Fluttershy spoke quickly. A sigh of relief escaped her as she walked in Spike’s direction, hooves clopping against the wood. “Oh, um… just out of curiosity. There’s no danger of Twilight casting that spell on anypony else, is there?”

“No, don’t worry.” Spike shook his head. “It only works on the caster.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy muttered, gaze turned down. “I guess that’s for the best.”

“The dishonest breath of a unicorn, a puff of cloud from the cruel seasonal storms, mix in a base of cider to loosen the tongue, and then strike with the shoe of an honest earth pony,” Spike read aloud as Fluttershy piled the ingredients onto the library’s table. The first item took the form of a sealed bottle with water vapor forming on the inside, the distinctive imprint of a kiss left upon the side of the glass. The second hovered over the table, a storm cloud no larger than a pony’s hoof that flashed with tiny lightning bolts. The third and fourth items came as a pair, one of Applejack’s worn horseshoes resting against a tankard of her finely aged apple cider.

“Liquid will turn a bright gold. Allow up to half an hour to take full effect.” He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning back to the earlier instructions.

“Wow. You know, when I read it out loud, this book is kind of tribalist.” Spike shook his head as he shut the heavy leather tome that rested on the far side of the table. Chain rattled behind him as he trotted over to stand by Fluttershy’s side, glancing over the ingredients as he went.

“How do we mix the breath in with the cider?” Fluttershy asked, hooves on the table as she considered the ingredients before them.

“I dunno. I guess we use the bottle as a mixing container,” Spike answered hesitantly. “Where did you get the breath of a dishonest unicorn anyway?”

“Oh, I just asked Trixie. Once I explained it was for Twilight, she was happy to help.” Fluttershy paused for a moment, adding, “Applejack was happy to give up one of her shoes too.”

“Right... well. On three?” Spike reached up to grasp the tankard of cider as his other claw moved to grab the cork of the bottle. A moment later, Fluttershy nodded and reached up to grasp the miniature stormcloud. “One...” Spike slowly counted aloud. “two... three!”

At the count’s conclusion, Spike sharply yanked the cork off the bottle, the tankard in his other claw already in motion. Fluttershy sharply stuffed the cloud into the bottle’s narrow neck, and then joined in holding the bottle still as Spike poured cider down into it. More of the thick liquid ended up on the table than in the bottle, but where cider met storm cloud, the reaction was so violent that Spike thought the bottle might shatter. Cider boiled and hissed inside the bottle, splattering the inside of the glass with black droplets and sending a sharp jet of steam out of the neck. The steam met the incoming cider, splattering it in all directions, and Spike dropped the tankard as he stumbled back in surprise. Thinking quickly, Fluttershy grasped Applejack’s horseshoe and cleanly tapped the side of the bottle. A loud, pure note rang out, and to Fluttershy’s relief, the whistle of steam subsided.

It took about a minute for Fluttershy to help Spike up and gently clean the splattered cider out of his eyes. By the time she finished, the cider covering the table and floor had hardened into a sticky resin. Inside the bottle, cloud and boiling cider had both condensed down into a watery golden liquid. As Spike wiped the last of the sticky droplets from his face, Fluttershy hovered over the sticky trap on the library floor, retrieving the bottle from the tabletop.

“I’m sorry, Spike. We really made a mess,” she murmured, her slowly-beating wings carrying her towards the two containers they had prepared. One was a water bottle of the sort used by athletes, the other a teacup. Fluttershy carefully poured half the potion into each, though her eyes remained on the dragon near her. Spike lowered his washcloth from his face, looking over the massive puddle of resin that covered the center of the library. Drops were splattered over the shelves and even on the ceiling, and Applejack’s horseshoe and tankard were now solidly stuck to the floor. He slowly let out a breath, and swallowed.

“It’s fine,” he answered her, and a moment later repeated himself. “It’s fine. I’ll... see if I can clean it up before Sparkle gets home. What matters is that you get Twilight down here so those two can work things out.” He looked up to the nearest clock. “It’s 2:00 now. Sparkle should be back in half an hour. You need to find Rainbow Dash and Twilight, get her to drink the potion, and then get her back here by 3:00. Got it?” He turned his gaze back to Fluttershy, who nodded.

“Right!” Fluttershy picked up the water bottle, tucking it into her saddlebags as she started towards the door. She paused before leaving, turning back to look at Spike. “Um. The mess was really my fault. I don’t want you to get in—”

“Fluttershy.” Spike gruffly pointed at the clock, the pegasus giving an embarrassed little smile in return.

“Heh. Right.” She turned away from Spike and flew out the open window, into Ponyville’s skies.

“-you’re unsuited for, the team that you adore! So pack up, go home, you’re through!”

Fluttershy had hoped to find Twilight and Rainbow Dash alone. She could have trotted up to them, said hello, and told Twilight that Spike made her some punch. She’d add a little conversation, and she would just have to make sure Twilight knew to come back to the library after she was done training. Of course, Fluttershy had no such luck.

Singing always attracted a crowd.

“How could I / make a mare / out of you?”

Twilight’s stinging rebuke make the assembled ponies wince in sympathy. They were in the park during a weekend afternoon, and so all three breeds of ponies were evident in abundance. A flock of pegasi hovered over the sandy stretch where Rainbow Dash stood trapped, and Fluttershy was forced to maneuver around an equally large crowd of earth ponies and unicorns.

In the sand pit, Rainbow Dash was struggling to make headway, a bright red cloth tied to a tree on the pit’s far side. But even with her late arrival, Fluttershy immediately knew something was wrong with her. It was as though gravity weighed upon her harder then it should. She struggled to hold up her head and lift her wings. Her knees shook with her own weight. Her hooves had sunk deep into the sand, making it impossible for her to proceed, and she looked ready to collapse when Twilight shook her head dismissively.

Her body shuddered with strain, as her knees startled to buckle, her kneecaps brushing the sand. A hush came over the crowd, as they watched with breathless anticipation. Rainbow Dash’s eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted into a grimace. Even Fluttershy momentarily forgot about her mission entirely, spellbound by the sight before her.

And then, Rainbow Dash stood back up, and the crowd went wild.

“Be a mare!” the mass of them called, ponies in the back cheering and hopping up and down for excitement. When Rainbow Dash started to beat her wings to take the strain off her legs, the pegasi sang as one. “With wings as swift as a bolt of lightning!”

“Be a mare!” the crowd chanted again. Sand swirled around Rainbow Dash with the force of her rapid wingbeats, sweat pouring down her face. She tried to move a hoof, but found herself stuck fast, too deep in the sand to push forward. She hesitated for a moment, but then gritted her teeth and glared at the sand. With a visible wince, she carefully lifted a trapped hoof vertically, and then just as neatly pressed it forward. From that first careful step, she made more, her motions neat and precise as the unicorns sang, “With all the grace of a stalking crane!”

“Be a mare!” the crowd chanted for the third time. Fluttershy was well and caught up in the spirit of the moment, singing and shouting along with them as Rainbow Dash made it to the edge of the sand pit. The cloth was just out of reach, and no matter how Rainbow Dash struggled to raise a hoof or beat her wings, she could not find the height to reach it. She snarled, and struck the tree with her hoof with enough force to drive her horseshoes into the wood, starting the slow and brutal climb for those last few inches of height. “With all the strength of a raging fire!” the earth ponies sang.

“A pegasus! A one-pony hurricane!” the crowd finished as one, just as Rainbow Dash’s teeth ripped the cloth from its branch.

Fluttershy had not noticed that Rainbow Dash was wearing horseshoes, and so it caught her by surprise when Twilight’s horn came alight, and those horseshoes suddenly popped off. For a moment, the massive strength that Rainbow Dash was using just to hang on threatened to hurtle her into the branch above her head. But she let go, tumbling back into the sand pit. Her entire body went limp with strain, Twilight and several others rushing to help her up as the crowd started to chant. “Rain-bow Dash! Rain-bow Dash! Rain-bow Dash!”

“You did it!” Twilight exclaimed as two ponies delecatly helped Rainbow Dash back to her hooves, letting her soak in the praise from the crowd that continued to whoop and cheer. A smile was plastered all over the unicorn’s face as she watched Rainbow Dash spit out the red cloth.

“My whole body is numb!” Rainbow Dash managed a weak laugh, as she tried to blink the sweat out of her eyes. But a smile touched her face too, her blurry vision peering out to the crowd of chanting ponies around her. Then, Fluttershy lept forward and hugged her.

“Oh my gosh, that was incredible!” she burst out as she all but crashed into her friend, hooves squeezing tight around Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes went wide.

“Not numb! Not numb at all! Oh Celestia, why!? Why!?” Fluttershy jumped back in surprise at Rainbow Dash’s agonized outburst, but Twilight was quick to take her place. Twilight’s horn started to glow as her magic soothed Rainbow Dash’s agonized muscles.

Between the adorations of the crowd and Twilight’s ministrations, it was several minutes before Fluttershy could get a word in to her friends. Ponies came and went, wishing Rainbow Dash good luck or expressing their admiration, and she eventually recovered to the point that she could sit down on the dirt comfortably. The strain of the effort was still visible in the sweat that covered her body, and audible in every strained breath. But the smile never left her face, and not once did she complain.

Eventually, only Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy were left, and the three could at last talk in peace. “That was amazing!” Fluttershy was first to speak, trotting up to her friend. “I thought you weren't going to make it!”

“Oh yeah, Twilight’s a real slave driver.” At Rainbow Dash’s words, Twilight blushed and looked towards the earth, a faint smile appearing on her face. “But it was nothing I couldn't handle!”

“I’m just trying to push you to excel,” Twilight insisted, awkwardly scraping the ground with a hoof. “We’ve still got more to do today! There’s stretching exercises, and going over theory, and later, I thought we could—”

“Twilight.” Rainbow Dash raised a hoof, Twilight’s blush burning brighter.

“Or we could give you a bit to rest.” She corrected herself.

“Oh. Um,” Fluttershy muttered, when she remembered why she was here. “Are you sure you two wouldn't rather go back to the library? I just came from there, and um... Spike is really sorry about what happened. He was hoping you’d be back today and, um, he made you punch.” Her wing pulled her saddlebags opened, and she offered the bottle Twilight’s way. As Twilight accepted it, Rainbow Dash sniffed at the air.

“Do I smell cider?”

“Well, um,” Fluttershy replied. “There’s cider in it—”

“No, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight interjected sharply. “You know you’re on a training diet. No sugar and definitely no cider.”

“Aww c'mon!” Rainbow Dash threw her hooves up in frustration and then immediately regretted it, lowering her legs slowly with a visible wince. “I didn’t see you struggling just to get up!”

Twilight sighed, and after a moment, the cap of the bottle started to sparkle as it unscrewed itself. “We’ll both head back to the library and get some water.” She upended the open container, letting the golden liquid inside spill out onto the earth. Fluttershy tried to object, but all that emerged were faint noises of hesitation, until the liquid was all gone.

“I, um... I think that was supposed to be a gift for you, Twilight. From Spike.” Twilight shot Fluttershy an apologetic look, shaking her head.

“I know, Fluttershy. It’s so nice of you to help him like this. I should have a talk with him when we get back and let him know I’m not mad. Would you like to come with us? I know he likes it when you visit!” Seeing Twilight’s open mood gave Fluttershy hope that perhaps her mission had not been a total failure, and so she quickly nodded in response. “Ready to go, Rainbow Dash?” Twilight asked over her shoulder, as the pegasus rose to her hooves.

“Fur fing!” she mumbled through her words, Twilight looking back just in time for her to repeat, “Uh, I mean, sure thing! Let’s go.”

“—and then there was cider everywhere and I got stuck so I had to get a cloth but then I tracked it into the kitchen so I had to clean that up and—” Spike spoke in a single run-on sentence of indefinite length. He went on so long, Sparkle became moderately perplexed by his ability to do so without stopping for breath. The center of the library was a mess. Congealed cider was everywhere. Horseshoes, tankards and cleaning cloths were stuck in the mess like dinosaurs in a tar pit. Even Spike’s apron had somehow managed to get stuck there, the dragon having apparently discarded it in order to enable his own escape. Sparkle let him continue until she was sure no more relevant details were going to come forth, and then silenced him with a hoof to the shoulder.

“Spike,” she interrupted. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re... not?” Spike asked her hesitantly, glancing up from her hooves, where his eyes had so far rested.

“No, Spike,” she reassured him. “You did make a bit of a mess.” She glanced back at the cider spill. “Okay, a lot of a mess. But you took responsibility, started working to fix it, and I don’t think any permanent harm has been done.” She smiled down at him, moving her hoof to tilt his chin up. “And... well. I might have been a little hard on you last night.” The faint purple glow of her horn surrounded the ball and chain, and after a moment, its lock came undone. “You shouldn't use that language!” Twilight insisted. “But I know I’ve put you through a lot recently.”

For a moment, Spike was left at a loss for words, just scratching the back of his head with a claw. A flash of guilt rushed through his mind at the thought of deceiving the mare before him, but he quashed those thoughts, nodding to her. “Thanks, Sparkle. I um... I left you some tea. For when you got back from the schoolhouse.” He gestured in the kitchen’s general direction.

“Thank you, Spike.” Sparkle took a moment to enjoy Spike’s embarrassed smile, thinking back to earlier days. She soon trotted to the kitchen, levitating a few cider-splattered books along with her. She was wearing saddlebags stuffed with school supplies, but resolved to see to them only after she’d done her part to help clean. The books she dropped to the left side of the kitchen table, the tea Spike left for her on the right. She levitated a cloth towards her, dampening it in the sink as Spike stole a glance in through the open door.

“So. Um,” he began, carefully watching to see if the teacup moved. It was almost 2:45, and the little dragon was sure that Fluttershy would be coming back with Sparkle in tow at any moment. “How was teaching?”

“Good! I’m not really teaching, just helping Cherilee with some of her unicorn students, but it’s going wonderfully! Dinky has a real gift, despite a certain dragon’s efforts to stop her from developing it.” Sparkle tapped the table with her hoof for emphasis when she spoke, the faint glow of her magic levitating the teacup to her lips. Her ear quirked upwards when she heard Spike’s sigh of relief, an action that was quickly misinterpreted. “Don’t worry. I told her that you didn’t hate her, you were just having a bad day. We really should give you a chance to tell her in person though.”

“Sounds like you’re learning a lot.” Spike turned back to the mess, kneeling on the floor as he started to scrape the congealed cider from the wood. “Are you going to turn this into a letter to Celestia?”

“Well. Um,” Sparkle managed, a pause hanging in the air before she could continue. “Not everything needs to be part of my advanced studies, Spike. Some things are just worth doing for their own sake.”

The silence that followed lasted until Twilight burst in through the door at a gallop, two pegasi just behind her.

“Spike!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, the dragon sitting up so sharply at the sound of her voice he almost leapt into the air. “There you are! Find my copies of Perplexing Pony Plagues and The Complete Guide to Exotic Illnesses. Something’s wrong with Rainbow Dash.” Fluttershy had run in the door on her hooves, but Rainbow Dash was flying, despite being so worn it obviously pained her just to stay aloft. She was flying that way so that she could keep both forehooves clamped over her mouth. Her gaze shifted wildly when Sparkle trotted into the room, looking quickly between the three newcomers.

“What’s wrong?” Sparkle asked, quick to trot to Twilight’s side, her eyes keenly examining Rainbow Dash for any signs of illness or injury. “An advanced case of Creeping Fatigue could cause extreme—”

“No, the sweat is from exercise.” Twilight shook her head quickly, telekinetically pulling the pair of books out of Spike’s claws when he rushed back with them. Spike and Fluttershy exchanged a quick, helpless glance, one that went unnoticed by any of the other three ponies in the room. “She’s been experiencing uncontrollable, involuntary outbursts. It came on much too fast to be psychological, and it can’t be random that it showed up after extreme physical effort. Definitely some kind of nervous disorder.”

“What kind of outbursts?” Sparkle asked, quickly pulling a second reading stand into place.

“Um...” Fluttershy started to answer, exchanging another helpless glance with Spike. Her gaze went to the floor after that, Twilight cutting in.

“Random things.” Twilight shook her head, evading the question. “It might be a form of Tourtrots Syndrome. But the statements seem too varied.” As Twilight explained, Sparkle looked up to Rainbow Dash, watching her carefully.

“Rainbow Dash, I know this has to be embarrassing for you. But you won’t get better by straining yourself like that, and just what it is you’re saying might be important to diagnosing you.” Sparkle gave her a reassuring smile. “Please. Come down here and talk to us?”

Slowly, Rainbow Dash unfolded her hooves and lowered herself to the floor, knees sagging as they finally took the weight off her strained wings. “Thanks, Sparkle,” She sighed, emotional as well as physical relief running through her words. “I don’t know what I do without you. I’m just afraid to admit how grateful I am because I worry you’ll respect me less.”

At once, she slapped a hoof over her face, eyes going wide with shock as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. Rainbow Dash urgently shook her head to signal for silence. Fluttershy let her gaze bore into the ground all the more intensely as Spike took a guilty step away from the table.

“It’s okay, Rainbow Dash,” Sparkle spoke into that silence. “You don’t have to say anything. I know.” Twilight looked between them in silence, her expression attentive but flat, as Rainbow Dash lowered her hoof to the ground.

“I also schedule rain on the days I’m supposed to babysit the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” She flinched as the words flew out of her mouth, like she had been physically struck. “And... and sometimes! I shut all the blinds in my house and pose in front of the mirror in my gala dress!” Tears started to form in the pegasus's eyes, and her attempt to again block her mouth only resulted in her sharply biting her hoof until it came free. “And sometimes I’m afraid that the reason the Wonderbolts don’t want me even after I did the sonic rainboom is because they know I’m just not—”

“Rainbow Dash!” Sparkle stepped around the table, and put a hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder, slowly pulling the pegasus forward into a hug. “It’s okay.” She quietly shushed the sniffling pegasus, gently patting her on the back.

“You can’t tell anypony! None of you! None of what you heard!” Rainbow Dash insisted, blinking away tears as Twilight held her. “My life would be ruined!”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight assured, stepping out from behind the table to stand at Sparkle’s side. “No one will tell. We’ll find out what’s wrong with you and—”

“It was me!” Fluttershy yelled, throwing herself at Rainbow Dash’s hooves. “I can’t take the guilt. I did it!” Her wide eyes looked up at Rainbow Dash from the floor, now stained with tears in turn. “I spiked Twilight’s punch with a truth potion!”

Spike took another quiet step backwards, as three sets of pony eyes all focused on Fluttershy. “But I poured that drink out,” Twilight replied, perplexed. Rainbow Dash’s lips started to quiver with the force of another involuntary confession, but she was saved that humiliation by Sparkle’s own outburst.

“Fluttershy!” Her hoof stamped at the wooden floor beams, an angry snort emerging from her muzzle. Fluttershy whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as she shivered in the floor. She couldn't meet the three pairs of eyes looking down at her, her confession directed to the ground.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault! Spike was just so worried about you and Twilight—”

“Spike!” Two heads turned at once, as identical voices shouted in unison, Spike put on the spot twice over. Both of them glared, but it was Twilight who took the lead. “Explain yourself!” She demanded, a sharp step forward backing Spike up against the bookshelves behind him. The little dragon’s eyes went back and forth in a panic, as he stammered incoherently.

“Wait...” Sparkle muttered, eyes going wide as she lifted a hoof to her lips. “Spike! Did you...?”

“I just wanted you to be honest about your issues with Twilight!” Spike pleaded, a look of shock and indignation passing over Sparkle’s face.

“So you decided to spike my drink? I don’t even have any issues with Twilight!” Sparkle stamped the floor with a furious snort. “I just wish she would disappear already so I could have my life back.”

Slowly, in a perfect mirror of Rainbow Dash’s actions just a moment ago, Sparkle raised a trembling hoof to cover her mouth.

Interlude: In Dreaming

“I’ll tell you what we’ve learned, Discord! We’ve learned that friendship isn’t always easy, but there’s no doubt it’s worth fighting for.” Twilight Sparkle stood proud before Discord’s throne, her eyes narrowed in a determined glare. The Spirit of Disharmony looked more amused than threatened, but when she finished, he sharply drew close, a wince on his face. Behind him, Twilight Sparkle could see a flight of pigs lazily wandering through the air, above the twisted checkerboard that was all that remained of Equestria.

“Uugh! Gag. Fine, go ahead, try and use your little elements ‘frenemies.’ Just make it quick.” With a flash, Discord vanished, reappearing back on his throne. “I’m missing some excellent chaos here!” He gave a wide, lazy gesture with his eagle’s claw, encompassing the floating islands and twisted creatures all around them. His lion’s paw was pressed to his chest, and when he relaxed, a smug grin showed his one fang.

“Alright, ladies! Let’s show him what friendship can do!” Twilight Sparkle grinned in turn, lowering her head so that her element faced Discord head on. She shut her eyes and concentrated, power flowing from her body to her horn, from her horn to her crown, into the Element of Magic itself. Purple light surrounded her, an aura that grew grand and wild, humming with unnatural strength.

It continued to hum.

At some point, Discord started to laugh, bringing his paw and claw together in a slow, mocking clap. Twilight Sparkle’s eyes opened wide, and she looked wildly around her to see what was wrong. She saw no trace of her friends, fear rushing through her when she realized she was alone before Discord.

“Missing something, Twilight Sparkle?” the Spirit of Disharmony asked, his deep chuckle lending menace to his words. He flew from his throne down towards her, slithering through the air like a serpent even as his wings gently beat. “Mmm, no,” he corrected himself, “I see you do have everything you need after all.” A point from his claw made Twilight Sparkle look downwards, where she saw the other five Elements of Harmony, wrapped around her neck. Necklaces on top of necklaces piled up against her, and the weight of them pulled her to her knees.

“What have you done with my friends, Discord!?” Twilight Sparkle demanded, defiant even in the face of this turnabout. Discord only laughed, leaning back with a paw over his chest.

“Feisty,” he observed approvingly, but his tone quickly shifted back to mockery. “But as it happens, I didn’t do anything to your friends, Twilight Sparkle. You’ve already proven you can defeat me when you have five other ponies do to the heavy lifting, and you will receive no points for solving the same challenge twice! This time you’re on your own.”

“Already...” Twilight Sparkle narrowed her eyes in confusion, wondering if Discords strange assertion was another of his tricks. There was no time to think about the matter at length however, not when she was before the Spirit of Disharmony himself. “But nopony can wield the Elements on their own!” Twilight Sparkle tried to rise to her hooves, but she couldn't lift her neck, the weight of metal around it making her body shake and pinning her to the ground.

“That is a lie, Twilight Sparkle.” In a flash of light, Discord changed before her. His scales and coat turned white, and boots of gold adorning his legs. His wings turned to papier-mâché and were tacked on, a horn suspended above his head by a stiff wire that ran down around his ears. He gave a disapproving click of his tongue, presenting the pony before him with a report card that clearly read, “Equestrian History: F.”

“No more games, Discord!” Twilight Sparkle smacked the report card out of his grasp. She gritted her teeth and struggled against the weight around her neck, shakily rising to her hooves. “If you could make it impossible for the Elements to be used against you, you would have done it in the first place. For whatever reason, you have to give us a fair chance to defeat you. Now show me the Bearers of the Elements!”

Discord started with surprise at her request, but then his eyes narrowed, and his smile grew wide and dark. “As you wish, Twilight Sparkle, and since you’re right that I love a good bout, I’ll even give you a hint.” Discord reared up, transforming back to his usual self, now in a beret and a set of small, dark glasses.

“Each morning I was vanquished, with silver and glass, but as they reject you, you now must surpass, your previous conquest, over chaos and lies. To defeat me now, see what’s in front of your eyes.”

He snapped his fingers.

Twilight Sparkle was somewhere dark.

Most kinds of dark didn’t scare her. She was not frightened of the night, or the gloom of the Everfree Forest, or the shadows in a dim room. She did not fear every bump in the night or rustle outside her room, like she had when she was a foal with her nightlight. She did not fear those things, because she knew they were nothing but darkness, that they could not hurt her.

This darkness was different. It concealed things. Things that could and would hurt a pony. Twilight Sparkle could tell she was in a confined space, by what little light there was. It was so dim that at first she thought she was sealed in a box, but gradually, she picked out other features—square, but not a box. She was in a hallway, a passage, one that smelled like dirt, rot, and stale copper. She could hear rustling in the distance, the sound of things moving.

Quickly, she lit her horn. The world revealed by it’s glow did little to assuage her fears. She was in a narrow passageway dug out of the earth, reinforced by old wooden beams. Broken bits of crates, rusted lengths of chain, and other odds and ends of mining lay abandoned along either side of the path around her. The light from her horn did not stretch far, but she could already see branching corridors before and behind her—a maze that stretched out every way but up.

“H-hello?” Twilight Sparkle called, hesitantly walking forward. There was no sign of Discord’s chaos here. This place felt very real. The hairs on the back of Twilight Sparkle’s neck started to rise with each step, her body growing more tense. Light shifted around her as she moved, shadows from stray pieces of debris seeming to dance and scuttle as she walked past them. The metallic tinge in the air was distinct, joined to the scent of molding wood and general decay.

“Is there anypony here?” Twilight Sparkle asked, almost at a whisper, afraid now to raise her voice.

“Shhh!” A voice from the left made Twilight Sparkle jump with surprise, the Elements around her neck jangling sharply. She turned, seeing another unicorn just down one of the side passages. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, tone indignant and head held high. Her posture and bearing reminded Twilight Sparkle of nothing so much as the spoiled nobility of Canterlot—another overbred unicorn who couldn’t so much as find the time of day for anypony.

“Dim that light,” The Noblepony demanded. “You’ll get us all killed if the monster sees it.”

“T-there’s a monster down here?” Twilight Sparkle quickly dimmed her horn’s light.

“No, the monster will see the light all the way from outside. Of course it’s down here!” The Noblepony insisted, irritated at Twilight Sparkle’s delay. “You’re lucky I was here to find you. Come with me.” She turned and quickly trotted back down her side corridor, Twilight Sparkle following her.

It didn’t take the two long to reach their destination. No matter how far they walked. Twilight Sparkle saw no end to the mine. Every passage seemed to stretch on as far as her light would carry, until it was lost into gloom. The mine seemed to go on forever, but barely a hundred paces down The Noblepony’s side passage, they came to a heavy wooden door. The Noblepony gently tapped it with a hoof three times in quick succession, and on the other side, a heavy bolt slid open. “This way.” The Noblepony gestured Twilight Sparkle inside, and once they were both through, shut the door behind her.

Once the door was shut, The Noblepony let her horn flare to a bright light, and Twilight Sparkle took that as her cue to do the same. The room was small, little more then a walk-in closet, unfurnished except for a small table. There were five ponies there in total, including the two of them. One sat in the corner, a small and unremarkable unicorn that stared at her hooves and tried not to make eye contact. One stood in front of the table, giggling to herself with an unhinged grin, repeatedly stroking her own hair with both hooves. The last sat on the table’s other side, with a dreamily relaxed smile on her face, happily reading through a copy of The History of Spackle as though nothing were amiss.

In an instant, Twilight Sparkle took a disliking to all of them. It was possible, given her request, that Discord had somehow made these mares four of the six Bearers of the Elements, but that seemed unlikely. They were obviously as useless and faulty as the mare who led her here, and none seemed well suited to dealing with reality, much less a crisis. She silently named them The Foal, The Lunatic, and Ivory Tower, resolving to ask their actual names later.

“Well, now that that’s over with—” The Noblepony started. The Lunatic barged past her. Twilight Sparkle shrunk away as the other pony leapt clear into her personal space, wrapping her forehooves around Twilight Sparkle’s neck.

“The Elements!” Her voice was like somepony dragging her hoof down a chalkboard, and Twilight Sparkle winced more from the sound than from the weight. Having her so close was palpably unpleasant, even frightening. Her eyes were too wide and her pupils too small, her mane and tail each a ragged mess. She watched as The Lunatic’s eyes wandered over each of the elements, necklaces to crown, and then finally turned to stare unblinkingly into her eyes

“That’s... right.” Twilight Sparkle hesitantly answered. “They’re—”

“The Elements of Harmony!” The Lunatic burst out, an ear twitching behind her head. “That must mean you’re here so that we can use them to defeat the monster! I wonder which one is mine? Is it this one, or this one, or—” It was all Twilight Sparkle could do not to leap away, as the madpony in front of her started to grab at the Elements like a magpie looking for shiny objects. Luckily, The Noblepony sharply smacked The Lunatic away.

“Stop that!” she demanded, raising one hoof in front of her and grimacing. Twilight Sparkle thought it looked a little like she was posing for a statue of herself, hoof up, head high, eyes down on those below her. “The Elements bond to their users at the appropriate time. You can’t just grab one and light them up.”

“You don’t have enough evidence to support that claim.” Ivory Tower insisted, her crisp, critical inflections reminiscent of teachers and tutors Twilight Sparkle preferred to forget. “The Elements have only bonded to users twice in known history, and since the first of those incidents was Princess Celestia, you have only a single data point for how they behave in the presence of normal ponies. That is insufficient to establish general trends.”

The Noblepony scoffed, raising a hoof to her chest. “The Elements of Harmony are not a science experiment.” She spoke slowly and evenly, as if she were explaining something to a particularly dimwitted foal. “They’re a supernatural representation of—”

“Special pleading.” Ivory Tower tapped the table twice sharply with a hoof. “In the second relevant case, the Bearers of the Elements became friends shortly before the Elements defeated Nightmare Moon. However, with only a single data point, it is impossible to show a causal link between those two events. Going out there to fight the monster would entail significant risk on your claim that the Elements will defeat it, and I refuse to accept any claim I cannot prove.” With a sharp shake of her head, she turned back to her book. Twilight Sparkle looked between the three of them in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” Twilight Sparkle took a step back and opened her mouth to continue, only to be interrupted by a feeble whimper from the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry,” the mare who Twilight Sparkle had decided to think of as The Foal whimpered, squeezing herself tighter into the corner. She lowered her head to try to hide her face, but everypony could see she was starting to tear up, faint sniffles audible. Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes, letting out an irritated sigh.

“No, forget it. I’m sorry I said anything. You’re not crazy. Just don’t cry.” Her words seemed to have little impact on The Foal, though she did look back up at least. “How did you all get down here in this mine? What’s the monster outside? What’s happening?”

“We each asked to see the Bearers of the Elements,” The Noblepony explained. “Next thing we knew, we were down in this mineshaft. I can only infer that Discord has tried to impede the Elements’ use by causing them to bond to ponies who, while they technically possess the relevant virtues—” she chuckled, pressing a confident hoof to her chest and shutting her eyes for a moment “—are so unpleasant and generally useless as to make the required friendship difficult.”

“I try to be nice,” The Foal insisted, looking at The Noblepony imploringly, before looking down at her hooves again. “I always mess up, though.”

“Well...” The Noblepony managed, after a hesitant pause. “That’s... great. You clearly fold like a sponge under the slightest pressure, so based on past history, I’m going to assume you’re the Element of Kindness.” The Noblepony’s horn came alight as she pulled one of the Elements from around Twilight Sparkle’s neck, letting it come to rest around The Foal. “Naturally, I’m the Element of Magic—”

“Whoa, hold it.” Twilight Sparkle insisted. “You can’t just go and assign elements to ponies based on what you think fits them. I’m the Element of Magic.”

“And you’re doing a real bang-up job of it,” The Noblepony complimented her, reaching out to ruffle Twilight Sparkle’s mane like an adult would a petulant colt. “But let’s be serious. I have a little more magical ability then the average unicorn to start with, and I was trained by the best in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. The Element of Magic clearly fits me. Besides, the Element of Magic also symbolizes the leader of the group, and, well...” She cast a skeptical gaze over Twilight Sparkle, setting the other unicorn’s teeth on edge.

“Listen to me, you pretentious—” Twilight Sparkle started, but the brewing argument between her and The Noblepony was cut short by the sound of giggling. The Lunatic’s eyes darted between the other two ponies unnaturally quickly, her eyelid twitching as she laughed to herself.

“Numbers are important,” she murmured, that off-tone, scratchy voice setting Twilight Sparkle on edge. “Five. Five ponies here. Not six! Five. You can’t have five Bearers of the Elements. This is the problem, you see? Nopony thinks things through. They don’t listen to me. They run off and just end up making more problems!” She turned on the others in the room with a sudden glare, the intensity of the action enough to make all the standing ponies step back, while The Foal cowered in the corner. The Lunatic held that glare for a moment, and then it vanished as suddenly as it appeared, replaced by a rictus of a smile.

“But don’t worry! I thought of a solution!” The Lunatic reached behind her, and sharply upended the table at which she had been sitting. It hit the floor with a crash, revealing the drawings she had carved into its rough wooden surface. They looked like anatomical sketches, sections of a pony clearly demarcated by dotted lines. “By my calculations, we have just enough spare parts between us to cobble together a sixth pony. Except for the brain of course, but that’s okay. I think I know how to fix the reanimation spell so we don’t even need it!” The Lunatic’s horn came alight, and she drew a set of dirty surgical knives from behind the fallen table, looking around the room with a gleeful, “Who wants to go first?”

Twilight Sparkle sharply scrambled away from the obvious madpony, and many of the others joined her. Ivory Tower leapt away, and The Noblepony braced herself for combat, letting her horn come to life. Only The Foal didn’t run away, having nowhere to go, her ears folding back in fright.

“Now girls, there’s no need to be afraid! I’m a very capable surgeon, probably! I’ve certainly read enough books on the subject.” Her gaze traveled from pony to pony, the knives behind her floating along so that their points followed her gaze. “It’s not like we can stay here!”

“This isn’t a well-reasoned plan!” Ivory Tower insisted, shuddering as she backed away, the broken remains of an old bucket and chain left on the floor striking her hooves as she moved. “Those knives are unsuited for amputation. There are multiple organs that lack redundancy other than the brain. There’s no logical reason for me to be in an old mine being threatened by madponies. Clearly, this isn’t viable!”

“You obviously don’t know the first thing about necromancy or surgery,” The Noblepony insisted, sharply pointing at The Lunatic and tensing herself for combat. “Now put those knives down before I use force.”

“I think I hear the monster coming,” The Foal squeaked.

Instantly, The Lunatic dropped her knives, backing away from the door. The Noblepony doused her horn’s light, and Twilight Sparkle did the same, plunging the room into darkness. In the pitch black, Twilight Sparkle strained to hear any trace of the creature’s presence, adrenaline shooting through her like ice water. As her ears stood alert, growing more sensitive to the faintest of noises, she started to hear the sound of her own breathing. She started to hear the beat of her own heart, and in that tense silence, it seemed like the beating of a drum whose sound would call all predators near.

Then she heard the breathing outside.

The sound was low and deep. Each breath was drawn between clenched teeth and emerged as a growl. Twilight Sparkle could hear hoofbeats, but couldn't believe that the creature outside was a pony. Nopony could make noises like that, sounds of such undiluted rage. This was some tartarian beast, some abomination that desired only to destroy whatever was placed in front of it. Twilight Sparkle shivered when the door rattled in its frame. The monster let out a long, slow hiss, and everypony in the room held their breaths, realizing the creature was listening at the door.

The creature’s presence seemed to stretch on forever, listening, growling, waiting for them. It stayed until Twilight Sparkle’s lungs were burning, until she had squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. Her body demanded she breathe, no matter how much she knew that would get them all killed. Though the room was dark, spots were appearing in her vision. It was all she could do not to let the breath out, when she again heard hoofbeats outside, the creature turning away from the door.

Once it had passed out of hearing range, Twilight Sparkle released her long-held breath. She sucked down the dirty mine air like it was the elixir of life, and the rest of the room did much the same. The Noblepony lit her horn again, illuminating their expressions of relief. Ivory Tower slumped against the floor in shock.

“Good job.” Twilight Sparkle found a strained smile for The Foal, the other pony picking herself up out of the corner. “How in Equestria did you hear it coming up the hall? I could barely make it out even after we were all quiet.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” The Foal replied. “I just figured that with how loud we were all being, it would definitely hear us soon if it hadn’t already.” She glanced at Twilight Sparkle’s face, then down at her hooves. “That was clever of me... right?” Her fishing for praise rapidly depleted the good will she had earned a moment ago, but Twilight Sparkle nodded anyway, and The Foal beamed.

“Before he sent me here, Discord—” Twilight Sparkle started to explain, only for The Foal to interject.

“So... it was clever enough you think I could actually be one of the Bearers now?” she finished again. Twilight Sparkle shoot her an irritated glance.

“Yes, sure, fine,” Twilight Sparkle snapped. The Foal turned to look back at her own hooves, her face scrunched together as she averted her gaze. “As I was saying, before he sent me here, Discord gave me another one of his riddles. He said I vanquished him every morning with ‘silver and glass,’ but that now that they ‘rejected’ me, I’d have to do it again by ‘seeing what was in front of my eyes.’ He also said I’d have to beat him without help, which after seeing you four is easy to understand.”

“Well, that’s obviously a metaphor,” The Noblepony explained, with a steady tone and a wide, inclusive gesture. “‘Seeing what’s in front of your own eyes is usually used to indicate recognizing something simple, but unintuitive, so that you feel it was obvious in retrospect. ‘Silver and glass’ could indicate anything in your life literally or thematically tied to those two materials.”

“Too vague,” Ivory Tower corrected The Noblepony, rising to her hooves. “A riddle that imprecise could mean anything. I wouldn't put any weight on it.”

“Ooooh, I got it!” The Lunatic said, grinning as she walked back up to Twilight Sparkle, twisting her head at an odd angle, to look up at Twilight Sparkle from below. “What do you do every morning?”

“I... wake up, get out of bed, brush my mane...” Twilight Sparkle started to list off items, only for The Lunatic to lean in sharply. Twilight Sparkle trailed off, as she grew increasingly uncomfortable.

“Exactly! You brush your mane.” She nodded aggressively, like her head were a bobble-toy. Twilight Sparkle and the others gave hesitant, nervous nods in return.

“Oh, I get it!” The Foal interrupted, hopping forward. “You brush your mane!” She repeated The Lunatic’s observation in a tone of great revelation, but The Noblepony was having none of it, and fixed her with an irritated glare.

“Which is relevant because?” she pointedly asked The Foal.

“Well, uh—” The Foal stammered, looking down to her hooves again. Her voice shrank away, growing quiet as a blush rose to her features. “It’s um... that is. It’s part of the riddle, so—”

“So you defeat chaos!” The Lunatic pressed on, nodding again to nopony in particular. “You take that chaotic, messy bedmane and make it all orderly and pretty. And you do it—”

“With a mirror!” The Foal cut in, eager and energetic, only to be silenced by a sharp, irritated glare from The Noblepony. The glare sent The Foal scrambling back into her corner.

“Well... mirrors are made of silver and glass,” Twilight Sparkle admitted, tapping her jaw with a hoof as she thought. “And since Discord is the spirit of chaos, you could view making a part of the world more orderly as ‘vanquishing’ him.” She turned to the fallen table, and with a touch of magic from her horn, levitated The Lunatic’s fallen knife collection. Stainless steel was not an ideal material for producing a reflective surface, but it would have to do, and it was probably better the madpony not have access to weapons anyway. Twilight Sparkle pulled the collection of knives closer to her, focusing her magic to transform the metal in front of her.

With a flash of purple light, the knives vanished. In their place appeared a small, undecorated hoof-mirror, little more than a metal disk with a handle attached. It hovered in front of Twilight Sparkle, held aloft by the glow of her telekinesis. The reflections in the stainless steel were muted and distorted, but clear enough. Twilight Sparkle could see the walls behind her, the door to the room, The Noblepony looking over her shoulder. What she could not see was herself.

“Well, that explains the second clause,” said The Noblepony, tapping Twilight Sparkle’s shoulder. “You vanquish chaos every morning when you brush your mane in the mirror, but now you can’t, because reflective surfaces won’t show your—”

“You don’t have to repeat everything that we just saw back to us like we’re foals,” Ivory Tower snapped at The Noblepony. “And this still doesn't explain the last clause. She needs to see what’s in front of her own eyes? If that is referring to what’s normally in front of you in a mirror—to whit, yourself—the riddle has rendered it functionally impossible for her to do that. Conversely, if it refers to what she is presently seeing in front of her eyes, the mirror, she has already fulfilled the terms to no effect. Further, Discord said that she would have to defeat him without help, and here we are, trying to help her. Clearly this is a waste of time.”

“Will you stop nitpicking everything everypony says?” Twilight Sparkle growled at Ivory Tower. “It’s no wonder you think you can’t help! You’re a useless, pedantic know-it-all! If the real Bearers were here, we’d already have this solved, so why don’t you just keep quiet and stay out of our way?” Ivory Tower stepped back at Twilight Sparkle’s words, The Noblepony smirking.

“Well said, now—” The Noblepony began.

“Don’t you start! You stuck up, arrogant, selfish, presumptuous, pretentious, brat of a pony! All you can think about is how much better you are then everypony else here. I’d say you’re delusional, but the sad thing is, you’re probably right! Not that that’s hard when your competition is a madpony and a needy foal who didn’t notice when she grew up!” Twilight Sparkle snorted, glaring at the others in the room. The Lunatic’s gaze flicked uncertainly between the ponies around her. Ivory Tower was leaning back with wide eyes. The Noblepony looked wounded and uncertain, and The Foal had quietly started to cry. “Now if you would just shut up and let me solve this riddle, we can all get out of here and... and...”

Twilight Sparkle trailed off, lost for a moment in recollection.

“See girls? We did it! We found the Elements of Harmony. Together!” Twilight Sparkle trotted up to her friends, a broad grin on her face. Spike ran alongside her, carrying the book that held the Elements in his claws, as eager as she to see Discord defeated. The other ponies in the room showed no reaction, however, ignoring Twilight Sparkle except to shoot her an annoyed glance. “You don’t even care, do you?” Twilight Sparkle asked, her tone starting to falter.

“No!” the other ponies answeredas one, turning their heads away from her and Spike.

“I never thought it would happen,” Twilight Sparkle whispered, lowering her head. “My friends...” Sharply, she brought her head up, glaring at the others. “Have turned into complete jerks!”

“No.” Twilight Sparkle stopped, the other ponies in the room looking up with surprise, as she abruptly ended her angry rant. “No, this is a trick. Discord doesn't keep us from the Elements by teleporting us away, or putting walls or monsters around them. He does it by bringing out the worst in everypony so we can’t get along, and here I am, ripping into all of you when we should be working together.”

“Your information on Discord’s behavior seems to come entirely from a recent case study that was never properly documented. Besides, we aren't friends, and you need memories of friendship to counteract his magic.” Ivory Tower raised a faint hoof in protest, but Twilight Sparkle didn’t rise to the bait. Instead of reacting to Ivory Tower with irritation, Twilight Sparkle carefully considered her for a moment, then turned her attention back to the mirror.

“I have to see what’s in front of my own eyes.” She nudged the mirror with a hoof, turning it slowly, so its reflection panned across the room. The other ponies in the room looked at her through the steel, faces distorting as the mirror slowly turned past them. The only other pony the mirror could not see was The Lunatic, who was standing directly across from Twilight Sparkle. She turned the mirror, until its edge faced her, and she could see the madpony’s face around its sides.

Twilight Sparkle considered The Lunatic for a moment. Her eyes were bloodshot, and too wide. Her features twitched in disturbing ways, and her smile was a jagged hook drawn across her face. She stared straight ahead, unblinking and unmoving, but Twilight Sparkle swallowed her disgust and fear, forcing herself to look at this pony objectively. “You’re... really creepy, and probably a little dangerous.” She resisted the urge to expound on the merits of pills and therapy. “But... you aren't actually a madpony. You try to think of ways to get us out of here. You’ve even been helpful with the riddle. You just really, really,really don’t deal with stress well. You bottle it all up inside you and...”

Twilight Sparkle’s horn came alight as she trailed off, and she levitated one of the necklaces over to The Lunatic, fixing it around her neck. The Lunatic looked down at it curiously, nudging it with a hoof, and the pink balloon that adorned its front sparkled in the light. “And you need to learn to laugh it off.”

Next, Twilight Sparkle turned to the pony she had labeled Ivory Tower, the bookworm of a unicorn trying to hide behind her tome. “You act like nobody’s plan can work, but that’s not true. Earlier, you said, ‘There’s no logical reason for me to be trapped here.’ You don’t understand what’s going on, and you’re scared. You’re going into denial so that you don’t have to deal with it.” Twilight Sparkle levitated the Element of Honesty from her neck over to the other pony, letting it come to rest against her. “You have to learn to deal with the truth, even when its unpleasant.”

Twilight Sparkle had to turn in place to face The Noblepony, and the stuffy Canterlot unicorn fixed her with an expectant stare. Twilight Sparkle bristled at that look, starting with a curt, “You’re kind of a pretentious jerk.” Her tone softened as she continued, and she forced her indignant look to relax to an accepting smile. “But you mean well. You came out into the mine to help me. You want to get us all out of here alive. You were ready to face down an armed madpony. The problem is that you see us all like extras, secondary characters in your story.” She levitated the Element of Loyalty from her neck, leaving only one necklace behind, and she placed it around The Noblepony. “You need to learn to devote yourself to others, not the abstract idea of others.”

Finally, she turned to The Foal, the whimpering pony looking up at her from the corner. “You act like you want to be helpful, but ultimately, that only makes you more selfish. You just want to help other ponies so that you can get praise and a place in the group. The problem is everypony can see what you’re doing, so all you do is annoy them.” Twilight Sparkle levitated the last element from around her neck. The Foal hurriedly took off the Element of Kindness, making room as the Element of Generosity came to rest snugly around her neck. “You need to learn to give to others for the sake of others, not just for yourself.”

Twilight Sparkle reached out with her telekinesis, taking the Element of Kindness back from The Foal. “As for this... it’s like she said.” Twilight Sparkle nodded to The Lunatic. “Numbers matter. There are six Elements, and only six living things in this mine.” She turned to look at the door. “One of which needs kindness.”

The room was silent in the wake of that statement. The Noblepony looked affronted, but in some ways, also humbled, and she sat back on her haunches. The Lunatic let out an experimental, forced laugh, tapping her Element sharply with a hoof. The Foal stopped crying, and stood up on all four hooves, trying to stand tall before Twilight Sparkle.

Ivory Tower, of all of them, looked curious, stepping forward with a quiet, “But. Um. Even if what you were saying about me was true. And I’m not saying it is.” She looked down for a moment, bashful, picking at her Element with her hooves. “But, if it was. Wouldn't you still need memories of friendship to remove Discord’s magic? Memories we don’t have.”

Twilight Sparkle paused at that question, and gradually, her head sunk. “Yeah,” she replied, almost at a whisper. “Knowing what Elements you’re all supposed to be doesn't do much good if you can’t use them.”

“It’s the last part of the riddle!” The Foal burst out, her shout so sharp and sudden that the madpony actually lept back in surprise. She was standing tall on her hooves, trying to hide the signs of past tears, a determined look rising to her face in the wake of her outburst. “It’s the last part of the riddle,” she repeated, at a more moderate volume. “Discord said you would have to beat him without help. We don’t have the memories we need, but you obviously do or you wouldn't have been able to figure all that out.”

“I can’t impart memories you don’t have,” Twilight Sparkle raised her head to object, but The Noblepony put a hoof on her shoulder.

“You can tell stories.”

“Oh, no no.” Twilight Sparkle laughed, the five mares sitting in a circle together in the little storage room. Each wore their Element, save for the Element of Kindness, which rested in the floor. She had conjured a heatless flame on the floor between them, so that The Noblepony would not have to keep her horn alight, and then she had told the stories of her and her friends. The mares had listened, and commented, and laughed, the company of others making the storage room seem not so bleak.

She had told the story of her ‘zeroth’ lesson, where she learned to deal with frustration. She had told the story of Winter Wrap-Up, and how her continual attempts to help so she could fit in almost stopped her from seeing how she could actually help the town. She had told the story of how she learned about the Pinkie Sense and to accept that which was strange to her. The stories had come in no particular order, and so it was only last that she told them about the start of it all—the day she left Canterlot to go to Ponyville.

“I was so much worse than you back then,” she assured The Noblepony, with a giggle. “When Princess Celestia told me to go to Ponyville, my reaction was to throw a pout that she didn’t trust me. Nevermind that Equestria was in mortal danger, my highest priority was to have a snit the whole chariot ride over.”

“That can’t have been where you learned loyalty.” The Noblepony jangled the Element around her neck with a hoof, the others looking in, curiously. “What about Princess Celestia?”

“I love Princess Celestia, but loyalty to a mentor or authority figure isn’t quite the same as loyalty to a friend.” Twilight Sparkle lets out a happy sigh, shutting her eyes as her mind drifted back to times gone past. “That’s why I chose to leave Canterlot, even though it meant leaving everything I knew behind. That was the first time I felt that really personal connection to another pony. I couldn't give that up.”

“Well, you certainly earned it,” The Noblepony observed, tone faintly jealous, and embarrassed at that jealousy. She folded her hooves in front of her, looking down at them. Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes, and turned to The Noblepony, a smile on her face.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I didn’t earn friendship by saving Equestria. I just met the right ponies. In a way, I got lucky.” She reached out to put a comforting hoof over The Noblepony’s. “I’m sure if we’d ever met in Canterlot, we would have been friends.”

“It’s nice to hear somepony say that,” The Noblepony answered, a bashful smile touching her features, along with a hint of an embarrassed blush. The others had much the same reaction, looking down or away. Even The Lunatic seemed touched, hiding it by repeatedly tugging her mane down over her face with her hooves.

“Actually,” Twilight Sparkle muttered, looking down at the floor as she furrowed her brow in thought, “why didn’t we ever meet? You said you went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. We must have been in the same—” Twilight Sparkle’s words died in her throat, as she looked up and found there was nopony there. She was alone in the store room, no trace of the other mares. All of the Elements of Harmony were around her own neck again, save the one on the floor, and Twilight Sparkle rose to her hooves in confusion.

“Hello?” She looked around wildly, searching the floor for where they might have gone. She wondered—had Discord teleported them away? Was this another of his tricks? Was she going crazy, and had imagined them all to begin with? Her breath came quick with surprise, her search for some trace increasingly more frantic.

Then, she heard breathing outside the door.

Inside the confined space, the sound of the door crashing against its frame sounded like a thunderclap. The latch was strong, and the wood was thick, but after only a single strike, Twilight Sparkle knew the door would not stand up to whatever was on the other side. An incoherent snarl of rage echoed through the wood, a bright purple flash visible through the cracks, moments before the door shuddered with impact. The wood of the doorframe splintered with the blow, the door itself developing a hairline crack across its midsection.

Twilight Sparkle looked around wildly for something to prop the door with, but there was nothing in the room large enough—nothing that the force outside that door couldn't crush into splinters. Another thunderclap split the room, when she finally noticed the Element of Kindness on the floor. The crack in the door was no longer hairline, but wide as the tip of a pony’s hoof. The wood buckled further inwards with every strike, every growl, every hiss of unnatural breath carrying clearly into the room. Twilight Sparkle backed away from the door, clutching the last Element to herself, wide eyes locked on the doorway before her.

“This is only one of Discord’s tricks. It can’t actually kill me,” Twilight Sparkle said to herself as a chunk of the door finally gave way, the piece of wood landing in the room before her. “This is only one of Discord’s tricks. It can’t actually kill me,” she repeated as another section of door flew inward. She could see a glimpse of the monster now, a thing wreathed in purple light, like it was on fire, but never finished burning. “This is only one of Discord’s tricks. It can’t actually kill me. I’m going to use the Element of Kindness and it’ll go away.” Her words became more desperate the more of the door broke inwards, until finally, the door flew off its hinges entirely, landing in two pieces on the floor.

It was a hideous mockery of a unicorn. Its face was unnaturally ugly, twisted into a grimace. One was wide and intense, while the other fixed her with a narrow glare. Its ears seemed perpetually folded back, contorted by rage like the rest of its features. Worst, though, was its horn. Magic was Twilight Sparkle’s life; she used it to study the world, to heal and make it better. This thing radiated all of her power, a telekinetic flame pouring forth from its horn to envelop its entire body and all around it, but it wanted to use that power only to hurt her.

Any delusions she had that this was just Discord trying to scare her vanished in that instant. The field of force around the monster picked her up like a child’s toy and brutally smashed her into the wall. White-hot pain coursed through her as she felt something break. The Element of Kindness fell to the floor as that unnatural force pinned her forehooves behind her back. Purple fire surrounded Twilight Sparkle as the creature squeezed, the pressure around her offering no escape. Panic started to overcome her as she realized that this creature was not going to give her a chance to speak, was not going to be overcome by words. It was just going to crush her, until every bone in her body broke, and she was no more.

It didn’t even seem to enjoy harming her, didn’t smile as it became harder and harder for her to breathe. There was no joy in it, only anger. That anger was going to kill her.

“No!” Twilight Sparkle’s own horn blazed with light, so brilliant that the monster had to avert its eyes, stumbling away in surprise. “This isn’t how it ends! I won’t let it!” Twilight Sparkle proclaimed, magic like she had not wielded since the day she got her cutie mark coursing through her. Her eyes burned a brilliant white, brighter than the flames around the monster, and it stumbled away. It did not, could not fear her, and so it had no sooner recovered than it leapt at her again.

“No.” Twilight Sparkle repeated, catching the creature now as easily as it had caught her a moment ago. She held it helpless before her, and with a blink of her eyes, snuffed the flames around it. “I am stronger then you, monster.” She lifted the creature up in front of her, suspending it as it had suspended her. It was helpless now, pinned and wrapped up in magic, all its snarling and hissing just so much noise and fury. All she had to do was squeeze.

She reached down to the floor and picked up the Element of Kindness, resting it over the creatures neck.

“I don’t know what happened to you, to turn you into this thing, but you aren't a monster at heart. You’re a pony, and I’m going to help you.” Her tone turned soothing, as she looked into its eyes. Once you got past how it glared with them, it had very pretty eyes: purple and expressive. She could call a creature with those eyes beautiful. “We’re going to get you better and then we’re going to beat Discord.”

“Do you understand?” Twilight Sparkle asked, reaching a hoof up to brush the creature’s face.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

Chapter 6

“Ah can’t believe what Ah’m hearin’! Somepony beats Sparkle black ’n’ blue, an’ you wanna cover it up like the whole thing never happened? Ah don’t care if she healed Sparkle or not. Yououghta be ashamed o’ yerself, RD!”

Twilight’s eyes slowly opened, her eyelids fluttering and then gradually sliding up. The world was muted and distant, like all the edges had been taken off. Around her, she could see nothing but a dull, uniform field of pastel purple. Applejack was shouting, but the words were muffled and quiet, echoing through strange spaces. She felt like she was lying on a cloud, the world around her soft and warm. The universe seemed to shift with every breath she took, like it was moving around her.

For a time, she concluded that she was dead. It seemed like the most reasonable explanation—the strain of healing Sparkle had killed her, and now her disembodied spirit was haunting Ponyville. Being a disembodied spirit did not seem so bad to Twilight—it felt warm and restful—but it troubled her that her friends were fighting. She strained to listen to what they were saying, but the words were hard to make out. She could hear muffled fighting, but individual words only came through clearly when somepony shouted, and then not always.

“Quiet, both of you! This situation is trying for all of us. Twilight and Sparkle mean a great deal to us, and tempers can run hot—but we are still civilized, and I will not have my friends come to blows like a pack of ruffians!”

Twilight wanted to reach out to Rarity and tell her that it was all okay, but the soft and supportive fog around her sapped her energy. She couldn't orient herself or tell what direction Rarity’s voice was coming from, and attempts to summon her magic left only a numb feeling. She struggled, but to no avail, and eventually gave up. Her friends, she thought, would have to go on without her. The shouting had quieted while she struggled, and she could no longer make out what was being said. She shut her eyes, and let herself drift away.

In time, she came to notice things about the strange world she had found herself inside. It was not quite like lying on a cloud. It was soft and warm, but it was also responsive to her movements. When she took a breath, it moved in time. It twitched with the beats of her heart. She felt safe and secure, but less at ease as time went on. The fact that she was breathing, which previously had not troubled her, started to seem like a serious hole in her “I’m dead” theory. Feeling was returning to her body, and when it did, she forced her head to raise, opening her eyes again.

From that haze of indistinct purple, her view swept back, and though her vision was blurry, she could see darker shades, blue, and traces of pink all running together before her. She squinted, but her vision would not clear. She leaned forward to press her muzzle to the strange mix of colors, but something was wrong. The world no longer breathed with her. Sitting up, thinking and worrying, had quickened the pace of her heart and altered the sequence of her breaths. The world moved around her, but not with her.

She had ruined it.

“Dream on! You want to tell Celestia, you can run down to Canterlot on your own four hooves. Spike would never betray Twilight!”

“I’m so sorry,” Twilight whispered to the swirling colors around her. She couldn't summon the strength to speak any louder, and so she buried her head in the fog until purple was all she could see. “It’s not fair. You have so much. Mom and Dad and Shining Armor and everypony in Ponyville. I never even got to tell Princess Celestia I love her.”

Twilight couldn't cry. Her eyes hurt, but the tears would not come any more than her body would move. She was too tired to cry. Even when she squeezed her eyes shut, she could still see purple. She thought that she must have opened them again, and was just so disoriented that she didn’t notice.

“You tried to give it to me. You did. You were so nice. But you couldn’t do it. All you could do was lend it to me, and that just made it all more yours. I wanted what you had.” She drew a ragged breath, her motions only growing more out of sync with the slow, steady colors around her.

“But I held onto it so tight that I broke it.”

“I don’t care! Spike is a little dragon who’s been through enough already, and I won’t let you bully him into sending a letter he doesn't want to send!” For a moment, a muted response could be heard, but it was cut short by a thundering, “I! Said! NO!”

“Now it will never go back together and it’s all my fault.” Twilight’s breath cracked, and for a time, she could not continue. The sound of her own quick, unsteady breaths muffled the world around her, and she pressed closer into the purple fog so she could feel what she could not hear. “I’m a selfish, jealous pony and... and the world would be better if I just...”

“If I just...” Twilight trembled. Her horn was numb, and her magic was drained, but this enchantment was complicated. It had so many interacting component spells and effects that it wouldn't take much to send them out of alignment, like a blanket unraveling from a single loose thread. She did not have the strength to make her horn light, but it sparked faintly. It would only take a moment, and even though she was weak, this power was hers.

“Oh, I know how it goes, Rainbow Dash! Everything was fine when they were with me. I threw a party, they hugged! Things didn’t go bad until they started spending more time with you. And now you’re looking all shifty and hiding things from your friends! Confess!”

“Stop.” It took Twilight a moment to realize that she hadn’t spoken, that the voice in her ears was not her own. The voice was no stronger than hers, but it came with urgency, and a trace of fear. Something hard shoved against her head, increasingly agitated as its blind and fumbling movements struck her cheek and temples. “Don’t do it.” The other voice cracked as it tried and failed to yell, while the offending object bumped into Twilight’s head hard enough to cause a flash of pain. She lost her concentration, and the spark on her horn went out.

Twilight leaned back from the impact and opened her eyes again. She could see better now. Although shapes were still blurry, the purple in front of her was now a distinct object instead of just one of many colors mixed into the world. That object lay alongside her, but tapered up towards a part with stripes of other hues. There was something pointed there, attached to the rest, that sharply jabbed her in the cheek when it leaned forward.

“Ow!” Twilight twitched, her voice a raspy squeak. Pain sent a jolt of adrenaline through her, and the haze surrounding her thoughts began to clear. She tried to lean away, but her body was uncooperative, and she barely moved. “I stopped, I stopped,” she answered as quickly as she could. The effort of such alarm winded her, and she was left breathless as she tried to recover herself. The creature next to her seemed no better off, and their breaths fell into sequence again.

As blood rushed through Twilight’s body and air through her lungs, her vision slid into focus. There were still spots in it, but she could see Sparkle now, not just a mass of purple. The two were lying against one another on the couch, somepony evidently having moved her up from the floor. Sparkle’s coat was ruffled between her forelegs, where Twilight had buried her head in against her. The effort of jabbing Twilight with her horn was exhausting for Sparkle, and her breaths were quick and deep.

“Ah said trust! Trust! Like we need ta’ trust that Princess Celestia wants what’s best for both of them too!”

“You can’t move either?” Twilight finally broke the silence.

Sparkle struggled for a moment, her hooves twitching faintly then going still. “Nope. Almost completely numb,” she answered, glancing at Twilight. “Why is it that you can’t—”

“I finished the spell for you. You’d have been unconscious clear through to tomorrow otherwise.” Twilight faintly inclined her head towards the window. Sparkle squinted into the sunlight for a moment, taking note of the time of day.

“Oh. Right,” she murmured, looking down at her hooves. “I guess that’s good.” She paused for a moment, reaching for something else to say, finally uttering a weak, “Because it would be bad if they’d been fighting over us clear through to tomorrow.”

The argument upstairs had entered a loud patch. Voices were again raised, and muffled anger clearly echoed down to the two unicorns, but so many ponies were shouting over each other that individual words could not be made out. Twilight and Sparkle both turned up their ears, straining to listen, but neither could make out more details. It was Sparkle who gave up first, folding her ears against her head and peering down at Rarity’s couch.

“Just... just now,” Sparkle murmured, unable to look at Twilight. “Were you about to...”

“No,” Twilight answered reflexively, her own gaze going over the edge of the couch, staring down in the other direction. After a moment of silence between them, she moderated her answer with a quiet, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t you go puttin’ words in my mouth, Rarity! Ah meant what Ah said.” The ceiling of the boutique’s showroom shook with the impact of Applejack’s hoof on the upstairs floor. “It’s all well and good that you two feel guilty y’all let this happen in the first place, but it weren’t you who started the brawl, an’ now yer lettin that guilt stand in the way of what you all know we need ta do!”

Twilight folded her ears back as Applejack’s shout echoed clearly around them. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to endure a long silence, but to her surprise, Sparkle spoke up almost at once.

“What was that you said earlier?” she asked, forcing her gaze to rise to Twilight’s face. “About Princess Celestia.”

“Oh... I said that I never got to tell Princess Celestia I loved her.” Twilight glanced up at Sparkle, and then back down. She rubbed her hooves together nervously, not sure what to say or do. “I’m sure she knows. How much she means to me, that is. She’s like a mother to me, but the time never felt right to say it, and if I said it now, it would just seem like I was trying to... one-up you.” Twilight started to ramble, her words coming as a single uninterrupted stream. “I didn’t want that. I didn’t have any specific plans, but, I always had the idea that one day I’d tell her and it would be special. Maybe on Mother’s Day. Just something quiet, and we’d spend time together. I wasn’t in any particular rush, but now that I can’t do it, it's sometimes all I think about and...” Twilight bit her lip, tapping the tips of her hooves together. “I’m getting some feeling back in my legs,” she observed, her tone quick and quiet.

“Oh. That’s...” Sparkle was left at a loss, her gaze going back to the couch. “I mean, she’s done a lot for me—us—but a Mother’s Day gift?” Sparkle gave a quiet, nervous laugh. “That just seems like it would be a little—I mean, what would Mom think?”

“Nothing. I’m sure it’s fine.” Twilight muttered. “Ponies give Mother’s Day gifts to mares who aren't their mothers all the time. Right?” She managed to fold her hooves, crossing and uncrossing them as she spoke. “It’s not like we replaced her or anything.”

“I don’t know how you could even say that. It’s not funny.” Sparkle let the conversation lapse for a moment, before she added, “Besides, I couldn't think of a gift.”

“It’s not like Princess Celestia really needs a gift. I’m sure she’d be happy just to hear it.” Twilight spoke without conviction, doubt seeping into her tone. “It must have hurt her to have to send us away.”

“We needed to grow up,” Sparkle mumbled. “Besides saving Equestria, that is. I’m sure we could have found friends in Canterlot, if that’s what Princess Celestia really wanted, but think of all the things we’ve learned that we couldn't have if she were still sheltering us.”

“Yes,” Twilight agreed. “She just wanted what was best for us.”

A long silence came after that, each of the ponies staring down to the couch. The argument upstairs had sunk to a lull, and was barely audible, only traces of words drifting down into the boutique's showroom. “Not that there’s anything wrong with a gift,” Twilight continued, nervous and quick. “A gift can say things. Like that I appreciate all she’s done and I understand she wants me to be independent but it’s still okay if I drop in from time to time to say hi and maybe have tea because she’s my teacher and teachers and grown students do that. For example.”

Twilight and Sparkle each looked up at each other, and for a moment their eyes met. They quickly looked back down.

“Something that uniquely symbolizes us, or friendship, or something historic,” Sparkle suggested. “Something from her past she thought was lost, that would make her happy to see again. But the only thing I could think of was...”

Both of them squeezed their eyes shut, falling silent as the same thought ran through their heads. Questions about Celestia’s age, her history, and how she saw them ran through the two unicorn’s minds, but all thoughts pointed to the same conclusion.

“We aren't even sure that she had students before us.” Sparkle dismissed the thought quickly. She lapsed into silence for a moment, but then she pressed on, “I thought about giving her you.”

“What?” Twilight’s head shot up sharply, matching Sparkle’s unsteady gaze with her own wide-eyed, confused stare.

“We... weren't getting along so well. I know that Princess Celestia misses having me at hoof, talking face to face, all the time we spent together. I thought that I could tell her I loved her, that we both loved her, and that you wanted to come home for a little while. You could make new friends in Canterlot. We’d have different lives but still see each other.” Sparkle couldn't quite hold her gaze to Twilight, and her eyes settled somewhere around Twilight’s withers.

“I thought it would be nice.” Sparkle’s tone was apologetic, even guilty. “Getting to see Mom and Dad and Princess Celestia every day, having her there to help me—you—through all this.”

Twilight didn’t say anything at first. She wasn’t sure how to feel: insulted, offended, or tempted by the prospect of that escape. She would get to go home. She wouldn't have to save the world or fight for Equestria—not until she was ready. She could be by Princess Celestia’s side again, studying whatever magic held her interest late into the night. She could make friends with the other unicorns she had so long neglected, and find out just what life in Canterlot she had denied herself by being a shut-in. When she was done, she could go back to her library, and everything within.

“Who would take Spike?” she asked abruptly. Sparkle couldn’t find the words to answer her, and instead just buried her gaze, her ears folding tightly. Twilight looked at her for a moment, but the awkward silence was too much to bear. Soon, she too turned away.

“I might still have to go back, when Princess Celestia finds out.” Twilight tried to force the conversation forward. She focused on happy memories from Canterlot, things from her foalhood and her brother’s wedding. “I would be getting off lucky, if all she did was keep me in Canterlot for as long as I have left.”

“For as long as you have left?” Sparkle asked, puzzled, her eyes returning to Twilight’s face.

Twilight looked disbelieving for moment, and then her eyes narrowed, matching Sparkle’s gaze. “Don’t play stupid,” she snapped back, sharp and bitter, but Sparkle’s expression only grew more confused. “There’s no historical evidence of there being two Starswirl the Beardeds, and he tried to cover up what would have been the single greatest magical discovery in pony history. The spell doesn't last. The copies it creates vanish.” Twilight held her angry gaze, unflinching in the face of Sparkle’s increasing shock. “He tried to hide it because he knew ponies would use it anyway.”

“Oh, oh no. Is that what you thought?” Sparkle let out a breath, eyes wide. “You don’t know that. There are other possible explanations. Maybe Starswirl and his copy got into a fight like we did, but one of them was killed. Maybe they were ashamed and pretended to be each other. Maybe our ability to combine magic is the reason Starswirl was such a powerful wizard. Even if you are right, we can fix this. We can save you. Why would you think...” Sparkle watched as Twilight’s angry glare faltered, and she leaned in against her counterpart’s mane. “Why didn’t you tell anypony you thought you were dying?”

“I did,” Twilight snapped, but her anger was already faltering, and it was a moment before she could continue. “I—I told Rainbow Dash,” Twilight let her head slump against Sparkle’s, what strength she had leaving her. Her voice cracked and dropped to a whisper as she struggled to find words. “Now my friends are fighting.”

“And you know so much, huh, Applejack? Maybe Twilight needs help instead of a punishment. Did you think of that? Maybe going a little crazy is a perfectly normal reaction to what she’s going through. Maybe this is our fault and you’re just too stubborn to admit it!”

At first, Sparkle said nothing. Twilight was leaning on her, and her own body felt weak. It was easy for her to let the weight carry her down to the soft cushions, to surrender to the pressure that was upon her and sink down with Twilight. She didn’t know what to say or what to do, so she said and did nothing. Adrenaline had faded, and her alertness was fading with it. Over the minutes, her eyelids grew heavy, and she thought that she could rest. When she got up, she thought, she would know what to do.

“It’s all my fault,” Twilight whimpered, so quiet she would be inaudible if her muzzle were not against Sparkle’s ear. Her words were slurred, her own eyes heavy as well, as the strain of the spell threatened to pull her from the waking world.

“No.” Sparkle’s eyes shot open, and she raised her head sharply. The motion forced Twilight’s head up as well, and she pulled back with surprise. “No, no it isn’t your fault. Both of us did nothing. I tried to pretend everything was fine as things got worse and worse. But I’m not going to just lie here while you tear yourself apart and my friends fight each other!” Sparkle struggled to rise, managing to get a hoof out from under herself, her body shaking with the effort as she tried to stand. Twilight was on the outside of the divan, and so she leaned away as Sparkle moved, face frozen with uncertainty.

“Applejack!” Sparkle tried to call up to the others, but she couldn't find the strength to shout, and only winded herself. Her weak attempt to rise shoved her sharply off balance and into Twilight’s side, and both of them went tumbling off the couch to the floor. Lacking the strength to catch herself, Twilight landed on her side, Sparkle roughly landing on top of her.

“What are you doing?” Twilight demanded, struggling to right herself. Sparkle’s weight came down very nearly directly on top of her, and their attempts to extricate themselves only left them more entangled. Somehow, in their struggle, they ended up turned around—Sparkle’s sides pinning Twilight’s head to the floor. A sharp growl of, “Get your fat flank off me,” made Sparkle blush, but she didn’t slow her efforts.

“I’m fixing it! Help me get the others down here,” Sparkle ordered, managing to right herself, Twilight sitting up next to her. As Sparkle struggled to stand, Twilight took note of the decorations in the room, her eyes drawn to a vase resting on an end table. She shut her eyes, and her horn faintly sparked. She magic was so weak, she struggled to summon even the faintest force. The table rocked and swayed, and finally fell over with a crash, the vase atop it shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor.

“Wow,” Sparkle muttered, momentarily taken aback. “That was... I mean, I always hated that vase.”

Twilight gave her an embarrassed, uncertain smile. “Yeah. Me too,” she answered, turning her gaze to the hardwood floor.

From upstairs came the sound of pounding hooves and beating wings. Rainbow Dash was the first to make it downstairs, shooting into the boutique's main room with an alarmed shout of, “Twilight? You okay?” Applejack was not far behind her, then Rarity and Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie was last down the stairs, her expression grim and her straight-combed mane cast into a shadow that seemed to have no source. The sight of the two ponies collapsed on the floor gave most of them pause, but Fluttershy rushed to their sides without hesitation.

“Oh, no, you two should be in bed.” She tried to help them up as Rainbow Dash looked between them uncertainly. Applejack’s expression was no more certain than Rainbow Dash’s, and she peered at the two of them closely.

“Don’t worry, everypony. I know what I’m doing!” Sparkle strained herself hoarse trying to raise her voice, and for a moment, she struggled on the floor before ultimately falling over onto her side. An embarrassed silence came over the room, until Sparkle finally grumbled, “Fluttershy, could you help me up and lift my hoof so I’m dramatically pointing?”

Fluttershy hesitated, but finally reached down to wrap her hooves around Sparkle, her beating wings lifting the unicorn off the floor until her hooves barely touched. She reached a hoof under Sparkle, raising her left foreleg straight. Sparkle gave an awkward little cough. “No, pointing at Rainbow Dash.” Fluttershy adjusted her aim. “Right. Thank you.” Sparkle drew a breath.

“Don’t worry, everypony. I know what I’m doing! Rainbow Dash, your heart’s in the right place, but I trust Princess Celestia implicitly. Loyalty to a friend means doing what’s best for them, even if it gets them in trouble. Applejack, you’re—” Sparkle cleared her throat loudly, Fluttershy turning her hoof to point at the orange earth pony. “Applejack, you’re doing the right thing, but your stubbornness is only hurting Rainbow Dash. You know she’s a good pony and she’s obviously in pain; be more understanding of why she’s doing what she’s doing. Pinkie Pie—” Fluttershy shifted Sparkle’s hoof again. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s freaking me out. Stop that.”

A loud squeak carried through the boutique as Pinkie Pie’s hair suddenly regained its curl, light returning to her. “Oh boy, a big monologue scene!” She clapped her hooves together. “Does this mean that everything is going to be better from now on?”

“No.” Twilight answered from the floor, strength flowing into her tone. Pinkie Pie froze in the middle of her exuberant clapping, her face falling into confusion. “At least, not right away. But I was wrong, Rainbow Dash. Things can be better again.” A blush rose to Twilight’s face as she spoke, but she pressed on through it. “We’re the Bearers of the Elements. We can overcome anything.” She hesitated for a moment, and added with a more somber note, “Or try, anyway. Better that than sitting around feeling helpless.”

“Well, that’s... good, dears.” Rarity’s mane was frazzled, her eyes tired and strained. Fluttershy lowered Sparkle to the floor, while Rarity took a moment to compose herself, searching for the right words. “Were you two able to work things out between yourselves?”

Twilight and Sparkle shared a glance, and Twilight shook her head. “I assaulted another pony, Rarity. Even if I was all better, I’d have to answer for that. I might have to go away for a while, to Canterlot, until—”

“I’m going with you!” Rainbow Dash burst out, trotting across the room to Twilight’s side. Applejack narrowed her eyes faintly, and Fluttershy bit her lip in hesitation. Twilight just looked surprised, turning up to the pegasus beside her.

Twilight gave Rainbow Dash a hesitant look, shaking her head. “If the Princess calls me away, Rainbow Dash, it’s because I’m being punished. I don’t think she’ll want—”

“Was I asking her permission?” Rainbow Dash demanded, poking Twilight in the chest. “You’re my friend! I’m not going to let you run off alone. What’s Celestia going to do about it, huh?”

“Well, she’s the Princess. She could throw you in the dungeon,” Twilight pointed out, a faint smile tugging at the edges of her mouth.

“Besides that!” Rainbow Dash threw up her forehooves, the beat of her wings keeping her from tumbling forward.

“Oh oh, me too, me too!” Pinkie Pie bounced across the room, landing on Twilight’s other side. “Because at first, things were all—” Pinkie bounced up and down by Twilight’s side, flipping all the way over before she landed again. “But then suddenly, they got all—” She bared her teeth and growled. “And then they got all—” Abruptly, her hair lost its curl, falling dark and straight around her shoulders as her eyes watered. With a loud squeak, her hair abruptly curled again. “And without friends to keep everything happy, who knows where they could end up next?”

“Ah can’t believe...” Applejack gritted her teeth. She shared a glance with Fluttershy, and after a moment, trotted up to Sparkle’s side. Rarity glanced between the two groups, and quickly spoke before Applejack could say anything more.

“Well then, dears. Shall I take a letter to the princess? No point in speculating until we know how she’ll rule on the matter.” Rarity’s horn shone with a faint blue light, a sheet of paper, quill and inkpot floating towards her from across the room. “How is it that you always begin these things?”

Sparkle opened her mouth to speak, but shut it without a word. Only a few feet away from her, Twilight mirrored the action, and the two shared a glance. “You should,” Sparkle nodded to Twilight, and they both turned back to face Rarity.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” Twilight began. It took her a moment to get more than that, as she struggled to speak, but she finally forced the words out. “It shames me to have to write to you now, to confess that I have committed a violent crime. Particularly, I assaulted my counterpart, Sparkle, and...” Twilight trailed off, feeling the pressure as everypony in the room stared at her expectantly. “And she’s fine. But I need your help. Please come soon.”

“Your faithful student, Twilight.”

Chapter 7

The sun had grown bright after Spike sent his message. The bearers of the elements had clustered together in the library, expecting Celestia to appear in a flash of light as she had before. Rainbow Dash had her hooves wrapped tightly around Twilight, determined that Celestia would not whisk her away alone. Spike sat close between Twilight and Sparkle as they held him in turn. All the other ponies had clustered nearby, looking to the window, and waiting for the ruler of Equestria to appear. Instead of Celestia though, they were greeted only by the brightening day around them. At first, the sun’s rays were soothing—Twilight and Sparkle felt strength return to their bodies, and the other ponies relaxed as well. But soon the beam it cast into the library became impossible to look upon. The ponies shut their eyes in shock, but the light shone through their eyelids, and all they saw was a blinding white.

When that light faded, and their vision returned, Twilight and Sparkle found themselves somewhere else. The wood of the library was gone, replaced with white marble and gold, and before them was a vast window. Though it, they could see the whole of the world laid out before them—a bird’s-eye view, like a map brought to life. It took them each a moment to situate themselves, but they knew this room. As one, they realized who else was within it. Slowly, they turned.

Celestia’s coat matched the white marble of Canterlot as perfectly as her finery matched its golden fittings. She sat back in her throne with her forehooves on the ground, her wings outstretched and her eyes faintly narrowed. She could easily have been mistaken for one of the statues of her that adorned the city, her pose the perfect image of stern yet regal authority. Only her mane spoiled the effect, slowly rippling in the solar wind. It was the only part of her that moved; her body still, her gaze unyielding.

After a moment’s hesitation, Twilight and Sparkle both prostrated themselves on the floor as they did during Celestia’s formal visits to Ponyville. Unlike those past cases, however, Celestia neither permitted them to rise nor interrupted the formality with a casual greeting. There were no servants, no guards, but she allowed the silence to drag on, watching as the two unicorns before her tried to push themselves harder against the ground with each passing moment.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia’s voice rang out loud and clear in the resonant space, the echo against the round window coming from all directions at once. Twilight and Sparkle raised their heads faintly, and each looked at the other uncertainty. Celestia’s hoof struck the stone sharply, and a clap rang out. Their heads went back to the floor at once.

“When we first met, you were a filly with a very special gift, but you needed to learn to tame your abilities. Here, through focused study, you learned how to direct your powers, but I sent you away because there was something else you needed that you could only learn on your own.” Celestia tapped the floor twice and motioned with a hoof, signaling Twilight and Sparkle to rise. “Emotional maturity.”

“In Ponyville, you became the Bearer of one of the Elements of Harmony and learned about the magic of friendship, and although you did have a few setbacks, I was confident in you and proud of your progress. I knew these events would place a great strain on you, but I allowed you to face them on your own because I believed you would emerge stronger for the experience. Now, your powers have brought chaos and suffering into the lives of you and your friends.” Twilight and Sparkle each rose, eyes locked on the Princess, ears alert as they hung on her every word. “I cannot allow a pony with such potential for doing harm to go free in this condition. You are confined to Canterlot Castle until such time as I decide you are fit for release.”

Silence hung in the air in the wake of the Princess's declaration. Sparkle’s head sunk until her gaze was on the floor, and she shut her eyes. She opened her mouth to accept the Princess’s judgement, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Twilight’s gaze remained locked on the Princess even as her eyes started to water. She didn’t make a sound and forced herself to hold back the tears, standing proud in front of her teacher and mentor even as her breath shook. They spoke at once—one voice resigned, one voice trembling. “I understand, Princess.”

Princess Celestia sighed and rose from her throne. Her great stature let her cross the distance to Twilight and Sparkle in two quick steps, and with a wide sweeping motion, she wrapped her right foreleg around each of them, hugging them against her. Each of them let out a squeak of surprise, as Princess Celestia lowered herself to her knees between them. She leaned her head down, nuzzling each of them along the neck. For a moment, they hesitated, but only for a moment, and soon Twilight and Sparkle both leaned against Celestia like they were foals again. Her wide-spread wings reached forward, wrapping around them, and inside those confines she spoke with a warm whisper.

“I watched you grow up from a foal into a brave, kind, and capable mare. I will always be proud of you for that. If you were any other pony I would say you didn’t need my tutelage any longer, but you are not any other pony, Twilight Sparkle.” Princess Celestia nudged each of the ponies before her with one of her wings, tilting their gazes up so they looked at each other. They started to avert their gazes, each looking to the ground and aside, but Princess Celestia caught them before they could. “Do not look away,” she ordered, and slowly, the two unicorns came to stare into each other’s eyes.

“This is what your gift is, Twilight Sparkle—the impossible, the unnatural, the wondrous and terrible. Other ponies will never need the strength to face their own self so brutally presented to them, or to withstand a hundred other challenges that you must overcome. But you must overcome them, Twilight Sparkle. Your powers will bring these challenges before you, and if you do not rise to the occasion, those same powers will harm everypony around you. You are the bearer of the sixth element. The future of Equestria depends on you.” Princess Celestia spoke firmly, but her eyes were not narrowed. Her voice was softer, and she paused for a moment to smile. “I can think of nopony better. You have encountered some difficulties, yes, but that is what you have a teacher for.”

Outside, a cloud passed in front of the sun, casting the library into shadow. Celestia’s wings formed a shield around the two unicorns, and within those confines, it grew dark. Inside that temple were held two strange and dark pools of purple. Each of the unicorns gazed deep into the other’s eyes. They felt entranced, possessed, paralyzed, unsure if they didn’t want to look away or actually couldn't look away. It was like staring into the space in the night sky between the stars, a distance that seemed infinite and reachable all at once. The shadows around them denied perspective, making the pools of purple and shadow seem vast, and Celestia’s wings a cavernous arch. Sparkle reached up to hold Twilight’s face with a hoof, unable to hear a thing save her own breath.

Then, the cloud moved aside, and Celestia folded her wings back against herself. Brilliant yellow light drove back the shadows, and Sparkle found herself holding Twilight’s face, each of them confused. She wiped away Twilight’s tears, making the motion seem intentional, before putting her hoof back to the floor. Twilight mumbled a word of thanks, reaching up to rub at her eyes as she struggled for words and failed to find them.

“Is this a test, Princess?” Sparkle asked, breaking the long silence.

Princess Celestia smiled at her, leaning over to nudge an ear with her muzzle—a faint, affectionate gesture. “Life is a test, Twilight Sparkle, but if you’re asking if I intentionally allowed these events to happen, no. I knew this would be difficult for you, but what happened caught me by surprise as much as it did your friends.” As Princess Celestia spoke, the panes of the great window began to rattle, gradually moving from a faint buzzing to shaking violently in their frames. A bright speck of light became visible in the distance, and Princess Celestia sighed. “Speaking of...”

Rainbow Dash first became visible as a distant blue point, but when her course pulled up and away, her rainbow trail revealed itself in all its splendor. Behind her, a sudden wind ripped through the streets of Canterlot. It threw open windows and flipped smaller carts, sending unprepared pegasi into sudden spins. The vortex in her wake ripped up loose bits of paper, unsecured hats, and anything else it touched, forming a cloud of debris behind her. She circled Canterlot Castle like a swarming insect, looking in window after window, calling Twilight’s name.

When she finally reached the great picture window that looked in on her quarry, she threw open her wings and came to an abrupt stop. The torrent of air behind her rushed forward with enough force to smash the window glass in its frames. A great pressure wave sucked the air out of the solarium, pulling the broken glass with it and sending the shards down into the waterfall at the city’s edge. Twilight’s and Sparkle’s manes whipped around them in the gale, but Rainbow Dash just gritted her teeth, adeptly dodging the broken glass and fighting the current to land inside.

“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash called out, taking a step forward towards Twilight and Sparkle and hesitating. She didn’t even seem to notice Celestia or her increasingly unamused expression, as she looked back and forth between the pair of unicorns. “Um... no offense, Sparkle, because you’re totally my friend too, but could you...” Sparkle raised a hoof, pointing to Twilight. “Thank you. Twilight!” Rainbow Dash leapt forward to her friend, throwing a protective hoof over her shoulder. “Are you okay?” Without waiting for a response, she turned, glaring up at Princess Celestia. “What’s the big idea, pulling Twilight away from her friends to throw her in some scary dungeon just when we all pulled together to help her?”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight cut in before Princess Celestia could answer. “Princess Celestia just teleported me... er, us here so we could talk privately. She’s making us stay in Canterlot Castle until we sort through all this. It’s okay. We’re fine.” Twilight couldn't help but blush faintly as Rainbow Dash stood over her protectively, the pegasus’s hoof resting over Celestia’s. Twilight’s tone wasn’t even upset, a sharp contrast to Sparkle’s and Celestia’s angry, long-suffering expressions.

“Oh.” Rainbow Dash hesitated, awkwardly shifting her weight between the three hooves still on the ground. “So she’s not going to cut your horn off, banish you, throw you into a dungeon, or turn you to stone and put you in the Canterlot gardens?”

“Cut her horn off?” Princess Celestia exclaimed. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. “Where do you get these ideas?”

“I dunno, we just all thought it seemed like something you’d do.” As Rainbow Dash answered, reaching a hoof up to rub the back of her head, her gaze sliding down to the floor. Sparkle’s face slowly sunk into her hooves and Twilight tried and failed to suppress a giggle.

Slowly, Princess Celestia rose back to her hooves. She looked among the three of them, shutting her eyes before drawing a long breath and letting it out. When her eyes opened again, her normal, serene smile had returned, and she reached out to give Rainbow Dash a gentle pat on the shoulder. “No, Rainbow Dash, I do not think that mutilation, banishment or imprisonment are called for in this instance. Further, while Twilight Sparkle is a striking young mare and would make a fine addition to any sculpture collection, the artistic world will have to go without for at least one more day.” Her tone was faintly playful, and Rainbow Dash pulled her wings tight against her body, mumbling something inaudible as her gaze went to the floor.

“She is to remain in Canterlot Castle until such time as I decide she is fit to be released. This makes her stay in Canterlot very similar to your own, which will persist until a justice decides you have performed community service sufficient for what I presume to be several dozen broken windows.” Rainbow Dash gave a loud groan but did not protest Celestia’s ruling, faintly mumbling her consent. “Your loyalty is commendable, Rainbow Dash, and I suspect you have already done my faithful student more good than you know, but you too must learn control.”

Celestia look a half-turn from the three, gesturing towards the door and signaling for them to rise with faint twitch of her hoof. Rainbow Dash disentangled herself from Twilight at that implied command. Sparkle looked up more alertly as the Princess spoke. “I trust you remember where your room is, Twilight Sparkle. You’ll find it much as you left it. Rainbow Dash, you may go with her. I will have a justice speak with you soon.”

Sparkle nodded at the Princess’s words and murmured her thanks, moving towards the door as a pony dismissed. Twilight and Rainbow Dash took a moment longer to respond, but they did the same, the three side by side as they moved towards the solarium’s exit. It was only when they were at the door that Rainbow Dash paused, putting a hoof up on the doorframe and looking back at Princess Celestia.

“Princess,” she asked, tone hesitant, “is there some reason you keep referring to them both as Twilight Sparkle? Like they were still one pony, I mean.” She paused. “Do you... know something we don’t?”

“Many things, Rainbow Dash.” Princess Celestia answered, weary. “You may go.”

“Oh man, this was your room? This is bigger than my entire house!” Rainbow Dash spread her wings as she entered the tower that had once been Sparkle’s. A sharp flap lifted her into the air, and she eagerly zipped from point to point, taking in the space around them.

Like many rooms of Canterlot Castle, it was built primarily of white stone, glass, and fittings of silver and gold. The room perpetually shone in even the faintest of sunlight, dominated by a four-story window against the north wall. The window faced Canterlot instead of looking off the cliffs, making the city seem like a model and the ponies within it ants. The center of the room was an open space with a high vaulted ceiling, each side of the room containing a lounge on the ground level and a series of sprawling lofts above. There were lofts made of a darker stone, filled with bookshelves and study tables, as well as lounges filled with ferns and couches. Doors at every level connected the space to outside balconies, flanked by sloping pillars or regal busts of unicorns. It clearly took up the whole of the tower they were inside, but Rainbow Dash still checked every door like she couldn't believe it.

“You had your own tower? You had your own observatory? Isn’t the Royal Observatory like, next door?” Rainbow Dash spiraled back down from the highest ceiling to where Twilight and Sparkle stood just inside the door. She hovered in front of them with her forehooves crossed, each of them smiling and blushing faintly. “Dude. Dude.”

“I did tell you I lived in the palace,” Twilight managed, pawing at the ground with a hoof, her gaze around Rainbow Dash’s ankles. Sparkle turned at the sound of a hoof on stone, her blush fading as she looked to Twilight. Her expression grew puzzled, then curious, as she watched her reflection.

“Uh, yeah! The servant who sleeps under the stairs and warms up Celestia’s slippers in the morning lives in the palace. This is like, having a wing of the palace named after you! It’s not the same thing.” Rainbow Dash firmly poked Twilight’s chest with a hoof. “And don’t get me started on your ‘punishment.’ I bust in here, breaking the Ponyville-to-Canterlot speed record, all awesome and ready to fight for my friends, and it turns out I’m fighting to save you from your super awesome house. You made me look totally lame.”

Twilight’s blush deepened, and she stole a glance at Rainbow Dash, still unable to meet her gaze directly. A dozen teasing or joking replies came to mind, but she couldn’t make herself utter a single one, her throat paralyzed as Rainbow Dash hovered before her. Sparkle’s expression only grew more intent as she watched Twilight’s actions, both Twilight and Rainbow Dash oblivious to her inquiring gaze.

“You know that Rarity’s going to faint when she sees this, right?” Rainbow Dash filled the silence.

Twilight took the change of subject as a moment to look up at her friend. “Rarity is coming?” she asked, her ears perking up. “Is everypony coming to Canterlot too?”

“Duh!” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “For such a smart pony, you’re kind of stupid sometimes, Twilight. We weren't going to leave you all alone. I just got here first because, well—” she smiled, pressing a hoof to her own chest “—you know.”

“I know,” Twilight agreed, with a faint smile of her own. “I guess I should make up some space then. I’m sure Princess Celestia won’t mind if everypony stays in the palace while you’re here.”

“You go ahead,” Sparkle urged her. “I should check when the next train from Ponyville is coming in so Rainbow Dash can collect everypony else. Don’t forget to make up a space for Spike. We had his old things sent to Ponyville, remember.”

“Right.” Twilight turned to trot up the wide, sloping ramp that ran through the inside of the tower, connecting the ground floor to the higher lofts. Sparkle and Rainbow Dash watched her go, the pegasus pony landing and folding her wings.

After Twilight was away and upstairs, Rainbow Dash turned to Sparkle and spoke. “You go ahead. I’m going to stay here with Twilight. I don’t think it’s a good time for her to be alone.”

Sparkle nodded in return, giving a faint smile. “Sometimes, Rainbow Dash, I think you’re a lot smarter than I usually give you credit for. Thank you.”

“Darn right,” Rainbow Dash agreed, with a confident grin. Sparkle turned back to the door, moving outside to the palace grounds to find a servant who could run to the train station. Rainbow Dash watched her go for a moment but then paused, her grin fading as she called out the door. “Wait, hold on, how much credit do you usually give me? Tons, right?”

“Sparkle?” She stuck her head out the door, shouting out into the night. “It’s lots, right? Sparkle? C’mon, this isn’t funny!”

“This should be enough for everypony.” Pink Collar levitated the pile of blankets beside her up to the tower’s highest loft, placing it next to the two that were already there. The off-white unicorn servant blended in well as she efficiently went about preparing the tower for guests. Her coat and mane matched the stone, and even her cutie mark was the iconic outline of Canterlot Castle. “I’m having some extra beds brought up now, and a partition wall to give some privacy. If it suits you, my lady, I thought I’d have them put in the observatory loft if you were not planning on any stargazing.”

Twilight had always thought of herself as young, and even if she knew that was objectively true, it was mildly unsettling to realize that the last time she had seen this pony, Pink Collar was a blank-flank foal following her mother on her daily rounds. She had obviously followed in her mother’s hoof-steps with pride, eager to please the Princess’s protege. Abstractly, Twilight knew that she must have worked hard to be given such an assignment over the older servants, but practically, she knew little of what went on in the palace’s side-corridors.

“That will be fine, thank you,” Twilight answered politely. She glanced up to the ceiling, where Rainbow Dash lounged on top of one of the support beams. The pegasus’s enchantment with Twilight’s quarters had faded quickly when she realized it was mostly a library, and worse, a library with no Daring Do novels. Lacking other entertainment, she had taken roost in the ceiling rafters, letting her gaze down upon the rest of the space from on high.

“Um...” Twilight gave the maid a nervous smile. “Is there actually a pony who warms Princess Celestia’s slippers in the morning?”

“There are several ponies who care for Princess Celestia’s room and personal effects,” Pink Collar answered, raising an eyebrow and smiling at the sudden change in topic. “I would imagine that warming her slippers is amongst their responsibilities. Would my lady want warm slippers for herself and her friends in the mornings?”

“Oh, no, thank you.” Twilight waved off the request, mildly embarrassed at the idea. She could hear Rainbow Dash snickering above her. “I was just curious.”

“Very good, my lady,” Pink Collar spoke quickly and efficiently. “Would you like me to inform the Captain and your esteemed parents of your presence in the city?”

“Ah... no, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Twilight tapped the floor with a hoof, realizing how she had grown used to living in a town where nopony knew or cared who all your relatives were or how respectable your pedigree was.

“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash interjected from above. She rolled over from her reclining position on the ceiling beam so that she was looking down at Twilight, her gaze meeting the unicorn’s upward stare. For a few long seconds, the two of them said nothing, until Rainbow Dash again felt compelled to speak. “You know they’ll find out you’re here soon enough anyway.”

“Everypony in the palace is happy to hear of your return, my lady,” Pink Collar said, never deviating from her friendly and welcoming tone. “However, the circumstances of that return are subject to some degree of rumor and baseless speculation. Ms. Dash is correct that your esteemed parents will likely hear that you are back shortly, even if you do not tell them. The Captain almost certainly already knows.”

“Oh, right. Rumor.” Twilight frowned, shaking her head. “I guess we did make a bit of an entrance. How bad is it?”

“I am sure your esteemed parents will find more amusement than scandal in the suggestion that Ms. Dash attacked Canterlot Castle to fight Princess Celestia for your love.” Pink Collar tried to conceal her grin, and almost succeeded. “However, it still might be better if they heard it from you first, my lady.”

Twilight blushed as Rainbow Dash snickered. “Have the actual circumstances been made clear to you?” Twilight asked, shaking her head as though to work the blush away.

“Yes, my lady. Princess Celestia informed the staff as well as the palace guards of your sister some weeks ago, so as to prevent a changeling scare if both of you were to enter the city at once. I’m quite eager to meet her!” Pink Collar chirped, tone upbeat. She gave a faint, chagrined look as she added, “Though I admit, I’m uncertain how to tell the two of you apart.”

“Oh... yeah.” Twilight reached a hoof up to rub at her ear. “I’m Twilight. I used to leave a pen behind my ear so people could tell us apart, but I guess it got left in Ponyville. Could you find a quill or something?”

“Of course, my lady. Will you be wanting anything else?” Pink Collar asked with a practiced formality.

“No, nothing. Just...” Twilight trailed off for a moment. “You said you were eager to meet her?”

“Oh, I know meeting her won’t be any different from meeting you, my lady, but the whole idea is just fascinating. Your life seems to be a wondrous adventure.” Pink Collar spoke with a warm tone, open and flattering. Above her, Rainbow Dash giggled, while Twilight just nodded.

“I suppose it is.” Twilight murmured. “I’ve changed my mind. Please tell my brother and parents each that I am here and wish to see them. That will be all.”

“Of course, my lady.” Pink Collar curtsied, one foreleg folding under her as she bowed her head. She turned and trotted away, her hoofbeats echoing in the stone tower until the servants’ door shut behind her.

Rainbow Dash tilted an ear up alertly, waiting until the last sounds of Pink Collar’s hoofsteps had faded. Once she was sure the servant was gone, she looked down at Twilight with a wide grin. “Oh, what wondrous news, my lady.” She spoke with an artificially high voice, laced with an airy and transparently fake Canterlot accent. “By Celestia’s grace, my odds of scoring with youhave just doubled!”

“What?” Twilight looked back up to the rafters. “What are you talking about?”

“C’mon Twilight!” Rainbow Dash spread her wings, leaping down from the rafters to float to a gentle landing beside Twilight. “She’s totally crushing on you, or has my lady grown a title of nobility since Ms. Dash last checked?”

“I’m Princess Celestia’s faithful student, and my brother is technically a prince now. That’s like being nobility,” Twilight insisted with a shake of her head. “That’s just how the servants here talk.”

“Do they also all talk about how eager they are to meet you and hear about your wondrous adventures?” Rainbow Dash giggled, her laughter only growing stronger as Twilight blushed and scraped at the floor with a hoof.

“Yes! I mean, they’re servants. They’re kind of supposed to kiss your flank a little.” Twilight regretted her choice of words the moment she said them, her blush growing hotter as Rainbow Dash laughed harder. “I meant they use obsequious language!”

It took a moment for Rainbow Dash’s laughter to die down, and when she did speak, she could only manage a forced, “Sure, Twilight. I believe you.” She spread her wings, lifting herself to the top of one of Twilight’s bookshelves. “Must have been pretty nice, growing up in a palace full of adoring ponies who waited on you horn and hoof.”

“Oh, not really. I spent most of my time studying or with Princess Celestia, and she didn’t let the palace staff dote on me too much. The only reason they’re here now is because there are guests coming and Spike isn’t here.” Twilight delivered her explanation in neat, clean tones, happy for the turn away from Rainbow Dash’s teasing. It only left her more puzzled when Rainbow Dash’s grin widened.

“So, you didn’t really have servants growing up,” Rainbow Dash said, suppressing her giggle for the sake of a proper setup. “You were just like any other pony.”

“That’s... what I just said, yes.” Twilight’s tone grew hesitant as she sensed the trap, even if she couldn’t yet see it. “I mean, they were around, but that was just because of where I lived.”

“You had a humble upbringing. Working hard at school, trying to prove yourself against all those other gifted unicorns.” Rainbow Dash was almost on hooftip, hopping up and down faintly on top of the bookshelf.

“As a matter of fact, yes!” Twilight indignantly stomped a hoof, her frown only making Rainbow Dash titter.

“Not that you would have needed servants anyway,” Rainbow Dash pointed out, making a wide, conciliatory gesture with one hoof. “Since you have Spike.”

“Exactly! Now stop playing games and—” Too late, Twilight caught herself. Rainbow Dash burst out laughing as hot crimson rose into Twilight’s cheeks. “Stop it, Rainbow Dash! You know that Spike is like a brother to me.”

“A brother who organizes your stuff, cleans up after you, does your errands, takes notes, and delivers your mail.” Rainbow Dash pressed with a light and playful tone. “If that’s what having a little brother is like, I want one, because that sounds a lot like a—”

“Spike is not a servant!” The hot anger in Twilight’s tone took Rainbow Dash off guard, her smile vanishing instantly as she quickly stepped away from Twilight. “He’s my assistant and—and family! He’s my assistant because he learns a lot and—”

“Whoa, whoa! Twilight! I know!” Rainbow Dash assured Twilight, her wings flaring out as she raised a hoof in what she hoped was a calming gesture. “I know how much Spike means to you. You were just embarrassed and I was teasing. I’m sorry.” Twilight didn’t answer, her eyes still narrowed and her breath quick. “I’m sorry, Twilight.”

A hiss of breath escaped Twilight’s muzzle as she held her gaze on Rainbow Dash, but after a moment, she calmed. Her body untensed, the unicorn shutting her eyes for a moment. Rainbow Dash gave a smile that was painfully fake, nervous and rigid, but Twilight didn’t see it anyway.

“Sorry.” Rainbow Dash repeated herself, gently hopping down from the shelf to Twilight’s side. “I guess now isn’t a good time to be teasing.”

“No.” Twilight sighed. “No, it’s fine, Rainbow Dash. I overreacted.” She hung her head faintly. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

After a moment, Rainbow Dash reached out to put a hoof around Twilight’s shoulders, holding her close. “It’s okay, Twilight,” she murmured. “I understand.”

The Canterlot Sculpture Gardens unnerved Sparkle. She didn’t question the necessity—learning the truth about them in the wake of Discord’s attack had been shocking, but she knew Celestia’s reasons were sound. The entire area instinctively bothered her, and the sight of oblivious foals and families walking down the paths only added to the subtle but persistent feeling of wrongness. Today though, she felt like she belonged here, and her winding path across the palace grounds had brought her around to the garden side.

There were many statues in the garden worth contemplating. She even briefly considered reanimating one of the ponies to ask their advice, like Celestia would when they were needed. Such thoughts made no action however, and in the end, her hooves guided her to one particular statute: a draconequus frozen in an expression of fright, arms reached out, mouth agape, eyes wide.

Sparkle considered the statue for what seemed to her to be a long time, though she could not say precisely how long. The only measure of time was the groups of ponies passing her, locals or tourists. Most passed her without a second thought. Some stopped, read the plaque at the base of the statue, and tried to make conversation until her silence drove them away. One particularly astute foal recognized her cutie mark, dragging his parents over to her side. She said as much as civility required, and eventually they gave up, leading the disappointed child away.

At some point, Sparkle realized she was alone. The sun’s yellow glow had started to turn faintly orange, its rays coming from almost directly behind her. The park was nearly empty, only a few guards and stragglers remaining. She hadn’t noticed the park emptying, nor the passage of time, and she wondered if she had fallen asleep or simply spent the hours in a daze. Ultimately, she supposed, it didn’t matter.

With a sharp grunt of effort, she twisted in place so her tail faced the statue. Her horn came alight, magic flowing across her body in purple rivers down to her rear hooves. She delivered three sharp kicks to the base of the statue, a flash of purple visible with every crack of impact. A surge of pain flashed through her at the first kick, when she drove her hoof into solid stone, but she finished the pattern, turning back to face the statue.

“Oh my, Sparkle. What would Celestia say if she knew?” A voice that only Sparkle could hear gave a disapproving tsk, and to her attentive eyes, a ghostly apparition seemed to slide out of the statue. Discord’s body remained frozen in a posture of terror, but the image of the spirit she had just liberated from the rock quickly assumed a level, amused expression. He floated next to his petrified form, legs crossed under him, waggling a claw at the pony before him. “These things are a slippery slope you know. First you’re calling spirits, then you start dressing in black, and soon you’re summoning something with too many tentacles and not enough vowels in its name.”

“What did you do to me, Discord?” Sparkle demanded, with a level tone and intense gaze.

Discord only laughed, bending forward so his head was before Sparkle’s. “You mean, what did I do to you while powerless and imprisoned in a block of stone?” He spoke with a mocking tone, grinning into her frown. Sparkle said nothing in reply, and Discord reached up to trace the line of her jaw with a clawtip. “You really are Celestia’s student, aren't you? You even look a bit like her, with that regal grimace. Always so serious.”

Sparkle’s horn flared, and purple light surrounded Discord’s hand, sharply pushing it away from her. “You called me Sparkle,” she snapped as Discord winced and rubbed his clawed hand with his paw. “Last time we met, you used my full name, every time. Lie to me at your peril, spirit!”

“Gentle, Bearer!” He chided her, rolling his clawed hand stiffly. “There’s no need for such talk. I know about your newfound preference for your former last name the same way I know you’re wasting your time coming here. I can see the unrest in the hearts of ponies, and your heart is more troubled than most.” He slid down to hover in front of his petrified form, legs crossed on the ground before Sparkle. “But that disharmony is not my doing.”

“I had a dream—” Sparkle began, only to be cut off by Discords sharp snort.

“If you really believed my prison was degrading, you wouldn't have come here and confronted me. You would have told Celestia, immediately. You aren't the Element of Honesty, Sparkle, so I see little return in encouraging you to lie to yourself.” Discord spoke quickly and curtly, his gaze level and unamused. “Leave me out of your personal drama.”

Sparkle held her gaze on Discord for a moment, but the anger that had so quickly flared in her faded just as swiftly. She shut her eyes and lowered her head, letting a long silence hang between them. “Fine,” she murmured, turning her back to the statue, looking to the ground to avoid staring into the sun. Light flowed from her horn to her rear hooves, and she raised a rear leg in preparation to put Discord back to rest.

“Probably best you put me back into stone.” Discord muttered, lazily inspecting his claws. “I don’t imagine Celestia would approve anyway.” Discord fixed Sparkle with a careful, evaluating gaze, and a victorious smirk appeared on his face when her hoof hesitated. “Ah.” He gave a gentle chuckle. “Or perhaps that’s why you’re here.”

“What do you want, Discord?” Sparkle sighed. “I believe you. A dream doesn't prove you’ve escaped, and even if it was your doing, I obviously beat whatever trick of yours it was.”

“That’s not the point.” Discord slid around so he hovered in front of her, spreading his arms wide. “You’re one of the Bearers of the Elements, and I’m the Spirit of Disharmony. I’m an existential threat! You don’t just wake me up for tea and a chat.”

Sparkle said nothing, her gaze still on the ground. Many seconds passed in silence, and Discord leaned closer, close enough to whisper into Sparkle’s ear. “Let me take a guess, Bearer. You’re not entirely certain that your dear old friends don’t love Twilight more than you, and we both know how Celestia feels. She gave you a hug. What more help do you need?” He chuckled, leaning away. “In fact, unless I am very much mistaken, there’s not a creature in the world you can talk to right now about what’s on your mind. Except... one.”

Discord grinned, his ethereal form zipping across the park to float beside one of the royal guards there. “Hey, you!” he called as Sparkle looked up with alarm. “Twilight tried to kill herself!” he bellowed. The guard showed no reaction, oblivious to the spectral presence that only Sparkle could see. Discord reached out, waving a hand in front of the guards unmoving eyes. “Well, that’s remarkably cold of him, isn’t it? Why don’t we try another?” Discord drew a deep breath, preparing to shout.

“Stop!” Sparkle cried, the guard looking her way with alarm, as Discord fell silent with a grin. “Not you!” Sparkle shouted at the guard. The snow-white pegasus pony gave her a strange look, glancing around him for who else she could possibly be talking to. Discord zipped back across the field to float before Sparkle’s eyes, his arms folded in front of him.

“This would be sad if it weren't so hilarious. Surrounded by friends, family, and your precious Celestia, and the only one you can talk to is... me.” Discord laughed, sliding to rest on the ground before her. “Oh, this will be amusing.”

“It’s not like that.” Sparkle shook her head. “I could go to Luna.”

“Oh, what a marvelous idea. She knows a lot about jealousy, I’m sure. She really could help. Then you and Twilight can reach the same understanding dear Celestia and her sister have.” Discord snapped his fingers, an ethereal set of silver boots and wire-frame wings appearing on Sparkle. “Hello everypony, did I miss anything?” he jeered.

Sparkle said nothing, keeping her gaze on the ground. Discord shrunk until his entire ghostly form rested comfortably in Twilight’s gaze, letting her see him clearly without raising her eyes to the sun. “Well, you came to talk, didn’t you?” He asked, looking up at her. “Talk.”

“It’s all happening so fast.” Sparkle spoke hesitantly, uncertain if she wanted to say anything at all, but like a dam breaking, the words that started with a trickle soon flowed faster. “This morning, everything was fine. Then it all blew up in my face, and I felt like I was fighting for my life. Then Twilight and I were talking and I just felt so sorry for her. I had to stand up and do something. Then we were pulled away, and Princess Celestia gave me a hug and told me it would all be okay and that we just needed to learn emotional maturity. Rainbow Dash and Twilight are acting like it all never happened.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I don’t know how they can.”

“Ugh. Typical Celestia. If somepony lit you on fire, she’d watch and say it was a wonderful opportunity for you to learn to stop, drop, and roll.” Discord rolled his eyes. “But really, this is what you summoned me for? You’ve got the shakes. Somepony beat you black and blue. It takes time to get over that.”

“I don’t have the shakes!” she snapped, eyes flying open. “I’ve been in mortal danger before. I know what that feels like. This is something else. You just said you can see the disharmony in ponies’ hearts. You tell me what’s wrong with me!”

“It’s not that simple. If I could read your thoughts like a book, would you have been able to sneak up on me with that restored friendship of yours?” Discord spoke with a steady, calming tone, careful to show no reaction to Sparkle’s outburst. He reached out his clawed hand between her forelegs, letting it rest directly over her heart. “There’s a lot bound up in here, Sparkle, but you do have the shakes. It is not the root of your problem, but it’s doing you no favors. Rest, take a few days to recover, let yourself feel safe, and everything will seem better.”

“That’s your advice? Sleep on it? My life is falling apart!” Sparkle shot back, indignant, but Discord shook his head.

“No, Sparkle. Your life has been falling apart for some time. The building may only have collapsed today, but the wood has been rotting for weeks.” Discord corrected her with a stern tone, but he softened his voice as he continued. “Take heart, Sparkle. If all were truly lost, I would be free and this dull, stagnant world you inexplicably value so much would have been washed away by chaos. You are still a Bearer of the Elements, your friends still care for you, and all of that sappy nonsense Celestia prattles on about will still probably save you in the end.”

“Why are you helping me?” Sparkle asked, as though it had only now occurred to her whom she was going to for advice. She raised her eyes faintly, squinting as she peered at Discord’s face.

“For the same reason I guided you through an enchanted maze and corrupted your elements instead of, for example, hitting you in the head with a sharp rock.” Discord replied, with a disappointed tsk and a slight roll of his eyes. “Mine is a living chaos, Sparkle, full of possibility and the eternal chance for things to be different. Permanent damage, such as the kind you now risk doing to yourself, holds no interest to me.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Sparkle murmured, lowering her gaze again. “Thank you.”

“One more thing then, while you’re asking for my brilliant insights. Your family will want to see you soon, parents and all. Refuse.” Discord delivered his words with a pointed air.

Sparkle looked up sharply. “They’re my family and they must be worried sick about me. I can’t refuse to see them,” she insisted with a quiet shake of her head.

“This isn’t about them, Sparkle, and I feel enough mommy and daddy issues in here—” he squeezed his claw over her heart “—to pay for the retirements of a whole team of therapists. It will be more stress at a time when you don’t need it. Refuse to see them until you’re ready.”

“No, they’d be crushed. I—”

“Sparkle!” A voice called out from across the sculpture garden. Sparkle squeaked, and quickly delivered three sharp kicks to the statue’s base. Discord’s ethereal form vanished before her eyes, and she turned to watch Shining Armor gallop towards her. Her brother had obviously just come off duty, still in his armor, and it clattered around him as he moved. He slid to a halt in front of her, levitating his helmet off his head and pulling her into a hug against him. She leaned against him gently, wrapping her forelegs around his neck, her head pressed to his armored chestplate. “How you doing, kid?”

“I’ve been better, BBBFF,” she answered, weary, stepping back and looking up into his eyes.

“So I see. I was on my way to your room when one of the guards told me you were in the garden, shouting at the statues.” He glanced at the statue of Discord. “Something I should know about?”

“No, just... thinking of old times, that’s all.” Sparkle reached a hoof up to rub at her temples. “I’ve been pretty stressed lately.”

“Princess Celestia said that you and Twilight had a fight.” Shining Armor spoke lightly, but not jokingly, his words quiet and reassuring. “A real knock-down brawl from the sounds of it. Want to tell me what happened?”

“How did you know I was—” Sparkle started, only for Shining Armor to reach down and touch her raised hoof with his own.

“You always lead with your right hoof, but kick with your left. Twilight always leads with her left and kicks with the right.” He gave her a faint smile. “You two are easy to tell apart. It’s not my fault all your friends are so unobservant.”

“Good catch,” Sparkle murmured, lowering her hoof to the ground as Shining Armor ruffled her mane.

“Yeah, your wife gets replaced by an evil shapeshifter just once and you start paying really close attention to the little things. Go figure.” His words were encouraging, but he let the conversation lag after he was done.

Sparkle scraped at the ground with a hoof as the silence between them grew. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she finally answered. “It’s personal, and complicated, and we’ll have time to talk about it later.” She paused for a moment, before continuing. “What would you do if there were two of you?”

“Well, the hardest part would be sharing Cadence,” he answered, with a thoughtful tap of his chin. “Then again, the fun part would be sharing Cadence.”

“The fun—” Sparkle started, confused, only for a red-hot blush of realization to rise into her cheeks. “Shining!” she snapped, scandalized, her brother laughing.

“You’re the one who asked, little sis.” He reached down, tilting her head up with a hoof. “You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready, but don’t sit out here and brood on it. Lets go into the city. Everypony will be glad to see you again.”

“I’m confined to the castle grounds.” Sparkle answered, with a shake of her head, but Shining Armor just smiled.

“A royal order that will be enforced by... whom?” He tapped his helmet with a hoof, Sparkle blinking as her mouth fell slightly open.

“Shining! You can’t disobey the Princess!” she insisted, shocked by the very idea.

“I’m sure the Princess won’t mind if I escort you around the city. Besides, I’m married to her niece. I get to bend the rules a little.” He poked Sparkle’s side, urging her on.

“I guess it would be nice.” A smile slowly spread across Sparkle’s face. “Can we get food? I haven't eaten since this morning.”

“Sure thing, Sparkle.” Shining Armor answered, returning his helmet to his head as he turned towards the castle gates, Sparkle trotting alongside him.

“Oh, and... could you call me Twilie?” She asked, trying to watch his face as she moved alongside him. “Just like old times?” His helmet hid his expression from her, an awkward silence following her request.

“Sure thing, Twilie,” he answered, turning to look at her and smile, his tone giving no indication that the silence had ever occurred.

“Thanks, BBBFF.” Sparkle murmured, looking to the earth as the two trotted towards the castle gates.

“Well look again,” Rainbow Dash demanded, Pink Collar wincing as the angry words washed over her. Rainbow Dash hovered before her on the lowest level of the palace tower, her wings slowly beating to hold her aloft. “She’s somewhere in the palace and the train is going to be here any minute! She probably went off to see Princess Celestia. Check if she—” Behind Rainbow Dash, the last sands in the tower’s hourglass ran out, and it slowly began to turn, letting out a clear metallic chime to mark the hour. “Ugh! Forget it.” Rainbow Dash threw up her forehooves in frustration. “Just... find a pegasus to zip down to the train station and tell everypony else where we are.”

“Who should I tell him to expect?” Pink Collar asked, stealing a glance at where Twilight sat across the room. The glance didn’t last long though; Rainbow Dash commanded her attention with two sharp knocks of her forehooves.

“I’ll give you a hint. Two of the Bearers are in front of you, and if you forget what the rest look like, they’re the one’s in the stained glass!” Rainbow Dash’s feathers puffed faintly, and Pink Collar took a sharp step back.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight snapped, rising from where she sat. “That’s enough!” She turned to look at Pink Collar, gesturing the shaking servant away. “I’m sorry about her. Please, find someone to run to the train station and guide my friends here. Thank you.”

Pink Collar couldn't leave fast enough, visibly relieved at Twilight’s dismissal, as she turned and dashed for the door. Twilight let her go, waiting for the door to shut behind her before she turned to Rainbow Dash.

“That was really mean, Rainbow Dash! It’s not her fault they can’t find Sparkle.” Twilight spoke with a sharp, insistent tone as RD shook her head.

“I know!” she replied, exasperated. “I know.” She repeated herself, somewhat more calmly, though a frustrated edge still lurked in her tone. “I’m just mad that Sparkle would run off like that and leave you here.”

“You could just go and get the others yourself, Rainbow Dash. I think I’ll be okay on my own for an hour.” Twilight waved off Rainbow Dash’s concerns. The two had spent the last hour readying the tower, splitting its many floors into separate rooms. Only the ground floor and the first library level were left as common spaces, the other floors and lofts partitioned off by folding walls.

“That’s not the point!” Rainbow Dash insisted, but she hesitated under Twilight’s steady gaze. “I mean, it’s still really rude of her to run off like that without explanation.” Twilight continued to say nothing, fixing Rainbow Dash with her pointed stare. Rainbow Dash landed on the ground, folding her wings in against herself. “And, um, I mean...” She reached up to rub at one foreleg with the other. “I should go apologize to what’s-her-name, shouldn’t I?”

“You should, and don’t call her what’s-her-name to her face. I’ll be here when you get back.” Twilight tapped the floor for emphasis, and Rainbow Dash turned to the door.

She covered the distance in a few slow steps, and stopped before the portal to look back at Twilight. “Um... but Celestia said that a justice would see me today, and it’s getting dark. What if he shows up and I’m not—”

“I’ll be fine, RD.” Twilight repeated, this time more softly. “Go ahead.”

Rainbow Dash pushed the door open and flew off into the evening sky. She started with a quick circuit around the tower, searching for any sign of Twilight’s servant, but she found nothing. The castle staff seemed to vanish when not carefully observed, and Rainbow Dash suspected there were hidden tunnels they used to get around. She felt guilty for letting her anger get the better of her, and she did a wide sweep of the grounds just to be sure, but the servant did not appear. After a few minutes, she gave up, and turned her flight towards the city.

If Rainbow Dash had been any other pegasus, she would have had to make a beeline for the train station to arrive in time, but on this particular night, the fastest pegasus alive didn’t feel like being early. She struck a lazy path through the city, gliding from street to street, watching the sun’s golden light slide across the towers of Canterlot.

A slight twist of her wings made her bank to the right, and she dropped in altitude. Below the rooftops of the taller buildings, she weaved through the skyline with wide, sweeping turns. It felt like sliding downhill through the air, peaceful and easy, and normally, Rainbow Dash would have dismissed it as the only way flying could manage to be boring. Today though, her mind drifted as lazily as she did, and the slow course gave her time to think.

“And then, I held her really close like this and said, ‘Oh, Rainbow Dash, you don’t have to hide your feelings from me!’”

Rainbow Dash plowed into the side of a building, impacting barely two feet to the left of an open window. She tasted blood and saw stars, tumbling nearly two stories before her wings caught her, bringing her to a rough landing by the side of the street. She staggered forward, other ponies rushing to help her up.

“Wow, Twilie. Remind you of anything?” Shining Armor’s voice carried through the air as Rainbow Dash shrugged off her would-be helpers. She flapped her wings and lifted out of the well-meaning crowd, ignoring the cuts and bruises that now adorned her face. She heard Sparkle and Shining Armor’s laughter, and cast her head left and right looking for them. The sound was close, but she couldn't see them, and they hadn’t reacted to her arrival.

“I know! Applejack was giggling so hard she didn’t even stop me when I pulled RD aside to try and ‘help her get over it.’ I didn’t piece together what I’d just said until that night.” Sparkle’s tone was light, and faintly embarrassed, retelling an old yarn. Rainbow Dash lifted above the rooftops, landing on the building directly before her, a two-story townhouse with wide and ornate windows. She slowly tip-hoofed across the shingles, peering down at the street below.

“Is this when they started to realize I had a madmare for sister?” Shining Armor asked, amused. On the street below Rainbow Dash, an open-air cafe had been set up. It wrapped around the townhouse and into the wide alley connecting the two streets. At one of the tables there, Shining Armor and Sparkle sat together. A few empty cups of tea and the remains of some doughnuts adorned the table, long forgotten. Looking at Sparkle, one would think that all was right in the world, a lightness in her body and a smile on her face.

“No!” Sparkle rebuked him, an embarrassed smile appearing on her face. “And I am not a madmare. I just get a little wound up.”

“Twilight—” Rainbow Dash’s eyes went wide as Shining Armor spoke, and then narrowed into a glare “—I love you, but you are the craziest pony I have ever met. It’s been difficult, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that one day it’s going to be my job to hunt you down so they can put the straightjacket on you.” His tone was jesting, and Sparkle giggled.

“Shining!” she squeaked, playful and faux-scandalized. “Is that any way to talk about your only sister? I—”

“You purple witch!” Rainbow Dash leapt from the rooftop, landing on Sparkle’s table with her head lowered and wings spread. The cheap, decorative table legs splintered under the impact, and the tabletop crashed to the ground. Shining Armor and Sparkle each leapt away in surprise, but Rainbow Dash did not give Sparkle room to retreat, stepping after her and leaning forward until they were muzzle to muzzle and Sparkle fell back on her flank. “What the hay do you think you’re doing, Sparkle?” Rainbow Dash spat the name like an accusation, Sparkle scrambling away in shock. “How dare you corner Shining Armor like this? I’ve got half a mind to—”

Before Rainbow Dash could explain just what half of her mind wanted to do, Shining Armor’s horn came alight, and he sharply pulled her away from Sparkle. Circles of purple energy flowed from his horn, and when they struck Rainbow Dash, a purple sphere of force popped into existence around her. She started, and futilely beat on the shield’s edge, nothing more than a loud drumming sound resulting. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you threaten somepony,” Shining Armor addressed her, sharp and angry. “Rainbow Dash, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Why don't you ask your only sister?” Rainbow Dash pointed an accusative hoof at Sparkle through the force field, the unicorn backing away with wide eyes.

“Only—” she started, confused, only to reach a hoof up to her face in realization. “Oh, Rainbow Dash, that just slipped out, I didn’t mean to... I mean, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Trying to what, steal her name? Because you managed to do that too!” Rainbow Dash’s angry accusations were starting to draw a crowd, and Shining Armor cut Sparkle off before she could reply.

“That’s enough, Rainbow Dash. As I understand it, Princess Celestia was already generous with a certain recent reckless flying incident. You can go ahead and add vandalism and causing a public disturbance to that list of charges.” He reached up to the force field with his horn. Rainbow Dash’s angry shout of objection suddenly fell silent as the bubble changed color from purple to blue, all sounds within it contained. That matter dealt with, Shining Armor turned down to Sparkle, offering her a hoof up with a worried, “You okay, kid?”

“I—” Sparkle was slow to accept his hoof. Her eyes were wide, and her breath was coming quickly. She looked between Shining Armor, and the silent pantomime that was occurring over his shoulder, Rainbow Dash beating on the forcefield and shouting unheard words. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her hooves pressed hard against the ground.

“Twilight!” Shining Armor shouted, snapping Sparkle out of it. She shook her head, reaching up to take his hoof and standing.

“I’m fine. Sorry, that just...” She struggled for the words, Shining Armor putting a firm hoof on her shoulder.

“I know. I’m sorry, kid. This is my fault.” He looked back at Rainbow Dash, and at how closely Sparkle was watching her, and after a moment, decided that the last thing Sparkle needed was to have to watch that for the entire walk back. “I should take Rainbow Dash into the local station and write this up. Can you make it back to the palace on your own? Don’t worry about Princess Celestia. I’ll tell the gate guards to forget they saw you coming back in.”

“Yeah.” Sparkle murmured, after a pause. “Yeah, I can make it back to the palace on my own. I’ll be fine.”

Shining Armor reached down to give Sparkle a hug, a gesture she weakly returned. She pulled away after only a few moments, turned back to the palace, and walked away.

By the time Sparkle returned, it was getting dark. The palace was first and foremost a place of administration, and so it largely darkened as the sky did, bureaucrats and nobleponies returning home for the evening. Luna had raised a waxing moon that gave precious little light to see by, forcing ponies to pick their way along the paths and stick to what torchlight there was. Only Luna’s night guards were unimpaired by the shadows. They were ghostly figures who moved where the light wasn’t, visible only as vague outlines amongst the trees or in the gardens. Sparkle’s tower was one of the few buildings on the grounds that was still fully lit, shining like a torch into the darkness. As Sparkle grew close, she could hear ponies’ voices inside, engaged in animated conversation, though the walls muffled the details. When she opened the door to step inside, the conversation abruptly grew louder, and words that she previously could not make out snapped into sharp focus.

“—Am not jealous. I was simply commenting that Twilight obviously hasn’t taken full advantage of her status, particularly with regards to her easy access to Prince—” Rarity’s voice drifted through the air as the front door opened and Sparkle stepped inside. Rarity was seated on one of the many couches that adorned the first floor, Sparkle’s other friends as well as Twilight sitting in a circle nearby. They were all quick to their feet as Sparkle entered, but it was Fluttershy who was first to rush to Sparkle’s side, hovering a few inches off the floor.

“What happened?” Fluttershy asked before the others had even processed the fact of Sparkle’s arrival. “You look awful! I thought Celestia healed you.” Her voice radiated concern, but Sparkle only gave her a level, dull gaze in response. She turned to the nearest mirror, peering into it to see how she looked, but she saw only Fluttershy hovering there. After a moment, her mind caught up to her actions, and she sighed, shutting her eyes.

“I’m just stressed, Fluttershy,” Sparkle explained, and Applejack trotted up to her side, the others not far behind. Sparkle opened her eyes, panning across the faces around her until she found Twilight, matching her look with a weary gaze. “I ran into Shining Armor, and I guess Rainbow Dash was listening in.” Sparkle didn’t say anything for a moment, but then forced herself to press on. “I asked him to call me Twilight, just for old time’s sake. Rainbow Dash thought I was...” Sparkle couldn't finish the sentence. “She flipped out and smashed a table. Shining had to take her in for the night.” Sparkle lowered her gaze to the floor, her shoulders slumping. “Twilight, I’m so sor—”

Before Sparkle could finish, Twilight stepped forward and wrapped her forelegs about her in a stiff hug. Neither pony seemed sure what to do with it, unwilling to draw closer or to pull away. Sparkle wrapped her hooves around Twilight in kind, but that was as far as things went. After a moment, they both decided that the hug was over and returned their hooves to the ground. “It’s okay.” Twilight raised a hoof to Sparkle as Sparkle’s gaze stayed on the ground. “Shining Armor means a lot to us, and I’ve put you through so much. If it makes you feel better to have him call you Twilight for a while, that’s fine with me.” Her tone was wooden and as stiff as their embrace had been, but it was still enough to make Sparkle look up.

“You don’t mean that.” Sparkle asserted, harsher than she had meant to. A few of the ponies around them cringed, and Fluttershy put a gentle hoof on Sparkle’s shoulder to calm her. Twilight though, showed no reaction, faintly shaking her head.

“No, I don’t,” she agreed. “I’m pretty angry actually, but... what else am I going to say? That you’re a bad pony? I’d have done the same thing in your place, and I’m tired of us fighting. So, I’ll get over it. I forgive you.” She forced a smile onto her face. “Friends?”

“Friends,” Sparkle murmured after a pause, the ponies around them letting out a collective sigh of relief.

“That was very brave of you,” Fluttershy murmured to Sparkle, leaning down to hold her in a warm, close embrace. Applejack had much the same idea, reaching out to give Sparkle a reassuring pat to the shoulder. Pinkie Pie was on something of the same track, but expressed it rather differently, leaping high into the air over Twilight.

“Oh oh! You know what this calls for?” she asked, eager and alert.

Twilight hesitated to answer, a faint, genuine smile appearing on her face. “A par—”

“A party!” Pinkie Pie burst out, on cue. “Specifically, a-first-step-towards-reconciliation, be-the-better-pony party! There will be cake and balloons and music, and we’ll party all night long until it’s time to go post bail for Rainbow Dash! Then we’ll be all, ‘Wow, Rainbow, where’d you get the cool tattoo?’ and she’ll be all, ‘Grrr. I’m a changed pony. I can’t survive on the outside now.’ We’ll be super surprised because she was only in there overnight, but prision changes you really fast in Canterlot.” Pinkie Pie landed, her eyes lighting up. “Then, the big musical number!”

Rarity reached out to press a hoof to Pinkie Pie’s mouth before she could continue, silencing the pink pony. “An absolutely charming idea, Pinkie Pie, but I doubt that Twilight or Sparkle is in the mood for such celebrations.” She turned to regard the mirrored pair before her. “I hope that a quiet evening with friends might go over a bit better?”

“It does sound a bit more relaxing,” Sparkle agreed. “It’s so nice of you all to come all the way up here from Ponyville, letting me drag you away from everything just because I’m confined to the palace.”

“Don’t you worry a hair on your pretty mane about it, sugarcube,” Applejack assured Sparkle. “‘T’aint your fault yer stuck here, and you know very well we’re all happy to be here t’support you. Now, lets settle down ‘n’ get back into it. Rarity here was just plannin’ yer weddin’ to the first handsome prince to come by.”

“I was doing no such thing, Applejack, and I would ask you to appreciate the world of difference between commenting on the opportunities available to somepony and intrusively planning their future wedding!” Rarity stomped her hoof and glared, adding, “No matter how glamorous a wedding it would be!”

Laughter floated through the air like bubbles, drifting up from the first level of the tower to reach those above. The ponies had talked for a time, until stiffness gave way to ease, and they gradually broke apart. Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy remained on the lowest level, giggling like schoolfillies over some amusing distraction. Applejack and Rarity had retired upwards, citing an urgent need for fresh air and curling irons, respectively. Sparkle was the last to depart, yawning and excusing herself to bed.

Sparkle was still tossing and turning in bed, when she became aware of somepony else behind the partition. It had not occurred to her to check after arrival if Twilight had laid out enough beds for everypony, or if the two mirror-images would have to share. Along those same lines, it had not occurred to her if it was rude or offensive that she took her old bed without thinking, or if anypony had noticed that she had done it. Such thoughts, and the worries that came with them, were not conducive to rest, and so Sparkle was still well alert when she cracked her eyes open with a, “Hello?”

“Sorry, sugarcube.” Applejack’s voice carried clearly in the small space, even when she whispered. It was dim, and so Sparkle could not make her out, but her outline was distinctive against the folding screen. She walked up to the side of the bed, her hooves making a steady rhythm against the stone. “Ah wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not.”

“No, just thinking.” Sparkle rolled over and sat up, rubbing at her eyes as she faced Applejack. “What’s up?”

“Ah just wanted ta’ say...” Applejack was left at a loss for words for a moment, her gaze briefly darting down to the floor. “Well, shucks. I think you’re worth throwing’ a fit ’n’ breakin’ a table over.” Sparkle looked confused, sitting up more alertly, as Applejack struggled to find the words to press on. “Ah just wanted t’ say... Ah know why it’s important that we be supportive of both of y’all. Ah know that Celestia’s keeping ya both here because the last thing that will make Twilight better is her bein’ stuck here while yer off with all of us. I ain’t doubtin’ her that it’s the right thing to do, but, shucks, Sparkle. It ain’t fair. You didn’t throw the first punch. Y’all made yer mistakes, but that aint the same as...” Applejack shook her head. “Here Ah am ramblin’.”

“Gosh, Applejack, I don’t know what to say,” Sparkle murmured, but Applejack just shook her head harder.

“Ain't nothin’ for you to say. Way back when, Ah thought I could just cut your name in two, give you each half ‘n’ that would be that. Ah’d like to think ah helped more than ah hurt, but... ah know ah hurt you. Ah made everypony think that it was fine, and that you had nothin’ to complain about. Includin’ you.” Applejack reached up to remove her hat from her head, holding it against her chest. “But ah’ don’t know what goes on in yer head, and even if ah meant well, that was right arrogant of me. Ah don’t—”

“I know when she’s lying.” Sparkle words came abruptly, like they had to be forced from her lungs, cutting through Applejack’s softer diction. Applejack looked up sharply, even as Sparkle looked down and away. “Ponies lie a lot, Applejack. Maybe you wouldn't get it, but it’s the little things. When she tells somepony she thinks they’re pretty, or smart, or fun, and I know just how insincere she’s being. Even if it is a little white lie, just to be nice, I feel like it makes her a liar. I feel like it makes me a liar.” She pulled the sheets up about herself, holding them tight in her hooves. “Once, when our parents were about to come to visit us in Ponyville, I asked her how I looked. She told me I looked great.”

“...And?” Applejack prompted, her face an uncertain, worried grimace.

“She thought I looked fat and dumpy and that Mom was going to worry I still didn’t have a coltfriend yet!” Sparkle twisted the blanket in front of her, as Applejack sighed and pressed a hoof to her face.

“Oh dear Celestia. Y’all got all that from ‘great?’ An’ let me guess, you went ’n’ told her she looked great too?” Sparkle said nothing, but glanced down, which Applejack took as a yes. “Good gravy, girl, that’s what this is all about? Y’all are embarrassed you didn’t find the time to trot more laps ’round Ponyville?” Sparkle looked up slowly, glancing back down a moment later.

“You wouldn't understand,” she insisted. “It’s a hundred things, Applejack. The way she looks, the way she talks, what’s in those eyes.” For a moment, Sparkle trailed off. “There’s nopony I can talk to about it, because you all like her. You’ll all tell her or Celestia. You’ll all judge me for it.”

“Shoot, sugarcube. Y’all are gettin’ yourself all worked up over nothin’.” Applejack trotted up to the bedside, her tone relieved and casual. “Ah won’t judge you no matter what you say.”

“Pinkie Promise?” Sparkle looked up hesitantly, Applejack smiling down at her.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Applejack made the motions of the Pinkie Promise, ending with her hoof over her eye. “Now, what exactly could you possibly see in her that justifies all this fuss?”

“She’s a killer.” Sparkle’s words drew Applejack up short in an instant. “She chose not to hurt me, twice now, but she could have finished me off. She’ll never do me in anymore than I will her, but I’ve seen it in her eyes, Applejack. She chose not to hurt me, but it was a conscious choice. She has it in her. Those gears in her head are always turning.” Sparkle rubbed her hooves together, fraying the blanket between them.

“Now... Sparkle,” Applejack started, hesitantly. “Ah’m sure y’all are exaggeratin’ just a tad...”

“You didn’t see her, either time. At first, I thought it was just because she almost died, but then it happened again, that awful sneer, and those eyes. She has so much rage inside her, Applejack. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t afraid either time. I don’t care if she stopped in time. Just then, she was so cold and so cruel. She wanted to hurt somepony.” Sparkle looked up into Applejack’s eyes. “I’m not like that though. I’m not!”

“What? No, sugarcube. Ah know you ain’t like that! Ah...” Applejack trailed off as Sparkle raised her gaze to stare at Applejack head on. “Ah... um.” Applejack took a step back. “That’s a real intense stare you got there.”

Sparkle paused, as though catching herself, reaching a hoof up to her temples. After a long moment, she turned away, falling back to the bed and pressing her head against the pillow. “Good night, Applejack.”

“Ah. Yeah,” Applejack agreed, turning to go. “G’night.”

Quickly, she trotted out and away.

“You won’t get away with this, Ironhoof!” Rainbow Dash shouted from inside her cell, her wings beating furiously as her hooves shook the bars. Though the bars were thick and chains about her strong, it seemed that the whole of the building might shake to pieces with the force of her spirit. She was as wild as her tousled mane, working herself into a lather in her attempts to escape. The sheen of exertion showed itself on her firm flanks, her cutie mark—

Rarity frowned, tapping the page with her quill. She scratched out the last written line, filling in an alternative.

—her brilliant tail lashing to and fro as she—

Again, Rarity frowned and scratched out the writing, giving the page a pointed look. She was stretched out on her makeshift bed. She had curlers in her mane and tail, scroll and quill hovering in front of her as she wrote. “This isn’t coming together at all. The descriptions are just so generic.” She pouted, her telekinesis raising the quill to the paper again, scratching out the last sentence entirely. No matter how she tried, the scenes with stallions were just better than the scenes with Rainbow or Twilight, and the difference in quality was starting to show. She drew a breath, shutting her eyes and trying to draw on her creative powers. “Imagine Rarity,” she encouraged herself, drawing up an image in her mind, “You’re a strapping, wealthy, commanding young stallion with Rainbow Dash chained up in your dungeon.”

“Uh... am Ah interruptin’ somethin’?” Applejack’s voice floated through the air from behind the partition wall, the earth pony giving a belated knock on the wood as though to request entry. Rarity quickly shoved the scroll closed, hurled it and her quill onto a nearby shelf, and shoved a stack of books in front of them.

“No!” she called, flustered, as she turned back to face the partition. “No, nothing at all, Applejack! Uh...” She cleared her throat, raising her voice and putting on her most magnanimous smile. “Do come in!”

Applejack hesitantly trotted inside, giving Rarity a long, neutral stare. “Rarity, uh... if there’s anything y’all wanna tell me—”

“No! Certainly not. It’s embarrassing, really, but I think you overheard some remarks taken out of context.” She waved off Applejack’s concerns with a hoof and a casual smile on her face.

Applejack said nothing for a time, giving Rarity a long, silent stare. She raised a hoof and then put it down again. “Ah mean, if you wanted to say this, now would be the time. It wouldn't even be the third most disturbin’ thing I learned about my friends tonight. You know I’ll always accept you no matter—”

“Oh, Applejack.” Rarity laughed, with a light, soothing air about her. “That doesn't even make any sense.” She spoke with a sing-song air, patting a spot on the bed next to her. “Now, tell me what has you so bothered. You said you learned something else tonight?”

Applejack hesitated, but only for a moment, and soon she trotted up to Rarity’s side, settling down on the bed next to her. Her gaze went down to between her forehooves. “Just... things one of the twins told me. Ah probably shouldn't repeat it, but Ah made a Pinkie Promise that Ah wouldn't judge ’em for it. That promise is gettin mighty hard to keep though. Ah thought this was jus’ gonna to be about territory, you know? The two of them fightin’ over us. But there’s some mighty strange stuff in those unicorns. Scary stuff.”

“Well, of course there is, Applejack!” Rarity assured her, with a wave of her hoof. Applejack looked up, turning to face Rarity. Her expression was confused, and only grew more so when Rarity laughed. “Applejack, dear, everypony has something strange inside them they won’t admit! Maybe it’s a dark thought, or a fantasy, or a pet peeve, or just something they enjoy that’s not quite accepted in polite society. It’s normal, and private, and nopony’s business, but Twilight and Sparkle are having theirs shoved in their faces every time they see each other. Of course it’s taking on an exaggerated importance in their minds.”

“Ah dunno, Rarity. This was some pretty dark stuff,” Applejack insisted, but Rarity waved the matter away again.

“Really, Applejack, can you tell me you’ve never had a thought that would sound scandalous, or absolutely vile if you had to try to explain it to somepony? Not one single awful thought?” Rarity leaned over as she spoke, and Applejack bit her lip.

“Well... Ah guess Ah have had one or two thoughts that it would be a mite shameful to have to say out loud. When you put it that way, it must have taken Sparkle a lot of courage just to tell me—” Applejack caught herself, abruptly. “Er. Not that Sparkle was the one who—Ah mean, Ah wasn’t—”

“It’s quite alright, Applejack.” Rarity reached up to pat the earth pony’s shoulder. “It just slipped out by mistake, and I promise, her secrets are safe with me.”

“Thanks, Rarity.” Applejack nodded. “You really helped me put it all in perspective. Ah should’ve just come to you in the first place.”

“Happy to be of assistance, Applejack.” Rarity smiled. “This little episode has been trying for all of us.”

“Ah mean, Ah should have known that if anyone would know how to deal with dark secrets, it would be you.” Applejack’s smile grew as Rarity’s started to falter.

“Yes, well. A lady must know how to be discreet—” she spoke, flustered.

“Though really, Ah did start to suspect somethin’ after that whole ‘vampony bride’ bit. It did seem a bit conspicuous that it all fell together like that, and that y’all just happened to have that outfit lyin’ around.” Applejack grinned, her tone turning light as Rarity frowned.

“As I explained, that was all just a misunderstanding—” Rarity tried to keep her tone even, but Applejack nudged her before she could finish.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be embarrassed about. Ah know you unicorn mares can get confused. What with those horns and all.” Applejack could not longer contain a giggle, as Rarity’s eyes went wide, then narrowed.

“You filthy little ruffian! I’ll show you what this horn is for!” Rarity levitated Applejack clear off the ground, tossing her over the partition as the earth pony laughed and laughed.

“Well, I doubt the Princess will let Rainbow get anything worse than more community service. I mean, she did help save Equestria. Three times.” Twilight smiled, a faint blush in her features as she looked to the floor. “Still, she probably won’t have time to train for awhile.”

“So not the point!” Pinkie Pie insisted, upbeat. “The question was if you want to keep up as her personal trainer, Ms. Dodgeyhooves Evadesthequestion.”

“You’re really good at it,” Fluttershy encouraged Twilight. “It all got kind of forgotten with everything else that happened, but you and Rainbow were amazing earlier today. I thought she wasn’t going to make it!”

“Well... I guess I could.” Twilight glanced up at the ceiling. “I only started as an excuse to get out of the library, but I’m kind of liking spending more time with Rainbow. I’ve also been meaning to try and be a bit more athletic ever since I did the Running of the Leaves.”

“Wasn’t that last year?” Fluttershy asked, puzzled, and Twilight’s blush only grew deeper.

“I’ve been meaning to try for awhile,” she admitted, embarrassed. Upstairs, the sound of Rarity’s shouting could be heard, Applejack’s laughter echoing. A crash came not long after, and the sound of hooves skidding across stone.

“Sounds like somepony’s having fun!” Pinkie Pie giggled, “It’s like a sleepover!”

“Yeah, if those two are fighting, it really is like a sleepover.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “I’m really glad you girls are relaxing a little. I was worried you’d be miserable, just watching over me and Sparkle.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that, Twilight.” Fluttershy reached out to put her hoof over Twilight’s. “We’re all happy to be here for you, and right now, a little fun is what you need. It’s been such a day—I don’t know how you’re still on your hooves.”

“Neither do I, really. I guess Celestia has a few things to teach me about magic yet,” Twilight reached up to rub the side of her head. “Still, I guess laughing about it is the best thing you can do. You’re the Element of Laughter, Pinkie Pie. What would you do if there were two of...” Twilight trailed off in the middle of her question as she saw Pinkie Pie biting her lip, eyes wide and body quivering. “If there were two Fluttershys,” she finished quickly, pointing to the yellow mare across from them.

Upstairs, the sound of roughhousing continued, Applejack’s voice drifting down along the stairwell. “Oh, so the proper lady does have a rough-n-tumble side. Ah guess I’ll add that to the list of things you’ve been repressin’.” She laughed, her hooves skittering across the floor as she dodged, pillow feathers drifting down to the lower levels.

“Two Fluttershys?” Pinkie Pie asked, raising an eyebrow. Fluttershy squeaked, a blush rising to her face as she glanced down at the floor. “What would we name them? We can’t use New Fluttershy and Old Fluttershy, we did that already. And splitting it down the middle would be even worse! Can you imagine a pony just named ‘Shy?’ Her cutie mark would be a tiny picture of herself shivering awkwardly!” Pinkie Pie reached a hoof up to her mouth. “Why would that poor foal’s parents do that to her?”

“Flutter is a good name though,” Fluttershy put forward, looking up from the floor. “The only problem is, it’s too short. Everyone would think it was Flutter-something. Fluttershy, Flutterwise, Flutterdive, it goes with anything.”

“Anything?” Pinkie Pie asked, perking up. “What about Flutterflutter?”

“Um. I don’t think so, Pinkie. It’s really just—” Fluttershy raised a hesitant hoof.

“Flutterwing. Flutterguy. Fluttercake. Flutterbutt...” Pinkie Pie launched into an increasingly improbable series of alternative names, Twilight and Fluttershy sharing a set of amused smiles. Upstairs, the sounds of horseplay continued for several moments, but they suddenly came to a stop midway through Pinkie Pie’s monologue. Everypony heard the upstairs balcony door blow up, a strong night breeze rushing through the tower.

“Princess Luna!” Rarity exclaimed, the echo of her voice distorted by the interior of the tower and the whistling wind.

“Greetings, Rarity and Applejack.” Princess Luna’s voice carried clearly, a few decibels short of the Royal Canterlot Voice, but still commanding in both tone and volume. “I apologize for interrupting your courtship ritual, but I must speak with the reflection of the pony formerly known as Twilight Sparkle!”

Silence hung in the tower, at every level. The ponies below didn’t move or speak, their ears tilted up to hear what was happening. On the middle level, Sparkle sat up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. Above, Applejack and Rarity slowly looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Uh... you mean just... Twilight?” Applejack finally broke the silence, nervously glancing to the alicorn before her.

“That is correct!” Luna answered, a point of Applejack’s hoof sending her down the ramp to the lower levels. On the ground floor, Twilight, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie all rose, bowing faintly when Princess Luna came into sight on the ramp. The Princess of the Night seemed out of place in this brightly lit tower. The torchlight did not reflect on the metal of her boots, jewelry, or armor, and her spectral mane left her perpetually in shadow. When Twilight last saw her, it was night, and she took such things to be natural, but seeing the Princess in an illuminated room drove home that she was as much a magical creature as Celestia.

“Twilight.” Princess Luna greeted her without waiting for her to rise from her bow. “It is good to see you again. Were that the circumstances were better. My sister has informed me of your plight. We must speak in private.”

Twilight looked to Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie for direction, but each could give her only a shrug. Applejack, Rarity, and Sparkle had all appeared at the top of the stairs, peering down at the first floor below and attentively watching to see what happened. After a brief pause, Twilight let her gaze go back to Luna and nodded.

“Of course, Princess. We can step outside.” Twilight turned to the door, Luna following her out and into the night.

In the wake of their departure, the other ponies in the tower exchanged awkward, uncertain glances. It was Sparkle who finally broke the silence, looking to Applejack and Rarity. “What did she mean by ‘courtship ritual?’”

Rarity gave an awkward smile in reply, Applejack stepping up to Sparkle’s side. “Nothin’, but since yer up, I wanted to have a word with you. Ah was thinkin’ about what you said earlier and, well, everypony has some thoughts they’re ashamed or embarrassed about—”

“The stars are lovely tonight, Princess.” Twilight looked up at the sky as the two walked away from the tower into the darkened palace gardens. It quickly grew difficult for Twilight to see the path in front of her, but she trusted Princess Luna to know the way, and so stuck close to her side.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Princess Luna replied, quickly moving the conversation away from small talk. “My sister and I have been applying ourselves to the study of Starwirl’s journal since the accident. I regret to report that we have made little progress. Ironically, it appears that the great wizard took the secrets behind creating life to his grave.”

“Oh. Well, that’s disappointing,” Twilight murmured, with a glance to her side. “Was that what you brought me out here to tell me?”

“No, Twilight.” Princess Luna stopped and turned, their course having taken them into the middle of the shadowy garden. Around them, framed by the stars above, the outline of plants could be seen. A chill night breeze blew around them, rustling the leaves, but no detail could be made out. Though the stars shone, no light landed upon the ground, and the Princess’s spectral mane was the only source of illumination. It cast her face into a strange luminescence, her eyes seeming to sparkle in the light. She pressed her hoof to Twilight’s chest, and the focus of her eyes narrowed. “I brought you here to discuss you.”

“Me?” Twilight blinked, leaning away from the Princess. “I don’t—”

“My sister may have taken a gentle hoof with you because you are her student, but you cannot hide the truth from me.” Luna spoke sternly and firmly, her voice rising faintly. “You struck at your own sister in a jealous rage, and though you try to conceal it now, I can still smell the vitriol within you. There is darkness in your heart, Twilight, the same darkness that once dwelt in mine.”

Twilight took a nervous step back from the Princess, her footing unsure in the gloom. “Princess, I don’t—” She tried to excuse herself, but Princess Luna pressed on.

“Do not lie to me, Twilight!” The Princess's voice boomed, and Twilight wondered if any of her friends had overheard. “It is not I you fear, but the truth. You have presumed to make darkness your ally, to smile and reassure while bitterness festers within you. Even now you let the comfort of friends and familiarity smother the shame of your actions, and you fear that your friends will learn that it is so!”

Twilight shrunk back from the Princess, tripping over a knothole in the darkness and falling back onto her flank. She stared up at Luna, wide-eyed and tense, able only to utter a pleading: “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to hurt anypony. I don’t want to hurt anypony!”

Luna advanced upon her—a shadowy, imperial presence. She looked down at Twilight from above, her silvery eyes narrowed in judgement. Twilight flinched away, almost curling into a ball, but the blow she tensed in anticipation of never came. Instead, Luna reached down to take her hoof, tugging Twilight gently, signaling for her to stand.

“I know, Twilight,” Luna spoke more softly. “You are not lost to darkness yet. There is much that is good within you, and you have much that I did not when I was in your place. Your friends care for you, and their presence is more than a superficial comfort.” Twilight slowly rose, still uncertain as she looked up at Luna. “However, you do not appreciate the magnitude of the danger you are in—the danger you place others in. Though there is compassion within you, and the blame for this does not rest solely on your shoulders, you have acted selfishly. No matter how it might seem, this is not about you, Twilight. It is about the impact you have on the ponies around you, the power you have to change the world for good or for evil. By acting in the manner that makes you feel good, whether that be avoiding the pain of confrontation or giving in to the certainty of rage, you harm them, and bring a lasting poison into the world.”

“I—” Twilight stammered, her eyes locked onto the Princess's face. “I’m sorry, Princess.”

“I know, Twilight, and I am sorry that I must say things I know will hurt you.” The Princess pulled Twilight into a hug, holding it for several, long seconds before she leaned away. “You have been so kind to me in the past, I cannot bear to see you this way. It is the least I can do to return your kindness. You taught me of the power of friendship, and fun, and though it is a more grim subject matter, I will now teach you of jealousy, and how to overcome it. If you will permit it, I would like to see you each night you remain in the palace, to speak of the events of the day.”

“I think I would like that, Princess Luna.” Twilight nodded, her voice quiet. “Thank you.”

Twilight turned away, walking back towards the tower. She could not see where she was going, and Princess Luna did not follow her to help, but she moved slowly and carefully. The lights of the tower guided her when she emerged from the castle gardens, and when she pushed open the door, light spilled out into the night. Inside, she could hear her friends laughing. Applejack and Rarity were play fighting again, and the others were urging them on, but they all fell silent when Twilight stepped back inside.

“Are you okay?” Fluttershy asked, floating towards the door. The other ponies looked as hesitant as Fluttershy sounded, none of them sure what to make of Twilight’s strained appearance. Her mane was messy, her face more worn than it had been when she left, but she nodded up to Fluttershy.

“Yeah,” she answered, letting her gaze travel over her friends, until it finally settled on Sparkle. “Yeah, I’m feeling... better.”

Twilight smiled, shaking the tangles out of her mane. “Well, don’t let me interrupt. What’s so funny?”

Chapter 8

Somewhere beneath Canterlot Castle, steam hissed. It curled through the air and collected in clouds. It condensed on the cool ceiling, falling to the earth as rain. It emerged from the death of bubbles that lived brief and exciting lives upon a boiling sea, only to return to that sea upon its own demise, the drops that fell to the earth collecting in pools. Thus the steam beneath Canterlot Castle remained beneath it. Forever.

All of it, that is, except the steam that, after its passing, was interred in a coffin of silver. The coffin was old, its sides tarnished, and of a cylindrical shape. Into its depths the remains of hundreds of drops were committed, heated until they rested on the verge of giving new life. These drops alone would leave the place beneath Canterlot Castle, that warmth only preparing them for their long, strange journey.

Once the water was ready, Princess Luna added the tea. The drops did not express any feelings on this matter, but privately, many of them felt the teapot was better before this new arrival.

“This place is beautiful, Princess Luna.” Twilight cast her gaze to the steam-filled caverns around them. Natural geothermal pools bubbled and hissed a scant few yards from the two ponies, the air thick with moisture. Stalactites and stalagmites filled the space, and there was not a single artificial item in it, save the tea set, and the small condenser from which Luna drew the pure water. There were not even any torches or lamps; the only light came from Luna’s mane, and it made the individual drops shine like diamonds falling from the sky. “I had no idea anything like this existed near Canterlot.”

“Once, mares and stallions would journey from across Equestria to Canterlot, asking me to bless their foals to be.” Luna poured two cups of tea, placing them on a flat spot on the stone. The two ponies rested around that point, their bodies flat against the floor. “They believed that if my mane shone in the water, the child would lead a magical but unhappy life, while if my stars were dimmed or distorted, they would be content but insignificant.”

“Those both seem like bad options.” Twilight frowned. “What if they wanted their foal to have a magical and happy life?”

“Ponies who believed such things were possible went to Celestia.” Luna sighed, shaking her head. “My ways were the old ways, and when the world grew kind, ponies forgot them. The Elements of Harmony told a bitter truth, when they diminished my form. I know so little of the new world that I am in many ways a child now.”

“Oh.” Twilight’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry, Princess. I didn’t know.”

“Do not pity me, Twilight. The moment you and your friends stripped me of my dark powers was the grandest of my existence. The thought that once I would have found cruel joy in your suffering now fills me with disgust. The happiness that helping you brings me has more weight than all of Nightmare Moon’s pleasures.” Luna spoke softly, but clearly, pausing only to sip her tea. “Now, tell me what happened to you today.”

“Well... I um...” Twilight looked down at her cup. “I think I made progress today. I feel good, I mean. That is to say, I feel bad, but at the end of it, I think I did the right thing. If that makes sense? I worry I’m reading into nothing.”

“Start at the beginning, then,” Luna urged, with a wave of her hoof.

“Well, after everypony else left to go post bail for Rainbow Dash, Sparkle and I had to go collect Spike from Princess Celestia. The others left him there with her last night, after their train got in.” Twilight looked down at her hooves, the cup of tea held between them. “She was worried that our fighting might have psychologically damaged him.”

“That is a very negative interpretation, Twilight. My sister may just have taken him to comfort him after those events.” Luna’s tone was gentle, but Twilight shook her head.

“No.” She gripped her cup tighter. “When we got there, Princess Celestia explained... She said that second to defending Equestria, raising Spike was our greatest responsibility, and that if we ever fought in front of him again, or she thought we were using him as the rope in some tug-of-war between us...” Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. “She never raised her voice, but I’ve never seen her that mad before.”

“Think, Twilight. Your judgment is clouded by compassion and justified guilt, but it is still clouded. My sister must have known that this would hurt Spike when you first arrived. If she seems more angry now than she did then, it is to impress upon you the importance of your responsibilities.” Luna reached a hoof out to tilt Twilight’s head up. “What happened next?”

“Well, then she brought Spike out, and he seemed happy to see us.” Twilight sniffled, trying to keep her eyes on Luna, chin unconsciously pressing down against that hoof. “But—I messed up right away. It was so stupid—”

“Spike!” Twilight and Sparkle smiled as one when they saw the little dragon emerge from his room. Their eyes lit up, like seeing him had washed away some of their weariness, and they stood up more alertly. For a moment, they were again perfect mirror images, right up to the point that they both leapt forward to hug him.

Their skulls met a few feet in front of Spike, bouncing off each other with a loud knock of impact. Both of them were stunned, their hooves tangling, and they crashed to the floor in a pile. The hard marble floors of Canterlot Castle did not prove gentle in catching them, their teeth audibly knocking together when their jaws hit the floor.

“Twilight!” Spike reflexively cried out, taking a step forward towards the pair. It only took him a moment to realize his mistake, though, and his advance towards them froze, his claws shooting up to cover his mouth. “I—I mean, both of you, I just—”

“It’s fine, Spike,” Twilight assured him, her voice stiff and tightly controlled. Exactly what she was repressing was revealed when Sparkle let out a loud groan, slowly moving to extricate her limbs from Twilight’s. “Just give me a second.”

“I didn’t mean Twilight Twilight.” Spike looked left and right between them, not certain which one he should be apologizing to. His mouth drew into a nervous line. “I mean, I didn’t not mean that either. I just meant both of you! It was a habit and you were hurt and—”

“Spike.” Sparkle reached out to him. She was faster to her hooves than Twilight, and while Sparkle’s mirror copy was still busy getting up, she pulled Spike forward into a tight embrace. “It’s okay.” He hugged her back, tight around the chest, and she leaned in to nuzzle his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay. We just bumped heads.”

“Well, yeah, but—” he said, but before he could finish his objection, he thought better of it. “Um. The floor is really hard I mean.” He stepped back, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “That looked like it hurt.” His gaze still couldn't decide if it should be looking at Twilight or Sparkle, and when he glanced back up at Twilight, he found her giving him and Sparkle the strangest look. Her mouth was drawn, but not quite into a frown, her eyes probing and curious. The expression vanished when he looked at her, quickly replaced by a smile.

“Somehow, I think we’ll survive,” Twilight assured him, turning to look down at Sparkle. “Sparkle.” she used the name for Spike’s benefit, her clear enunciation and directed stare removing any possible room for doubt. “Would you like to carry Spike back?”

“Um...” It was Sparkle’s turn to look uncertain, her face screwing up. She glanced at Twilight, and silence hung in the air for several awkward seconds. Her gaze shifted to Spike, and her expression softened. “I would like that, yes.”

Spike’s nervous expression returned during that long silence, but Twilight showed no sign that anything wrong had occurred. She lifted Spike from the ground with her magic and briefly hugged him as he hovered in the air in front of her, before placing him on Sparkle’s back and turning to face the exit onto the palace grounds.

After a moment in which there didn’t seem to be anything to say, they started walking.

The silence carried with them as they trotted towards what each thought of as her tower. Like a dead weight dragged behind them, it seemed to slow their progress, making every little shock and strain of walking a burden. Twilight looked at Sparkle, and then quickly back ahead. Sparkle glanced at Twilight, and then quickly down to her hooves. Spike stared at both of them, and they returned his gaze, forcing themselves to smile when they did. Still, the silence persisted.

It was Twilight who broke it, drawing a quick breath and letting out an enthusiastic, “So!” She didn’t quite know what was going to come after that word when she said it, but saying it committed her, and that pressure focused her mind to the task at hoof. “We need to think of something to do. Celestia is keeping us here for other ponies’ protection, and so we can work things out, but if we have nothing to do but sit around and brood on our problems, we’re all going to go stir-crazy.” Twilight thought her point was strong, and she had delivered it convincingly, but she did not look at Sparkle’s face to see how it was received. “Suggestions?”

“Your studies?” Spike suggested, raising a claw. “I mean, you talked a lot about being able to combine your powers, but you never actually used that for much. I bet it would let you cast a bunch of spells you couldn't manage before.”

“Mmm. Celestia probably won’t appreciate us setting off any fireworks displays in the city, but there might be a few more subtle high-end spells we could experiment with.” Twilight was careful to keep a relentless cheer in her tone, and she smiled when she saw that Spike was starting to relax. Twilight tried to look at Sparkle’s face as well, but Sparkle kept her gaze straight ahead so that Twilight could not easily read her expression. Twilight frowned slightly, but kept her tone upbeat. “What else?”

“Catching up with your family.” Spike kept the momentum going, energy building in his tone, “I bet they’re worried sick about you. More time with Princess Celestia! Um. Finally going to one of Moondancer’s birthday parties? She did invite you like, every year.”

“All excellent suggestions!” Twilight encouraged Spike, nodding as she went. “I was thinking though, Spike, is there something you’d like to do?” Spike looked up sharply, his body tensing. “Rainbow Dash and I were talking yesterday, and she pointed out that we work you pretty hard. You’re just such an excellent assistant. It’s easy to start relying on you, and you know how much of a mess I make without your help.” Twilight saw Spike’s alarm, but her tone was warm, and she gave it no more acknowledgement than a smile. “So I was thinking, there are probably other spells you can learn to cast with your fire—other than sending letters, I mean. There’s nothing in the library about it, but I bet Celestia could tell us where to find it.”

“Wow. Gosh, Twilight, I never thought of that.” Spike glanced down at the moving ground beneath them, his posture slowly relaxing. “I’m not sure it works that way though. Celestia taught me to send letters, but I think that’s something she does more than something I do.”

“Well then, maybe there are a few other things we can teach you. We apparently have a hidden talent for teaching magic as well, right, Sparkle?” Twilight asked, nudging her thus-far silent counterpart with a shoulder.

“Yeah,” Sparkle agreed, her tone upbeat, but her words clipped. “Yeah, that would be good.” Ahead of them, the tower came into sight, and both ponies subtly accelerated their pace. “We should clean up the tower first, though, and find out what happened to Rainbow Dash. I’m sure the others will have some suggestions as well, too. They are visiting us just to help us get better.”

“Oh, sure!” Twilight chirped, “We could go through the hedge maze again for old time’s sake. Probably won’t be as exciting the second time around, though.”

“Something like that.” When they reached the tower steps, Sparkle opened the door with her magic, lowering and straightening her tail so Spike could slide to the ground. “Spike, could you clean up? Everypony was in a hurry to leave this morning, and I know books got moved to the wrong places when the library was being reorganized. This place just isn’t the same without my number one assistant!”

“Right away!” Spike slid down Sparkle’s tail, giving a salute and rushing in through the open door. His footsteps carried through the library, and once he was up to the second level, Sparkle reached out to shut the door quietly. After a moment, her horn came alight again, casting a muffling enchantment over the door.

“We should go help him,” Twilight said, reaching out to hold the door shut. “Rainbow Dash was right. We do work him too hard. He—”

“Do you have no shame?” Sparkle hissed, her gaze narrowing into a glare. Twilight shrunk back, almost stumbling over her own hooves. “Princess Celestia, Princess Celestia, tells us how wrong it is to let our troubles affect Spike, and you nod and look sad and act like you’re listening. Then not two minutes later, you’re trying to steal his affection. Don’t think I can’t see what you did there. Offering to let me carry him—asking for suggestions so that you can approve or reject them. You’re sick.” Sparkle spat the words, her face curled back into a grimace. The accusation came with an intensity that Twilight had never heard, and her own eyes went wide. “He’s just a child!”

“W-what?” Twilight stammered, her eyes going wide. “N-no! I didn’t! I wouldn't!” She held up a hoof as though to ward off Sparkle’s advance.

“You still think you can lie to me?” Sparkle demanded. She drew back, shaking her head as she shoot Twilight a disgusted look. “Forget it. It’s more important that we not fight in front of him. Just... don’t do that again.”

“I’m not lying!” Twilight hissed. “Don’t you look at me that way!” When Sparkle didn’t immediately answer or change her expression, Twilight leaned in close, narrowing her face into a glare and setting her teeth on edge. “I said don’t look at me that way!”

This time, Sparkle shrank back, but with a far greater urgency than had possessed Twilight a moment ago. She scrambled away, backed against the edge of the stairwell, her tail hitting the railing behind her as her eyes went wide. “I’m sorry,” Twilight pleaded, the glare instantly vanishing from her face. “I’m sorry I’m sorry oh Celestia I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, really,” Sparkle cut her off, shaky in her movements as she opened the door, trying to keep an even pace as she walked past Twilight to go inside. She could not quite manage it though, failing to conceal either the urgency in her steps, or the way she half-shut the door behind her like a shield. “Why don’t you go see about the others? They should be back soon.”

“Y-yeah.” Twilight nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do that,” she agreed, looking up at the door, her ears folded and tail drooping. “I’m so sorry, Sparkle. I didn’t mean—”

Sparkle shut the door.

“She was afraid of me.” Twilight sniffled, squeezing tears out of her eyes. “It was like when I was created all over again. It was horrible.” She forced her tears to stop, taking control of her unsteady breathing and shaking her head as though to clear it. “I was so rattled. I couldn't do anything but lie there. I think I was shaking. Thank goodness Spike didn’t open the door before I managed to get away.” Retelling the story made her shiver, and Luna reached out a hoof to steady her.

“I will ask you a question now, Twilight, and you must not answer impulsively.” Luna spoke quietly and calmly, and Twilight drew comfort from that gentle tone. “Was Sparkle correct? Were you, even if you did not realize it, acting as you did to steal Spike’s affection or to assert yourself over her?”

Twilight nodded, pursing her lips and taking a moment to think. She gazed down into her cup, watching its rippling surface, and she wondered how often Luna had done the same thing in these caves. She hadn’t asked if Luna actually could bless ponies, and for a moment, she tilted the cup to try and see if the tea would reflect Luna’s mane.

“Twilight,” Luna prompted her, after a sufficiently long time had passed. Twilight sighed and put the cup down.

“No, Princess. It was thoughtless. I should have realized what impact my actions would have on Sparkle, but all I was thinking is that that the silence must have been hurting Spike. I had to say something, anything.” Twilight lowered her head, shutting her eyes for a time.

Luna tilted her head as she watched the unicorn’s reaction. “Then why might Sparkle think you were?” She pressed with the utmost care, peering in closely at Twilight. To Luna’s inquisitive eyes, Twilight showed no sign of strain, taking the question as it was intended and shaking her head.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I guess because she loves Spike too, and she feels like I’m hurting him. I’d do anything to protect him, so she would too.” Luna allowed herself a silent moment, a ghost of a smile briefly appearing on her face. “If I thought she was willing to hurt Spike just to get at me, or to get at anypony...” Twilight’s muscles tensed, but she forced herself to take a slow breath, and relaxed. “But she wouldn't, anymore than I would. If I think that, I’m just making the same mistake she did.”

“Tell me what happened next, Twilight,” Luna said, her carefully neutral expression returning when Twilight looked back up at her.

“Well, after I recovered, it actually was about time for the others to be getting back, so I went to the palace gates to see if they were there—”

“Ah gotta admit, Pinkie Pie—ah did not see that one comin’,” Applejack said as she trotted through the gates of Canterlot Palace. Her tone was light and her step high, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash not far behind her. “S’pose I should be used to your weird insights by now, but, shucks, we might have been in a real spot o’ trouble if you hadn’t been ready.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Rarity added her own words with gusto, heavy emphasis making the words seem to roll off her tongue in waves. “I still have no idea how you managed to sneak that one-pony band into the station, but I’m certainly glad you did.”

“You were amazing, Pinkie.” Fluttershy agreed, with a happy little nod. “The police and guards were such good backup singers, and I thought the other prisoners’ bit was really touching. You could really tell they wanted Rainbow Dash to get her life back!”

“Guys, I told you, this is a temporary tattoo. It’s just paint on my coat. It rubs off! Look! Look at this!” Rainbow Dash demanded, flying ahead of the group. She turned around to face them, sharply rubbing her hoof against the butterfly that now adorned her ankle. “I’m rubbing it off right now!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Rainbow Dash! Remember what the justice said: getting rid of those old prison gang markings is a big step on your road to rehabilitation!” Pinkie Pie cheerfully bounced along, her motions taking her up to Rainbow Dash’s hovering height at the apex of every leap.

“I wasn’t in a prison gang! I wasn’t even in prison! I was in lockup for one night! One!” Rainbow Dash bellowed at the top of her lungs, panting with the effort as Fluttershy floated up to her, putting a hoof on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Rainbow Dash. We understand,” Fluttershy cooed to the other pegasus, her voice gentle. “Prison is a rough place, and none of us like to think of the ponies around us as a gang.”

Further into down the path, Twilight’s ears perked up as she heard a scream of frustration so intense it echoed clear across the castle grounds. She picked up her pace, spotting the pegasi hovering over the gardens and calling out, “Fluttershy! Rainbow Dash!” It was only when she got closer that she saw the others and slowed back down from a canter to a walk. “Hey, everypony! Hey, Rainbow Dash. How did things go?”

“Oh, it was simply awful...” Rarity started, only to pause and wave a hoof vaguely in Twilight’s direction.

“Twilight,” she answered, shooting Rarity a half-lidded glance.

“Oh, it was simply awful, Twilight!” Rarity dramatically sighed, holding a hoof to her forehead as though she might faint. “We hardly even recognized Rainbow Dash when—”

Rainbow Dash stuck her hoof over Rarity’s mouth before she could say any more, answering Twilight with a succinct, “Four hundred hours of community service, less with good behavior. No big deal. I start tomorrow morning.”

“That’s great,” Twilight agreed, though it was a bit of a rote response, and she glanced at everypony nervously. “Um... Sparkle and Spike are in the tower already. Would you all mind running ahead and giving me and Rainbow Dash some time to talk privately?”

“Oh. Sure. No problem,” Fluttershy answered, nodding. Everypony else Twilight had indicated nodded as well, and soon, the four of them trotted away towards the tower. Silence hovered around Twilight and Rainbow Dash as they waited for their friends to move out of hearing range. Twilight scratched at the ground with a hoof.

“So,” Twilight murmured, inspecting the ground around her hooves.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed, looking up at the clouds.

“Sparkle told me why you were arrested, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight kept her gaze between her hooves, unable to look up. “Why you got angry, I mean. It was really...” She struggled for the words, Rainbow Dash hesitantly glancing down to look at her. “Sweet. It was really sweet of you, Rainbow Dash, but I don’t need you to defend my honor.”

“It wasn’t right, Twilight. She can’t do that to you, and it’s not right that everypony thinks that was just a little mistake.” Rainbow Dash’s wings fluttered quietly when she spoke, left hanging at rest slightly apart from her body. “If she painted herself white and asked Sweetie Belle to call her ‘Rarity,’ everypony would see how twisted that was. This isn’t any different!”

“It is different, Rainbow Dash. She’s not pretending to be me, she just... she wants her life back.” Twilight scraped at the ground again, her gaze not rising. “I hate it, but I had a talk with Princess Luna last night and... I need to let it go, Rainbow Dash. What I said to you, in the library—it was true, but I didn’t say it for the right reasons. I said it because I was bitter and angry and I wanted to make you feel bad. Sparkle is your friend too, Rainbow Dash. You owe her your loyalty as well.”

“She’s not like you though, Twilight! I mean, she is, but she’s not. She’s bitter and nasty and jealous!” Rainbow Dash’s wings finally flared out, and she took a step forward towards Twilight.

“She’s never attacked another pony, Rainbow Dash. She never hurt anypony in a spiteful rage. I have no room to judge her for being jealous.” Twilight’s words sunk until they were almost a whisper, her head falling lower to the ground.

“That was different!” Rainbow Dash insisted, “After what she said to you—”

“Don’t make excuses for me!” Twilight’s head snapped up, and Rainbow Dash stepped back with wide eyes. “Don’t ever try to say that what I did was okay, Rainbow Dash! It wasn’t. It wasn’t, and I don’t know how everypony can be so calm about it. My friends are giving me a free pass on trying to murder another pony and... and you shouldn’t!” She choked the words out, her voice strained. “You shouldn't.”

“Twilight...” Rainbow Dash floated up to her friend, putting a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “We aren’t giving you a free pass. I mean, c’mon. You’re like, a terrifying doom wizard. If you really wanted Sparkle dead, she’d be toast.” Twilight’s ears folded back and she looked down, a faint whimper escaping her. “W-what I mean is… uh,” Rainbow Dash stammered as she backtracked. “We know you didn’t mean it, Twilight. What you did was wrong, but you’re trying to make up for it! So, um… why don’t… I go say sorry to Sparkle right now? We’ll make up, be friends…” Rainbow Dash gave Twilight’s shoulder a gentle nudge, but she didn’t raise her head. The silence between them grew, Rainbow Dash biting her lip. “I can show you my prison tattoos?”

“You have prison tattoos?” Twilight asked, looking back up at Rainbow Dash, her ears perking up.

“Well, I have a prison tattoo.” Rainbow Dash held up her ankle for inspection.

Twilight let out a tepid laugh, a sound more like a stuttering sigh than a giggle. “Rainbow Dash, that’s a butterfly, and I think it’s rubbing off.” Twilight turned back up from Rainbow Dash’s ankles to look at her eyes, a weak smile on the unicorn’s face. “Are you exaggerating to try and impress me?”

“Uh, I don’t think a pony like you could understand how prison works, Twilight.” Rainbow Dash insisted with a wide roll of her eyes. “On the inside, one little mistake can mean your life! Uh… not mine of course. I was in this awesome and totally badass prison gang…”

“How long did you allow her to talk before rescuing her from her falsehood?” Luna asked, a gentle grin on her face that she hid with a strategically timed sip of tea.

“She’d made up names and rap sheets for all the members of her gang, and their nemesis, Rat Fink.” Twilight giggled. “After the shock from earlier, it was nice just to listen to her ramble on. It made things feel normal. Eventually, though, we had to move on. She really did need to apologize to Sparkle, and so did I, for that matter. It was... good.” Twilight nodded. “It was good.”

“You have reservations?” Luna asked, and Twilight lowered her head.

“It was nice, having Rainbow Dash all to myself. She made up with Sparkle later, and I know they spent a lot of time together that afternoon. It sounded like they patched a lot up. I should be happy for her. Well, I am happy for her, I’m just also sad for me.” Twilight gave a weak, humorless laugh. “Is that wrong?”

“Do you really need me to answer that question, Twilight?” Luna asked softly, but pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Princess Luna, but with everything that happened today... well. That moment with Rainbow Dash was about the only break in a sea of nonstop awful. First Spike, then my parents, things just kept coming. I really enjoyed that time alone with her. It felt like everything was right in the world again, like it was before. I guess...” Twilight nudged her cup. “I guess I did kind of wish that she and Sparkle wouldn't make up. I’m sorry, I know that’s petty.”

“Now you are dwelling, Twilight, which means it is time to move on. Tell me what happened next. You and Rainbow Dash went and apologized to Sparkle?” Luna sat up slightly, but Twilight answered with a shake of her head.

“Not just then. We went straight back to the tower, but something else came up before we could say anything…”

“My lady!” A familiar voice called out to Twilight as she made her way down the palace path towards her tower. Pink Collar emerged from a set of bushes nearby, though not a bramble or twig tore at her dress, an envelope floating alongside her. Rainbow Dash squinted suspiciously at her sudden appearance, hovering over to the bushes to inspect them as Pink Collar trotted up to Twilight’s side. “A letter from your esteemed family.”

“Oh, thank you.” The glow around the letter shifted hue from pink to purple as Twilight took it. She too glanced over at the bushes, looking curiously at Pink Collar. “Did you run all the way to find me from the palace gates?”

“Oh, not from the gates, my lady,” she answered with a reassuring ease. “The letter came to the palace mailroom. It is my understanding that your esteemed parents are not in Canterlot at the moment, but will be returning this evening. While I am not privy to the contents of their message, Princess Celestia has made one of the chambers of the palace proper available to you for just such a reunion, since you are unable to leave the palace grounds.”

“Oh, that would explain why they haven't visited yet.” Twilight glanced down at the letter, and then back up at the servant. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course, my lady. Do let me know if you need anything else.” Pink Collar bowed down on one knee and then turned to the nearest palace building, trotting away towards the servants’ entrance. Rainbow Dash looked up, alert for any sign of where she came from, but her course took her nowhere near the bushes. Quickly, she moved out of sight, vanishing behind a set of wooden doors.

“Well, that was nice.” Twilight turned back to the tower, tearing open the letter as she went, and quickly scanned down it. The contents were heartfelt, but simple—that her parents had heard something had happened but didn’t know what, that they hoped she and Sparkle were okay, and that they were rushing back to the palace as quick as they could. There was nothing about meeting that evening, but Twilight assumed Celestia knew more than she did, and took her mentor’s scheduling as generally valid.

“Mmmhmm,” Rainbow Dash agreed, floating alongside Twilight, her tone playful and teasing. “Just remember. my lady, if there’s anything else I can do for you, or with you, or to you—”

“Oh stop that, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “You’re worse than Rarity. She’s just being friendly.” They were not far from the tower, and their course quickly took them to the stone steps at its door. Twilight hesitated at the door, frowning for a moment. She knocked instead of entering uninvited. “Sparkle? I’m back. I brought Rainbow Dash, and there’s a letter from Mom and Dad.”

Rainbow Dash glanced down at Twilight, her mouth drawn into a tight line, but she made no comment on Twilight’s knocking. The door opened after a few moments, but it was Applejack there instead of Sparkle.

“Howdy, Twi. Sparkle’s just upstairs. Uh... everythin’ okay with you two?” She stepped out of the way to let Twilight and Rainbow Dash inside.

“Everything’s fine, Applejack,” Twilight said, waving off Applejack’s concern. “I just wanted to talk to Rainbow Dash about Sparkle and... well—being more sensitive to what she’s going through.” Twilight turned to the ramp that circled the inside of the building and trotted upstairs with a call of, “Sparkle! Mom and Dad are coming tonight!”

Rarity, Sparkle, and Pinkie Pie all waited on the second level of the tower, looking up to watch as Twilight, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash made their way up the ramp. Sparkle sat in the middle of the room, a book open on the floor in front of her, as Rarity and Pinkie Pie clustered around her. A number of objects also hovered around her in a more literal sense, Rarity’s comb, brush, and several jars of makeup all making their rounds. “Twilight! You’re just in time,” Rarity greeted her. “I had the most darling idea! Remember how you’re supposed to be leaving that pen over your ear so we can tell the two of you apart, but you keep forgetting? Well, I thought it would be easier if we just dyed your manes, but what started as a practical idea turned absolutely fabulous once I had some time with a proper color wheel—”

“My idea was that we should palette-swap you!” Pinkie Pie suggested, eagerly hopping clear over Sparkle to land on her other side. “It would be just like that time I went as my photo negative for Nightmare Night. Except without all those foals screaming and thinking I’m possessed.”

“Ah told you, I ain’ a foal!” Applejack stomped her hoof and snorted, but Twilight trotted up to Sparkle without comment.

“Hey,” Twilight muttered to Sparkle, turning around to gesture Rainbow Dash forward with a jerk of her head. “Rainbow Dash has something she wants to say to you.” Sparkle’s face remained impassive as Rainbow Dash floated up to her, awkwardly scratching the back of her head with a forehoof.

“Yeah... listen, Sparkle. I know some parts of what I said might have sounded bad.” Rainbow Dash spoke hesitantly, reaching for the words as everypony in the room looked up at her. “Particularly the part where I called you a hornless, brother-stealing, vampony witch.” The gazes of a few of the ponies around Rainbow Dash intensified, and she hesitated, glancing between them. “But uh... I really meant it in a good way.”

“You never called me hornless, Rainbow Dash,” Sparkle answered through clenched teeth, her tail lashing behind her.

“Oh, really? Phew!” Rainbow Dash sighed, dragging the back of a hoof over her forehead, “That’s good, because I was totally thinking it.” The stares of everypony around her narrowed into pointed glares, and Rainbow Dash quickly stammered, “B-but that’s not the point! The point is—I’m sorry. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt and been more, you know. Understanding and stuff. You’re always so in control. It’s easy to forget you’re going through the same stuff Twilight is. So, um...” She looked around at the other ponies in the room for some hint of approval. “We cool?”

“Rainbow Dash, that was the worst apology ever.” Sparkle glared up at Rainbow Dash, but the glare didn’t hold, and soon she relented with a sigh. “But yeah, we’re cool.”

“Awesome.” Rainbow Dash let her shoulders slump. “I was worried you’d still be upset or something.” She looked around the room, puzzled to find everypony still glaring at her. “So, we’re dyeing Sparkle pink?”

“In a second, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight levitated the letter over to Sparkle, laying it out over her book. “We got a letter from mom and dad. They’re out of town—that’s why they haven't visited—but they’ll be back this evening. Princess Celestia made one of the palace rooms available since we can’t leave the grounds. If you all don’t mind me and Sparkle leaving you alone this evening, I thought we’d make it a family thing.”

“Well of course, darling!” Rarity assured Twilight with a slight wave of her hoof. “I’m sure your family must be worried sick. We’ll be happy to—”

“I’m not going.” Sparkle pushed the letter away from her, letting it float to the floor by Twilight’s hooves. “There will be time to talk to mom and dad later. This is just a lot to deal with right now. I don’t think seeing them will help.”

Silence hung in the wake of that declaration, the ponies around Sparkle looking at her, and Twilight, and at each other. Rainbow Dash bit her lip. Pinkie Pie’s eyes and ears were alert. Applejack scratched at the floor with a hoof, and Rarity wore a stoic mask. Twilight simply stared, her mouth hanging open. It was Rarity who broke the silence with a quick and upbeat, “If that’s what you think is best, Sparkle, we’re all behind you. This visit is about you getting better. Isn’t that right, everypony?”

“And then?” Luna asked pointedly as Twilight trailed off.

“We all agreed with her, of course. What else could we say?” Twilight asked. “Fluttershy came down from upstairs. Pinkie Pie gave her a hug. We couldn't tell Sparkle she was a bad pony for not going; that would have been awful.”

Twilight’s cup was long since empty, and Luna used the natural pause in the conversation to refill it. She was in no hurry to answer, and took her time to return the kettle to its resting place before she spoke again.

“But you do feel she’s a bad pony, don’t you?” Luna’s calm, impassive tone stood in a sharp contrast to Twilight’s own fraying voice.

Twilight looked up at Luna with a trembling gaze. “Our parents were worried sick about us and Sparkle blew them off to go spend time with Princess Celestia.” Twilight’s voice was shaky at first, but it grew hard as she continued, steadily growing in volume. “She couldn't have been more of an uncaring witch if she’d actually called Princess Celestia ‘mom’ in front of them!”

Princess Luna took quiet note of the shift in Twilight’s tone, and her mouth quirked into a frown, but she gave no other reaction. “You are getting ahead of your story, Twilight,” Luna rebuked her with a gentle shake of her head. “But we will stop to examine this matter. What would be wrong with that?”

“Huh?” Twilight blinked, caught off guard.

“Sparkle referring to my sister with a term of matronly affection—so long as my sister did not object, of course.” Luna clarified her question with a dismissive wave of her hoof.

“Wha?” Twilight started, drawing back as her face twisted. The shock only lasted a moment, though, and soon her glare returned with full force. “You mean, aside from telling our real mother that we abandoned her and found a replacement she can never hope to live up to? I can’t see anything wrong with that!” The teacup in front of Twilight trembled, her levitation wavering.

“Is your mother jealous of Princess Celestia?” Luna asked, raising a single inquisitive eyebrow.

“That is so not the point!” Twilight snapped, but Luna raised a hoof before she could go any further.

“I think it is the point, Twilight. You met with her and your father just this eve, did you not? The topic of my sister’s caring for you and watching over you through this crisis must have come up, at least in passing. So, I will repeat the question: is your mother jealous of your teacher?” Luna delivered her last sentence pointedly, her gaze boring into Twilight.

Twilight’s anger faltered under Luna’s stare, and she tilted her head to look down and away. “Well... no. I mean, I’m sure she wishes she could spend more time with me, but... she’s really happy for me, and...” Twilight scraped her hoof over the floor a few times.

Luna shook her head. “The thought of Sparkle’s doing as you have said angers you, Twilight, but not because you are defending your family. Look inside you and see the truth—your anger is not righteous, but selfish.” Luna signaled for silence before Twilight could answer, letting her ponder what had been said. Twilight lowered her gaze to the floor, her ears folding back, and Luna let the silence hang as she took another sip of her tea. Around them, the natural caverns hissed, drops of water falling from the ceiling.

“We will have to discuss your meeting with family, Twilight—” Luna broke the silence sharply, with a clear voice that projected through the space “—but that should wait for last. More happened during the day that we have yet to discuss.”

“Not that much more,” Twilight demurred, her gaze still to the stone. “We dyed Sparkle’s hair, reorganized the library, got Spike settled in. We spent most of the afternoon reading, even Rainbow Dash.”

“Did you not speak to Sparkle during this period?” Luna inquired, her tone pressing.

For a moment, Twilight held to silence, but then she relented with a sigh. “Well, there was one thing...”

“You want to get me and Sparkle together. I understand that, but I don’t think this is really the time to be practicing magic,” Twilight tried to object, but she was helpless to resist Pinkie Pie’s shoving her up to the roof. Every time Twilight would stop on the ramp, Pinkie’s head would shove against her flank, pressing her forward and up. When they finally reached the roof-level exit to the tower, Twilight dug in her hooves, turning around to face the earth pony behind her. “Look, Pinkie. I know this seems like a good idea, but I really don’t think—”

“You listen here!” Pinkie stuck her head forward, looking Twilight head on in the eyes. Twilight started, caught off-guard by this display of aggression. Instinctively, she leaned away—driven back until she was pressed against the wall by Pinkie’s advance. “You two learned that you could cast super awesome spells way back at the beginning. It’s been forever and you haven't done anything with it. We are not going through all of this stress and it turns out that that was the secret solution all along!” Pinkie Pie tilted her head so she was staring with one far-too-wide eye “So you go out there and you cast some spells! You got that?”

“Uh, Pinkie? Did you stop taking your medication again?” Twilight gave a nervous laugh. “You know the doctor said it’s really important”—Pinkie Pie’s eye narrowed into a glare—“that I go out and spend some time with Sparkle. Right. Got it.”

Twilight heaved a sigh when the door was securely shut behind her, with Pinkie Pie on the other side.

The “roof exit” to the tower wasn’t really on the roof. Like many of Canterlot’s buildings, Twilight’s tower was topped with an onion-shaped dome that came to a point, topped with an ornate sun—an impractical design for walking on. Instead, the door led to the cavernous, unfinished space directly under the dome, open to the outside by a series of large arches that opened over the sheer drop at the tower’s edge. The air was still when Twilight emerged and spotted Sparkle sitting halfway across the room. She quickly trotted over and settled down against the stone. The room’s significant elevation and odd design intensified Canterlot’s winds, and she wanted to come to sit before a gust knocked her onto her flank.

Sparkle was reading a particularly thick tome on dream interpretation, her horn projecting a shimming bubble around the book to stop it from getting caught in the breeze. “Hey,” Twilight greeted as she slid down to sit next to her. “Pinkie Pie sent me out here. She thought we could... work on our studies together? It has been awhile since we actually did any serious research.” Sparkle looked up at Twilight, but didn’t speak, and Twilight nervously injected into the silence, “I mean, that’s probably part of why we’re going so crazy. Maybe a small part, but... um.” She rubbed her hooves together.

“I really don’t feel like it right now, thanks, Twilight.” Sparkle turned back to her book, eyes steadily scanning back and forth down the page. Twilight glanced at her and nodded, even though Sparkle couldn't see the gesture. A sudden gust blew through the space, the two ponies’ manes and tails whipping around them. Twilight winced into the wind, but Sparkle showed no reaction, still reading impassively. When the wind died down, Twilight spoke again.

“Princess Luna told me something last night, about us having the power to change the world for better or worse. It made me think of what it was like to cast the duplication spell in the first place.” Sparkle looked up, if lethargically, and Twilight took that as an invitation to continue. “Normally, when we do magic, it’s for an intended purpose, and it does what we want it to do, but that spell was different specifically because we didn’t know what it was for. We were directing an enormous amount of power with no idea what was going to happen. What if it was a fireball, or a summoning spell? What if something awful had eaten half of Ponyville?”

Sparkle looked back down to her book, then up to Twilight, then back down the book again. After a moment’s visible indecision, she closed the book with a hoof, turning to face Twilight more resolutely. Her motions were still slow and unenthusiastic, but her eyes focused on Twilight more completely. “You’re implying that we’re being punished for our hubris.”

“No!” Twilight answered quickly, her tone backpedaling with all haste. “I just meant, I think this is some of what Princess Celestia was trying to tell us, when she said that our powers could harm the ponies around us. At the time, I didn’t really understand. I thought she was talking about our powers going completely outside our control, like they did when we got our cutie mark—or that we’d keep miscasting spells. But I think she meant...” Twilight fell silent, as another burst of wind blew through the tower around them, both of them wincing in the gale.

“Well, it’s just, casting that spell was really...” Twilight tapped her hooves together, her gaze going to the floor as she bit her lower lip.

“Fun,” Sparkle supplied. “It was really fun.”

“Yes. Fun,” Twilight quickly agreed.

“Then she agreed I had a good point, and I went back inside,” Twilight shook her head, gaze back down into her cup. She’d had quite enough tea for one night, particularly so late, and Luna had started refilling it with water instead. Even clear though, the cup made a good target for Twilight’s eyes. She could trace every little crack in the bottom of the ancient china, see every point where the ceramic had worn with the friction of tens of thousands of cups of tea over the years. “I left to see my parents not long after that. The gate sent a messenger to tell me they were here, and I didn’t think I had to dress up or—”

“Twilight,” Luna tried to interrupt, but Twilight just kept talking.

“—do anything special, I mean, it was just a nice informal meeting. Rarity did help me clean up a little bit, but that was just because I was nervous and she was calming me down. I wasn’t really sure how I’d explain only one of us showing up—”

“Twilight,” Luna repeated, more firmly, but to no greater effect.

“—particularly since I’m the copy, I mean, what am I supposed to say? Mom and dad suddenly had another daughter. She should have been in fits, but she took it so well, just asking Princess Celestia if we’d be okay and—”

“Twilight!” Luna shouted, and Twilight jumped, dropping her cup in surprise. Luna caught the ancient china inches before it would have struck the floor, the water spilling out onto the stone. It flowed back across the channels in the floor to the pools around them while Luna returned the cup to its rightful resting place with the rest of the tea set. “You left off in the middle of a conversation.”

“We didn’t say anything else important,” Twilight murmured, but she couldn't meet Luna’s eyes, burying her gaze in her hooves.

“Tell me what you said, Twilight,” Luna insisted, narrowing in her gaze on Twilight’s face.

“It was something... It was something private. Something very private, between me and Sparkle,” Twilight raised her voice, but she couldn't inject anger or strength into it, and the words sounded feeble even to her.

“If that were true, you would not have told me about the conversation at all,” Luna replied with an imperious certainty, raising a hoof to point it down at Twilight. “You desire to be unburdened of this secret, Twilight, but you fear the pain of telling it.” As Luna spoke, her voice sunk, but Twilight heard her clearly all the same. The space around them played tricks with the sound, and the quieter Luna’s voice grew, the more she seemed to be whispering directly into Twilight’s ear. “Remember what I told you about taking the easy path simply because the harder one is emotionally difficult. Tell me what you said, Twilight.”

For a long time, Twilight said nothing, just staring down at her empty hooves and letting the silence hang. When she finally spoke, her voice was a whisper. “I can’t.”

“I have done darker things than you can now imagine, Twilight Sparkle. I will not judge you.” Luna lowered her hoof, reaching around under Twilight’s chin, tilting her head up until she met Luna’s gaze. “Tell me what you said.”

“I—” Twilight stammered. “I...”

“Fun,” Sparkle supplied. “It was really fun.”

“Yes. Fun,” Twilight quickly agreed. “Really, overall, if I had to describe it, I would say it was fairly overwhelmingly... fun.”

For a time, the two sat in silence, another gust of wind blowing around them, whistling through the arches of the tower dome.

“I mean, fun might not even be the right word.” Twilight blurted the words out, her breath tight in her chest. “It was kind of... um...”

“Tense,” Sparkle offered, and Twilight hurriedly latched onto the word.

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it. It felt tense, like I was all wound up inside, but in a good way. No, in a great way. Like every part of my body was electrified.” Twilight looked at Sparkle hopefully, expectantly. Sparkle returned her gaze, peering at her more closely.

“It wasn’t a physical sensation though, was it?” she prompted, her tone urging Twilight on.

“No... no, not physical. It was like when you have two good options and you don’t know which one to pick. You’re so eager, ready to go, but you’re tense on the spot. I felt like I could do anything. With a spell that powerful, I really could have been doing anything. Space and matter were turning to putty in my hooves,” she said, rubbing them together as her breath came in spurts.

“You didn’t feel scared though. We’re normally so self-conscious.” Sparkle gave her the barest of prompts, nudging her on.

“No, I mean, you know all this—we both know all this—but it just felt right. When I was training with Rainbow Dash, she said when she gets really into a routine or a trick, she stops thinking—her mind is too focused on her flying for any distractions or doubts. That was me, us. It was intoxicating. I could have destroyed the library with a thought, just with the surplus energy. I could have turned Ponyville into a crater if I’d wanted to!” A quiet giggle escaped her, a smile appearing on her face even as she fought force it down. “I mean, I wouldn't ever want to, but...”

“But the thought that you could...” Sparkle urged her on, watching Twilight intently as the slightest nudging sent her further and further down her path.

“The thought that I could was incredible!” Twilight’s resistance finally broke, the grin she’d been suppressing appearing full-force on her face. “I mean, not that I’d ever want to blow up Ponyville. Explosions and fireballs are novice stuff. Can you imagine casting one of Starswirl’s time spells with that much power behind it? Stuff history class, I’m sending all the little foals to see history themselves. Or a come-to-life spell? Applejack can sit and fume all she likes. I can save Equestria from manual labor forever!” She giggled outright now, a lively, eager sound. Twilight quickly turned to face Sparkle, staring at her head-on with wide, eager eyes. “What about the dreams? Do you have the dreams too?”

“Y-yes,” Sparkle answered, after a moment, pulling back from Twilight. “Yes. I have dreams too.”

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Twilight reached out to pull Sparkle into a hug. “Oh, Sparkle, this whole experience has been a nightmare, but it was all worth it just to get to say that to somepony. We’ve always needed to study to learn more about magic, and I won’t deny it, studying can be pretty fun, but I always felt like I had to act like I got a cutie mark for studying. But I didn’t! We didn’t! We got a cutie mark for magic—wonderful, terrible, beautiful magic we can use to make the world into whatever we want.” Her giggle came again, light and joyful, and she squeezed Sparkle tighter against her, nuzzling into her mane.

“I know that spell we should try to cast together,” she murmured, voice still energetic, but now quieter. Something deeper than simple enthusiasm ran through her words, and she squeezed Sparkle against her. “I know now, and it’s so obvious. We have to raise the sun. Just like Celestia did when we first saw her! You and I together, it’ll be wonderful! She’ll be so proud, and—”

“And...” Twilight trailed off, as Sparkle pushed her away, collecting her book and standing up. “What are you doing? Sparkle?” Her voice trembled, and she scrambled to her hooves as Sparkle moved to the door leading inside. “Sparkle? Did... did I say something wrong?”

“You’re insane,” Sparkle answered back, a tremble in her own voice, though a distinctly different kind. “I just watched you have a giggling power fantasy about destroying Ponyville, twisting time and space into a knot, and making the sun bounce around the sky like a pinball, and you honestly don’t understand what’s wrong with that.” Sparkle shuddered, shaking her head. “Don’t... just don’t say anything, Twilight. Don’t tell me you were joking.”

Twilight’s face contorted, working through three expressions in fewer seconds. Her eyes wide, her mouth falling open as she stepped away like she’d been struck. She tried to compose herself, mouth shutting and breath coming through clenched teeth as she struggled for words. Her facade broke quickly though, those neutral eyes narrowing. “You’re a liar. You knew what I meant. You feel the same way!”

“No, Twilight. I enjoy casting spells, but that was...” She shook her head, taking another step towards the door. “I... I need to go.”

“You can’t walk away from me!” Twilight bellowed, glaring and taking a step forward. Sparkle shrunk back from that advance, her heart racing as she hurried to the door. “I’m a part of you! This is a part of you!” Sparkle’s hooves shook as she wrenched the door open, fleeing inside and shutting it behind her.

Facing the shut door, Twilight’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We were getting along.”

Twilight sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut as her tears fell to the hard stone below her. There, they stuck, until enough water accumulated around them to pull them down the gentle slope, tiny rivers running into the pools around her and Luna. Both of them were long since damp from the steam, their coats faintly puffed up from the moisture, and it made Twilight seem younger than she was. Any of her friends would have been moved by the sight, Twilight’s image like that of a sobbing foal. Luna said nothing, both of her forehooves on the ground as she sat before Twilight.

“A-and then,” Twilight forced herself to continue, choking out the words, “I... I went back inside, but we didn’t say anything, a-and—”

Luna raised a hoof for silence. Twilight stopped talking, but could not stop the tears, and for several minutes, Luna allowed her to sniffle.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Twilight whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

“You desire me to absolve you of your guilt?” Luna asked, though it was not truly a question. “Then find your courage once more and speak truthfully, Twilight. Are you sorry that such darkness lies in your heart, or are you sorry that your friends and loved ones will judge you if they know?”

“I’m sorry I feel that way. I don't want to be a bad pony!” Twilight’s words were pleading, but Luna’s gaze grew cold and narrow as she spoke. “I... I don’t—” she stumbled in the face of the Princess’s hardening glare. “I don’t!” The Princess held her expression, saying nothing as Twilight grew increasingly tense. “Sparkle led me on. Even if I shouldn't have said what I said, I can still feel betrayed! I can still be worried my parents will find out, or that she’ll talk to Princess Celestia. There’s nothing wrong with that!” Twilight’s voice rose, but still, Luna said nothing.

“Everypony has some urges they shouldn't act on. There’s nothing wrong with that as long as you don’t do anything. I just found someone who understood me and I was speaking freely. She’s the one who kept egging me on!” Twilight’s breath came more quickly. “I don’t want to be a bad pony.” Luna said nothing, and Twilight rose to her hooves, shaking faintly. “Say something,” she demanded, taking a step forward, but Luna remained still and silent as a statue. “Say something!” Twilight screamed, her voice echoing in the tiny space, reverberating in both their ears.

“Fine!” said Twilight. “Sit there and act like you can judge me! Coming down here was a mistake. You think I’m a bad pony? I’m the Element of Magic! I’m the physical incarnation of the power of friendship and harmony, and you think you can tell me I’m a bad pony!? Who are you?” Twilight sneered at the Princess before her, leaning in close to look her in the eye. “Oh, right, you’re the pony who got herself banished to the moon for a thousand years over a sibling rivalry!”

Twilight, at last, provoked a reaction, a crack appearing in Luna’s impassive demeanor. She started for a moment, drawing a shaky breath and shutting her eyes to collect herself. “Hah!” Twilight shouted, victorious, but her smirk started to fade when she saw the Princess reach a hoof up to steady herself. “I... I mean... I just meant...” She searched for the words. Princess Luna’s struggle to hold her composure became increasingly obvious as she started to tear up, until she finally lowered her head to hide her eyes. Twilight’s face fell, and she stepped away from Luna.

“Oh. Oh, no. Princess, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it, I didn’t—” Twilight took a step forward, but Luna caught her with a hoof, and pushed her away.

“I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt me, Twilight.” Luna raised her head, releasing a breath and letting her impassive expression return. She wiped the traces of tears from her eyes, her calm mask restored save for traces of red in the corners of her eyes. “Just as I am sure you do not want to be a bad pony. You did not need the desire to hurt me, however. You simply needed to want to be angry.” Luna shook her head. “Did that feel good, Twilight?”

Twilight had no answer at first, looking down at her hooves. She shuddered, sinking to the floor and pulling her forelegs about herself. She looked like a stranger in her own coat, her jaw askance and eyes unfocused. “I feel sick.”

“Now, Twilight, you are sorry for what is in your heart, instead of simply being sorry you were caught.” Princess Luna drew a quiet breath, nodding to herself. “When you are ready, tell me what happened that evening.”

After taking a few minutes to collect herself, Twilight started again.

Twilight’s hooves beat a steady clip-clop against the stone as she made her way across the grounds of Canterlot Castle. Her exit from her tower coincided with the sunset, and she could barely spot Princess Celestia on the balcony of Canterlot’s tallest tower, reaching out to lower the sun. Her path didn’t take her to the Princesses’ wing of the palace, however. Instead, she angled her course towards the guest rooms and apartments that so often held foreign dignitaries, ponies of great renown, and on occasion, Twilight’s friends and family.

The dichotomy had not struck her as odd until that exact moment, but she shook her head to clear away that particular worry—she had other concerns now. She still didn’t know what she was going to tell her parents about Sparkle’s absence—how she was going to explain that their real daughter snubbed them and they got the copy. Her first impulse was to lie, to say that Sparkle wasn’t feeling well or that she thought it was important they meet with their parents individually, but lying to her parents felt wrong. She considered that she could be honest, and say that Sparkle was particularly troubled by these events, but then her parents would ask her just what events had troubled her, and that she didn’t want to explain.

She briefly considered faking her own death, and while that was the most palatable of all the options she came up with, it also felt wrong.

Her hooves passed from the path to the stone steps of the guest tower, and the tenor of her hoofbeats against the rock faintly changed. She had been careful to inquire in advance as to exactly what room Princess Celestia had made available, and her path was efficient and sure. When she reached the appointed room, however, she found the door ajar, and looking inside, she saw a pair of the palace serving staff rushing about an otherwise empty dining room. It was a grand, impressive chamber, a long wooden table running down its center, flanked by two fireplaces.

“Oh! Ms. Sparkle.” They each bowed to her, quick on their hooves. “You’re early. Your esteemed family has not yet arrived.” Twilight frowned at the improper use of her name, but didn’t bother correcting them, casting her gaze over the table. It was adorned as a palace should be, glittering with silver and crystal, and which only made Twilight’s frown tighten.

“This is a reunion—dinner with family—not a state occasion; this setup is too formal. Why are there three chairs on one side of the table but only two on the other?” She pointed out the asymmetry. The servants looked at each other, and then back to Twilight.

“There are five expected guests, Ms.Sparkle. Yourself, your parents, your brother and your sister.” One of them spoke with a hesitant voice, only to grind to a halt as Twilight shook her head.

“My sister won’t be joining us. Make the setup less formal and remove one of the places,” she ordered, tapping a hoof to her teeth as she considered the implications of such a change. “No, the table is too long. That would leave us too far apart if the chairs were evenly spaced, but if we crunch them up together, it’ll look like there’s that barrier between Shining, me, and mom and dad.”

“Uh...” The two unicorns glanced at each other once again. “We could bring in a shorter table if you—”

“Uh, are we even looking at the same room?” Twilight asked, making a wide gesture to the broad dining space around them. “The big table is obviously part of the room’s aesthetic. If we just shorten it, the room will look big and imposing. I don’t want my parents to feel unwelcome in the Princess's palace.” She shook her head firmly. “No, we’ll have to start over. We don’t have much time, but, a simple illusory wall spell will make the room seem cozier. We’ll need to alter the shape of the table too. I don’t want anypony feeling they can’t sit next to anypony else. Do you have a handsaw or something?” For the third time, the servants exchanged a glance, this one considerably longer than the two before it. “You know what? Nevermind. I’ll do it. You two can go.”

The servants were quick to accept their dismissal, scuttling from the room as fast as dignity would allow. Twilight paid little mind to them, turning to the matter at hoof. “Right! First, shorter room.” She lowered her head and focused, boiling waves in the air seeming to emerge from her horn. Halfway across the room, the air rippled like the surface of a pond, the dining room’s far wall seeming to draw closer, stopping just before the fireplaces and cutting the table off midway. “Next: shorter, position-optimized table.” With only four places to set, fully optimizing the seating arrangements didn’t take long. Twilight didn’t even need a quill and paper to double-check her math. A quick blast from her horn transformed the table, turning it from a long, rigid thing into a stubbier, rippled circle. Twilight hurriedly caught the dishware and crystal before it fell to the floor, levitating it over her shoulder as she approached. “Right. Last step. Less formal.”

It occurred to Twilight that she probably shouldn't have dismissed the servants, given that the closest she had ever come to setting a table was witnessing the process, but it seemed straightforward enough, and it was obvious to her eyes that their sense of aesthetics was atrocious. Everywhere she looked in this room, things were subtly off, and she worked with a growing speed to correct them. Table set, everything just so, decorations adjusted, fire lit, lighting tweaked. A hundred little things to make her family’s visit as perfect as it could be. She gritted her teeth, eyes darting back and forth as she worked. “This over here, that over there, Shining Armor likes to be next to dad, just a hair more elbow space for him—” Her pace intensified when she heard hoofsteps on the stairs outside, time running short. “More wood on the fire, adjust the lighting, seats pushed in just so...”

“Perfect!” she proclaimed, with a sigh of relief, finishing just as the door behind her swung open.

“Twilie!” Twilight Velvet’s voice carried bright and clear through the recently shrunken space, and Twilight turned just in time for the older mare to hold her to her chest, wrapping her forehooves around Twilight daughter in a tight hug. Twilight Velvet looked the same as she always did—her distinctive purple-and-white mane closely cropped, and curled at the base. Like many ponies, Twilight had a view of her parents that was immortal and unchanging, and an embarrassed smile rose to her face when her mother’s hug reminded Twilight that she was the taller of the two. Not far behind Twilight Velvet came Shining Armor and Crescent Moon, Twilight’s brother and father pulling apart as though they had been having a private discussion.

“It is Twilight, isn’t it? It’s awful. I can’t tell my own daughters apart.” Twilight Velvet leaned forward to carefully Twilight’s face carefully, probing it for some left-right asymmetry she could exploit.

“Yes, mom, it’s Twilight,” Shining Armor supplied, stepping up to Twilight and ruffling her hair. Crescent Moon wasn’t far behind, Twilight thoroughly surrounded as he put a leg around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m been so worried about you, Twilie. Princess Celestia just told us there had been some kind of incident and you were going to need us soon, but she refused to tell us what happened, and your brother was no help!” Twilight Velvet gave a brief but intense frown, and Shining Armor laughed as she punched his shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you’re alright. The whole trip home, I thought you were turning to stone or something!”

“You didn’t tell them anything?” Twilight asked, puzzled as she glanced to Shining Armor.

“Your brother said it was personal, and that you and Sparkle should tell us yourselves,” Crescent Moon interjected, glancing at the table and counting the number of places. “Where is your sister, anyway?”

“She... um.” Twilight froze on the spot, eyes darting between the three ponies around her. “That is, she, uh... Well, really, what I’m trying to say is that she, um...”

“Yes?” Twilight Velvet leaned in closer, intensely hanging on Twilight’s every word and expression. Twilight’s grimace only grew more intense as she tried to think of something, anything to say, her gaze looking to any of the ponies around her for some sign of help.

“That is... she... I mean...” Twilight swallowed, her breath coming fast. “She has cutie pox!” she burst out, stammering as she quickly followed on her statement. “A-a terrible case, that’s all. She’s been paragliding and-and pole vaulting and playing the cello all day. It’s all our friends can do to hold her down. She just needs a day or two to get over it. Alone! She’s... very contagious. She just needs a day or two, alone, to get over her cutie pox. Which is why she couldn't be here.”

Twilight’s mother leaned in sharply, peering at her, and the closer she leaned, the stiffer and wider Twilight’s smile became. The room felt hot to Twilight, like she could physically feel the stares of her family, and a faint bead of sweat rolled down her face.

“Well, okay then!” Twilight Velvet chirped, letting go of Twilight and taking a quick step back. Twilight nearly fainted with the shock, her legs unsteady.

“And here I was worried it was something serious.” Crescent Moon nudged his wife with an elbow, the two of them sharing a brief, inscrutable look.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for letting you worry,” Shining Armor added, but his tone was less amused, and when Twilight looked up at him, he shook his head.

“She’ll be... fine, I’m sure.” Twilight waved the matter along, eager to change subjects. “I’m sorry you had to rush back to Canterlot. I didn’t know you were traveling.”

“Don’t be silly, Twilie. You know we’re always happy to see you,” her mother assured her, tone light and friendly, like nothing more was amiss in the world. “You always make such a big production out of our visits. It’s embarrassing.”

“I do not make a big production out of your visits,” Twilight tried to insist, with a dismissive wave of her hoof, but Velvet was having none of it.

“You redecorated the entire dining room yourself,” she countered. Twilight went stiff, as she looked wildly over her work to see where she’d made the mistake.

“How did you know that?” she demanded, but when she whirled back to look at her mother, Velvet only smiled, walking past Twilight to her spot at the table.

“Mother's intuition,” she answered, amused, her head raised high as Twilight give her an incredulous stare.

Shining Armor tried not to roll his eyes as he moved to his own place, recognizing it out of Twilight’s arrangement. Of all of them, it was Crescent Moon who took pity on his daughter, leaning over to her and pointing to the table with a murmur of, “Everything is backwards.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide, a hot flush rising to her cheeks. Her eyes darted to the table, the placements, the decorations, the orientation of the table, the illusionary wall she conjured. Every place she had found one of the servants’ mistakes and “corrected” it, the new version was oriented the other way, the room’s decorations a perfect mirror image of what they should be. “I’m sorry! I’ll fix it, I’ll—”

“Don’t be silly, Twilight! And shame on you for telling her, dear. It’s fine just the way it is,” Velvet insisted, taking her seat as Shining Armor and Crescent Moon did the same. Twilight hovered over the table, looking at her changes to the arrangements, teeth set as she considered them.

“It’ll only take a second to fix,” she tried to insist, flustered. “A simple mirror image spell will—”

“Twilight.” Velvet tapped the table sharply. “Sit.”

“But I...” Twilight looked to her mother with wide eyes, and her mother answered with narrowed ones. The more Twilight leaned her horn towards the decorations, the more intense Velvet’s stare became. Twilight’s teeth set on edge as she tried to break that stare, not quite daring to turn away. Shining Armor and Crescent Moon looked between the two, sharing their own worried glance across the table.

Finally, Twilight blinked, and both of them heaved a sigh of relief. “Fine,” she muttered, Velvet smiling as Twilight took her seat at the table.

“So, tell us what happened to you since we last visited,” Velvet urged, looking toward her daughter. “I want to hear everything.”

“Did you tell her everything?” Luna inquired, reaching out so she could support Twilight. Twilight shrunk away from her hoof, however, curling up alone on the stone.

“No.” She drew a breath. “No. I didn’t. I told them about things that don’t matter—the training I did with Rainbow Dash, little things I did with the others in Ponyville. When I ran out of things that just didn’t matter, I started making things up. I told them I’d kept busy helping Applejack on the farm and that Fluttershy had been bitten by one of her pet flesh-eating ice spiders.”

“Hardly a plausible falsehood,” Luna observed, with a raised eyebrow.

“I know—Fluttershy’s pets would never bite her.” Twilight shook her head. “They knew all along though, and it was perfectly obvious they knew. I just didn’t know what else to say. I couldn't tell them the truth and I had to say something.” She shut her eyes and let out a quiet sigh, but kept her head high. “We spent the entire evening saying nothing. Just... nothing, and then it was time to go.”

“That was but a few hours ago, Twilight, and when you arrived here, you seemed under the impression that your day had ended well,” Luna pointed out. “What changed?”

“I guess it was when we saw... It was when we turned to go. Shining and Mom and Dad and I. We were walking across the palace grounds, back to the tower. Dad promised they wouldn't bother Sparkle, but he still insisted they walk me home. We were walking by the palace and... through one of the windows, we could see Princess Celestia and Sparkle. Just talking.” Twilight drew a slow breath, letting it out through her teeth.

“This event obviously troubled you greatly, and it has angered you in this very conversation. How did it make your evening end well?” Luna inquired gently.

“I did everything wrong today. The decorations, what I said. I wasn’t their daughter or Shining’s sister. I was just a guest who looked like her. I knew Mom saw Sparkle as well, and I thought she’d be crushed. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? She looked at me, and I had to tell her why I was with her and Sparkle wasn’t. I had to tell her something.” Twilight sniffled, but kept her composure even in the face of mounting strain.

“But I don’t know why she wouldn't come. I started to stammer again, to make something up, and mom just... She gave me a hug, and said she was proud of me, and I asked if I could meet her again tomorrow. Just to talk.” Twilight paused for a moment, a breath going in and out. “I told her that there were things I couldn't talk about with her, but that I wanted to, and... and that was it. She said she’d always make time for me, and we went home. They left me at the door. I felt like I was part of the family again.”

Twilight’s voice dropped slowly, and her head with it. “But I wasn’t, Princess. I wasn’t part of the family. I wasn’t their daughter. I’m a fraud. They don’t even know me. If my family knew what I’ve told you here, if Princess Celestia knew what I’ve told you... they’d all hate me. They’d never want to see me again.”

For a time, Luna said nothing, simply considering Twilight’s words and manner. Twilight grew stiffer as the silence grew longer, curling tighter about herself and sniffling, but after only a few minutes, Luna gave a careful, considered nod. “Do you think you Elements of Harmony can be tricked, Twilight?” Twilight seemed to have no answer to that, and Luna reached out to her, tilting her head up.

“If you truly wished harm on another pony, you could not have become the Element of Magic, Twilight. The lure to power is strong in you, but that does not make you evil. It is only recently that the strain of facing your double has caused this to fester in your heart.” Her voice was reassuring and gentle, but tears formed in Twilight’s eyes.

“How can you say that, Princess?” She asked, her voice ragged. “After I told you—”

“You do not know what my sister forgave when she accepted me again, Twilight. I will follow her example. You have done well tonight. I know that telling me what you did brought you great pain, but you are stronger for it.” She waited a moment for the words to sink in and then rose, signaling that their meeting was done. “Now, you must rest. It is late, and you are too tired to do much more than brood on the day’s events, which will help no one. Sleep, and in the morning, all will be clearer.”

“Yes...” Twilight hesitated, but she forced her tears to stop, squeezing her eyes shut. “Yes, Princess.” Twilight rose, and together, the two turned to move out of the little underground space.

“One other question, Twilight. Did you and Sparkle discuss this matter at all after she finished speaking with my sister?” Luna’s eyes were on Twilight, alert for subtle body language, but Twilight simply shook her head.

“No, she didn’t come back to the tower until quite late. She said she went to reflect on things in the statue garden.”

Chapter 9

“Discord,” Sparkle murmured, her voice ragged, facing the petrified form of the creature that had once held all of Equestria in his sway. From within the statue oozed Discord’s spiritual form—insubstantial and invisible to all but his summoner. He floated there for a moment, considering her expression and tone with a thoughtful glance.

“Sparkle,” he answered after a moment, curling up against the statue’s base before her. His tone was calculating, thoughtful and slow, letting Sparkle take the lead.

“I am going to ask you a question,” she said. After a moment, she glanced up at him, her eyes tired and bloodshot and her face stained by the remains of tears. “And I would like you to answer it honestly.”

“We desire many things, Sparkle—some of them we even receive,” Discord said in reply, making a bored circling gesture in the air with his lion’s paw. “Ask, and we’ll see if you’re so fortunate.”

“Has Princess Celestia ever gone through what I’m going through now?” Sparkle raised her head to look Discord in the eye, his eagle’s claw reaching up to stroke his chin.

“Well now, isn’t that interesting?” he asked, rising from where he sat to pace around Sparkle. A snap of his fingers conjured a pipe to his lips, from which a stream of bubbles flew as he thought. “There’s a mystery here.”

“It’s a yes-or-no question.” Sparkle answered, tone flat and worn. “If you don’t know the answer—”

“Of course I know the answer, Sparkle,” Discord spoke, letting out a sharp snort. “But the answer, much like the question, is boring and straightforward. What’s interesting is trying to figure out what you’ll do once I tell you.” He removed the bubble pipe from his mouth as his pacing arc reached Sparkle’s front again, gesturing at her eyes with the mouthpiece. “Evening chat didn’t go well, I take it?”

“That’s none of your—”

“So if I say, ‘no...’” Discord bent down to lean in close to Sparkle. “If I tell you that Celestia has never been through what you’re going through now, you’ll, what, take that as proof that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about?” Discord’s tone was light and curious, but a chuckle soon followed his words, and with it came a sneer. “Maybe feel vindicated that she had no right to say all those mean things that made you cry? No. That part of the mystery is easily solved. What remains to wonder then, is what you’ll do—” Discord leaned back away from her, using his superior height to stare down at her from above “—if the answer is yes.”

“I’m not in the mood for these games, Discord,” Sparkle sighed, letting her rear slide to the ground.

“Moods are things for cattle and loveplay!” Discord replied sharply, Sparkle looking up faintly at the strange reply. “Get it?” He grinned, nudging her with an elbow, but Sparkle just tilted her head, and he sighed. “Of course you don’t—you ponies are so depressingly four-dimensional. The point is, this is your life, Sparkle. So tell me, what will you do if the answer is yes?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “I just... I needed to ask.”

“You shouldn't ask a question if you aren’t prepared to know the answer.” Discord let out a dark chuckle. “So I’ll make you a promise. When you know what you’ll do if the answer is yes, I’ll tell you if it is not. Cross my heart and hope to fly!” He extended a paw dramatically, turning up his head and crossing his heart with a long diagonal swipe.

“And how am I supposed to figure that out?” Sparkle asked, lowering her gaze, her ears folding back against her head.

Discord gave an impatient sigh, rolling his eyes as he reached a paw under Sparkle’s chin to tilt her head back up. “Talk through it, my dear,” he said, with a grumble. “The last time we spoke, you didn’t seem to be in nearly such a mood. What happened to leave you in this state?”

Sparkle drew a breath. “Well...”

“I said don’t look at me that way!” Twilight hissed, leaning in close to Sparkle. Twilight was glaring—but it wasn’t the sort of look where her eyes simply narrowed. It was an altogether different sort of glare, the sort where her eyes somehow got wider, straight and intense as her face seemed to narrow around them. Sparkle’s heart started to race. Her breath came fast as she scrambled away, the force of those eyes alone backing her up against the railing behind her.

Twilight drew in a sharp breath when she saw she had backed Sparkle up against the rail, the glare vanishing from her face.“I’m sorry!” she pleaded, but still, Sparkle could not look away from her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Oh Celestia, I didn’t mean to—” She reached out to help Sparkle, but Sparkle quickly scrambled away towards the door.

“It’s fine, really,” Sparkle answered, too quickly, her voice trembling as she moved for the door. She tried to make her actions seem casual, but her legs, her neck, her whole body felt tense and stiff as she made for the doorway. She fumbled with the handle, her motions growing increasingly quick, until the doorway finally came open and she rushed inside, pulling it shut behind her save for a crack. She turned back to look at Twilight, peering out at her twin. “Why don’t you go see about the others? They should be back soon.”

“Y-yeah.” Twilight weakly nodded, glancing up at Sparkle with a hesitant eye as her ears folded back and her tail drooped. “I’m so sorry, Sparkle. I didn’t mean—”

Sparkle shut the door. For a few long seconds, she held her breath. Her body held the door shut, and slowly, one trembling hoof reached down to fumble for the latch. Finally, when the door locked, she let out her held breath and slumped against the floor. Her forehooves shook under her, but she forced herself to take long, slow breaths. It was a few minutes before she could stand, but then she turned, trotting up the ramp that circled through the tower’s interior.

“Spike!” She called out. “Spiiike!” She raised her voice so that he could hear her even if he was in the tower’s upper reaches, but she found him not a full pace past the top of the stairs, sitting just to the left. “Spike!” She repeated itself, trotting up to him when he didn’t answer. “Spike, are you okay?”

“Um... yeah.” He sat up, turning to look at her, though his motions were oddly subdued. “Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted. I can go straighten up the library.” He rose, moving towards the shelves, Sparkle glancing between him and the front door she’d stood by just a moment ago.

“No, wait,” she said, stepping after Spike before he could get too far away, “let’s play a game.”

“A... game?” he asked uncertainly, stopping and turning back to glance at her.

“Sure!” she answered, forcing a casual cheer into her voice. “It’ll take all day to get this place back in order. We need something to do while we clean it all up—we’ll play make-believe.” Spike crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, so Sparkle trotted up to the shelves, her horn glowing as she pulled the books off for sorting. “We’re back in Ponyville and it’s a normal—” she glanced for a calendar “—tuesday. What are we doing today, right now?”

“Uh, on a Tuesday?” Spike scratched his head as Sparkle started piling up the books in neat stacks to go through them one by one. “Well, right now, I guess we’d be doing the morning errands.”

“Okay! Like what?” Sparkle asked, her tone upbeat as she pushed the stacks around, sliding the shelf ladders to the side to get at the other waiting tomes. “What specifically might we be doing?”

“Um... we’d be going to Mrs. Cake’s to pick up those cupcakes you like?” Spike hazarded, his tone uncertain, but Sparkle rewarded him with a nod and a smile.

“Mmhmm. And today’s a special day, because she made one with gems, just for you. I’m not too sure though—treats like that are only for dragons who have done all their chores.” Sparkle finished with the shelf, levitating the book piles into a neat grid, to be sorted one at a time. “Have you done all your chores, this Tuesday morning?”

“Um... I guess?” Spike’s face and posture were stiff and uncertain, but he expression relaxed as Sparkle shoved the first stack of books his way, taking one to sort herself. “Oh... I get it. Well, I guess I do still have a few more chores to do.”

“Okay, so we trot home to the library, and I put the cupcake on top of the fridge for when you’re done,” Twilight said, looking at the first of the books in her pile and slotting it back in its appropriate place on the shelf. “And you’re doing your chores just like you should when... something interrupts you! What is it?”

“Oh, um... the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Spike smiled a little as he too set into his pile of books, scrambling up a ladder to place one high on the shelf where it belonged.

“Okay. So you’re trying to do your chores when the Cutie Mark Crusaders come in, and they tell you that they need your biggest guides on explosives, butterfly taming, and the history of stitching—”

A loud, grinding sound interrupted Sparkle, and she looked up from her storytelling to see Discord slumped backwards over his own statue. His eyes were shut, a trail of drool running from the corner of his mouth, and above him floated a translucent log, a crosscut saw running through it every time he took a breath.

“Well I’m sorry if I’m boring you!” Sparkle snapped, glaring up at the spirit. He snapped to life with a shout, and when he shook his head, the log disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Oh, hardly. This is fascinating,” Discord insisted, rolling his eyes. “I had no idea you found interactions with Spike so disturbing and unsettling. Or at least, I assume you do, since I asked you why you were upset.”

“Fine, whatever!” Sparkle snapped, scuffing a hoof on the ground as she glared up at Discord. “Princess Celestia and I had an argument, if you care so much. We—”

“No no.” Discord held up a paw for silence, momentarily shutting his eyes and giving a faint shake of his head. “Now I’m curious. Why did you chose that particular opener?”

“It’s the first thing we did today,” Sparkle shot back, her tone taking on a defensive set as her mouth twisted into a frown. Discord just smiled though, sliding from his perch to float around Sparkle and forcing her to turn to follow him.

“Hardly. Or am I to believe that not a thing leading up to that argument was the slightest bit relevant?” He glanced at Sparkle, meeting her gaze, and for a moment, they locked eyes in silence. She glared, he chuckled, and he floated back in front of her. “I have a theory as to why you started where you did,” he said airily, pressing a paw to his chest and raising his head high. “But I’ll be fair. Give you a chance to say it first.”

Sparkle mumbled something, her gaze flicking between Discord and the ground, her breath coming in uncertain starts. “What was that?” Discord asked, holding his paw up to the side of his head and cupping it as though to hear better. Sparkle mumbled something again, her gaze sinking to the earth, with only occasional glances at the spirit. “I don’t think I quite caught that?” He leaned in close, Sparkle’s gaze going to her front hooves, and staying there. “One more time.”

“It was just where I felt like starting,” Sparkle mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

“Because it makes for the most gripping drama?” Discord asked, giving a low chuckle. With a snap of his claw, he summoned a bowl of popcorn and a glass of chocolate milk, stretching himself out in the air as if he were lying on the ground, his head propped up on his elbows. “So, go on. We were just getting to the point where the sweet and innocent Sparkle was protecting Spike from the depravations of that awful brute.”

“Shut up! This is all your fault!” Sparkle’s head shot up, a new glare in her eyes, sharper than its predecessor. “You’re the one who told me not to go see my parents, and then I didn’t and everything went wrong!”

“Oh, is that where things started going wrong?” Discord asked, with a faint wave of his paw. “The rest of your day was all hugs and harmony and brushable dolls, was it?”

“Yes, actually, it was!” Sparkle insisted, with a stomp of her hoof. “I spent time with Spike, I made up with Rainbow Dash, and everything was fine!”

“You and the featherbrain, mmm?” He raised his claw to his chin, tapping his teeth gently. “Well, go on then.”

“What? What do you care?” Sparkle demanded, but Discord only giggled, raising his palms to her.

“Just trying to understand your mindset. Please, tell!” he encouraged, his tone turning soft and his smile reassuring. Sparkle gave him a suspicious, narrow glance, pausing to think for several long seconds.

“Fine,” she finally answered, wary. “Twilight and Rainbow Dash came back later that afternoon with the others. Rainbow Dash... she tried to apologize.” Sparkle sighed and shook her head. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk until later that afternoon though—”

“Brown?” Rarity asked, raising a single eyebrow as she glanced up at Pinkie Pie. “Really?” She levitated the bottle of hair dye away from her, putting it back in the cabinet with the others. “I know the idea is to make Sparkle stand out, but let’s not beg for attention, shall we?” Sparkle sat between Rarity and Pinkie Pie, her expression flat and her attention focused entirely on her book. Her eyes scanned left and right as she read down the pages, ignoring the other two ponies and the instruments of beautification floating around her.

“I think she’d look good in brown!” Pinkie Pie insisted, sliding up next to Sparkle and fluffing her mane. “All edgy and punk!”

“That may be, Pinkie Pie, but somehow I can’t help but think that Sparkle’s interests might be better served by a nice, soothing electric blue,” Rarity said, levitating another bottle from the cabinet, letting it join the profusion of combs, brushes, and other tools floating around Sparkle’s head. “What do you think, dear?”

“Blue is fine,” Sparkle said without looking up from her book. “Just don’t make me look like Trixie.”

“Well, I hardly think you’re in any danger of that,” Rarity said, turning her nose up faintly at the very idea. “Now, Pinkie Pie, if you would be so kind as to—” A sharp gust of wind ruffled Sparkle’s hair, making the bottles of makeup on the cabinet rattle and clink together. Rarity turned an annoyed eye upwards, soon spotting the source of the disturbance. “Rainbow Dash!” she called, the pegasus one floor above them, doing loops and twirls in front of the massive main window. “Must you do that inside?”

“Uh, yeah. Court order, remember?” Rainbow Dash answered, executing a tight twist through the air as she spoke, rolling her barrel even as she rolled her eyes. “No fancy flying in Canterlot’s airspace.”

“I don’t think the justice meant that you should do it indoors, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, a grumble in her throat as Rainbow’s sharp turns and twists generated another gust of wind in the confined space.

“Well I’m not going to be grounded for nearly two months! What if I get out of shape?” Rainbow Dash insisted, shooting through the air to hover in front of Rarity and Pinkie Pie. Her sudden arrival and deceleration created yet another gust, this one washing sharply over Rarity.

“Oooh, can I pick your new shape? I vote for a hexagon!” Pinkie Pie volunteered before Rarity could say anything, though the growing grimace on her face spoke volumes on its own. Rarity lashed her tail, opening her mouth to give Rainbow Dash a piece of her mind, only to be interrupted before she could even begin.

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Sparkle said, shutting her book. “I wasn’t really that into the whole hair dye thing anyway.” Sparkle rose from where she sat, turning to the ramp leading up the building’s upper level. “I’m going to head upstairs. I could use some time alone.” Sparkle trotted away before they could answer, Rarity and Pinkie Pie exchanging uncertain looks in her wake.

Sparkle made her way upstairs, to the highest level of the library, and from there out to the roof. The sharp winds of Canterlot whipped around her as she stepped outside, but she showed little reaction. Her mane blew and lashed in the wind as she made her way to the roof’s center, settling down on the ground and opening her book again. A gale ruffled the pages, and she sighed, her horn coming alight as she projected a forcefield around the tome. There she stayed for several minutes, until she heard the door open behind her.

“Uh... hi,” Rainbow Dash said, poking her head outside. She floated out onto the roof, her wings gently beating. She nudged the door shut behind her with a hoof, drifting up to Sparkle. Her eyes were uncertain, flicking back and forth over Sparkle’s body and face, and she bit her lip gently. “So uh... that forcefield thing is cool. I guess it gets pretty windy out here.”

“Yes. You might want to land,” Sparkle advised, and Rainbow Dash set her hooves down to the rooftop.

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Rainbow Dash said, reaching up to scratch the back of her head. “So um... you wanna hear about the cool loop I did?”

“Rainbow Dash...” Sparkle sighed, shutting her eyes. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really. But this isn’t helping. Please, leave me alone.” She gave a faint shake of her head, opening her eyes again to go back to her book. No answer came her way, and so she thought Rainbow Dash had gone, until she heard the flutter of wings and felt the pegasus settle down beside her.

“I said go away, Rainbow Dash,” Sparkle spoke curtly, her eyes boring into the page.

“Look, Sparkle. I know you probably aren’t happy to see me right now...” Rainbow Dash scraped at the floor with her forehooves, glancing at Sparkle. “But, you know. If things were different, I bet you’d want us to make up.”

“And what is that...” Sparkle started to ask. Her face tightened into a frown, her tail sharply lashing back and forth. “Oh. I get it.”

“It’s not like that!” Rainbow Dash was quick to insist, her voice rising as her tone turned defensive. But she pulled away as Sparkle sharply turned her head to glare right in Rainbow Dash’s eyes, leaning in so close their noses almost touched.

“Then what is it like!?” Sparkle demanded, her shout ringing in Rainbow Dash’s ears. “Because where I’m sitting, it looks an awful lot like you’re only ‘sorry’ because Twilight told you to be.”

“Well, I mean. Kind of.” Rainbow Dash answered, leaning her head back. “But not in a bad way!” she added quickly, a nervous, transparently false smile on her face that grew stiffer and stiffer the more Sparkle glared.

“Then what way, huh? Tell me!” Sparkle all but snarled, her face twisted into a grimace, so close that Rainbow Dash could feel Sparke’s breath on her face.

“Um...” Rainbow Dash stammered, gesturing in Sparkle’s general direction. “Could you stop, um. With the, ah. Crazy eyes?” Rainbow Dash laughed nervously, and Sparkle slowly drew away, her grimace returning to a soft frown as her gaze went down to her hooves. “Sorry. You’ve just got a really intense stare, you know?”

“Go away, Rainbow Dash,” Sparkle snapped, though her voice lacked the sudden anger of a moment ago, drawing its strength from a cooler fire. She just looked down at her hooves and then away, shutting her eyes. “I get it, you know? You like her, and she wants us to get along, so you’re here. It’s fine, you can just go and—”

“You know what the worst part is about all this?” Rainbow Dash said, raising her voice just slightly so she could clearly talk over Sparkle. “Every time I see the main entrance to the castle, it makes me think of the Grand Galloping Gala and that doughnut shop we went to after, but now you’re confined to the castle grounds.” Sparkle opened her eyes, though she did not look up, Rainbow Dash flapping her wings thoughtfully. “I mean, I guess I could pick some up after my community service and bring them here, but it’s not the same, you know?” Sparkle didn’t answer.

“I mean...” Rainbow Dash said, after only a brief pause. “It would probably taste the same. But these things are really circumstantial. Like, the Cakes’ cake that one time was amazing? But honestly, it wouldn't have been half as good if I didn’t have to steal it. It’s the same with the doughnuts. I remember them being delicious, but I bet if I got them now, they’d just be kind of okay. They need you guys and a table and us reminiscing about a bad day to be right.” Rainbow Dash glanced over at Sparkle, but still, Sparkle said nothing.

“I mean, bad days we’ve got.” Rainbow Dash admitted. “And you do have some tables, but it just doesn’t feel the same. I mean, maybe we could meet up in the theatre, since that’s on the grounds, and I really did like doing the Hearth’s Warming Eve pa—”

“I get it, Rainbow Dash,” Sparkle murmured. The anger had faded from her tone, and her shoulders slumped as she slowly lowered her head. “You don’t have to run through everything we’ve done together since we met.”

“Well hey, that’s what you did for me when you saved us from Dis—”

“Seriously, I get it,” Sparkle insisted, her voice rising for a moment, but that growing temper died before it could fully mature, and her shoulders slumped.

“Sorry.” Rainbow Dash chuckled awkwardly, tapping her forehooves together before her.

“It’s... okay. It’s fine.” Sparkle murmured, lowering her head down into her hooves. The wind picked up around them, chill and fast. Sparkle had long since stopped maintaining her forcefield, distracted by the conversation, and the pages of her book whipped forward in the gale until the book snapped itself shut. She didn’t react, staring out across Canterlot’s streets and towers. “It’s fine,” she repeated, barely whispering the words, shivering in the cold air. For what seemed to her a long time, she just lay there in wind, but then she heard a rustling, and something wrapped around her—Rainbow Dash’s wing.

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Rainbow Dash murmured, pulling Sparkle in against her, her wing around the other pony’s shoulder. “I mean...” Rainbow Dash drew a breath, hesitating for a moment before she went on. “I get that you feel responsible for us since you’re kind of our leader, but that doesn’t mean it’s your job to make everything fine all the time. You can say that things are a little messed up right now.”

“No, Rainbow... that’s not what I mean,” Sparkle murmured, but Rainbow cut her off before she could say any more, giving her a tight squeeze around the shoulders.

“Yeah, it is,” she insisted. “I know you. You think everything has to be perfect all the time to the point that you drive yourself crazy. I mean, you’re fine? I’m not even the one who got copied and I’m not fine! C’mon. You’re like, my best friend, you’ve saved me more times than I can count, and I got my head so turned around I was calling you a toxic, spineless emotional parasite.”

“You never called me toxic or spineless,” Sparkle said.

“Oh, that’s good. Because I was totally thinking it,” Rainbow Dash said, with some measure of relief.

For a second, Sparkle didn’t know what to do, and then she just started laughing—a quiet chuckle. “Quit while you’re ahead, RD,” she said, shutting her eyes again as she laid her head against her hooves. Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to speak, but after a few moments, shut it without a word. She tucked her wing in against Sparkle to shield her against the wind and the cold, and Sparkle leaned against Rainbow Dash in turn. Sparkle could feel Rainbow Dash’s every breath as their sides pressed together, and when she raised an ear, she could hear the pegasus’s heart pounding inside her chest. Something about the sound made her laugh again, and she tucked her head in against Rainbow Dash’s chest. There they sat in silence for some time, until Rainbow Dash finally spoke.

“So, are we like, having a moment?” she asked uncertainly, and Sparkle smiled.

“Yes, we are having a moment.” Sparkle’s tone was peaceful, almost sleepy. “It’ll last longer if you don’t talk.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Rainbow Dash whispered, her body stiff and tone hesitant. That just made Sparkle smile more, and when Rainbow Dash awkwardly tried to lay her head down over the unicorn’s, Sparkle giggled outright.

“No no. Moment’s passed,” she said, slowly sitting up. “I do feel a lot better though. Thanks, RD.” Her gaze met Rainbow Dash’s, and they both smiled. After a moment though, Rainbow Dash’s smile flickered, and she averted her gaze, sending it back down to the stone floor.

“What’s wrong?” Sparkle asked, a hint of worry seeping into her tone as she leaned her head around to find Rainbow Dash’s gaze.

“Nothing. It’s fine,” Rainbow Dash answered reflexively, her words earning her a sharp jab in the side from Sparkle’s hoof. “Ow! What was that for?”

“What did you just tell me about saying everything was fine?” Sparkle demanded, and though there was no true anger in her words, her tone was firm and her voice elevated. Rainbow Dash looked at Sparkle and then back to the floor, but after a moment, she answered.

“It’s just... this is kind of a personal moment. Like, between the two of us. But I keep thinking about...” She tapped the floor with her hoof, her wings fluttering awkwardly. “It’s just, with our talk this morning...”

“We talked this morning?” Sparkle asked, confused.

Rainbow Dash didn’t answer at first, just scuffing at the floor with her hoof. “No.”

For a moment, Sparkle looked only more confused, but then it hit her, and her face fell. “Oh.” She turned away, shutting her eyes for a second. She drew a deep breath, her barrel tense, and let it out between clenched teeth. “Well that’s disappointing.”

“I’m sorry, Sparkle.” Rainbow Dash insisted, the pace of her words accelerating as her tone grew more worried. “I just thought—”

“Shh.” Sparkle reached out, touching a hoof to Rainbow Dash’s muzzle. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’d rather you tell me now than I find out later—the last thing we need right now is more drama. It’s just...” She sighed. “It’s just disappointing. I’d like to be alone now, Rainbow. I mean it this time.”

“Y-yeah. Sure.” Rainbow agreed, rising back to her hooves and folding her wing against her side. “Are we... cool, though? Like, really?”

“Yeah. We’re cool.” Sparkle answered, and after a moment, she reached out with both forehooves, pulling Rainbow Dash down into a hug. “Like really.”

Rainbow Dash gave a hesitant smile, turned, and trotted back inside.

“Mmmhmm.” Discord leaned back, reaching up to stroke the whispy white beard that hung below his chin. At some point during Sparkle’s explanation, he had conjured a pad and pen for himself, a set of wireframe glasses, and a truly luxurious-looking armchair in which he reclined. “And how long have you had these feelings for Rainbow Dash?”

“Well, since we met, really,” Sparkle said, and Discord scribbled furiously in his notebook.

“I see,” he murmured, with a particularly thoughtful stroke of his beard. “Do you ever find you have difficulty expressing these thoughts?”

“Sometimes, I guess. Particularly now,” Sparkle pursed her lips for a moment, letting out a breath. “And Rainbow Dash is uncomfortable with her softer side even at the best of times. It doesn’t really matter much, though. I mean, everypony knows. It’s kind of obvious.”

“So then you would say you’re comfortable with your present circumstances?” Discord asked, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“Yeah. I mean, it feels weird to say, particularly given how much she drives me crazy, but Rainbow Dash really is my truest friend. She’s the Element of Loyalty for a reason, and...” Sparkle fell silent, surprised by the sudden crunching sound as Discord balled up his pen and pad, tossing them over his shoulder with an angry huff. “And, you don’t care about any of that.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Just when it seemed this was going to get remotely interesting.” Discord rolled his eyes, and with a snap of his fingers dismissed glasses and chair alike, leaving him floating in midair. “But, fine, you made up with Rainbow Dash. Problem solved. We can all go home happy.”

“Not really, no,” Sparkle murmured. “I mean it’s better. I understand why my friends have problems... choosing between us. But, Twilight.” Sparkle tucked her forehooves in against each other, scraping at the ground. “She... said things to me today. On the rooftop.”

“Things, mmm? Well that does sound serious,” Discord answered, adding faint tsk to the end of his words. “Next, she might even say stuff, and then where would we be?”

“You don’t understand,” Sparkle insisted, turning to look up at the spirit above her. “These were horrible things. Things about us and magic and—”

“And fireballs and time travel and sunrises, oh my!” Discord clapped his forelimbs to either side of his face, assuming a mock expression of shock. He let it hang for a moment before he laughed, relaxing his pose as Sparkle looked up at him with narrow, uncertain eyes. “Please. I’m the spirit of all chaos and disharmony. Do you really think it’s news to me that power can make otherwise reasonable ponies go a bit loopy? I knew that about you the first time we met, and frankly, it’s not where I see your story going.” Discord leaned back in midair, stretching out and lying back, his paw behind his head. “So, you were getting to the part where it all went wrong.”

“No, wait, you can’t just say that.” Sparkle’s voice rose faintly, her tone insistent as she looked up at Discord’s hovering form. “What do you mean you knew that about me? Knew what? What do you see in my heart?” She rose to her hooves quickly, as though to physically intimidate the spirit before her—but Discord just chuckled, pinching two claws together and drawing them across his lips. “Tell me!” she snapped, but her words provoked no reaction from the creature in front of her, and after a few long moments of silence, Sparkle settled back to the ground with an angry snort.

“Where it all went wrong then,” Discord repeated, turning his head to look down at her.

Sparkle didn’t say anything for a moment, holding the spirit’s gaze, but finally she drew a breath to start. “It went wrong in a lot of places, Discord, starting with when I took your advice—”

“Well, I’m off,” Twilight said, stepping up to Sparkle. She looked much as she always did, but a keen observer would have detected the little changes: that her coat was a touch shiner, her mane smoother and better brushed, and just the faintest hint of purple brushed into her cheeks. It was Rarity’s work, and well done—seen yet invisible. Rarity wasn’t far away, and neither were the others, the Bearers of the Elements loosely scattered over the tower’s interior. Sparkle herself sat on one of the couches on the ground floor, a book propped against the cushions. She looked up at Twilight’s approach, and nodded to her.

“Say hello to mom and dad for me,” she answered, before turning back to her book. Twilight didn’t move, and for a time, silence hung in the air, until Sparkle finally looked back at her. “Yes?”

“You can still change your mind. I’m sure Rarity can clean you up in time for us to go,” Twilight said, matching Sparkle’s gaze. Around them, five ponies and at least one dragon suddenly found themselves distracted from what they’d been doing: Spike glanced down from upstairs, Rarity discreetly lowered her book, Rainbow Dash’s aerial acrobatics came to a sudden hover, Applejack looked up from her letter to home and Fluttershy from her sketch—even Pinkie Pie seemed marginally less pink. Again, silence blanketed the room, but this time it was Twilight who broke it. “I know you and I aren’t getting along, but this is important to mom and dad. I think it would mean a lot to them if their... real daughter showed up.” Sparkle still said nothing, but her tail sharply lashed to and fro. “I can stay behind, if my being there is the problem.”

“No,” Sparkle shook her head, turning back to the book. “You go ahead.”

“I know I did a lot to deserve that,” Twilight murmured, glancing at the floor for a moment, before her gaze tilted back up. “But, please. You’re punishing mom and dad for something that I did wrong.”

Sparkle’s tail went still, her ears folded back, and she didn’t say anything at all.

“Fine. I’ll be back later, everypony.” Twilight turned, trotting away, and then out the door. As she moved, the eyes of her friends followed her, until the outside door shut behind her. Then those eyes went back to Sparkle.

“Something I can help you all with?” Sparkle asked, and though she was looking at nopony in particular, her grumble carried wide and clear across the room. Nopony answered her at first, but a few of the ponies there exchanged glances with each other. Applejack and Rarity held each other's eyes for a particularly long moment, and when the moment was past, they both rose from what they were doing.

“We’re not judging you, Sparkle,” Rarity was quick to convey. “You know your own mental and emotional state, and if it is your decision that your recovery will be best served by not meeting with your family, then of course we support that decision.”

“‘S just that, well,” Applejack said. “The last two times y’all said that, ya seemed pretty upset. Lots of other things on your mind, you know. We’re just worried that yer makin’ this decision for the wrong reasons. You know, stuff yer gonna regret later.”

“Well, thank you for your concern everypony, but I’m fine. I know what I’m doing,” Sparkle said, trying to turn back to her book. The others didn’t go away however, Rainbow Dash lowering herself to the floor as Fluttershy stepped up towards Sparkle.

“We know you do. It’s just that, um—” she bit her lip, wings fluttering gently by her side “—well, it’s just that, you seemed really angry the last time you talked about this, and we just didn’t want you to—”

“To what, make a decision in anger?” Sparkle snapped, her voice rising as she turned to glare at Fluttershy. “Well I’m not saying it isn’t a legitimate worry, because I’m sure as hay angry now!” Fluttershy whimpered under the verbal assault, stepping away as she lowered her head, her ears folding back. At once, Sparkle’s expression softened, but the anger behind it was not so easily tempered, and she turned away from Fluttershy with a sharp sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, but really, I’m fine.”

“Hey, Sparkle,” Rainbow Dash called out. Sparkle looked her way, but Rainbow Dash didn’t say anything, just giving her a pointed look from across the room. After a moment, Sparkle shook her head.

“Fine,” she said, taking a breath. “I mean... not fine. But why shouldn't I be mad? She made me sound like a complete witch in front of all of you!”

“Um. I don’t think she meant to. If that’s okay with you, I mean,” Fluttershy said, glancing up hesitantly. “I think she just really wanted you to go. It would mean a lot to your parents, and she must feel so uncomfortable going in your place.”

“Oh right. Because it would mean so much to them if their real daughter showed up.” Sparkle let out a snort, her tone bitter and sharp. “Mom and dad can’t tell us apart and she knows it. She just said that so she’d look better. I mean come on! She offered to stay behind, knowing there was no way I could say yes to that. She was just trying to puff up her stupid little ego by making herself look like the good guy, and by making me look like a huge jerk!”

“Sparkle! Now that’s not fair,” Rarity chided, her tone firm. “Certainly none of us feel you’re ‘the bad guy,’ and Twilight wasn’t trying to shame you in front of us. I mean really, think about it. You would never do something so manipulative and cold.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Sparkle’s hoof hit the floor hard as she rose from the couch, her voice climbing to a shout as she turned on Rarity. “Don’t you ever talk about her by saying what I would or wouldn’t do! I’m not like her. I’m nothing! Like! Her!” Sparkle emphasized each of her words with a slam of her hoof to the ground, leaning forward to glare at Rarity. “She’s manipulative and jealous and...” Sparkle trailed off as she saw Rarity’s expression, not angry, or defensive, but worried. Nervous. Unsure. Sparkle looked around the room sharply to the rest of her friends, and found them much the same—Fluttershy looking at the floor and whimpering, Pinkie Pie biting her lip and looking back and forth. Applejack was worst of all, her face slowly sinking as her expression grew flat. “Don’t you look at me that way,” Sparkle snapped, first at Rarity, then to the room. “I said don’t look at me that way!”

“Hey, hey,” Rainbow Dash said softly, fluttering up to Sparkle’s side. “It’s okay. We’re all on your side.” Sparkle’s expression shifted quickly, moving through anger, doubt, rejection and more, too quick for anything to stand out.

“I’m not her, Rainbow Dash!” Sparkle snapped, but Rainbow Dash didn’t rise to the barb. “I’m not,” Sparkle repeated, quieter the second time, her voice more subdued.

“I know you aren’t. We just all know you’re upset and... maybe this wasn’t the best way to try to help you,” Rainbow Dash said, nudging Sparkle’s shoulder with a wing. “Come on, lets go for a run, you and me. It’ll clear your head.”

“No, I—” Sparkle started to snap, raising her voice as she moved to shrug off Raninbow Dash. She paused halfway through the motion though, settling herself back to the floor. “No,” she repeated, with a calmer tone. “No, I want to be alone right now. Thanks though, Rainbow.” Sparkle turned away from the others, trotting towards the outside door. She stopped there for a time, turning to look back at her friends, and then up at Spike. The little dragon was still at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide and uncertain. When she looked at him, he forced a smile onto his face, giving her the faintest wave. She just sighed, lowered her head, and walked outside.

“Well, I have to admit, I was skeptical at first, but you were right. That was clearly entirely my fault,” Discord pressed a paw to his chest, letting out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh. “How could I have not realized the depths of my own malevolent machinations?” He all but wailed, only for his expression to abruptly change to a smirk. He rolled over in midair, looking down at Twilight with his head balanced on his paw, like he had his elbow up on a table. “I particularly liked the part where I tricked your friends into being all caring and supportive. That was particularly devious of me.”

“Shut up! That’s not how it happened!” Sparkle snapped, leaping back to her hooves, but Discord only yawned.

“Really, Sparkle?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I enjoy getting a rise out of you, but if you’re going to make it this easy, what’s the point?” He reached out to her, and with a sharp flick of his wrist, conjured a set of calipers into his claw. “I swear,” he said, reaching out with them to measure her head, “it’s like like you’re trying to take all the fun out of this.” He looked down at the tool in his hand, eyeing the measurement and wincing, a thoughtful murmur escaping him.

“I don’t have to take this from you,” Sparkle insisted, but she still provoked no reaction, the spirit simply dismissing the tool in his hand.

“That’s true!” he observed, with a thoughtful stroke of his chin. “You don’t. You’re free to dismiss me at any time, and to go back to the friends and family and teachers that love you so much.” He added the last words with a saccharine inflection, like one might use when speaking to an animal or a small foal, leaning down to pinch Sparkle’s cheeks. She sharply shook him off, and he chuckled. “So, will you?” Sparkle didn’t answer for a moment, but then she shook her head.

“No,” she murmured. “No, I’m... sorry, for my outburst.”

“Quite alright, my dear,” Discord assured her, opening his claws to the air in a conciliatory gesture, his palm facing upwards. “First, wipe those tear stains off your face.” Sparkle complied without thinking, reaching up to rub at her eyes. “Good.” Discord smiled. “Now, to return to the subject at hoof. I take it this is when you left to see your dear mentor?”

“Not right away,” Sparkle murmured.

“Where did you go first?” Discord asked, and there was curiosity in his tone, but there was something else as well. A hint of smugness, the sound of one recovering their high ground—like he already knew the answer.

“I didn’t go anywhere, I just...” She sighed. “I just went. I don’t know. I guess I thought that Rainbow was right, and that going for a walk would make me feel better, but I just started feeling worse. I kept wondering—if I combed my mane the other way, would they even be able to tell it was me? I actually thought about pretending to be her, so I could hear what they all say about me behind my back...” Sparkle drew a shaky breath, taking a moment to collect herself. “And then I realized how stupid and petty that was, and I just...”

“Aww,” Discord cooed, reaching down to put his paw over Sparkle’s shoulder. “There there. You can let it all out.”

“And I just felt so worthless I—”

“Sarcasm, Sparkle!” Discord flicked his paw under her chin, tilting her head up so sharply her teeth clicked together. “You were sad, we get it.” He removed his paw from under her chin, making two sharp little flicks with his fingers. “Move on.” She looked at him blankly for a moment, and he leaned in to emphasize his words. “You, Celestia, go.” He drew out the last word, fixing her with his eyes.

“I... I guess it was pretty late, by the time I went to her. I wasn’t in... I wasn’t in great shape—”

“One of the Twilights to see you, your highness!” the guard outside Celestia’s chambers called, raising his voice so that he could be heard through the thick wood. Sparkle looked up at him with wide, empty eyes, and said nothing as they waited.

“Enter.” Celestia’s voice called back, muffled by the door, and a moment later, the door slid open to permit Sparkle to pass. She stepped inside past the guard, and let the door swing shut behind her.

Celestia's quarters were dim, and Sparkle paused to let her eyes adjust. The purple rug and blue wall hangings gave the room a quiet demeanor at the best of times, each brushed with images of clouds or stars so faint one would almost think them a trick of the light. It was more than that though—the candles were out, and Celestia was lying in front of the fireplace, her legs folded under her and a book before her. Sparkle knew she had found the ruler of all Equestria in the middle of one of her rare moments of free time, and she almost backed away just for that, but Celestia gestured her onward with a wing.

“Come in, Twilight Sparkle.” She patted the spot next to her, scooting to one side to make room for Sparkle in front of the hearth. Sparkle made her way to Celestia’s side, and after a hesitant pause, settled down beside her. Celestia extended a wing over her, pulling her close, and Sparkle slumped against the Princess's side, burying her head in Celestia’s shoulder. Neither of them said a word for some time, though as they sat in the crackling fire’s light, Celestia did lean in over Sparkle’s head, murmuring soothing sounds.

“I will not think less of you if you need to cry,” Celestia whispered, and Sparkle whimpered into her coat at the words. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s no shame in that.”

“Why won’t you help me?” Sparkle asked, and though no tears flowed, her voice wavered uncertainty, fluctuating wildly in pitch. She pulled away from Celestia to look up at her mentor’s face, swallowing gently as she searched for the answer to her question.

“It wasn’t time,” Celestia murmured. “It wasn’t time for you to face this test, but the test is upon you, ready or not. I did not wish it to be so, but fate and chance have their way with all of us. Even me.”

“I’m not ready.” Sparkle’s voice quivered as she pleaded with her mentor. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I’ve failed. Whatever this is supposed to teach me, I’m not learning...” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she had to pause for breath before she could go on. “Make it stop.”

“I wish that I could,” Celestia murmured, brushing back Sparkle’s mane with a hoof and holding her head gently. “You don’t know how much it hurts me to see you this way, but there are some things you must face on your own. I could never have told you how to wield the Element of Magic, and if I had tried to guide you to it, it would never have come to you. All I could do was give you a nudge in the right direction and trust that you were the pony I thought you were. You did not disappoint me then, Twilight Sparkle, and I know you won’t now.”

“It’s not the same, Princess!” Sparkle shouted, pulling away. “I don’t care what this is supposed to teach me! Let me fail! I just want this to be over. I—”

Celestia pressed a hoof to Sparkle’s mouth, letting her fall silent. She gave a soft, sad smile, leaning down to nuzzle against the top of Sparkle’s head. “Shhh,” she cooed, and rose from where she sat, using one wing to guide Sparkle to the window. “Do you remember when you left Canterlot, and you told Spike that the fate of Equestria did not depend on you making friends?” she asked, nudging Sparkle to sit so they could stare out at the night sky together.

“Y-yes,” Sparkle managed, though her voice still wavered and threatened to crack. “I remember.”

“I know how much pain this causes you. I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Celestia gave a heavy sigh. “In many ways, I wish you were a foal again, so I could just give you a hug and tell you it will all be better. But you aren't a foal, Twilight Sparkle, and now you must rise to the occasion. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Princess.” Sparkle drew a breath, stiffened her spine, and sat up—but her eyes still seemed heavy, drawn to the floor instead of the sky. “I understand.”

“When this is over, you and I will need to have a long talk, Twilight Sparkle. I owe you many explanations, just not now,” Princess Celestia glanced down at Sparkle, and the unicorn nodded.

“I understand, Princess.” She nodded again. “Is it a requirement of the test that I suffer?”

“No,” Princess Celestia assured, her words quick, her tone concerned. “No, do not ever think that I—”

“Then could I ask you for something, Princess? A kindness, while I must endure this?” Sparkle asked, and Princess Celestia opened her mouth to answer.

Then she shut it again. The reflexive answer, “Yes, anything,” died unspoken, something in Sparkle’s tone giving the Princess pause. After a moment, she gave a more measured reply, “You can ask, and I will grant your wish as best I can.”

“I just want to spend some time here tonight,” Sparkle said, looking up at the Princess. So close, she couldn't meet the Princess's eyes without craning her neck. Instead, her gaze found the Princess's chest, and her wings, and her radiant mane. “There’s things I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but the moment never seemed right. And now I feel like if I don’t say it now, the moment may never come at all. I just...” She swallowed, forcing herself to press on. “I have things I want to tell you—to ask you—that aren’t for her. They aren’t for anypony but you and me, and I can’t stand the idea that I’ll say them only for you to turn around and...” Sparkle’s voice cracked, and she had to pause to collect herself, drawing a deep breath as her throat tightened. “It would mean a lot if you could take some time to talk with me. Just me.”

Celestia paused, sighed, and lifted her wing off Sparkle’s back, folding it back into the resting position.

“You’ve always been like a mother to me—” Sparkle said, forcing the words out, but she didn’t get far.

“No, Twilight Sparkle,” Princess Celestia commanded, her tone growing firm, and regal. “I’m sorry, but I cannot do as you ask. It would be no kindness.”

Sparkle drew a silent, shaking breath, then another. “Of course you can’t.” The trembling in her chest that had been building through the conversation finally gave way, and tears started to flow from her eyes, her words broken by sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Twi—” Princess Celestia reached out for her student, only to have Sparkle sharply swat the hoof away.

“The hay you are!” Sparkle bellowed, but the anger in her tone did nothing to stop the tears, and even as she yelled, she struggled to find the breath to speak. “Words are cheap! If you were really sorry you wouldn't be doing this!”

“I’m sorry that things must be this—”

“Don’t give me that!” Sparkle screamed, her voice rising to a screech. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry this happened like it was something you had no control over! You could have pulled Twilight and me apart at any time, you could have told us anything you wanted, you could have warned us what kind of test this would be. You wanted things to happen this way! You made this happen this way!”

“I tried to point you in the right direction as best I could,” Celestia insisted. “It pains me to see you this way, but there are—”

“There are what!? There are little gremlins in the walls who won’t like it if we talk? There are evil spirits who are only repelled by misery? There are changeling spies and you don’t want them listening to our private talks!?” Sparkle demanded. “Because I’m struggling to think of another reason why you can’t even talk to me!”

“I know what you want to say, Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia spoke, her voice level, and calm, even as Sparkle’s rose. “There will be a time and place to—”

“I wanted to tell you I love you!” Sparkle screamed at the top of her lungs. In the wake of that declaration, neither of them spoke, and the only sound in the room was Sparkle’s sobbing, her chest heaving with every deep, fast breath.

“Such a profession is a deeply personal thing, Twilight Sparkle. You...” Celestia’s calm demenor never broke, but for a moment, it was she who seemed to struggle for words. “You mean more to me than you know,” Celestia finished, after a long silence. “And your feelings deserve better than to be used as a prize to lord over your own reflection.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Celestia spoke firmly. “It will be a wonderful day for me when you decide to say such things because you truly mean them. But that day is not today. Here, now, you said it because you wanted to own me in a way your mirror-image could not. Indulging that would be no kindness to you, Twilight Sparkle. No kindness at all.”

“You—” Sparkle stammered. “You think that I—” Her breaths came faster, quicker, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve been trying for years to find the courage to say that to you, and you think that I...” She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears in them down her cheeks. “I’ve always trusted you knew what you were doing, but you don’t understand me at all, do you?”

“Twilight Sparkle—”

“Do you!?” Sparkle screamed, rearing up and sharply bucking, her hooves smashing against the wall hard enough to leave indentations in the wood. “You always act like you know so much—so wise and calm like the whole thing is under control! But this happened by accident. Luna is still trying to figure out how it’s even possible! Are you lying to her too? Are you keeping her as much in the dark as you’re keeping me? Or are you just full of it!?” Celestia started to speak, but Sparkle screamed over her without interruption. “Your story doesn’t add up, Princess! You swear you had no part in this, but you seem to know everything about it! You insist that it’s vitally important I do this on my own, but you can’t tell me why! You tell me it’s not about my suffering, but you can’t so much as lift a hoof to help me!”

“That’s not true!” Celestia snapped, “I—”

“To tartarus with you, Princess!” Sparkle cut her off with a sharp slash of her hoof. “I didn’t want to own you. I just wanted to have a special moment with my teacher and mentor!”

“And I didn’t want your feelings towards me to be forever tainted by your using them as a bargaining chip!” Celestia snapped back, her wings flaring outwards and upwards. “This isn’t how I pictured this moment between us going, Sparkle.”

“Oh that must be so difficult for you,” Sparkle sneered, even through her trembling breaths, her tears tumbling off her cheeks to the floor. “I can’t imagine how much that must hurt, forced to watch your student’s life fall apart. You poor thing,” Sparkle all but spit the words.

“That was beneath you, Twilight Sparkle!” Celestia shouted back, but after a moment, she drew a deep breath and forced her wings to snap back to her side. “This conversation is over,” she said, her tone sharp and commanding.

“Don’t call me that! I have a name, you understand? Sparkle. Just Sparkle!” Sparkle made no move to leave, staring down the Princess.

“Twilight Sparkle is your n—”

“Twilight is a liar and a killer! Don’t think you can lump me together with her, Princess! You can do what you like, but I will not answer to that name—do you hear me?” Sparkle demanded, and when the Princess did not answer right away, Sparkle screamed, “Do you hear me!?”

“Yes, Sparkle,” the Princess sighed. “I hear you.”

“Fine.” Sparkle drew a shuddering breath. “Fine!” She turned on a hoof, and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her so hard it rattled in its frame.

“Tragic.” Discord reached down to pick up his soda, taking a long draw off the straw until a distinctive sucking sound became audible at the bottom of the cup. That continued for a good several seconds before he put it away, letting out a contented sigh. The two then looked at each other for a time, in silence.

“Well?” Sparkle asked, quiet and hesitant.

“Well what?” Discord shrugged. “It’s quite the story, my dear, but it’s hardly news. Don’t you remember what I said the last time we met?” Discord snapped his fingers, hazy and translucent images of Sparkle and himself appearing where they had stood only a day ago.

“Rainbow Dash and Twilight are acting like it all never happened.” Sparkle spoke with a trembling voice, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Her gaze was stuck fast on the ground, and she seemed unable to raise her head as Discord stood before her. “I don’t know how they can.”

“Ugh. Typical Celestia. If somepony lit you on fire, she’d watch and say it was a wonderful opportunity for you to learn to stop, drop, and roll.” Discord rolled his eyes.

Another snap of Discord’s fingers dismissed the apparitions, and he turned his gaze once again to the real Sparkle in front of him. “Celestia believes in learning by doing, Sparkle. It wasn’t my council that led you here—it was your failure your listen to it. I can hardly be blamed if you don’t pay attention.” He reached out to rap on the top of her head with a knuckle.

“So then, tell me already,” Sparkle murmured, folding her ears back as she braced for the news.

“Tell you... what?” Discord asked, giving her a wide-eyed glance—cluelessness exaggerated to farce.

“I told you what happened. Tell me if Celestia has been through all this!” Sparkle demanded, her ears shooting back up. Discord though only tsked, waggling a claw at her.

“That wasn’t the deal, Sparkle.” Discord let out the slightest of sighs, quick and patient, like a teacher correcting a slow student. “While I have enjoyed your little storytime, my terms were quite clear: I’ll tell you if Celestia knows what you’re going through or not once you tell me what you’ll do if the answer is ‘yes.’ You have yet to fulfill your half of the bargain.”

“Just keep doing what I’m doing, I guess,” Sparkle grumbled, but Discord narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head.

“If that’s your answer, then mine is that Princess Celestia has never been a duplicated purple unicorn in your exact circumstances, so no, she hasn’t experienced what you’re going through,” Discord said, but when Sparkle opened her mouth to object, he cut her off with a snort. “If you’re not going to put any thought into it, Sparkle, you can hardly expect me to. I mean really, as if my thoughts weren't more precious than yours as it is.”

“Well what do you expect me to say?” she asked, her words quick and clipped. “That I’ll see the error of my ways and go give Twilight a hug and the power of friendship will just shoot out of us as a bright shiny rainbow!?” Sparkle realized what she’d said moments after it left her mouth, but by that point, Discord was already laughing so hard it was leaving him in stitches, the spirit wheezing just for breath.

“Oh, you—” Discord’s sentence was broken by another fit of laughter, the words garbled and incomprehensible, but one clearly stood out through the noise: “Priceless.”

“Shut up,” Sparkle shouted into the laughter. “Shut up!” Abruptly, she got her wish, Discord falling silent and whirling to face her.

“Alright then, Sparkle, you want to know what I’d like you to say?” Discord growled, so close his muzzle pressed against hers. “Something that indicates you’ll have the slightest capacity to deal with it when I tell you the answer is no.” Just as sharply, he pulled back, leaving Sparkle stunned in his wake. “I’m sorry, do you need me to repeat that? No, Celestia has not been through this, herself or by proxy. She is doing exactly the same thing all your friends are doing—trying to balance two ponies she cares about who seem inexplicably determined to hate each other. And like your friends, she is failing.”

“But I—”

“Don’t interrupt me! It is not Starswirl’s magic or Celestia’s tutelage that has created this problem, but your own defective mind.” With a snap of his fingers, Discord conjured a doll in the shape of Twilight Sparkle. Life-size, its exterior was made of cotton and felt, wrapped around a partially exposed interior of brass and clockwork. It had all the color and padding of a foal’s stuffed toy, but the bearing and demeanor of the walking dead, somehow standing despite all its joints being limp. A large turnkey stuck out of its back, which Discord gave a sharp twist, the thing starting to rattle and shake.

“I don’t even have any issues with Twilight!” The doll blurted out, in a flat, toneless imitation of Sparkle, mechanically raising its hoof, and then equally lifelessly stomping it against the ground. “I just wish she would disappear already so I could have my life back.”

“Remember that?” Discord asked. Sparkle stumbled away from the windup toy, her eyes going wide as her heart started to race. “Or how about this?”

“She’s just so ugly,” the doll said, its head sharply and unnaturally tilting to one side. “I don’t look like that, do I?”

“Stop it,” Sparkle demanded, her voice trembling. “Stop it!”

“Oh!” Discord grinned, “Or how about this?”

“I was wrong, Rainbow Dash. Things can be better again.” The doll sharply righted its head, blurting out the words in a mechanical drone. “We’re the Bearers of the Elements. We can overcome anything.”

“Remember her?” Discord chuckled. “I like that version of Twilight Sparkle a lot better than you. She’s got a good attitude. Would she be available to—?”

Sparkle drew a deep breath, leaping towards Discord. No matter how solid he seemed to her, she crashed through him without resistance, landing in front of the statue. There, she whirled in place, delivering three sharp kicks to the statue’s base.

Then, she was alone.

Slowly, Sparkle sunk to the grass of the statue garden’s lawn, and unseen by anypony, started to sob.

Chapter 10

A true friend will always be there for you, and will help you through the worst of your troubles.

Rainbow Dash, being a particularly true friend and all-around proactive pony, took this philosophy one step further. She often earned the title of Element of Loyalty, and nothing could stop her from coming to the side of her friends’ in their time of need.

Not even them specifically asking her to stop making things worse, or, in at least one case, to put that down before it detonates.

“Listen up, everypony!” she shouted, her slowly beating wings carrying her through the library. Sparkle had left the tower early that morning, muttering something about looking for a book in the main castle library. Twilight had stayed longer, but at an insistent suggestion from Rainbow was off trotting a few laps around the castle grounds. Without them, the tower was occupied only by the Elements of Harmony and Spike, and Rainbow Dash soon had their attention. “Gather ‘round, we need to talk!”

“Uh oh!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, bouncing up the stairs after Rainbow Dash as the others congregated in the library’s middle floor. Rarity and Applejack came down from the upper loft, while Fluttershy looked up from the couch on which she rested. “That never means anything good! Are you breaking up with us?”

“What?” Rainbow Dash asked, turning a puzzled look on Pinkie Pie. “No. I’ve been thinking!”

“Oh no, not again,” Fluttershy said, shrinking back against the pillows. “The doctor said my leg still hasn’t fully healed since last time.”

“That would have worked if you hadn’t flinched!” Rainbow insisted, throwing up her forehooves. The ponies around her didn’t respond, though Rarity and Applejack did exchange a dubious glance, and after a moment, Rainbow Dash sighed. “Okay, look. Operation ‘Get Twilight and Sparkle to be Friends and Then Go Have Ice Cream’ isn’t working out. We need to change tactics.”

“I grant there have been some setbacks,” Rarity admitted, though her tone was reserved. “But overall, they’re still making progress.”

“Setbacks? Try mega freaking disasters!” Rainbow Dash insisted, circling the room with a tense energy, her wings steadily beating. Her gaze cycled through all the ponies present, her words directed to the room as a whole. “I don’t think they are ‘making progress.’ They’re trying, but that’s not the same thing as actually getting better.”

“Ah get what yer sayin’, Rainbow, but Ah don’t know if there’s much more we can do. This is a personal matter, between the two of ’em,” Applejack said, with a firm tap of her hoof to the floor. “We can be there for ’em and make sure they know they have friends, but they need to sort this out in their own time.”

“So then we’re just going to sit here and pretend none of us noticed that Sparkle was crying last night?” Rainbow Dash asked, and only silence answered her. “Is that what we’re going to do?” she demanded, voice rising. Still, none of the ponies in the room answered her. Pinkie Pie turned to stare at the floor, Fluttershy looking away, as Rarity and Applejack just looked uncertain. “Fine, forget you then! I’ll do it myself,” she snapped, turning to float towards the exit.

“Wait!” a rough voice called out. Rainbow Dash and the others turned to look at Spike. He hesitated for a moment under the weight of their collective stares, but finally muttered, “I want to hear what Rainbow Dash has to say.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie Pie added, scratching the back of her head with a hoof. “I mean, things did get a little... super-duper-awkward and weird last night. With the puffy eyes and all of us not saying anything and me wondering if I was the only pony who noticed and Twilight looking super guilty but not saying anything either and—”

Applejack’s hoof roughly interrupted Pinkie, firmly covering her mouth as Applejack let out a flat, “We’re gettin’ the gist.” Applejack then turned back to Rainbow Dash, giving a reluctant little nod. “Go ahead.”

Rainbow Dash paused for a moment before letting out a “So!” and floating back towards the others, her face showing not a trace of her earlier hesitation. “Think about it. Twilight and Sparkle haven’t exactly been PFFs from moment they uh... you know, split up. But when were the two times they actually seemed to be getting along?”

“After the fight in the library. When they were recovering in the Boutique,” Rarity supplied. “Although, I think that might have been motivated by guilt more than—”

“Guilt shmilt.” Rainbow Dash waved away Rarity’s concerns with a hoof. “They both sounded like the old, beat-Nightmare-Moon, save-the-day Twilight just then. That’s a big improvement over all this drama. Now, what was the other time?”

“At the party, that first night,” Fluttershy said, her voice quiet, but firm. “Twilight looked so happy, and Sparkle was happy for her.”

“Right! And what can we conclude from this?” Rainbow Dash asked, turning in the air and making a wide, sweeping gesture to take in the whole of the room.

“Oh oh!” Pinkie Pie said, raising her hoof and sitting up sharply. “That Carousel Boutique has some sort of super magical lavender unicorn agreeability field and so we need to lock the two of them in Rarity’s basement until they hug?”

“Yeah...” Rainbow Dash drew out the word, a silence hanging in its wake. “Or that they get along when they think the other is in trouble.”

“Oh, that was going to be my second guess!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, a smile on her face.

“So the two of ’em pull together when there’s trouble,” Applejack said, shaking her head at Rainbow Dash. “They’d do that for anypony. What’s your point?”

“That is my point!” Rainbow Dash shot back, with a roll of her eyes. “Look, AJ, you like Rarity, right? You’d do anything to help her, risk life and limb if she was in trouble?”

“Course I would!” Applejack shot back, her tone brusque. “What are you—”

“Well, remember that sleepover at the library? How would you feel if you and Rarity had to be locked in a very small bedroom together all night long?” Rainbow Dash demanded, zipping up towards Applejack with two quick wingbeats. “Worse, locked in a small bedroom with nothing to talk about because everything else you could talk about you both already know.”

For a moment, nopony spoke, a silence hanging in the air. “Well... uh...” Applejack managed, fumbling for words, as she and Rarity exchanged stiff, awkward glances.

“You’d be ready to kill each other by morning, of course!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, her voice rising. Her expression soon turned puzzled however, as every other pony in the room visibly relaxed, Rarity letting out a relieved sigh. “What’s wrong with all of you?”

“Oh, nothing!” Pinkie Pie giggled. “So, how many beds does this little bedroom have?” she asked, earning a sour glare from Rarity and a confused glance from Spike.

“I don’t know! Does it matter?” Rainbow Dash asked, raising her hoof to her face and letting out a frustrated growl. “The point is that even the best of friends can get too much of each other, and we’ve just about chained Twilight and Sparkle together at the hoof and told them to get used to it. Worse, with how ‘supportive’ we’re all being, we’re basically just staring at them and telling them they can hug whenever they’re ready. It’s no wonder they’re going crazy.”

“I hate to admit it,” Rarity muttered, and then paused a moment to purse her lips, “But I think Rainbow Dash might be right. Put that way, it does seem possible that our attempts to help them might have only exacerbated the problem.”

“Exactly!” Rainbow Dash nodded. “So, all we have to do to fix it is put one of them in mortal danger and let the other save her! Now, the hard part is going to be getting the shark tank assembled without anypony—”

“Y’had one good thought today, RD. Quit while you’re ahead,” Applejack grumbled, and she and Rainbow Dash each took a moment to exchange a hard stare. The other ponies in the room took little notice however, each lost in thought.

“No...” Rarity murmured, drawing the word out. “I think Rainbow Dash might be right there, too. Not about the shark tank, obviously, but... something external. Something that impacts both of them that isn’t caused by either of them.”

“Something that they have to work on together, but that will make them think about something other than each other,” Fluttershy added, and Rarity nodded her head in turn.

“Yeah, but it’ll have to be something tricky. Something...” Spike said, tapping his chin with a claw. “Clever.”

“Okay, Sparkle.” Twilight let out a breath. “We need to talk.”

Sparkle said nothing.

“I’ve been... going through some stuff,” Twilight began, awkwardly scratching the back of her head with a hoof. “And I thought about it this morning, and realized that that means you’re probably going through some stuff too. I mean, of course you are, but... you know. Particularly after what happened on the rooftop. I just thought we should, you know. Talk it out?”

Sparkle said nothing.

“Right, well, I talked with Princess Luna, and she said that... well.” Twilight had to pause for a moment, taking a second to collect herself. “Maybe it’s not exactly normal to fantasize about having total magical dominion over the world, but pretending nothing happened won’t make the problem go away. She said that ‘such things fester in darkness,’ and given her history, it’s a pretty obvious metaphor—particularly given how much we’ve been keeping this all to ourselves. She’s really worried about us and... well, we should get it out there.” She drew in a breath, bracing herself for what she was about to say.

“Last night, I know I hurt your feelings when I asked why you weren't coming, but the truth is, Mom understood. I was the one who wanted you to come, because I was afraid to face Mom and Dad and Shining,” Twilight looked down at the ground, scraping her hoof over the grass. “I just... I don’t feel like their daughter, sometimes. I guess that’s why you didn’t come. I still wish you had, but, I understand better now.”

Sparkle said nothing.

“Everything is just so strange now. There’s this layer of tension under everything, coloring every conversation, every moment with our friends. Sometimes I wonder if the spell really copied us or just split us in half, and that’s why I feel so incomplete. I can’t think, I can’t study, I can’t sleep...” For a time, she said nothing, her ears folded back tight against her head. “I keep thinking about the library, and how I... how I nearly... I’m so sorry.” Her voice became choked, her throat tight as she struggled to force out the words.

“I guess I should say that I’d give anything to take it all back—that if I could wave my hoof and put everything back the way it was, I would. But it’s not true,” she said, pausing a moment to sniffle. “Maybe that’s wrong of me, but even with everything that’s happened, I’m glad I exist. I’m glad you made me and I want to live. I think it’s selfish, when I know my being here hurts you, and I might not even get the chance anyway, but I want to try.” She reached up to rub at her eyes, sitting up straight, forcing her voice to clear. “I do wish I could take back the library though. And every moment leading up to it. The awkwardness, the silences, I wish I’d been honest with you from the start.”

“Heh...” Twilight paused to collect herself, giving a slight shake of her head. “And... I don’t suppose it matters at this point, with everything else I’ve done, but I do forgive you for trying to kill me in the library that first day. It was horrible but... you didn’t know.”

Sparkle said nothing.

Twilight smiled for a moment, then started to chuckle, a quiet little laugh escaping her. “Hey, Sparkle, lookin’ good this morning. Those bangs really work for you.”

Sparkle said nothing.

“Hey, Sparkle!” Twilight said, smiling wider as a little giggle escaped her. “I just thought you should know, I’ve been a changeling all along. First, I’ll steal your friends’ love, then your legs! Mine have all these weird holes.”

Sparkle said nothing.

“Oh, oh. Hey, Sparkle. I fixed everything!” Twilight said, twitching a hoof twice to signal Sparkle forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Cadence is going to use her magic to make us love each other! Of course, that’s not exactly platonic love, but I see that as a small price to pay to get our lives back in order.”

Twilight laughed, but after only a few moments, the laugh started to sound hollow and weak, and it trailed away into silence. She looked down to the earth, her ears folding back as she scuffed the ground in front of her. Sparkle, meanwhile, said nothing.

Because Sparkle was a bush.

She was in the center of the hedge maze, in the clearing where Discord had once tempted Rainbow Dash with the offer of her wings. There, to commemorate the Elements’ victory, Celestia had had raised six topiary sculptures, each depicting one of the bearers. It was to one of those sculptures in particular that Twilight spoke, and before which she now hung her head.

“I guess that wasn’t really that funny,” Twilight murmured, and when she stopped speaking, it was like she was alone in the world. The hedge maze around her perfectly muffled the sounds of Canterlot and the castle, and when she lifted her ears, there was only her own breathing and the rustle of the wind in the grass.

“Okay, Sparkle, we need to talk,” Twilight said, only to frown and sharply shake her head. “No, that’s wrong. Um... Sparkle, can we talk? Sparkle, got a moment? Sparkle, there are some things I think we need to say.” She let out a sharp breath. “Sparkle, I know you think we’re—you’re—a bad pony, but I talked it out with Luna. I know, you think she can’t possibly understand. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of ponies? But, Luna knows! And she wants to help us because... because that kind of got away from me there.”

Twilight listened to the wind for a while.

“It’s just... do you ever feel like you’ve lost control?” she asked the sculpture, looking up at its lifeless eyes. “Like you’re something less than you were? Than you should be? I was never weak. I stood up to Nightmare Moon, to Discord. I was always in control, and with my friends, I knew I could overcome anything. But now I feel so helpless. In the library, I wasn’t in control—I couldn't stop myself. I was just so mad. And now...” She shut her eyes, sniffling faintly.

“I’m supposed to be the pony who stood up to the greatest villains in Equestria, and I can’t even say this to your face.” Twilight sunk to the ground in front of the hedge sculpture, laying her chin against the grass and shutting her eyes.

“Princess Luna says that we don’t have to mean any harm to hurt those around us, we just have to want other things more than for our friends to be happy,” she whispered, her forelegs under her head as she rested there. It was a bright morning, but the wind was chill, and she tucked her tail in tight around her. “I think that’s why we can be the Element of Magic, even though there is... darkness... in our hearts. It’s not that we mean anypony harm, but sometimes, we let things we want take priority over our friends. Maybe that’s the lesson Celestia needs us to learn.”

A weak ghost of a smile brushed Twilight’s face for a moment, though there was no humor in it. “I mean, in a way, this is all oddly selfish, isn’t it? It’s about me, me, me. Even when it’s about you. I haven’t even thought about what it’s doing to our friends, to Shining... well, I have thought about that, actually. I could have thought about it more though.”

The wind whistled around Twilight, her mane whipping about her. She tightened herself against the sudden gust, tucking her legs in tight against her barrel as Canterlot’s winds lashed through the garden. Above her, Sparkle swayed slightly, her leaves and branches rustling with the motion.

“I’m so forgiving with other ponies. Rarity can be greedy, Pinkie Pie can be weak, Rainbow Dash can be hotheaded, Applejack can be stubborn, Fluttershy can be manipulative. None of that matters to me though. When I’m around them, all I can see is their good qualities.” Twilight cracked an eye open, looking up at Sparkle. “But when I’m around you, all I can see is your flaws. You’re arrogant, you’re snobby, you’re cold, you’re overprivileged and terrifyingly powerful and totally unaware of any of those things. You don’t stop for a second to think about what your place really is in the world.” Her words were accusative, but her voice was quiet.

“I don’t love you, Sparkle. I don’t even like you, and I’m so sick of having to pretend I do just because everypony expects us to get along. I hate you, and I hate their expectations, and I just want to shout that I’ll like you when you stop being such an awful pony.” Twilight’s voice shook as she spoke, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, burying her muzzle in the grass. “You’re judgemental too, did I mention that?” she asked, sniffling quietly. “Always nitpicking my flaws.” She laughed for a moment, but there was no humor in the sound, closer to a stifled whimper.

“I guess what I’m saying is: I don’t like you, but I know I’m going to have to learn to like you.” She drew a resolute breath and let it out firmly. “So, you want to hang out some time?” she asked, keeping her voice firm and decisive.

“So, you want to spend some time in the library together?”

“So, you want to try sharing our bedroom tonight? Our real bedroom.”

“So, want to sing? I’ve got this great one in my head about not being prepared for this.”

“So, want to just sit there and talk to a bush because you’re too much of a wimp to say anything to a real pony?” she finally asked, letting out a quiet sigh and lifting her head. “Yeah, that sounds good to me, Twilight.”

“Maybe I’ll just ask her if she wants to get lunch or something and go from there. Work my way up.” Slowly, Twilight rose from where she sat, unfolding one leg at a time and then rising to all four hooves. She stretched out her legs, twisted her spine, and when she felt a satisfying pop, she slumped, letting her breath out in one massive sigh.

Moving at a slow walk, Twilight made her way out of the clearing, through the hedge maze, and back into the Canterlot statue garden. She walked past the petrified forms of Equestria’s greatest heroes, scholars, and villains, heading towards the palace’s main library. Her path would have seemed strange to most, but she knew the palace better than the average pony. Canterlot Castle had been many things over its many centuries—a mining outpost, a wizard’s tower, a fortress, a ruin, a seat of absolute power, and now, a center of quiet administration. It was filled with secret tunnels, hidden enchantments, rooms that had been bricked up and forgotten, caches of knowledge and supplies that had passed out of memory. It was rumored that only the Princess knew every room in the castle, but Twilight knew that wasn’t true.

After all, once or twice, she had managed to hide from the Princess in those spaces, in the rooms she had discovered as a foal—in the places that only Twilight Sparkle knew.

Across the garden, up the side stairs to the library, down the hall to the Blueblood Foyer, up the servants’ stairs hidden behind the curtain and down the main stairwell. That brought her back to the library side entrance, but now there was a hallway that wasn’t there before, that led to a mezzanine nopony else could see. There above the library’s main floor was a space full of tables and books, dusty cups of coffee and glasses abandoned by students centuries ago. Twilight was not the first to discover this secret space, though she was the only living pony who knew of it, and it was always littered with the detritus of those that had come before. She had never dared clean this space—throwing away the trash here would have been like throwing away the relics in a museum. There were parts of it she could use though, most particularly one study room, that had been empty when she found it: a little space with a window and a place in the sun.

When she drew close, she heard a voice. Her voice.

“—Rarity can be greedy, Pinkie Pie can be weak, Rainbow Dash can be hotheaded, Applejack can be stubborn, Fluttershy can be manipulative. None of that matters to me though. When I’m around them, all I can see is their good qualities,” Sparkle murmured, sitting on the floor of the study room and facing a ragged purple plushie she had found somewhere amongst the mezzanine. There was no telling how old it was, and its legs were about ready to fall off, but it was purple, and it was a unicorn, so it would have to do. “But when I’m around you, all I can see is your flaws. You’re arrogant, you’re snobby, you’re overprivileged and terrifyingly powerful, and worse than that, you’re cold. You’re so cold.” Her words were accusative, but her voice was quiet.

Twilight was left at a loss, her mouth falling open as she looked into the study room. Sparkle’s back was to the door, and she hadn’t seen Twilight yet, hadn’t heard her approach.

“I don’t love you, Twilight. I don’t even like you, and I’m so sick of having to pretend I do just because everypony expects us to get along. I hate you, and I hate their expectations, and I just want to shout that I’ll like you when you stop being such an awful pony.” Sparkle’s voice shook as she spoke, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, burying her muzzle in her folded forelegs. “But I can’t say that, because when they look at me, all they see is you. They’re frightened of me because of what they see in your eyes, they judge me for the things you said, they try to laugh and joke with me about things I never did.” For a moment, Sparkle said nothing.

“So, I’m leaving. You win,” she finished, with a heavy sigh. After a moment, she shook her head, and tried again.

“So, I’m leaving. This is what’s best for both of us.”

“So, I’m leaving. There’s nothing left for me here.”

“So, I’m leaving. We can say I died or something so that ponies won’t worry.”

“So, I’m leaving. This is what’s best for our friends and family.”

“So, I’m leaving. It’s clear they love you more and—”

“Stop,” Twilight burst out. Sparkle tried to leap to her hooves, her shock so great that she tripped over her own legs and went tumbling to the side. “Just—just stop!” Twilight shouted, her voice rising, her chest tight. Sparkle scrambled away from her, finally making it to her hooves and backing into the room’s far corner. “Just...” Twilight drew a shaking breath, her barrel trembling.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Sparkle was pressed far into her corner, shrinking back as though from a dangerous predator. Twilight stood in the door, staring her down, her gaze intense and focused. It was the same expression she had used so many times recently—a face of sharp intent, made for shouting, made for sharp declarations—but when she spoke, her voice was quiet, and it shook like a shivering foal. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” Sparkle answered, slowly unfolding herself from the corner, though her gaze never wavered from Twilight. “Away from here. North, maybe? Or into the Griffon kingdoms. There are some ponies who live there.”

“Well that’s stupid!” Twilight shouted, Sparkle flinching back from her yelling. “All your friends are here! Your family is here! Everything you’ve ever known is here and you just want to run off to the other side of the world!?”

“Yes!” Sparkle screamed the word at Twilight, her voice cracking, run ragged.

For a while, Twilight didn’t have anything to say to that. The two ponies just watched each other from across the little room. There wasn’t much to the study: a door, a window, a desk, some old books. A mat and a blanket they used to lie on.

“Okay.” Twilight finally managed to speak, forcing her breaths to come evenly.

“Okay,” Sparkle answered. “Good.”

“Why...” Twilight said, and it took her a few seconds to decide what she wanted to follow it with, “Why were you practicing talking to me? Shouldn't you tell the others, or Mom, or—”

“They’d only tell me to stay. Or try to stop me from leaving,” Sparkle insisted, shaking her head. “I don’t want to go through that. I just want this all to be over.”

“Okay,” Twilight nodded. After a moment, she made her way inside the room, sitting down on the little mat in the corner and folding her legs under her. “I... what do you want me to tell them? About why you left?”

“I don’t know. Make something up,” Sparkle said, her gaze somewhere around the base of Twilight’s neck. “They’re your friends now. It doesn't matter to me.”

“You know they’ll chase you down to the ends of the earth, right?” Twilight asked, her own stare sinking to the floor. “Shining and all the others. Dash will drag you back to Equestria over her shoulder if you make her.”

“So tell them I’m dead. It’s better that way!” Sparkle shouted, her words cutting off abruptly with a quiet, choking sound. “They love you more.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true!” Sparkle roared, lifting her gaze to glare at Twilight. “You’re horrible, but all they can see is what’s good in you and what’s wrong with me! Don’t tell me it’s not true!” She screamed, so loud that her voice shook with the strain.

“Okay,” Twilight said, swallowing even though her mouth tasted like dust. “Okay. I won't tell you it’s not true,” she said, nodding. “But I’m not telling them you’re dead either. So just... sit with me and let’s work what I’m going to say?”

Sparkle looked up at Twilight, narrowing her eyes. She took a step across the room, then froze, watching the other unicorn with a close, attentive stare. Like an animal being coaxed out of its cage, she made her way across the room one nervous step at a time, finally settling down next to Twilight on the warm mat.

For several minutes, neither of them said anything. More than once, one of them opened their mouth to speak, but then shut it without a sound, looking down and away from the other.

“Do you really have to leave Equestria? Couldn’t you just move to a different town or something?” Twilight finally asked, though she couldn't look at Sparkle’s face. “I mean, you could visit Mom and Dad then. And Shining. And I could just leave Ponyville for a while whenever you felt like coming back.”

“You’d just step out,” Sparkle said, a bitter twist in her words. “‘Hey everypony, I’m going camping for a few days. There’s going to be this other pony here while I’m away though. Humor her, would you?’”

“I-I didn’t...” Twilight said, searching for words that wouldn't come, a hot blush rising into her face. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how did you mean it?” Sparkle demanded, and into that long, judgemental silence, Twilight could say nothing. She just folded her ears back, looking at the floor as Sparkle snorted. “Why are you even saying this anyway? You want me to leave.”

“No I—” Twilight said reflexively, but she caught herself, and the words lodged in her throat. “I mean... I mean yes. I do want you to leave, but... but I want to be fair to you more. You leaving would make me feel good, but, only in the sense that lashing out at somepony when you’re angry feels good. It feels like what you want, but it just leaves you sick inside. I’ve done that before,” Twilight said, shutting her eyes tight. “I don’t want to do it again.”

“Your regrets don’t undo what happened!” Sparkle yelled, almost bellowing into Twilight’s ear, her eyes fixed forward in a glare, ears up and sharp. “I’m so glad that you’ve had this revelation, but it doesn't fix anything!”

“I know,” Twilight said, her voice barely a whisper. She pressed her hooves together on the mat for lack of knowing what else to do, nervously twiddling them together.

“You feeling bad that you ruined my life doesn't put it back in order!” Sparkle roared, but now her voice was coming in starts, her eyes glistening. “It doesn't change the way my friends look at me now!”

“I know,” Twilight said.

Then, Sparkle started to cry.

She forced herself to sit up straight, to keep her face composed, but she couldn't stop the tears. They ran down her face in little rivers, dropping to the mat below her and leaving damp marks in their wake. She tried to hold her head still, but it shook faintly with every stifled sound, her barrel trembling with the little puffs and gasps of breath that she could not conceal. Twilight reached a leg out to her.

“Don’t touch me!” Sparkle snapped, and Twilight folded her leg back.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I know you’re sorry!” Sparkle said, forcing the words out around the choked noises in her throat. “You’re always sorry and look so hurt and sad I can’t just be mad at you and so somehow it’s never your fault!”

“I know,” Twilight answered. After a moment, she reached across the room with her magic, levitating a cloth off the table. It was a cloth that they both remembered using to clean their quills, and it was covered in old ink stains. A quick spell corrected that though, leaving it clear and bright, and Twilight levitated it up towards Sparkle. “Here.”

Sparkle took it, rubbing at her eyes with a weak “Thank you.” After a moment, she folded the cloth over her face and blew her nose.

“I could go, you know,” Twilight offered. “If one of us has to, you’re the original. You should get to stay.”

“I don’t want to stay,” Sparkle said, shaking her head sharply. “I don’t want to have to listen to them all planning to rescue you, wishing you were still there, Rainbow Dash looking so sad that I’m not around when I’m standing right in front of her.”

“I never thought of it that—”

“Of course you didn’t,” Sparkle said, her words cutting and caustic.

“No, I was a bit busy worrying about the fact that I’m probably dying! I’m so sorry that distracted me!” Twilight shouted, the words flying forth from her before she had a chance to restrain herself.

“So die already! Disappear, see if I care!”

“Maybe I will!” Twilight insisted, stomping her hoof against the stone.

“Fine!” Sparkle yelled.

“Fine!” Twilight yelled back.

And then, for a while, they had nothing to say—looking into each other’s eyes, their breath coming short and quick.

“You can’t leave Equestria,” Twilight finally spoke. “If I vanish, the others wouldn't be able to use the Elements of Harmony.”

“That’s not my problem, Twilight!” Sparkle shot back, defensive and quick—but her words were hollow.

“You’re not going to abandon your duty to all of Equestria just because you’re angry with me,” Twilight insisted, watching Sparkle closely. After a moment, Sparkle’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“No. I guess I’m not.” Her shoulders slumped, the energy running from her tone. “I-I’d like to be alone right now, Twilight.”

“Sparkle, I—”

“I thought I was done with this, Twilight!” Sparkle yelled, her voice cracking. “And now you’ve ruined everything again and I’d like to be alone right now!”

For a moment, Twilight started to pull away, her legs tensing to carry her out the door. Then, she stopped, reversing course and reaching out to Sparkle, putting a leg around the other pony’s withers.

“Don’t touch me!” Sparkle snapped, her breaths coming quicker as Twilight slid in closer to her, turning to face her as she pulled the other pony into a hug. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sparkle, I—” Twilight said, her head resting against the other pony’s.

“Shut up!” Sparkle shouted, her hooves futily pounding against Twilight’s side. Her voice rose higher and higher until it was little more than an incoherent squeak. “I hate you! I hate you so much!” she yelled, every word punctuated with a blow to the other pony’s side.

“I know,” Twilight said, and Sparkle started to sob.

They stayed there for a long time, embraced together on the little mat. Sparkle sobbed until she had no more tears, and then just lay there, sniffling and shivering, her head tucked in against Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight held her in turn, never once letting go, and though she didn’t make a sound, her own eyes glistened in turn, a few silent tears landing on Sparkle’s neck.

Neither of them could have said exactly how much time passed before they spoke again, but when Sparkle lifted her head, the sun’s light had made its way from the mat to the desk. She and Twilight were in shadow now, lying beside each other, Twilight’s head resting against her shoulders, their legs wrapped around one another.

“We’ve been here for a while,” she said, her eyes following the path of the light.

“Yeah,” Twilight agreed. A moment later, she added, “Are you feeling any better?”

“No,” Sparkle answered, lowering her head back to Twilight’s shoulder. “You?”

“Not really,” Twilight said, a quiet hiss of breath escaping her. “Do you still want to leave?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she said, shifting her head faintly against Twilight’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine leaving Shining, Mom, Dad, my friends in Ponyville. I don’t want to go. But so much has happened, I don’t know how I can stay. Even if it all went back to normal today, I’ve… done things—said things I can’t take back. It would never be right again.”

“Sparkle, they’ll forgive you for that. You can’t be blamed for my ac—”

“Princess Celestia rejected me,” Sparkle whispered, silencing Twilight in a moment. “I told her I loved her, and she thought I was just using her against you. She pushed me away and I…” Though she had no more tears, it took her a moment to go on, her voice tight and strained. “I went to Discord for advice. I don’t know why. All he did was berate me and insult me, but I just needed to talk to someone without worrying what they’d think of me and I…” She had to stop for a moment, and Twilight could barely make out her next words, “I’m so ashamed.”

Twilight’s mouth opened without a sound, and she lifted her head upwards, looking down at Sparkle with wide eyes. “You went to Discord for advice?” she asked, and Sparkle nodded. “But… why? I would never—” Twilight said, only to fall silent halfway through her sentence. “I… what did he say?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she answered, with a weak shake of her head. “That I’m the problem. That everypony is trying to make us get along, but that I’m just too stubborn and stupid and crazy. That I’m driving all my friends away. That all I have to do to fix things is get over it, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked, earning a sharp glare from Sparkle.

“Can you do it?” she demanded, giving Twilight a firm shove in the shoulder. “Can you look me in the eye and say that you’re over everything that’s happened? Honestly tell me you like me?”

“Well…” Twilight paused, her eyes traveling over Sparkle from forelock to fetlock. “No.”

“So why not?” Sparkle demanded, harsh and indignant.

“Because I just can’t stand your whining,” Twilight said, raising her voice as she glared right back at Sparkle. “You’re like a cross between a broken record and Rarity’s stupid cat! Screeching the same lines over and over—oh it’s too hard, oh my friends can’t stand me. You’re one of the Elements of Harmony and you’re sobbing like a foal who skinned her knee!”

“Oh, you’re right!” Sparkle yelled back, leaning in until she and Twilight were muzzle to muzzle. “I’m so sorry I let that all out! I should follow your lead and just bottle my emotions up until I explode!”

“At least I’m dealing with my problems!”

“Horseapples!” Sparkle held her ground, the two baring their teeth as they glowered into each other’s eyes. “You know what? That’s what I really hate about you! You’re so privileged. Did it even once occur to you that you’re doing better than me because Princess Luna and all the others are helping you while I’ve been stuck on my own? Did you once think of that?”

“Well maybe they’d help you more if you weren’t so arrogant you just assume you can fix everything on your own! Did you ever think about asking for help instead of just brooding?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from Ms. I-won’t-tell-anyone-I-think-I’m-dying!”

“At least I don’t drag everypony else down when I have a problem!”

“You sure managed to drag our friends into it! You dragged Mom and Dad into it!”

“Oh please!” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Mom already knew you were a basket case. You’re eighteen and you still act like you’re twelve!”

“Well that stupid haircut makes you look like you’re six!”

“It is not stupid! We’d look fine if it weren’t for your fat ugly face!”

For a moment, the two of them considered that.

Sparkle was the first to crack a smile, a hesitant, disbelieving little expression.

“I wasn’t previously aware I had a ‘fat ugly face,’” she said, her tone hesitant, but brighter than it had been for some time. “While you’re pointing out my other flaws, is there any chance I also have cooties?”

“Shut up,” Twilight grumbled, one leg folding over the other, her cheeks turning a faint pink as she looked down at the floor.

“Well I think your butt is dumb,” Sparkle replied, that smile transforming into a full-blown grin, traces of a giggle escaping in the wake of her words.

“Shut up!” Twilight insisted, but she was starting to smile as well, that blush in her cheeks brightening. “I haven’t argued with anyone like that since we were foals. I couldn’t think of anything!” She tapped her hooves together, quickly glancing between Sparkle and the floor. “It wasn’t that childish.”

“It was super childish and also you smell,” Sparkle said, starting to laugh in earnest.

“No, you!” Twilight insisted, and then they were both laughing. They laughed so hard they could barely breathe, and soon they spilled over onto the mat, landing next to each other on the ratty old cloth. “And—“ Twilight managed around deep spasms of laugher, barely able to form the words. “Don’t get me started on your annoying personal habits.”

“I’ll file my horn at the table if I like!” Sparkle said, and soon all conversation was lost. There was nothing but laughter for minutes on end, and all the relief that came with it. Finally, with some effort, Sparkle managed to choke out, “This—” Laughter overtook her, and it was several more moments before she could finish. “This is all completely stupid, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is,” Twilight agreed, reaching up to rub her tears away as the laughter subsided. “I still hate you,” she said, though there was no anger in her tone.

“Well, I hate you too,” Sparkle insisted, with a trace of humor, though her tone soon grew quieter and more serious. “I don’t know. What are we going to do about this?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said in turn. “Lunch?”

“I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too! I’m hungry,” Twilight said. “And that conversation is going to be long and unpleasant and, I don’t know, maybe not end well. I’d like to just… go relax. Have a day where everything is okay again.”

“With the others?” Sparkle asked, and Twilight nodded. “Okay, sure,” she agreed, sitting up as she finished. “Let’s go home.”

“—is I, the Queen of the Changelings! I have captured your beloved assistant Spike, and I compound my revenge by taking the form of your awesomest friend, Rainbow Dash! Now I will abscond with him to my profane and unhollowed, uh, unhallowed lair! Where you will never see him again! Forever! And there’s nothing you can do about it because no one pony can possibly defeat me! What? No, stop laughing! I’m a serious threat! Do not mock the changelings with your pony ways!”

Chapter 11

And then, Twilight, Sparkle, and their six friends all got together and talked about nothing.

More than that, they joked about nothing. They giggled about nothing. They told stories about nothing, and illustrated those stories with impressive hoof gestures that didn’t really mean anything. They promised to visit places they would never go, and recalled feelings they never had. It was shallow and they all knew it, but it was what they needed, for when a pony speaks of nothing, they may say nothing wrong.

Also, Rainbow Dash proved she could fit an entire cupcake up her nose. So, that was pretty entertaining.

Eventually though, the afternoon grew hot, and the conversation grew long, and the conversational void the seven ponies had so carefully constructed collapsed. Nature, after all, abhors a vacuum, and so substance gradually leaked into the discussion, one aborted comment and meaningful glance at a time. The seven ponies never acknowledged it, but they all felt the conversation slowing, calcifying, growing stiff and awkward. Until finally, it stopped. And there was silence.

“Well!” Rarity said after a moment, “That was refreshing. So good to get things back to normal. Shall we make our way back inside?”

Absolutely, said the ponies, each affirming in their own way that Rarity was correct on all points. As one, they rose, and made their way back across the palace grounds, past the gardens and the statues and towards the library tower. The ponies attempted to start a conversation along the way, but it wasn’t the same, and in time they found it easier to walk in silence.

“Um...” Fluttershy said, as they drew near the library tower. Her wings were tucked tight against her side as she spoke, and her eye flicked between Twilight and Sparkle uncertainly. “I’m, um. Glad you two were able to relax a bit. And get along again. Do you want to...” She swallowed. “Talk about it?”

Twilight and Sparkle shared a glance, one looking left, the other right. Both opened their mouths to answer, and then snapped their jaws shut when they saw the other about to speak. Each nodded at the other, and then pulled back, starting to speak only to stop again. It was only when they turned to look at Fluttershy that the symmetry was broken—Twilight continued to look left, while Sparkle had to turn her head the other way.

“Yes, Fluttershy,” Sparkle said. “But I think we need to talk about it on our own.” She turned her head to the library doors ahead of them, and then back to Twilight. “If you girls don’t mind us leaving you for a bit.”

“Nah. We’ll be fine.” Rainbow Dash blew off the comment with a wave of her hoof. “I have to go start community service anyway, remember? I was actually supposed to be there like, an hour ago. But I figure, I’m already in trouble. What are they going to do? Send me to jail?”

Riding on Applejack’s back, Spike raised a claw for attention, but before he could answer, Pinkie Pie shushed him and gently pushed his claw back down. Inside Rainbow Dash’s head, wheels turned, gears clicked. Mechanisms engaged and computed all possible outcomes. “Wait for it...” Pinkie Pie said, giggling as she spoke. “Wait for it...” Computations accelerated, sums were totaled, and inside Rainbow Dash’s head, something went bing. “There we go!”

Rainbow Dash’s ears perked up abruptly. “Oh shoot, I’m late! Uh... I gotta go!” Her wings flared up, and she leapt into the air, flying off into the city with a shout of: “Good luck!”

“Do you think she remembers she’s not supposed to fly in the city limits?” Fluttershy asked, as they all watched their friend retreat into the distance. The other ponies just chuckled or rolled their eyes in response, as Pinkie Pie giggled energetically.

“Probably not,” Twilight said, but there was a smile on her face when she said it, and her tone was more fond than concerned. “But somehow, I think she’ll be fine. Why don’t you girls go on ahead? Sparkle and I will join you soon.”

“Alright.” Applejack twitched an ear, moving inside along with the others. Before she could go inside however, Spike reached up to tap her shoulder, and then leaned over to whisper in her ear. Applejack paused in the doorway as Spike spoke to her, and then turned back to the two purple unicorns behind her. “And uh... you two take your time. Ah know the girls’n I have been tryin’ to hurry you along to recovery. But you take all the time y’need. Some wounds just take time to heal. No need to rush it.”

“Sure, Applejack,” Sparkle said. “And, Spike?” she asked. Spike looked alert, just in time for a purple haze to surround him, floating him over Sparkle’s way. “Thanks,” she whispered, leaning in to touch her nose to his, and then wrapping him up in a gentle hug.

After a moment, she passed him off to Twilight, where he received a second hug, and then she bumped his nose with her hoof. “Now run along,” Twilight said, releasing Spike from her magical grip. Spike promptly nodded, wishing them both good luck before hurrying back to Applejack. Pony and dragon alike went back into the library, and the door shut behind them with a click. Then, Twilight and Sparkle were alone on the library steps.

They didn’t talk for a bit.

“Thank you for passing Spike over to me,” Twilight finally said, lifting one ear as she considered her counterpart. “It was nice of you.”

“I didn’t like it,” Sparkle said quietly, her own ears tucked back against her head. She didn’t look up at Twilight, keeping her gaze firmly on the dirt.

“And I didn’t like that you get to hug him first,” Twilight answered, more firmly. “But does that matter? The whole point of today is that we’re being petty and jealous over nothing. I mean, this is all stupid, right?”

Sparkle swallowed. Flicked her tail. “It doesn’t feel as stupid as it did two hours ago.”

“Yeah.” Twilight sighed. “I know.” Her gaze returned to the ground as well, and another long silence passed between them. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she finally asked.

“Okay,” Sparkle said, turning to move off. The two did not discuss their destination, but instinctively, they began moving in the same direction—off towards the hedge maze. They walked side by side in silence for a time, moving among the trees and hedges and the silent guards.

“You know,” Twilight abruptly spoke, the words coming out so suddenly that Sparkle actually jumped, “there’s an argument that what you did was more virtuous because you didn’t enjoy it. It’s easy to do something that you like. Doing something that you dislike because you know it’s the right thing to do takes willpower.”

When Sparkle recovered her wits—and lifted her head—she found Twilight watching her with a strange expression. Almost pleading. It was enough to give Sparkle pause, but only for a moment, and when she recovered, she let out a breath and shook her head. “I didn’t do it because it was the right thing to do,” she insisted. “I just like seeing Spike happy.”

“Wow. Trying to make a small child happy. You really are selfish,” Twilight said. That earned her a glare from Sparkle, which she attempted to weather, holding her ground with a defiant flick of her tail. Twilight’s will didn’t hold though, and a moment later, she looked off in the other direction. “It’s still stupid.”

“I don’t want to see him get hurt. Don’t read too much into it,” Sparkle insisted, as the two made their way into the hedge. “You know you’re basically his...” The word stuck in Sparkle’s throat, but she made herself press on. “You know you’re basically his mother, right?”

“No I’m not,” Twilight blurted out at once. “I mean,” she stammered, very pointedly looking off at some indistinct point deeper in the maze. “I’m more like his older sister.”

“Because it messes children up that badly when their older siblings fight,” Sparkle insisted, the words emerging harsher than she had meant them. That dropped the conversation into a lull, a near silence, broken only by the steady thumping of hooves on dirt. The two continued to make their way through the maze on rote. Their minds were distracted, but their legs knew the way.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Sparkle finally broke the tension. “All I meant was... I know you feel like you’re too young to be a mother. Because I feel like I’m too young to be a mother. But—”

“I know,” Twilight said. “And you’re right, of course. You’re right.” They moved another few steps along. “I’m glad one of us finally said it.” Again there was a silence, but this time it was brief, and Twilight turned to her counterpart. “I’m also glad you knew I felt that way.”

“I feel that way,” Sparkle said with a shake of her head. “It was pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, but you and I haven't always... been the best, at acknowledging we feel the same way the other does,” Twilight said. “For instance, I know that you think my haircut looks stupid and childish and that I only keep it because I’m afraid of change.”

“Yeah?” Sparkle retorted. “Well I know that you think the reason I’ve never had a coltfriend is because I’m an arrogant, asocial recluse who can’t bring herself down to a stallion’s level.”

“Snob,” Twilight snorted.

“Jerk!” Sparkle snapped.

Then they both laughed. It wasn’t an eager laugh like before—just a little chuckle—but it carried them into the center of the hedge maze, and up to the little grove of trees therein.

“We’re a little absurd, aren’t we?” Twilight asked.

“A little,” Sparkle agreed. She settled down in the shade of the trees, lowering her body down to the grass. “But I still don’t feel right.” She watched as Twilight sat down opposite her, twitching one of her ears. “And I still want to leave. I don’t know if I will, but... I want to.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, with a measured tone. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but knew she had to proceed carefully, and so a few moments of silent thought passed before she asked, “Why?”

“Because even if we sort everything out.” Sparkle gestured between them with a hoof. “Even if we...” She gave a faint shrug. “All this. Do you really want to be one of the Twilight Sparkles? To just be one of a set instead of an individual?”

“We’ll be individuals,” Twilight replied, trying to keep her tone upbeat. “We’re already starting to diverge based on our experiences since the spell. You’re more dour than me, I think.”

“And you’re more elemental,” Sparkle agreed. That made Twilight blink, glancing down at her hoof as she tried to work out just what elemental meant in that context. “But it’s not that simple. We’ll always both be the pony who fought Nightmare Moon. We’ll always have to listen to friends joke with another pony about things we did. We’ll both be the Element of Magic and Shining’s little sister and...” She fiddled with the dirt with her hooves. “And even if we’re not, isn’t that worse? If after that fight I had with Princess Celestia, after all the things I said, she accepts you...”

Sparkle lowered her head, shut her eyes, and went on. “A-and it’s not just selfish. I’m not just worried you’ll turn out better than me. I don’t think I could stand it the other way either. If I worked out great and I had to see some emotionally troubled, rejected version of me slouching around town. Stars, that would be awful...”

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” Twilight said, but Sparkle only snorted.

“You feel the same way. You’re just saying that because we love to argue,” she said dismissively, not even bothering to look up.

“Well... yeah!” Twilight said. “We do. But maybe that’s good! Maybe we need somepony to argue with us when we’re being emotional, and... isn’t a good debate part of the scientific process? Whatever happened to our love of discovery?”

Sparkle was, reluctantly, forced to admit that she did love proper scientific procedure. And discovering things. She admitted both of these points via the mechanism of twitching an ear and saying nothing.

“Isn’t it...” Twilight continued, hesitating for a moment before pressing on, “Isn’t it possible that we just turn out different without being better or worse? Yes you... had a fight with Celestia.” Twilight froze for a moment, uncertain if trying to smooth that over would come across as cruel or insensitive. “And... and I can’t imagine what that’s like. And I’m sorry. But maybe that just means you turn out more independent than me. Maybe it means you’re more mature. A pony’s life is complicated; you can’t just boil it down to ‘better’ or ‘worse.’ We’re not that judgemental. Are we?”

“We can be,” Sparkle answered. “Have been.”

“We’ve been angry before too,” Twilight insisted, not giving any ground. “Are we an angry pony?”

“Well, you kind of are,” Sparkle answered, but by now, her ears were perking up, and she opened her eyes again.

“I’m not angry; I’m elemental,” Twilight replied, with a cheerful twist to her tone. She smiled as Sparkle lifted her head, bashfully looking away a moment later. “Sorry. I just do like arguing with ponies.”

“We do love a good debate,” Sparkle agreed. She was up by that point, and alert, but her face did not mirror Twilight’s smile. “But do you really believe that’s what’s going to happen? Or are you just being contrary?”

“It might happen that way,” Twilight answered, adding an enthusiastic little kick to her words. “We don’t know. That’s the point.”

Sparkle’s expression was unmoved, and while she didn’t glower or grumble, her tone was equally static as she replied, “But you don’t think it will happen that way.”

“It might!” Twilight insisted, her cheerful tone growing strained.

“But you don’t think it will,” Sparkle said.

“No I don’t think it will, but I don’t think it won’t either!” Twilight snapped. Her impulse was to lean in close to glare at Sparkle, but she’d no sooner started the action then she remembered just what recent experiences that would drag up. Quickly, she looked off into the bushes, stammering as she tried to recover her thoughts.

“I don’t,” she stammered out, trying to speak quickly before she lost her place, “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Okay? None of us do. For all I know, I could be dying. Or maybe not! I’m basically a golem, right? Fabricated matter and come-to-life magic. Maybe I never age. Maybe I’ll live forever. Maybe one of us will get a coltfriend who really isn’t interested in the other. I don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t care! I just want us to stop fighting because we’re hurting everypony around us.”

“I want us to stop fighting too, Twilight.” Sparkle’s tone remain unmoved, and she shook her head. “But the formula for less fighting isn’t more optimism. Insisting everything was fine when it wasn’t is what got us into this mess in the first place. Maybe, deep down, we can’t stand each other and this isn’t going to work. Can we at least acknowledge the possibility?”

“Yes, fine, we can acknowledge the possibility of giving up before we’ve even started!” Twilight rose to her hooves, stalking off a few paces into the garden and letting out a loud, “Ugh!”

Sparkle said nothing, and instead, watched her counterpart as she angrily paced back and forth, her head held low and her tail lashing this way and that. “And worse, you’re the one who acknowledged that we’re like Spike’s parents, and now you want to take that away from him!? I can’t believe you! You’re so selfish and-” Her rant abruptly ended in a loud snort, and she kicked a hoof down into the dirt.

Sparkle gave Twilight some time. Watching her breathe and slowly calm herself. “You know that this is what I meant when I said you were elemental, right?” Sparkle asked. “You’re cheer and sunshine one moment and snorting fire the next.”

“I know!” Twilight growled, pausing her pacing to turn and face her duplicate. “I know I’m...” Her tone softened. “I know I’m moody, okay?” She looked back to the hedges. “It’s probably nothing.”

“What do you mean, ‘probably?’” Sparkle asked.

“Like you don’t know,” Twilight said, adding another dismissive snort and a stamp of a hoof.

“No, actually, I don’t!” Sparkle said, bristling faintly under the accusation. “Whatever thought you had clearly came to you after we split, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, it’s obvious.” Twilight turned to face her counterpart. She consciously forced herself not to glare, but she did lean in close, lowering her head to Sparkle’s level. “You created a magical creature using a spell you don’t understand, and now it’s behaving oddly. Not the way it’s supposed to. What’s your first conclusion?”

Sparkle leaned back from Twilight’s intrusion—lifted her head and perked up her ears and watched Twilight closely. “You think I cast the spell wrong?”

“I don’t know if you did!” Twilight turned away sharply, pacing a tight circuit around the trees. “I don’t know if you didn’t. I just know I didn’t used to act this way. And yeah, maybe it’s because we’re stressed out. You’re certainly acting differently. But maybe it’s not.” Her circuit tightened and her pace accelerated, mirrored by a tightening in her throat, and her quickening speech.

“What if the spell never worked in the first place? What if it produces imperfect copies? What if I have poor impulse control? What if I have explosive rage? What if I’m just evil? Princess Luna said she saw darkness in my heart and...” Twilight choked up a moment, and had to swallow before she could go on. “And I believe her. But was it there before? I don’t know!”

Her tone grew increasingly erratic as she went on, her voice wavering up and down. “And even if I am sane, that doesn’t make me a perfect copy. I’m a golem—made of conjured flesh. Do I age? Can I ever have foals? I never thought about foals before, but now that I’m pretty sure I can’t have them it’s suddenly a big deal!”

She lowered her head, her hooves tearing up the earth with the ferocity of her steps. “And what if I’m a copy of you at a specific point in time? What if I can’t change, or learn, or grow as a person?” Her voice briefly cracked, but she pressed on undaunted. “What if I just stay the same eighteen-year old mare forever while you grow up and become what Twilight Sparkle is supposed to be? What if you have a destiny and I just have to watch? What if...”

Twilight’s extended rant was cut off by an ugly, rough croaking sound in her throat. Her vision blurred as tears formed in her eyes, and she came to a halt. After a moment of fruitless rubbing and aborted attempts to speak, she squeezed her eyes shut, lowering her muzzle to the grass and letting the tears fall away to the earth under their own weight. “And now I’m crying,” she said, her voice worn and ragged. “Elemental was right. Upbeat then angry then grim then weepy in what, five minutes?” She shook her head, trying to clear the tears. “Forget it, I’m going to—”

Twilight felt Sparkle’s forelegs wrap around her shoulders—slide over her neck and pull her in close. Sparkle was there beside her, pressed up against her so their heads were side by side. “I didn’t know,” Sparkle whispered, squeezing Twilight all the tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know because I didn’t think about it, and I didn’t think about it because I’m selfish. But I swear, I didn’t know.”

Twilight pulled away and turned her head so she could look at Sparkle. Her vision was still blurred by tears, but she could hear perfectly well. She could hear the wavering in Sparkle’s voice, and the pain in her words, and when she rubbed the tears away one more time, she saw that Sparkle's eyes were clouded as well. “I never thought about foals or you being a pony or... or any of that! I only...”

As Sparkle trailed off, Twilight leaned over to hug her back, and soon they embraced. Twilight didn’t tell her it was okay, or that everything would be fine. But she didn’t pull away either. And so they sat there and hugged and sniffled for what felt like a very long time, though in reality it was only a couple of minutes.

It was Sparkle who finally broke the silence, as their mutual sniffles wore down. “I was just thinking about that first night. I know you feel bad you hurt a pony. Attacked me. And that’s not okay. But... stars. The scream you made. And I realized I’d made a living thing just so I could kill it. It wasn’t like fighting or getting angry. It was just something dying and...”

Sparkle pulled back as the hug naturally loosened. “It was all I could think about when I saw you. And when you did something I didn’t like—when Applejack took my name away and gave it to you—all I could think about was that moment. What I owed you for doing that to you. So I bottled up those feelings and shoved them away until...”

“Until you started to resent me,” Twilight said. Sparkle nodded. Both of them looked away after that and tilted their heads to the ground—one left, one right. “Is that it then? I hate you because I thought you were ignoring my pain, and you hate me because you bottled up all that guilt?”

“I think there’s more to it than that,” Sparkle said quietly. “Like what happened up on the tower roof.” She almost stopped there, but made herself press on. “That’s why you exploded like that, isn’t it? You were afraid that those feelings were a sign you were going mad. And you were relieved I had them as well. And then—”

“And then you betrayed me,” Twilight said, letting the words out with a sudden torrent of bitterness. An anger that washed her tone of all the sadness and understanding of the last few minutes.

“Yeah,” Sparkle agreed. “I did.” After a time, she added, “I do like magic. I like using magic. I like changing the world. And I like how power feels. And that scares me sometimes.” She twitched an ear. “I’m sorry.”

Twilight snorted. Flicked her tail. “Luna says that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us.”

“What about being so angry or selfish we nearly kill another pony? Does that mean there’s something wrong with us?” Sparkle demanded, a trace of bitterness showing itself in her tone. She regretted it at once however, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. “No. No, I’m sorry. That was childish.”

“Yeah, it was,” Twilight insisted, as sharply as she has spoken a moment ago. She too regretted though, and a moment later spoke with a more moderated tone. “But, I’ve been stupid and emotional all day. So if you want to be stupid and emotional for a little while, it is your turn.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” Sparkle gave a humorless smile, that remained on her face for only a fleeting moment. “So what happens now then?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you knew,” Twilight said. After a moment, she moved to the space beside Sparkle and sat down. Sparkle settled down as well, and the two rested side by side. “We could apologize. But we’ve done that a lot already.”

“I could help Princess Luna and Princess Celestia unravel that spell so we’ll know the answers to all your questions,” Sparkle suggested. “But... they know a lot more about magic than me, and that spell is—”

“It’s okay,” Twilight said. “I spent a lot of time going over it myself in the library. I can’t tell if it’s beyond us or if Starswirl made it intentionally obtuse to stop it from being modified. But... yes.”

The two sat in silence for another several minutes. This time was different though, because for them, it wasn’t really silent. They heard the wind rustling the trees and the bushes, the distant sound of ponies walking through the palace gardens. They leaned against each other, each heard the other breathe, and after a time, their breaths fell into synch.

“I want to spend more time with Spike,” Sparkle said. “We spend a lot of time with him already, but he’s always being our assistant or doing chores or something. I want to spend more time just being with him.”

“I’d like that,” Twilight said. “Do you want to take turns?”

“Isn’t that a little cold?” Sparkle asked. “I don’t want him to think we’re keeping score.”

“I don’t want him to think that either, but we’ll have to work out some kind of system,” Twilight said, adding after a moment’s hesitation, “Assuming you don’t still want to leave, of course.”

“You didn’t actually address any of those objections, you know,” Sparkle said quietly. “I do feel better, after talking to you like this. But it still makes my skin crawl when I see them laughing with you about things I did. When I see them for the first time but they’ve been talking to me all day. I hate it. Maybe we go through all this and we still end up killing each other.”

“Maybe,” Twilight agreed. “But we have to try, don’t we? For Spike and for the others?”

“We do,” Sparkle agreed. Then, after a moment, she said. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Um...” Twilight turned her head,, wondering what her counterpart was planning. She saw nothing in Sparkle’s expression, which was flat, and perhaps a bit thoughtful. “Sure?”

“Could you cut my hair?” Sparkle asked, looking back. “I hate the way those bangs look on you. You hate the way they look on me. We just keep them because it’s easy and we know them and sometimes we get comfortable, and I don’t like that. So will you cut my mane?” Twilight tilted her head. “I’ll do yours if you want.”

“I don’t know if we have any books on cutting hair in the library here,” Twilight said, adding a warning, “Even if we do, it’ll probably look really bad.”

“That’s okay,” Sparkle nodded. “It’s not about how it looks. I want to feel like I’m moving forward. Like we’re not stuck in this awful rut.”

“Then, sure. Of course I’ll cut your hair,” Twilight said. She leaned back over towards Sparkle, both of them looking off into the distance, towards the topiary statues of their friends. “Got a third resolution for the checklist?”

“Huh?” Sparkle asked, flicking an ear, caught off guard by the odd question.

“Spend more time with Spike,” Twilight said. “Cut your hair. Those are things you don’t like about yourself, so you don’t like seeing them in me. And now you’re trying to fix them. That sounds like a list of resolutions to me. And obviously it has to be a checklist. How else would we check the list to see if they’re done?”

“We could use our eyes,” Sparkle said, starting to smile a little.

“No that’s stupid,” Twilight said. A moment later, they both laughed.

“Okay, okay,” Sparkle said. Her horn glowed, and a moment later, a roll of parchment and a quill appeared out of midair, retrieved from their stash back home. “So, item one. Spend more time with Spike.” Her quill scribbled as she spoke, drawing an elegant box, and a little sketch of Spike next to it, along with a few lines of text. “Item two. Cut our hair. Your turn.”

“Ask a stallion out,” Twilight said, earning a skeptical glance from Sparkle for the bargain. “What?” she asked. “I’m not saying we have to find true love. I just think it might help us be a little less awkward.”

“Okay...” Sparkle turned back to the list. “So, like, one stallion between us, or...”

“Ewww!” Twilight scrunched up her face. “No! Where’d you get that that idea?”

“Shining Armor,” Sparkle said, a bit of a blush rising to her cheeks. “I asked him what he would do if there were two of him, and uh... him and Cadence...” Twilight looked confused. So Sparkle made a remarkably illustrative hoof-gesture. Remarkably.

“Ewww!” Twilight scrunched her face up further, the blush on Sparkle’s cheeks soon mirrored on hers. “I did not want to know that!”

“I didn’t want to know it either, but he told me!” Sparkle insisted. “And if I have to live with knowing that, so do you!”

“Okay, fine! Item three. Ask out one stallion each. Separately!” Twilight said, pointing sharply at the parchment. Sparkle wrote quickly, adding a third box illustrated with a little rosy heart, her neat calligraphy beside the simple drawing. “Phew,” she said when the writing was done, and both of them exchanged a silly little laugh, letting out a breath and looking at the page.

“Dibs on Big Mac,” Sparkle added quickly, scribbling one more line onto the entry. Twilight had just started to blurt out the same, but finished a moment too late, and was left fuming as Sparkle added the point to their checklist. “Oh don’t look that way. Time Turner is really nice. He can even tell us apart.”

“So you ask him out, and I’ll ask out Big Mac,” Twilight said, more than a trace of skepticism in her tone. But Sparkle only giggled, and Twilight finally relented. “Okay, um... item four...” She tapped a hoof to her chin.

“I want to make up with Princess Celestia,” she said.

The quill froze above the page, and Sparkle’s expression froze with it—her lighthearted smile quickly fading. “You didn’t have a fight with Celestia,” she said.

“I sort of did,” Twilight said, speaking slowly and quietly to try to soften the news. “You and Celestia talked about feelings you had before we split, which means the next time I talk to her, it’s going to...”

Sparkle put the paper down and looked away, her ears folding back against her head. “Sparkle,” Twilight said, trying to lean around to see her counterpart’s face. “I don’t mean it that way.”

“There’s not another way to mean it, Twilight,” she said, and though she kept herself from snapping, tension returned to her voice. “If Celestia wants to judge you based on things I told her, that’s between the two of you.”

“You don’t think it’d be better if we went to her together?” Twilight asked, keeping her tone level so as not to rise to the bait.

“I don’t think I really care what Celestia thinks about us anymore,” Sparkle said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t know half as much as she pretends to.”

Twilight’s ears raised, and her tail did as well, her eyes narrowing. It was lucky that her that Sparkle did not see, for a moment later, Twilight thought better of her instinctive reaction. She forced herself to relax her muscles, to lower her tail, to soften the angry words she had been about to spit forth. “That’s not true, Sparkle. You love Celestia. I love Celestia. I believe that she hurt you. Maybe she hurt you badly enough your relationship will never be quite the same. But you do care about her.”

Twilight waited, but Sparkle said nothing, and so after a few seconds, Twilight pressed on. “We’ve both got a lot of things to let go of. That was one of the things Princess Luna told me.” Twilight swallowed. “She also said that there’s nothing wrong with us if we want to... you know.” She nudged the ground with a hoof. “Get Celestia a Mother’s Day gift once in awhile.”

Sparkle looked up sharply, the movement so abrupt that Twilight actually shrunk back. “I-I mean,” she stammered. “That’s not up to Luna to decide. But she pointed out that it’s not really about us either, or even about Celestia. It’s about if acknowledging Celestia as a mother figure is hurting or excluding Mom, and... well. It’s not. Mom understands us. She understands what we’re going through. She even understood when you didn’t come to see her. And...”

Twilight swallowed, and forced her tone to normalize. “She’s still in town. She’d like it if you came tonight.”

Sparkle said nothing, but gradually, the glow to her horn returned. The quill levitated from where it rested, and a fourth box was added to the checklist. “Patch things up with Mom.” Then, a fifth box, “Patch things up with giant alicorn mom who is also a princess.”

Each smiled a little at that, and then looked off into the grass.

“I’m still mad at her,” Sparkle said after a moment, flicking her ear firmly to emphasize her position.

“I know,” Twilight nodded. “And, I think we’re both going to be mad. Maybe for a while. We’ve talked a lot today, but we’ve talked before and... well. It’s not that easy.” She paused. “But we’ll get better.”

Sparkle said nothing for a time, though she did turn back to the list. Her eyes darted left to right and top to bottom as she scanned the page, only to return to the top and do it again, reviewing the items over and over again. Finally, she lifted the quill, and added one last box: “Write a friendship report.”

“For Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked, but Sparkle shook her head.

“No,” she said as she put the quill down. “I don’t want to send it to her. At least not right now. Not when I’m this angry with her. But I do want to write it. Studying friendship in Ponyville is what my... our, life was about. And I want to get back to that.”

“Well... here, then,” Twilight took the quill from Sparkle, and a moment later, conjured another roll of parchment. She stretched the parchment out and pressed it down to the grass, looking expectantly to her counterpart. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, I didn’t...” Sparkle shook her head. “I just meant sometime. Not now. We’ve talked a lot today but I don’t think I’m—”

“It doesn’t have to be good.” Twilight shook her head. “Or even coherent. But it’s about feeling like we’re moving forward, right? No time like the present.”

It took her a second to think it over, but soon Sparkle nodded. She took a moment to get comfortable—shifting her legs and drawing a breath. “Dear...” she began, only to hesitate. Her jaw opened, but no sound emerged, and the relaxed pose she had only just assumed started to stiffen.

“Princess Luna?” Twilight suggested, unaware of the gleeful giggling and my-stupid-sister-can-bite-me victory dance that was at that very moment occurring in Canterlot Palace.

“No, it’s okay,” Sparkle said, bringing the dance to its abrupt end. “Dear Princess Celestia,” she began again. Quickly, Twilight moved to faithfully record the words. “Today I learned...”

She paused and wondered just what, if anything, she had learned. She has talked a great deal with Twilight, it was true, and she felt like they had made progress, but what had they actually resolved? It was only when Sparkle stopped to think that she realized the conversation had wandered from topic to topic without ever really dwelling on any point long enough to settle it.

“I...” She drew the word out as she thought. Twilight frowned, but said nothing, holding the quill at the ready for when Sparkle next spoke. Sparkle looked at Twilight as she thought, wondering how she would tell Twilight to stop. Doing the letter right now had all been Twilight’s idea, hadn’t it? Sparkle knew that all she had to do was say she wasn’t ready. But she couldn't say that. How could she say she learned nothing after all this? What kind of a student would that make her? And so, she spoke.

“Today I learned just how easy it is to hurt a pony,” she said, and Twilight diligently transcribed her words, “and how easy it is to be hurt. I always imagined cruelty as a product of malevolence—that ponies hurt each other because they were selfish, or angry, or spiteful. But I learned today that that’s not always true. I was cruel to another pony, and hurt her very badly, not because I meant her any harm, but because I didn’t care. I didn’t care enough to see things from her point of view. I didn’t stop and think. I was thoughtless.”

Sparkle paused to give Twilight time to catch up. She needed a moment to think about the next part anyway, and when she continued, her words were less hesitant. “And now we’ve both paid the price for my mistake. I hurt her, and some part of her wanted to hurt me back. So she did. She...” Sparkle trailed off for a moment, folding her ears back as she looked at Twilight, “did things that I can’t forgive.”

Twilight paused a moment in her writing. Her expression flickered uncertainly, but she set her teeth and made herself press on, transcribing Sparkle’s observations word for word.

“And now,” Sparkle said, sighing and shaking her head, “I don’t know if things will be okay.” She twitched an ear. “But, if there is something good to come of this, it’s that I know how important it is that I always try to see things from the other pony’s point of view. A single moment of neglect is all it takes to inflict a wound that may never heal, but if I’m thoughtful, and understanding, and open with the ponies around me, they’ll be open with me. And maybe then this never needs to happen again.”

She drew a breath. Let it out through her nose. “Also, I’m not saying you were a huge jerk to me last night for no reason, but an apology wouldn’t be out of place. Maybe something like ‘Hey, I’m sorry I was such a bad mentor that the Spirit of Chaos ranked favorably in comparison!’ Not that you’re a bad mentor in general, actually you’re excellent, but your handling of this latest crisis? C+ work at best. See me after class! Oh, and on that note, you and my mom might need to work some stuff out.”

Twilight discreetly stopped writing.

“Ahem,” Sparkle cleared her throat. “Your faithful student, Sparkle.”

Twilight signed at the end, dotted, and then put the quill down on the paper. “It might need some editing,” she said, after a second. She didn’t look at Sparkle, and Sparkle’s expression slowly grew concerned. “I think I like it though,” she finally said.

“Do you want to add anything?” Sparkle asked, a moment later, she added quickly, “Because, that’s just me! You can get something different out of it and that’s not wrong. We don’t have to write these letters together. If you learned something totally different from the conversation we can—”

Twilight turned back as Sparkle’s pace picked up, and just as she looked ready to panic, silenced her with a gentle tap of a hoof to her muzzle. “I think that’s enough for now,” she said. “I don’t think one letter is going to cover this one. A lot happened between us, and we both made a lot of mistakes, but...” She glanced at the letter. “This is a good start.”

“Heh... okay,” Sparkle said, hesitantly tapping the ground with a hoof. “You want to go back and see the others? We’ve been out here for a while.”

“Yeah. Let’s not worry them,” Twilight said. The two of them rose and, side by side, they walked back to the library.

When they arrived, their friends were waiting for them.

Chapter 12

Not much happened after that.

Which is to say, of course, that quite a lot happened after that. There was hugging and sweet words, awkward silences and sullen glares, shouting and fights that nearly came to blows. There were professions of love and friendship, bitterness and futility, and reconciliations both genuine and forced. But somehow, none of it ever seemed to come to much. The drama was simply a part of life, which otherwise went on.

Thus, time traveled without landmarks. There was no day when the ponies left Canterlot. Instead, Applejack and Rarity started making trips back to tend to their businesses. Then Fluttershy for her animals. Then, the trips became longer, as the demands of their lives pressed and Twilight and Sparkle’s need for their help seemed less urgent. Eventually, Applejack was spending more time in Ponyville than in Canterlot. Then Rarity was. Pinkie Pie was next. Then Fluttershy.

Rainbow Dash stayed the longest, on account of her community service, and the two troubled mares welcomed her company. She never pulled away from them, vowing to stay in Canterlot as long as they did, but they did not let her keep that oath. As the angry letters from the rest of the weather team piled up alongside reports of freak storms in Ponyville, Twilight and Sparkle each insisted that Rainbow Dash return home. Rainbow was stubborn, and refused to be persuaded. She had less luck resisting being teleported. Even that wasn’t a clean break though, as Rainbow simply flew back, and it took several days and as many trips before she reluctantly gave in.

Then, there were only two ponies who had yet to return to Ponyville, and their return was equally unceremonious. There was no great lesson learned, just many letters written, many little talks had, and eventually Celestia decided they’d been living together long enough without incident that they could safely return home. So they did.

Ponyville had missed them, and had many adventures in store. The return of Trixie and the Alicorn Amulet gave the mirrored mares a chance to work together against a common foe, and many ponies were pleased that the battle only destroyed Ponyville a little bit. Discord’s surprising assistance to Sparkle prompted Celestia to try to reform him, and though Sparkle did find his presence oddly comforting, in the end it was Fluttershy who tamed the beast. There was even an incident where Pinkie Pie discovered a “mirror pool” and briefly sent Twilight and Sparkle alike into fits of panic. Luckily, the real Pinkie was able to explain that the duplicates were not true copies, and so it would not be in the least morally ambiguous to simply vaporize them.

Still, adventures were hardly uncommon in Ponyville, and so many of the ponies involved would have insisted that nothing really happened. Things changed, yes, but not all at once. Not quickly. Not significantly. Until suddenly, they did.

“You are cordially invited,” Spike read aloud, giving what some would have considered an unearned degree of class to the pink and glitter-encrusted card in front of him. “To Twilight’s first-or-maybe-eighteenth-depending-on-how-you-look-at-it-life-is-complicated birthday party, celebrating one full year of the best new pony in Ponyville. There will be punch and games and music and dancing and pin the tail on the pony, and even an extra special visit from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, but don’t tell anypony because it’s supposed to be a secret since they don’t want it to be a big deal or anything.”

Spike briefly checked out the window where he could see that, yes, Pinkie was out making deliveries to every single pony in Ponyville. Sparkle used that time to look at Twilight, who merely looked away. She seemed embarrassed about something, a heat in her cheeks and a stiffness in her pose as Spike resumed his reading.

“The mare of honor has asked that nopony bring gifts, because the best gift of all is an evening with all her friends in Ponyville. And uh... then it just has the date and place. Which is here. Tonight,” Spike finished, looking between the two ponies in front of him. After a moment, his gaze settled on Twilight, “Is that why you had me make sure everything was tidy last night?”

“It is,” Twilight said, her tail flicking back and forth. She looked stiff, even uncomfortable, but when she lifted her head to look at Spike, she found a smile that seemed to travel all the way up her face. “Pinkie Pie is handling all the arrangements and all the cleaning after. I also finished up the correspondence last night and burned through all of this week’s to-do list. I thought you should take the next few days off.”

“Wow. The next few days?” Spike blinked. “I thought the party ended at eleven.”

Sparkle laughed—an airy little giggle—but Twilight didn’t. She just kept smiling that odd smile. “It does. I wanted the three of us to have some time together that evening after. But I also wanted you to have some time for yourself. Consider it an early birthday gift.” She reached out to playfully push back Spike’s spike, like she were ruffling his imaginary mane. “You know. One that won't trigger a certain dragon’s hoarding reflex.”

“Heh. Yeah,” Spike smiled, turning to look at Sparkle. “Can I?”

“Sure,” Sparkle agreed. “In fact, why don’t you run along now? I think Apple Bloom and her friends just got out of school. You could go play.”

Spike looked dubious, but Twilight and Sparkle both gave him a firm look, and he turned towards the library door. “Fine!” he said, throwing up his arms. “I’ll give them another chance.”

“Remember to be back by five,” Twilight said, adding, “Oh, and Spike?” As she spoke, a purple glow surrounded him, and he floated back into her grasp. “You know I love you, right?” she asked as she gently hugged him with her forelegs. “We both do.”

“Uh, yeah,” Spike said, enduring the hug with an exasperated look. “I haven’t forgotten in the ten minutes since you last told me.” Instead of acknowledging Spike’s objection, Twilight kissed the top of his head, and gave him one last squeeze before she let him go. “Eesh. I love you too, Twilight,” Spike said as he stepped away, rubbing the top of his head. “What’s with you today?”

“It’s my birthday,” Twilight said. “I’m allowed to be sentimental. Now run along and have fun.”

Spike checked with Sparkle before he ran out—just in case he had to give another hug to even the scales—but she just nodded and then nudged him towards the door with her muzzle. “You heard the mare. Go make friends.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in time for the party,” Spike said, running down the little steps into the main room of the library, and then out the door into Ponyville. Both mares watched him go, and then listened until they heard the sound of the door shutting behind him.

“You could have told me,” Sparkle said, turning an accusative gaze to Twilight and flicking her tail sharply. “I assume that’s what that mysterious trip back to Canterlot last month was about?”

“Mmm,” Twilight said, looking out the window after Spike instead of watching Sparkle. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I...” She bit her lip, and her ears folded back. “It’s a big day for me. That’s all. I wanted it to be special for everypony. A nice surprise and some good memories.” She paused again. “I didn’t want it to be a big production.”

“I understand,” Sparkle said, frowning slightly. “But invitations the day of the party is kind of last-moment. What if not everypony can make it?”

“I discreetly checked with them in advance,” Twilight said. “All the girls will be able to make it. Most of Ponyville too, probably. I couldn't check with everypony obviously, but... well. I’m sorry.”

When Twilight trailed off for the second time and turned her gaze to the floor, Sparkle rose from where she sat, stepping up alongside her counterpart. “It’s fine,” she assured Twilight. “Really, you don’t need to apologize. Are you okay though? Do you want to... talk about anything?”

“No thanks. I was just going to go see the girls,” Twilight said. Finally, she turned away from the window to look at Sparkle.

They didn’t really look like each other anymore. Sparkle’s mane was shorter and swept back, and she kept her tail in a brush, held together by a hair-tie at the base. Twilight had let her mane and tail grow long, and brushed them straight with a little twist at the ends. Sparkle polished her hooves. Twilight didn’t. A steady diet of alfalfa smoothies had given Twilight’s coat a slight sheen, while Sparkle—never having been introduced to the beverage by Time Turner—had a more plain coloration. None of the changes were extreme, but the two didn’t get mistaken for each other. Ponies passing through town didn’t ask questions. They were just two sisters.

“Okay,” Sparkle said, pausing under the odd scrutiny. She wondered what Twilight was thinking, but her mirror-image’s expression revealed nothing. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything though? I did notice what day it was, but I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.” Sparkle paused. “You can still celebrate our old birthday as well if you want.”

That made Twilight smile. “No, thank you. I’ll want to talk more this evening, once Spike is here, but for now I should get going.” She glanced at the door, but didn’t yet move, returning her gaze to Sparkle. “But before I go, there was one thing actually.”

“Yeah?” Sparkle asked.

“Could I have a hug?” Twilight replied.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. A silence hung in the library, lasting just a moment too long to go unnoticed. “Uh... sure,” Sparkle blurted out. “Sure. Of course.” She immediately leaned over and put her hooves around Twilight. It was a stiff embrace, too tight about the back and too loose about the shoulders. Sparkle tried to correct with a quick squeeze, but all she did was make Twilight quietly laugh. Twilight’s legs settled around Sparkle’s shoulders a moment later, her posture not much looser.

After a bit, they stepped apart.

“You know you don’t have to say it’s okay when it’s not,” Sparkle said quickly, trying to push the conversation along. “With everything we’ve been through you’re allowed to be upset today of—”

“I know,” Twilight said. “But it really is okay, Sparkle. It is.” She looked to the door. “You have a good day too, okay? I’ll see you at the party.”

“Okay,” Sparkle said, watching as Twilight headed out on her own. After a moment, she trotted downstairs to get back to her book.

“Hey, Applejack,” Twilight called out, as she trotted up the road to Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was hard at work on the cider press, filling a few barrels with what would eventually be finely-aged apple cider. From the yard in front of the barn, Applejack saw her friend approaching, and gave her a friendly wave.

“Hey, Twilight,” she greeted, once Twilight was closer. Her eyes remained on her work, though she kept a cheerful tone, and found a moment to smile at Twilight once she was near at hoof. “Happy birthday. Pinkie Pie came by a little while ago with the invitations.”

“Yeah, I saw her on the way here,” Twilight said. “You can make it, right?”

“Wouldn' miss it for the world, sugarcube,” Applejack said, her cheer joined by a certain fondness. “Hard to believe it’s been a year already.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said. She paused and swallowed. “Time flies.”

Applejack noticed the uncharacteristic hesitance in her friend, pausing in her work to face Twilight. “Somethin’ you wanted to talk about, Twilight?” she asked. Twilight nodded, but didn’t answer right away, and the pause made Applejack all the more curious. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Twilight said. “But... there’s something I wanted to talk to you about first. Before the party.” Twilight took a breath. Swallowed again. “I want you to apologize to Sparkle for giving me her name.” Quickly, Twilight pressed on. “I know your heart was in the right place. Everypony was panicking, she and I were at each other’s throats, nopony knew what might happen next. You thought you had to take charge and put things in order—straighten us out.” Twilight let a breath out, stiffly drawing it back in as she took a moment to collect herself.

“And—and I appreciate that.” She forced her ears to perk up, if only for a moment. “I appreciate that your first thought then was that I was a person and you didn’t want me to get hurt. But... you had no right, Applejack.” Twilight’s ears dropped, but she made herself press on. “You took something from her, and hurt her very badly. Something that wasn’t yours to take.”

Applejack’s expression had gotten steadily tighter as the conversation went on, her own ears folding back. She watched as Twilight continued, shying away from her friend’s monologue. “And...” Twilight trailed off for a moment. “She doesn’t resent you, AJ. She knows why you did it too. But I think hearing it would mean a lot to her.”

“Ah uh...” Applejack reached up and removed her hat, holding it against her chest. Her gaze went down to the ground, her tail low and tucked between her legs. “Ah don’t rightly know what to say, Twilight. Ah never...”

“You don’t have to say anything now, Applejack,” Twilight said, stepping forward until the two were face to face. “You’re a good friend. You’ve always been a good friend. Ever since I arrived in Ponyville. And... for the last year, I couldn't have asked for anypony better.” Applejack tilted her head up a bit, and when she did, she saw a soft smile on Twilight’s face. “You shouldn’t feel bad. But it would mean a lot to her if you could say it.”

“Of course,” Applejack said. She restored her hat to her head, shaking herself out to clear her thoughts. “Ah am sorry though, sugarcube. Ah know it’s been a rough year for you two and... well. We ain’t always helped.”

“Applejack, I said you shouldn't feel bad and I meant it,” Twilight insisted, a bit more firmly. “I didn’t come here to make you feel guilty. It’s my birthday, remember? I want everypony to have fun. I want it to be something everypony remembers. I want it to be...” She swallowed. “I want it to be when everypony remembers all the fun we had this year.”

“Well, that sounds good to me, sugarcube,” Applejack said. “You want to come inside for a bit? I’ve got some extra cider. Could let you skip to the front of the line, this year.”

“I’d love to,” Twilight said, “But I’ve got a lot of things I need to do today. We’ll talk more at the party, okay?”

“Alright,” Applejack said. “I’ll see you there then, I—woah!” Applejack jumped as Twilight suddenly pulled forward, wrapping her friend up in hug. “I uh...” Applejack laughed, a bit nervously. Twilight laughed too, genuinely, and her body was relaxed as she gave her friend a tight hug. “You sure you don’t want to come inside?”

“I’m sure,” Twilight said, pulling away. “But thank you, AJ. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alright,” Applejack said, as Twilight turned to head back into Ponyville. “See you soon.”

“Oh no!” Rainbow Dash shouted. In the distance, the two ponies could see the light from the corrupted Elements of Harmony—a sickly glow that suffused the horizon like a false dawn. “Now what do we do?” she cried, turning to face the pony beside her. There Twilight stood, and though she was sweaty, dirty, and scratched, she stood firm.

“We save the day, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said, sweeping her eyes over her friend. The two had been through so much in these hectic days, and gotten to know each other better than they ever thought they would. When she looked at her friend, Twilight saw the strength that had saved her so many times—in her upraised wings, her toned flanks, and the determination in her eyes. But she also saw the vulnerability there, the need in the pony beneath. “We save the day like we always do.”

“But how?” Rainbow asked. “Prince Ironhoof and your evil twin have the power of the Elements of Harmony! Nothing can stand against that.”

“That’s not true,” Twilight said, stepping forward to take her friend by the shoulders. “There is one thing we’ve seen in our travels that’s as powerful as friendship. Another powerful force that binds ponies together.”

“You don’t mean...” Rainbow Dash’s breath stuck in her throat, her mind whirling at an impossible speed.

“That’s right,” Twilight proclaimed. “Love!” Her horn shone as she grabbed the other mare by the mane, pulling her down into a kiss. Twilight’s body was h—

“Hey Rarity,” Twilight said. Rarity shrieked, tossing her notebook into the air as she whirled in place. Twilight was standing right behind her, and as Rarity stared in shock at her friend, her notebook hit the cafe table. Quickly, Rarity slammed it shut, pinning it tight against her chest with a leg.

“Work on what? I don’t know what you’re talking about! Don’t judge me for writing what everypony’s thinking!” Rarity said, her breath coming quickly. Twilight stared at her for a long while, tilting her head to the side as Rarity recovered herself. After a moment, Rarity sat up again, her horn glowing as she quietly fixed her hair. “I mean—” she cleared her throat. “Hello, Twilight. You gave me quite the start. I didn’t hear you there.” Rarity quickly added, “Oh, and happy birthday, Twilight. Pinkie Pie came by just a little while ago.”

Twilight stared back at Rarity for a moment, and then she giggled, a broad smile spreading over her face. “Well, I’m sorry for startling you in the middle of whatever it was you were doing,” she said, trying and failing to keep the mirth out of her tone. “And thank you. I hope you can make it?”

“Of course, darling! Of course,” Rarity said, discreetly putting her book aside. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” Twilight answered after a moment. “Like there’s never enough time. But good, I think.”

“Well, it sounds like a party is just the thing you need to unwind then,” Rarity said cheerfully. “Would you like to join me for lunch? I only ordered a moment ago.”

“I’d love to, Rarity, but there’s a bunch of things I need to do today,” Twilight said. “I just wanted to talk to you before the party. There’s some things I wanted to say that I didn’t want to say there.” She took a breath. “I wanted to say thank you, Rarity.”

“Why, whatever for, Twilight?” Rarity asked, leaning in closer to her friend.

“Well, for... this.” Twilight reached out to tap Rarity’s journal. She blushed, not sure how to continue.

Rarity paused for a moment, her face freezing somewhere between a smile and a frown. Delicately she continued, “I didn’t realize you were a fan of ah... literature. I didn’t think you—”

“No no,” Twilight says, laughing again. “Not like that. I meant... thank you for not losing your sense of humor.” She had to take a moment to collect herself, then pressed on. “This past year has been difficult for us all, but you never let it get to you. You were decisive and strong, but you never let it turn grim. Even when things were really bad, you could crack a joke about it. And I think that did a lot to keep us all together.”

“It’s what any friend would do,” Rarity said, but Twilight cut her off.

“No, Rarity, it isn’t. You were generous with your time and with your feelings, when it looked like Sparkle and I would never pay you back for it. You gave without worrying if you’d ever get anything back. And...” Twilight swallowed. “And I wanted to thank you.”

After a moment of tension, Twilight pulled forward, wrapping her friend up in a hug. Rarity was taken aback for a moment, but only for a moment, and she soon returned Twilight’s affections. “Oh... Twilight,” she smiled, “You know you don’t have to do that. Seeing you recovered, happy and well again, that’s all the reward I need.”

“I know,” Twilight said. “But I wanted you to know how I felt. You’re a good friend, Rarity.”

“As are you, Twilight,” Rarity said. The arrival of the waiter with Rarity’s pie interrupted their moment, and the two pulled apart with bashful smiles. “Yes, thank you,” Rarity said, pulling the plate over with her magic and shooing the waiter away. “Are you sure you won’t join me?”

“I want to, Rarity. But I can’t,” Twilight said, rising to go. “I just didn’t want to say that tonight. I want the party to be... fun, you know? I want it to be happy. Really happy. There will be time for serious talk later.”

“I quite understand,” Rarity said, giving a little nod. “Are you off to see the girls then? Get all that serious talk out of the way?”

Twilight nodded. “I am. I wanted to talk to you all before. I should get going—I’ve got a long walk to Fluttershy’s cottage.” She glanced at Rarity’s book, and a strange expression suddenly overtook her face. She seemed conflicted, one ear pulled back as her mouth drew into a line. Rarity paused, wondering what was wrong, but the expression lasted only a moment. Then Twilight smiled again, and laughed. “But before I go, I was curious. It seems like you’ve paired up almost everypony in town.”

“Now Twilight, there’s nothing wrong with a little harmless—”

“So, what’s the scene with you and Applejack like?” Twilight finished, with a smirk. The grin on her face has grown quickly and was now ear to ear, bringing with it a lightness in Twilight’s stance.

“Twilight Twilight Twilight,” Rarity tittered. “That doesn’t even make sense. I am trying to write interesting romantic literature. Not just throw together any random absurdity that springs to mind. I’m sure if you think about it you’ll see that that scene just doesn’t work.”

“Really?” Twilight asked, “Because I could think of a few good setups. Say that you’re stuck in this closet—”

“Twilight.”

“—but you’re so embarrassed to ask for help that you keep insisting you’re—”

“Twilight, if you say one more word about the subject,” Rarity said, levitating her slice of pie off the plate. “I will, in only the most ladylike fashion, hit you in the face with this pie.”

For a moment, the two stared at each other, holding each other’s gaze like two high-noon fighters in the mild west. Twilight took a breath.

“Rarity and Applejack, sittin’ in a tree—”

“So how did you get pie in your coat again?” Fluttershy asked as she and Twilight walked inside. Already, one of Fluttershy’s squirrels was eagerly licking Twilight’s cheek, its little whiskers tickling her and making her giggle.

“With the power of friendship,” Twilight said, shooing the little squirrel away once they were inside Fluttershy’s cottage. There, Fluttershy found a washcloth, and quickly pumped the well above her little sink basin. “Thank you, Fluttershy.”

“Of course,” Fluttershy said, as Twilight took a moment to scrub her face clean. “Oh, I um. I meant to ask, Twilight. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring a gift? I actually just finished knitting you a sweater.”

“A sweater?” Twilight asked, lifting her face from the basin and drying her face off with the nearby cloth. “Like the one you got me right after I was made?”

“Yeah,” Fluttershy said, nodding quickly. “I thought, um, that one was really meant to be Twilight Sparkle’s sweater. Not that you aren’t her! Because you are. But I thought it would be nice if this time, I made you and Sparkle separate sweaters with a different pattern. You know, to show that I think you’re both special. But hers isn’t done yet, so I just thought I could um...” Fluttershy nodded again. “Yes.”

Twilight paused by the sink, turning to look at Fluttershy head on. After a moment, she resumed rubbed the cloth behind her ears, and then dropped it down onto the countertop. “You know,” Fluttershy said, “On second thought, that was silly of me. I’m sure that’s not a time either of you want to be reminded of. I can just put together something else and—”

“No, Fluttershy,” Twilight said firmly. She stepped up to her friend. “No, it wasn’t silly of you. It was sweet.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you to say—”

“I’m not just saying it!” Twilight blurted out the words with a sudden energy that surprised both of them. Fluttershy actually leapt back a half step, hiding her face behind her mane. The moment shocked them both into silence, and Fluttershy used that silence to take another half step back. She started to mumble something apologetic, but Twilight shook her head.

“No, Fluttershy. Please don’t apologize,” Twilight said. She began to step forward, but when Fluttershy pulled away, Twilight returned her hoof to the floor right where it had started. “I’m sorry I snapped. There’s just something I need to tell you. And... there is a gift you can bring. May I?”

“Um...” Fluttershy managed. Then she nodded.

“I...” Twilight took a breath, and then pressed on. “I know this last year has been hard for you, Fluttershy. Maybe harder for you than anypony. You were there for Sparkle and I when we needed you, like when you stood guard over her after I...” Twilight swallowed. “And you knitted me a sweater. You were a good friend to me. To us both. And you were strong when you needed to be strong.”

“But...” Twilight continued. “I know that was hard for you. You’re not a pony who deals well with conflict and... and we put you through a lot.” Fluttershy said nothing, and Twilight bit her lip. “Is that right?”

Eventually, Fluttershy nodded. “It wasn’t your fault...”

“No, Fluttershy!” Twilight said, the urgency in her tone that had spooked Fluttershy a moment ago returning. “I don’t want it to be about whose fault it was. I don’t want you to feel bad that you feel bad that I feel bad. I want... I want to say I’m sorry. For what I put you through.” She swallowed. “And then, if you really want to get me a birthday gift, I want you to have fun tonight. Really... have fun. I want to see my friends having a really good time together.” Twilight forced a smile onto her face, though it was strained at the edges. “Can you do that for me?”

Fluttershy said nothing for a moment, and then slowly, her muzzle poked out from under her mane. “Did you come all the way out here just to tell me that?”

“I also wanted to make sure you got your invitation from Pinkie Pie...” Twilight muttered, folding her ears back as she suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. “And that you could make it.”

“Twilight, is everything okay?” Fluttershy asked, taking a step towards her friend.

“Everything is fine, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, “This is just important to me.” Her voice wavered for a moment. “I only get to do this once. I want it to be perfect. No saying we’re sorry, no worrying about what was whose fault something was.” For a moment, her voice actually cracked, but she forced her emotions to calm. “I want everypony to have happy memories. Can you help me do that, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Then she looked at her friend, and saw the pleading in Twilight’s eyes, and some instinct inside her rushed forward, stronger than her worry or anxiety. “Of course, Twilight,” she said, and then she stepped forward, and the two embraced. “Of course I’ll have fun at your birthday party.”

After a moment, as they stood holding each other, she continued, “But I’m still making you wear my sweater.”

Twilight smiled, and they both laughed.

“—and so then Spitfire said that I hang out with you a lot, and that if we weren’t close, she’d love to get to know me better. And I said that we were close as two ponies can be, but that wouldn't mind getting close to her too. And she looked surprised and said she assumed we were exclusive which was odd because, like, who has exclusive friends? I have a lot of friends and my fan club and stuff. So I told her that I know all sorts of ponies, because hey, I’m the hottest thing happening in this town. And then she looked really surprised and mumbled something and ran off, which is super weird because Spitfire is usually so confident, so I guess I spooked her.” Rainbow Dash looked up at the sky for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. “Do you think Spitfire might be a little socially anxious?”

“Yes, Rainbow. That is exactly what happened and you didn’t misinterpret the situation at all,” Twilight said.

“Wow. Just when you think you know a pony,” Rainbow Dash settled back down on the grass, spreading her wings under her. Twilight had found her at the watering hole outside of Ponyville, catching up on her napping. Though she had welcomed Twilight, she’d been slow to rouse, and so Twilight had waited as Rainbow gradually awoke. At first, she made only stray comments, but soon she started telling Twilight about her dreams. Then about her day. Then about anything else that entered her head. And still Twilight waited, and listened, and smiled.

“So, what’s going on with you today, Twilight?” Rainbow asked, cracking an eye open to look at the pony beside her.

“It’s my birthday,” Twilight said, giving a strange little smile that Rainbow Dash didn’t see.

“Yeah, I know that. The party’s gonna be awesome. But I mean besides that,” Rainbow insisted. “You usually interrupt me by now.”

Twilight thought about that for a second, and then nodded—another gesture that Rainbow Dash did not see. “You’ve always been a good friend, Rainbow, if a bit infuriating at times. But... do you think we’ve gotten closer in the last year?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rainbow shrugged.

“Rainbow, I mean it,” Twilight said, but even the seriousness in her tone only elicited another shrug.

“Yeah, I mean it too,” Rainbow said. “I think we’re closer, yeah, but it’s not like I’m gonna put a number on that. We saved the world together, we’ve been through tough times, we hang out all the time. I’d push you out of the way of a moving train. Does it really matter if there’s a ‘more’ or ‘less’ on that? We’re friends.” She ruffled her wings. “Don’t overthink it.”

“But I have to think about it,” Twilight said quietly, lowering her head to the grass. She was quiet for a time, but then she heard a grunting next to her. Rainbow Dash was scooting over, one squirm and grunt at a time, working her shoulders and wings to edge her along the ground. Soon, she was next to Twilight, all without ever removing her sunglasses or the hooves she was resting behind her head.

“So yeah what’s up?”

Twilight laughed, lowering her head to the grass next to Rainbow Dash. “I feel like we’ve gotten closer this year. I help you train for the Wonderbolts. We hang out a lot more. And I don’t know if I’d have survived Canterlot without you.”

“Well, I am pretty awesome,” Rainbow Dash agreed.

“Yeah,” Twilight quietly laughed. “And I like that. I like how things have gone this last year. But I worry that... if things had been different. Maybe we wouldn't have ended up this close.”

“If things had been different,” Rainbow Dash repeated, with a skeptical twist.

“Yeah...” Twilight said. She didn’t continue.

Rainbow Dash sighed, and after a moment, she lifted a wing up to her face, using a feather to push her sunglasses up so she could look at Twilight unobstructed. “You know that if I like you more than Sparkle that doesn’t make you a bad pony, right?”

“I know, but she’s still...” Twilight struggled for the words. “She’s still missing out. Friendship is a wonderful thing, and I want to share it with ponies. I want her to... I want her to be your friend as much as I am.” Twilight leaned her head over to rest against Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. “You know she’s still the pony who fought Nightmare Moon with you, right? Who saw your sonic rainboom and earned her cutie mark?”

“Yeah, I know,” Rainbow insisted. “Sparkle and I are friends, Twilight. Don’t get your tail in a twist.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said. After a moment, she shook herself off, rising from where she lay. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. It’s none of my—”

“Hey,” Rainbow Dash said, sitting up as Twilight rose. “Wait. Twilight. This really bothers you that much?” Twilight nodded, her expression tense. “Because it’s your birthday?”

“Because I want the world to be a better place because I existed,” Twilight said. “And I just keep thinking that if I wasn’t around, Sparkle would be Twilight Sparkle and you and she would be hanging out today and I can’t take that away from her. I...” Twilight’s voice cracked, but when she tried to press the emotion away, it wouldn't go. Soon, she started to choke up, squeezing her eyes shut as she forced herself to go on. “I can’t do that, Rainbow. I...”

“Woah, woah!” Rainbow rose to her hooves, taking a half-step to stand alongside Twilight and pull her close. “It’s okay, you’re not taking anything from anypony. You’re not. Twilight. Hey...” Rainbow gradually coaxed Twilight’s chin up, catching her eyes. “Hey,” she said, touching Twilight’s shoulder with a wing.

Gradually, Twilight’s breaths slowed, and the tightness in her throat started to fade.

“Twilight,” Rainbow started. “I know you’re the smart one, but there are times you can be really stupid and this is one of them, okay? You and I bonded this last year because we went through stuff together. Stuff that might never have happened if you weren't around. It’s not like there’s only so much friendship in the world and you’re taking it away from Sparkle by having it yourself.”

“What if I am? What if I have?” Twilight asked, leaning into her friend for reassurance. “I want tonight to be happy, Rainbow Dash. I want it to be perfect. No anger, no resentment, no little jealous looks. Nopony worrying what they did wrong or what they have to say sorry for. I want it to be happy and I want it to be what everypony remembers.” She sniffled quietly. “Even if it’s not my fault, even if you’re right and I didn’t take anything from Sparkle, I want her to feel better off that I’m here. I want everypony to feel that way.”

Rainbow’s eyes turned down and she bit her lip, but that uncertainty faded when Twilight pulled her head back to look Rainbow in the eye. “Can you help me make that happen, Rainbow? Please?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, and after a pause she added, “Yeah, of course, Twilight. Anything for a friend, right? It’s gonna be the best birthday ever.”

“Thank you, Rainbow,” Twilight said quietly. A moment later, she pulled Rainbow Dash back into a hug. “You’ve been such a good friend to me this past year. You were always a good friend.”

Rainbow Dash didn’t know what to say, and so she returned the hug in silence. Something about that made Twilight laugh, and she only squeezed her friend tighter. “I couldn't have asked for better, Rainbow.”

“Heh,” Rainbow smiled uncertainly as Twilight nuzzled into her shoulder. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said. The two stood there like that for a long time, holding each other in a warm silence.

“Oh, wait, Spitfire thought I was gay.”

“Yeah, okay,” Twilight said, “moment’s over.”

“Hey, Twilight!” Pinkie called as the little bell over the door of Sugarcube Corner rang. The interior of the pastry shop was full of party supplies and confectionaries, stacked high on the tables in preparation for being carried to the library. “I’ve got a riddle for you! What looks like cake, sounds like cake, and smells like cake?”

“How does something sound like ca—”

“It’s cake!” Pinkie shouted, hopping across the room and presenting Twilight with a slice of oddly purple cake, its interior filled with glittering specks. After Twilight failed to immediately consume it, Pinkie Pie pushed it forward towards her face, making loud “Eh, eh?” sounds.

After a moment, Twilight leaned forward and took a bite. The cake was moist and soft, but when she chewed, the sparkly bits crunched between her teeth, and a sudden look of surprise overtook Twilight’s features. “Oh wow,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cake, quickly swallowing. “That’s really good. What are the crunchy—”

“Sprinkles!” Pinkie Pie said, letting out a little squeal of glee. “I made them myself so they sparkle and look kind of like your cutie mark! Do you like them?”

“They’re perfect, Pinkie,” Twilight smiled, taking a moment to look around the room. “Everything is ready for the party then?”

“Yup! One order of all-smiles-no-frowns-happy-birthday-party-supplies all ready to go! I even made a checklist so you can double check if you want!” Pinkie Pie said, darting across the room and rushing back with a clipboard in her teeth. “Feef?”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” Twilight says, gently floating the clipboard out of Pinkie’s mouth. “I’m sure it’s just the way it should be. Is it all ready? I came over to help you move everything to the library.”

“Juuuust about! Just let me grab one more box of streamers and then we’re good to go!” Pinkie said, with a particularly sharp burst of enthusiasm, bounding across the room. Twilight followed her with a warm expression, pausing briefly to examine the checklist.

“This is very thorough,” Twilight said, surprised. “You put a lot of effort into this, Pinkie.”

“Um, duh! It’s only a friend’s birthday party!” she said, as she gathered up her supplies and slid into her saddlebags.

Twilight laughed quietly. “Thank you, Pinkie. It means a lot to me.” Twilight started to levitate the piles of party supplies, moving to help her friend carry them. Another thought struck her before they could finish though, and she paused her work. “Pinkie Pie, what do you think of all this?”

“Mmm?” Pinkie asked, midway through stuffing three extremely large crates of party favors into her extremely small saddlebag. Volume constraints made this impossible, but Pinkie didn’t know that, and also earth pony magic probably. “Think about what?”

“All this. This past year. You’ve been a good friend to Sparkle and I, and you’ve always had a joke and a smile when one of us is feeling down, but... I don’t think I’ve heard you express an opinion about us,” Twilight said, her smile fading a bit as she wracked her brain. “Ever, actually. You haven’t even commented on the situation. It’s not a criticism,” she added quickly, “but... I’m curious now.”

“Oh, silly Twilight, you don’t wanna hear that,” Pinkie said, quickly moving to the next pile. “Now, I’ve got a cart out back for the rest, we can—”

“No, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “I really do want to hear it.” Pinkie didn’t answer right away, or turn around, and after a moment Twilight added, “Please?”

“I just don't know what there is to say, Twilight,” Pinkie Pie said.

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, “Your friend copied herself and now the copies are fighting. That doesn’t... I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “You certainly had an opinion on the mirror-pool clones.”

“That’s because they weren’t the real Pinkie Pie,” she said, still not turning back to look at Twilight. “They were something different, and destructive, that hurt my friends. Something worth fighting with.” She poked a box in front of her. “I don’t really know what to say about a friend who fights with their own reflection.”

“...is that all I am to you?” Twilight asked, her tail drooping as her ears folded back. “The reflection?”

“All you are to me? No,” Pinkie Pie says, turning her head to glance at Twilight, though she didn’t turn around. “You’re a friend. And a pony I care about. And Spike’s sort-of-mom-sort-of-sister. And a pretty good librarian. You could never be just a reflection to me, anymore than Applejack is just an earth pony or Rarity is just a dressmaker. But that’s what they are. And a reflection is what you are.”

Pinkie Pie looked back at the table of party supplies, shoving more balloons into her saddlebags. “I don’t understand why everypony has so much trouble with that.”

“Because a reflection isn’t a pony, Pinkie,” Twilight said, “It’s just an image in glass.”

“You only see it as an image in glass,” Pinkie replied. “But that’s like saying that when a pony writes you a letter, they’re just ink on a page because that’s all you see. The pony doesn’t go away if you lose the letter or smear the ink.”

Pinkie paused for a few long moments, and then finally stepped away from the table to approach Twilight, looking her in the eye. “And I don’t think the reflection goes away when you step away from the glass. You just can’t see it anymore. But it’s there.”

“Pinkie, I...” Twilight said, her voice suddenly strained. “How... are you just saying that?” She had to pause to take a stiff breath. “Or did you figure—”

“I figured that you wanted the best birthday party there ever was where everypony would hug and have fun and everyone you knew would be there including your friends and family and the Princesses and everypony!” Pinkie said with a forceful energy. “And I figured I could totally make that happen! And it will happen, Twilight. It’ll be perfect. In fact, it’ll be so perfect, I think I need to stretch out my hugging muscles right now so I don’t get a cramp.”

Pinkie suddenly leapt forward, and Twilight found herself wrapped up tight, squeezed until the wind was knocked out of her. “You’re going to have a wonderful birthday party, Twilight,” Pinkie Pie said, whispering the words to her friend. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” Twilight said, her voice choked. She struggled to form words, stammering out the line, “You... you know you’ve been the best friend a pony could—”

“Of course I know, silly,” Pinkie Pie said, with an airy laugh that mirrored none of Twilight’s tension. “Right back at’cha.”

Twilight didn’t say anything to that, but Pinkie Pie didn’t mind.

The party wasn’t perfect, but it was extremely close.

Half of Ponyville made an appearance, and the party soon spilled out of the overcrowded library and into the warm evening air. Pinkie Pie had outdone herself, and no matter how many ponies arrived, there seemed to be games, food, and drink for all. It was a new moon, but the stars were absolutely brilliant and so nopony minded the darkness much. It was—in every sense of the word—a twilight celebration, with ponies laughing and skipping back and forth in the shadows, little more than outlines in the gloom.

Twilight made a point of dragging Sparkle into the center of the festivities whenever she could, but both of them ended up spending most of the evening with their friends. After Pinkie Pie, Rarity was the first to arrive, then Rainbow Dash, then Applejack, then Fluttershy. The six friends had barely an hour to themselves before Shining Armor arrived with Twilight’s parents, promising that Cadence would be along soon. She was, along with Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, and for an evening, Ponyville was host of all of Equestria’s royalty. It did interrupt things for a time, as ponies scraped and bowed, but fortunately, Princess Luna had a solution to prevent their presence from disrupting the festivities.

And that solution was finely aged Apple Family hard cider.

Depending on one’s perspective, that is either where things started to go downhill, or where Twilight’s wish came true. Certainly after that, nopony was worrying about the future or about who wronged who. Instead, the party took on a life of its own, as ponies blundered about in the dark, laughing and doing things they somehow never found it in them to do in the light.

Fluttershy downed an entire mug of cider in one go, squared her shoulders, summoned her courage, and kissed Big Mac on the cheek. She then promptly let out a squeak of terror and flew up into the rafters, and it took Applejack and Sparkle half an hour to talk her down.

Though Rarity hardly touched the cider, the admirers and flattery which found their way around her had a similar intoxicating effect, and it wasn’t even nine before she’d given Ponyville’s little publisher a copy of her work in progress. He assured her that it would sell—after all, stories about the Elements of Harmony always did well.

Pinkie Pie inhaled an entire jar of candy. This wasn’t related to the cider, but Princess Luna found it so impressive she proclaimed it a miracle, and beatified Pinkie Pie on the spot as the patron saint of nasal sweets. This probably was cider related, though there was no way to be sure.

Applejack spent the entire evening working up the courage to apologize to Sparkle for taking her name. She finally did so late into the night, in a soft, heartfelt apology that ended with a warm embrace. Unfortunately, Rainbow Dash took that as her cue to begin her own moment, and in a perfect storm of inebriation, bad phrasing, and ill-advised attempts to sound clever, she managed to unwittingly proclaim her undying romantic love of Applejack. Sparkle was more than a little annoyed, but revenge came a moment later when an eager-faced and round-hooved Princess Cadence burst in from the next room and offered to perform the wedding ceremony on the spot.

Twilight and Sparkle each also found time for their family and the Princess's, but eventually, the party started to wind down. One at a time, ponies drifted away. First, Princess Celestia had to return to Canterlot. Then Twilight’s parents got tired and made their exit. Then Shining Armor had to drag away his wife after she recklessly discharged her love spells through the crowd, tragically shipping six ponies. Eventually, the crowd grew thin, and by eleven, only Twilight’s close friends were left. They stayed long enough to help clean up, had one last round of hugs, and went along their way.

Sparkle was just trudging upstairs after putting away the last of the balloons, when she realized there was talking coming from her room. A quick glance confirmed that Twilight’s room was dark, while her own was brightly lit, and evidently occupied. Pushing open the door, she found Twilight sitting on the bed with Spike beside her, the two of them laughing over a tale of the evening’s amusements.

“Oh, hey!” Twilight called, as soon as Sparkle opened the door. “There you are. Spike and I were just talking—how would you feel about a sleepover tonight? All three of us.”

“Oh...” Sparkle paused, tilting her head slightly. “Sure, I guess,” she finally said, “That would be nice.” She trudged up to the opposite side of the bed, and slid onto it alongside Sparkle. The three of them spoke for a little while longer, about the party and about their friends, but they were all quite tired. Spike was the first to nod off, and Twilight and Sparkle didn’t wait long after to rest their heads, a glow from their horns dimming the lights.

As they lay there in the darkness, Twilight pulled up alongside Sparkle, and put a leg over her shoulders. “I left you something,” she said, “on my desk.” Her voice was steady enough, but there was something strange in it that Sparkle couldn’t identify. An emotional tenor that rang unfamiliar. “It’s a letter. How I felt about today. The last year. I probably should have told you in person but... you know we compose our thoughts better on paper.”

Sparkle nodded, but she was not quite sure what to think of the situation, so she said nothing. Eventually, Twilight went on. “But, there was one thing I wanted to add. About this morning. I know it felt weird, hugging. I still don’t like you the way I like the others, and I know you don’t like me that way. And I know that bothers you. But...” Twilight swallowed. “That’s okay. Nopony is perfect. We both wish we could have handled everything better, but...”

Twilight leaned down to nuzzle Sparkle behind the ear. “If we’re going to be crazy and stupid about not recognizing ourselves in the other, at least I can recognize that you’re a good mare. You always tried to make it better, you always tried to do the right thing. And even if it didn’t work out... I’ll always remember that.” Twilight gave Sparkle a little squeeze.

“Twilight, I...” Sparkle stammered, uncertainly.

“No, it’s okay,” Twilight said. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that.”

And so, Sparkle didn’t say anything. She just scooted closer to Twilight, and leaned against her gently. The two lowered their heads to the mattress, and soon, fell asleep.

Sparkle awoke in the morning with a wide yawn. She’d forgotten to close the window last night, and the rays from the rising sun had just reached her eyes, slowly pulling her out of her rest. She considered shutting the blinds, but after a time, decided that she might as well get up now. Her head tucked down to be out of the light, and her eyes fluttered open.

The sheets were a twisted mess, with Spike sprawled out on a pillow at one end, and Sparkle somehow reversed from the direction she’d been lying last night. She saw that the sun had reached Twilight’s half of the bed first, and that Twilight was already gone. Delicately, Sparkle picked herself from the bed, careful not to rouse Spike as she moved. On the tips of her hooves, she snuck off to the bathroom, mentally settling what she’d have to do for the day.

Speaking with Twilight would be her first priority, it was clear. If there were no unresolved questions from the previous night, she was sure there would be after reading Twilight’s letter. She wasn’t sure how she felt about things, but it had been a good celebration last night. It had been warm and enjoyable, and despite Sparkle’s reservations, she’d had a lot of fun.

Levitating her toothbrush out of its holder, Twilight stepped up to the sink. And in the mirror, her reflection looked back at her.

Epilogue

Nine letters rested on the desk. Each was a scroll, sealed with wax and laid out neatly side by side. The seals were blank, but each had a name printed on the upward-facing section of the paper. One scroll read Mom and Dad, while the one next to it read Princess Cadence, and the one after that Shining Armor. The remaining six were the names of the Elements of Harmony, ending with the name of the Element of Magic. Twilight Sparkle.

The wax seal on the last letter easily broke, crumbling away as the scroll rolled open on the desk.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Princess Luna finished deciphering Starswirl’s spell a few months ago, and discovered why he went through so much effort to conceal it. It isn’t permanent. Even under ideal conditions, the duplicate can’t last more than a year, and there’s nothing Princess Celestia or Luna can do to help me. Starswirl must have been worried that ponies would use it anyway. Celestia said he was always mistrusting.

Things would have been simpler if I’d told you as soon as I found out. Things would have been simpler if I’d let you kill me on that first day. But I couldn't. I wanted to live, and I wanted to have time with my friends when they weren't pitying me. I know that isn’t fair. I know that this last year has been about my selfishness and your selflessness, with everypony bending over backwards to help me while you stand there and pretend I’m not turning your life upside down. I made it all about me.

But it’s not about me anymore. I didn’t write these letters so I would feel better. I suppose it’s cowardly to do the right thing once you’re not around to pay the price for it, but I do want to do the right thing. I want you to have your life back. I want you to have your name back. And I don’t want a funeral. I don’t want everything I was to go away and make everypony sad. You should have it, like it should always have been yours. Help Rainbow Dash train and hang out with her more. Get to know Time Turner better. Spend time with Princess Luna. She gives good advice.

It may seem strange for me to say that. We spent so much time trying to be different from one another, but now that I’ve got nothing left to worry about, that’s all starting to seem silly. You are me, if things had just gone a little differently. What does it matter if it’s me or you who does all those things? As long as one of us is around, for Mom and Dad and Ponyville and our friends, it can’t be as bad as that. I wish it could be both of us, but if it has to be one, it should be you.

I know that this is my goodbye letter, but don’t think of it that way. Nothing is going away but the relationships I had with the ponies around us, and those can all come back again. I feel like this year took something from us. Twilight Sparkle isn’t bitter, or angry, or selfish, or cowardly. She’s a hero. We took that from each other with our fighting, but now you can have it back again. Everything we are is yours, and I want it to be that way. I want you to be what we both should have been.

I wish I’d understood this earlier, but I want you to have my life—or whatever parts of it bring you joy. I want you to have everything. Because you deserve it, and I like you.

You’re a good mare, Twilight Sparkle. I wish I’d realized that sooner.

There was no signature at the end.

After a moment, Twilight Sparkle put down the letter. She turned to the window to watch her reflection in the glass. And, after a time, she cried.

Chapter 1

But it is possible to create magic concerning magic—by which a unicorn could use her talent to enhance her talent, to the maximum effect of doubling her potential as a wizard. Of this, I have found a remarkable demonstration which this margin is too narrow to contain.
-Starswirl the Bearded

“Magic circle?” Twilight called out. In her excitement, she was distinctly using her outside voice, intonations loud and projecting. The wooden walls of Ponyville’s library served to quiet her voice, but only so much. The unicorn’s enthusiasm rolled off every surface, reverberating through the tiny space because of conviction as much as volume.

“Check,” Spike answered, stifling a yawn. It was dark outside, though from how he felt, he expected it to start getting light any moment now. The young dragon was grateful that the walls made Twilight’s voice just a little quieter, but he knew that they weren't done yet. Whenever she got a new project in her head, she seemed to have no end of energy, often to the detriment of her number one assistant.

“Enchanted mirror?” Twilight asked, her voice crisp and alert. The feeling of a job well done electrified her tone with a confident energy, and her posture reflected much the same. Some ponies pose and strut to make themselves look mighty and proud, but Twilight stood with an earnest drive about her, on her hooves like her body weighed nothing and no mortal task was beyond her.

The main room of the library was the only space large enough to contain the circle that the spell called for. The room had been throughly cleaned, and the reading table in center had been cleared of books and the wooden bust that normally adorned it. Instead, a tall mirror rested there, large enough to show an entire pony mane to hooves, decorated around the edges by a silver frame.

“Check,” Spike answered, claw reaching up to cover his mouth as he yawned again, his eyelids heavy. The circle on the floor may have looked solid to an outside observer, but it was made of hundreds of tiny lines, each one painted on the floor with a single ponyhair brush. After a few hours of such tedium, Spike wouldn't have minded giving up some of his assistant job to Owlowiscious, if only the bird could hold the brush.

“Lost journal of Starswirl the Bearded, given to me by Princess Luna?” Twilight raised her head faintly with pride, eyes turning down to inspect the floor.

Spike tried to give Twilight a half-lidded stare as her tone swelled with confidence, but she was busy admiring their work from the previous night. Tired as Spike was, lowering his eyelids at all was a mistake, and soon the little dragon was letting them rest. As his eyes slid shut, he muttered a quiet, “Oh yeah... check,” without a glance at the book on the pedestal.

“Magical prodigy who is going to cast Starswirl’s Last Spell and be hailed by all the wizards in Canterlot as the pony who revolutionized magic forever?” Twilight’s volume swelled to match the energy in her tone as she struck a pose—one hoof up, head high, eyes closed—as if the sculptor of her future statue were watching and needed inspiration.

She held that pose for a full second, then another, before turning back at the silence behind her to see Spike fast asleep, curled up on the floor below one of the library’s shelves. An embarrassed blush rose to her face, as it occurred to her she might have gotten a bit carried away. Her horn set itself aglow as she levitated Spike gently from his resting place, moving to carry him to his bed upstairs.

“Well, I suppose all the wizards in Canterlot can wait just one more day.”

“I’m not so sure that this is a good idea, Twilight,” Spike muttered. Morning had come to Ponyville, and with it had come Twilight and Spike’s morning errands. As usual, Spike was riding atop Twilight’s back, the little dragon bouncing faintly as she trotted down Ponyville’s streets. The sound of clopping hooves and at least one set of wagon wheels drifted through the air around them as they cut a brisk pace towards Carousel Boutique.

“Don’t be silly, Spike! We just make a quick trip to tell Rarity that I’m going to have to meet her this afternoon instead of this morning. Then it’s back home and I’m revolutionizing magic before lunch!” Twilight proclaimed, a happy spring in her step that Spike might have found more endearing if he weren't riding on her unsteady back.

“Yeah, great planning. You don’t even know exactly what that spell does,” Spike replied, eliciting a tolerant, friendly sigh from Twilight.

“Oh Spike, I know exactly what it does,” she insisted as they neared the Boutique, her course adjusting itself to Ponyville’s most brilliantly decorated building. “It proves that I’m a serious scholar who’s doing her part to push magic forward, and thereby make Princess Celestia proud of me!”

The big problem with Spike riding on Twilight’s back was that she was always looking ahead, so she couldn't see it when he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, good morning, Twilight! And you too, Spike,” Rarity called out, the bell over the door jingling with their entrance. Rarity did not need the bell to notice them, of course. She had already been in her showroom for hours, tending to her business and awaiting customers. She was working on a dress resting in the space between three great mirrors, and though it was currently only a few strips of cloth over a ponyquin, Rarity was sure it would soon be a masterpiece. “Are you here for our trip to the spa, Twilight?” she asked, turning to face her guests. “You’re early.”

“I’m sorry, Rarity,” Twilight started, somewhat disingenuously. While her tone was apologetic, “sorry” would not have been the most accurate descriptor. Nothing with that much enthusiasm can be truly sorry. “But I was actually wondering if we could do this afternoon instead? Something’s come up. I’ve got a new project I’m really excited about!”

“Well of course, darling!” Rarity assured her, with just the right amount of polite interest in her tone, eyes sliding between dragon and pony. “I have been wondering just what you two have been up to that’s worth keeping the library closed. You’ve been awfully mysterious about the whole thing. You’ll tell me all about it when you and Spike are done, I trust?”

“Actually, I was meaning to give Spike some time off. We were up awfully late last night getting everything ready,” Twilight started as Spike looked up with surprise. “And since we’re here, I was wondering if you’d like an assistant for the day?”

“Why of course!” Rarity proclaimed. “I’m always happy to see Spike around the Boutique. My needles have never been sharper than the time he helped me with Fluttershy’s first modeling dress.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me?” Spike asked as he hopped from Twilight’s back. Twilight laughed at the worry Spike had let seep into his tone, giving a gentle shake of her head.

“You’re a wonderful assistant Spike, but you’ve already helped me get everything ready!” she answered, leaning down towards him. “All that’s left to do is to cast the spell and take some notes, and I’d do all that myself anyway. Besides, I have been making you work a bit hard these last few days.”

“That’s certainly true,” Spike agreed, with a touch of a grumble. After the amount of work he’d put into this project of Twilight’s, he actually kind of wanted to see the end, even if he did think it was a terrible idea. Before he could say as much, though, he was interrupted by Rarity’s sing-song intonations.

“It’s settled then. I’ll bring him back when we meet this afternoon. Would two o’clock be to your tastes, Twilight?” she asked, a hoof politely raised in greeting to Spike, gesturing him over.

“Perfect!” Twilight agreed. And no sooner had she spoken than Spike forgot why he was about to object, the young dragon eagerly dashing Rarity’s way.

It was only at the sound of the bell above the door chiming that he remembered what he was going to say. By then, it was too late. Spike turned just in time to see the last hairs of Twilight’s tail vanish out the door. Oh well, he thought, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

“Those foals at the academy have doubted my theories for the last time!” Not that they had been particularly inclined to doubt her theories before, but those sorts of proclamations always made Twilight feel extra science-y before undertaking a big project. Just like the labcoat, and goggles, and the Jacob’s ladder throwing off arcs of lightning in the back of the room.

It was a good thing she’d found an excuse to get rid of Spike for the day. He always gave her weird looks when she got seriously science-y.

Besides, it was true. No one would ever question the rediscoverer of Starswirl’s final work, even if she had had a little help from Princess Luna. After all, the Princess may have given her the book, but she was the one who alertly noticed the pages he’d discreetly ripped out, brilliantly reconstructed them from ink impressions on the remaining paper, and boldly ignored all that nonsense about doom and ruin he’d scribbled over it to keep prying ponies out. Science required you to be bold.

Of course, it was all just speculation until she proved that she’d restored the pages correctly—and that the spell actually proved what his notes implied it proved—and the only way to do that was to cast it. If casting it happened to have some beneficial effect on her potential as a wizard and a student, that was just icing on the cupcake.

She considered letting out a science-y laugh, and decided that the moment warranted it.

“All right, enough talk!” she proclaimed with an glare towards the library-turned-ritual-chamber, a faint smile portraying the set of her jaw. Her smile threatened to turn to a smirk, and soon her horn flared with light. “Monitors, check!” Her telekinesis pulled a bank of sensors towards the circle’s edge. A roll printer started to whirr and click, letting out a steady stream of graph paper into a waiting box. “Magic tome, check!” The pedestal holding Starswirl’s reconstructed journal sliding into its space before her. Its pages whirled in front of her like they were taken by a great wind. The screech of scraping wood made Twilight’s ears fold back as the mirror in the center of the room turned to face her, but she ignored the sound, and soon the mirror showed her whole reflection.

“Magic,” she finished, with a determined stare into the mirror. The ink of the magic circle set itself alight at the touch of her power, bursting into heatless flames the same color as Twilight’s horn.

“Check.”

According to Starswirl’s notes, the spell was beyond him, and Twilight was certain it was beyond her. But if it worked the way he thought, the caster’s power would grow as the spell went on, enabling them to finish it, and proving his theory at last! Of course, his notes didn’t say what the spell actually did. Starswirl was a brilliant wizard, but a less-than-brilliant notetaker.

Trying to cast the spell was like trying to lift Tom with her bare hooves. Already Twilight was starting to show the strain, as the light from her horn increased. The purple flames around the room shot up, as a growing whine filled the space. Only the closed blinds saved Twilight from the interruption of well-meaning ponies who might have thought that the library was burning down.

“C’mon, Twilight, you can do this!” she growled, raising her horn to the air, its glow so bright it was shining like the sun. There were not many spells that Twilight genuinely struggled to cast—barely a hoofful including the wing-granting enchantment—and already, Twilight could tell that this spell was not amongst them. It was not hard for her; it was beyond her. If Starswirl was wrong, the spell would—metaphorically and possibly literally—smash her into the ground horn-first.

She didn’t feel any stronger.

But the spell was starting to feel lighter.

At first, it was so faint Twilight didn’t dare believe it, convinced her mind was tricking her, but when she felt the strain on her growing, wincing in anticipation of the pain that would shoot through her horn, the pain never came. The spell was heavy, but not unmanageable. Twilight started to laugh, and as the rush of relief and exhalation overcame her, found she couldn't stop. The noise that poured forth from her was pure, simple, a sound of joy. Yet, that same sound might have deeply concerned Celestia if she heard Twilight make it, a smirk plastering itself to Twilight’s face when the laughter finally departed.

“I did it!” she proclaimed to the book and the mirror before her, her reflection mimicking her flush, victorious expression. The flames around her started to twist, to bend inwards, to form strange runes and shapes in the air, filling the circle.

Twilight felt no stronger, but the spell felt only half as hard. It was like somepony else was helping her cast it, except that that somepony was the perfect teammate, able to help her just the way she needed it better than any real circle of wizards ever could. She couldn't help but grin at the sight: the purple flames, the magic she was commanding with only a casual effort, the vindication of her work written in glowing runes two ponies tall.

“All right, lets do this,” she quipped, drawing in a breath for that last surge of effort, her horn blazing as the flames reared.

Rarity had a keen eye for scandal.

It was not that she particularly liked spreading gossip, except in those instances when she did. Nor was it that she found the tawdry and sordid affairs of other ponies captivating, except when they were. She simply had a natural sense for when a pony had something juicy to hide.

It was a sense which rang as loud as the bell over the door when Twilight entered the spa, trying to seem as though she weren't slinking into the bright, fern-filled waiting room. Something went wrong with Twilight's little project, Rarity concluded to herself at once. Something she’s embarrassed about me knowing, but not so bad she actually needs help.

The nervous, faux-enthusiasm in the, “Hi, Rarity! Hi, Spike!” Twilight used as a greeting sealed the deal, and it was all Rarity could do not to show her glee. Oh, something personal! Maybe she switched bodies with someone! Or turns into a colt when the moon is full! Or maybe she was working on a love spell and is having an affair right now! Oh, this will be just like my romance novels!

“Twilight!” Rarity exclaimed, rising from the small divan on which she sat next to Spike.

“Hey,” the little dragon muttered, raising a claw in greeting.

The temptation to set in with questions was strong, but Rarity knew to resist it. Asking now would only scare Twilight away. It was best to pretend to be unawares and let Twilight’s natural inability to keep secrets do the work for her. In fact, Rarity concluded, it was best to pretend she’d found some new topic and forgotten about the entire thing.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you! Spike was a simply wonderful help, and he gave me such ideas!” she improvised. Spike looked up with surprise, a sudden smile tugging at his face.

“I did?”

“Of course, darling, it’s the scales! They make you look simply smashing. I think they could be the new fashion trend in Equestria!” she exclaimed, quickly correcting, “Not real dragon scales of course, but I have some ideas for using gemstones I simply must tell you about, Twilight.”

It occurred to Rarity after the fact that her words might have an impact on someone other than Twilight. “You think I look smashing?” Spike almost whispered, the dragon unsteady on his feet. No harm done, she decided. He really was an excellent assistant. He earned it.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Rarity.” Twilight agreed, with a more lukewarm tone that Rarity pretended not to notice. Twilight was obviously distracted by something important, trying to sneak a glance behind the counter. The blue-coated, pink-haired pony there gave her an awkward sort of smile, glancing behind her to try and see what Twilight was peering at. “But I actually need to—”

“Oh don’t be silly!” Rarity intercepted her verbally and physically, a faint glow from the snowy unicorn’s horn shutting the door behind Twilight. “I know you’re busy with your studies, but I insist on at least a round in the sauna. I have so many ideas, and you could use it, dear! You look positively pale.”

“I do?” Twilight asked, worried, turning to look back at herself. Rarity quickly closed what little distance remained between them, leaning in close to the other unicorn. “Oh you do! All that time locked up in the library with no sunlight, I’m sure. A quick invigoration is just what you need.”

“Well... I guess a few minutes couldn't hurt.” Twilight agreed as Rarity gently nudged her forward, signaling for the usual to the attendant behind the counter. “You don’t mind waiting for us, Spike?” she asked as a last-ditch effort against Rarity’s insistent presence.

“Huh? No, go right ahead.” he murmured, watching until Rarity and Twilight were out of sight in the back. The same stupid smile remained stuck to his face the entire time, his body slack and his eyes entranced.

“She thinks I’m smashing.”

“Hey, Twilight, you in there?” Rainbow Dash’s hoof made a steady beat on the library door, as she impatiently waited in the great tree’s shadow. Twilight making her an egghead was bad enough, but then she aggravated the problem by closing the library! Rainbow Dash had just finished Daring Do and the Cult of Blood, and the fastest pony alive wasn’t going to keep waiting for the next one forever.

“Hello!?” She called out, wings lifting her off the ground as she went from window to window, peering into the library. “Hey, who drew all the blinds!?” she demanded, her usual habit of bursting into Twilight’s library unannounced thwarted by the unprecedented measure of the windows being locked.

Almost all the windows, anyway.

“Heh heh, perfect!” Rainbow Dash said to herself, trying one of the smaller windows, jiggling it in its frame until the well-oiled latch inside came loose. The drawn curtains inside brushed around her as she pushed through the narrow opening, wings folded against her body. “Hey, Twilight!” she called into the dark library. “I’m here to get a book and—whoa!”

Without the sun’s light to illuminate it, the inside of Ponyville’s library took on a menacing air, one aided by the modifications made to the main room. The crumbling, burnt remains of the circle of ink still adorned the floor and scorch marks surrounded them in turn. The inside of the circle was filled with books hastily pulled from the shelves. Rainbow stopped to scan a few titles, her eyes glancing over treatises on rare and dark magic. The tall mirror in the circle’s center played tricks with the light, showing Rainbow Dash a distorted version of herself, draped in darkness as she hesitantly walked into the space.

“What happened here?” she asked to the air, slowly peering around the space. Rainbow Dash didn’t know much about magic, but she knew enough to tell that whatever happened here was far more awesome then Twilight’s usual boring booky stuff.

Her gaze was working its way back across the room when Twilight’s voice spoke in her ear. “Rainbow Dash!”

Later accounts would mistake Rainbow Dash’s personal-space-guarding war cry for a shriek of surprise, and her awesome action-leap for bolting straight to the ceiling.

“What are you doing breaking into the library?” Twilight demanded, Rainbow Dash twisting in place to look down at the room below her. Twilight stood at the circle’s edge, behind where Rainbow Dash had stood a moment ago, looking up at the pegasus pony with an annoyed expression that matched her tone. Something about the way Twilight stood struck Rainbow Dash as off, but she couldn't place what.

“I’m here to get the next Daring Do book! You said you’d have the library open today!” she asserted, defensive.

“Well, I don’t,” Twilight answered with a sigh, but light from her horn soon illuminated the dim space as she plucked one of the brightly colored novels from its shelf. “Sorry, here,” she offered, her tone relaxing into its natural, friendly state as she lifted the book towards the pegasus above.

“Yeah... thanks,” Rainbow Dash muttered, descending to the floor on three hooves, the fourth holding the book against her torso. But she took little reassurance from Twilight’s words, casting her gaze around the poorly lit library entrance. “What happened here? The library’s a mess! And why are the blinds all closed?”

“Oh, just a bit of an accident,” Twilight answered, with a dismissive wave of a hoof. “A spell got a little bit burny and I didn’t want anypony to see the library all messed up.”

“Oh yeah, what’d you do? This looks way cooler than that stuff you normally mess around with!” Rainbow Dash pressed, taking flight a few inches off the ground as her gaze narrowed in on Twilight’s and her tone turned suspicious. In the shadows of the darkened room, she could barely see Twilight roll her eyes, though the sigh the unicorn made was audible enough.

“Nothing, Rainbow Dash. I just messed up the library with a new spell I was experimenting with and I need a little time to, you know, clean it up?” Twilight answered, holding her ground against Rainbow Dash’s piercing stare. After a moment, the pegasus pony turned away to head back to the window from whence she came.

“Oh yeah,” she asserted. “I know. I know all about it.”

“What does that even mean!?” Twilight exclaimed, exasperated. “Are you being like this because I didn’t come to see you practice last week?”

“Uh, no!” Rainbow Dash insisted, “It has nothing to do with you not coming and missing my super awesome new stunts which you’ll totally wish you’d seen! It has everything to do with you being all suspicious and shadowy!” Rainbow Dash made her way back to the window frame, pausing there to dramatically pose. Her wings flared, her hoof lifted, and with the courage of a thousand pegasus heroes of old, Rainbow Dash quipped, “You’re up to something Twilight, and I’m going to find out what!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight called after her as she ducked through the window. No answer came back though, and in moments she was gone. Twilight let out an irritated growl, a hiss of angry breath escaping her as her hoof stomped against the floor.

“Great! Just great! Now that’s two ponies I need to get rid of!”

“Oh, it’s awful, Applejack! Simply terrible!” Rarity cried out. Diners at nearby tables looked her way with thinly veiled irritation as she swept a hoof over her forehead, swooning backwards so far that she almost fell over. Ponyville’s outdoor cafe was crowded, even so late in the afternoon. Around them, ponies sat before brightly colored outdoor tables shaded by large folding umbrellas. Waiters moved between them from group to group, and at least one of them winced as he forced himself to remember how well Rarity always tipped. “I passed up my facial and mud bath just to follow her home, and not one peep out of her!”

Applejack looked up from considering the menu—but only just, and only for a moment. Rarity being Rarity was something she understood, but the menu was stumping her. In her opinion, it had entirely too many frills and fancy stuff and not nearly enough actual food.

“Ah’m sure it’s fine,” she answered offhoof, as she silently wondered what an “Eck-la-ire” was and why in Celestia’s name it would be five bits. “Twilight’s doin’ embarrassin’ stuff with her magic all the time. Like when she was practicin’ teleportatin’ and thought she’d gone and disintegrated Spike.”

“Oh, but you don’t understand! This has the smell of Canterlot scandal! You could see it all over her! In the way she darted from room to room, always surreptitiously peeking in ahead before stepping through a door. And how nervous she was on the way home! No, Applejack, this is something truly fabulous, I’m sure of it!” Rarity exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

“Twilight secludes herself for days on end, working on some... secret magical project!” Rarity reached around the table, pulling Applejack up against her, as she gestured high to the sky. “And now, suddenly, she pretends it never happened and is hiding something she’s deeply embarrassed about.”

“Y’all have been waitin’ for something like this for a long time, haven't you?” Applejack asked, her eyes level and her mouth unsure if she wanted to laugh for the absurdity or frown with worry. Eventually, she settled for a neutral look, extraditing herself from Rarity’s grip.

“You don’t know what those wizards get up to! The things you hear in the tab—in the papers.” Rarity corrected herself. “Wizards making up love potions, spying on their objects of desire, enchanting themselves to be dazzling or turning into, well, all sorts of things!”

The glee in Rarity’s voice left Applejack at a momentary loss for words. Save perhaps, “Y’all need to get out more,” but those didn’t seem like the sort of words she should actually say aloud.

“Seems a mite unlikely to me that Twilight’s into that sort of stuff, and even if’n she was, y’all should respect her privacy,” she finally managed, forcing herself to restrain a sigh as she tried not to give such nonsense more attention than it deserved. “But if y’all are really that curious, why don’t you just find Spike and ask him what they were workin’ on?”

“Oooh, I wanted to ask him then and there!” Rarity grumbled. “But I couldn't.” She lowered her head to the table, the motion forcing a sigh from her lungs. Applejack unsuccessfully tried to use the menu to shield herself against this topic of conversation, but to no avail. “Twilight was there the whole time for the walk back, and by the time we’d finished talking by her door, he’d gone inside.” Her lips pursed as her eyes grew imploring, a world-class pout assaulting the back of Applejack’s menu.

One of Applejack’s ears twitched, and to her own surprise as much as Rarity’s, she put the menu down, expression suddenly attentive. “Hold up.” She raised a hoof to interject. “Spike was there with y’all at the spa?”

“Of course! He waited in the lobby while we were inside. Didn’t I mention that?” Rarity asked, puzzled by Applejack’s interest. “I was on my way to meet Twilight anyway, so it seemed easier than taking a detour to the library.”

Applejack’s paused, a hoof reaching up to tap her teeth as she glanced upwards at the umbrella.

“Because I passed him and Fluttershy on the way here. She said that Twilight stopped by this afternoon to ask her to watch Spike for a spell. She was on her way to the park to go flower pickin’ with him, point o’ fact. Poor feller looked mighty miserable.”

“Impossible!” Rarity insisted—though her eyes remained locked on Applejack. “Twilight and I must have talked for half an hour before we parted ways. It couldn't have been earlier than three-thirty by the time all was said and done, and then I came right here! Even if Twilight scampered off to Fluttershy’s as soon as I was out of sight, she’d only be arriving there now.”

“I dunno, Twi can be pretty fast when she puts her mind to it,” Applejack muttered, staring off into the distance, lost in thought. “I’m more worried that she apparently foisted Spike off onto two ponies in a row.”

“Oh sweet Celestia, you’re right! I didn’t even think about that!” Rarity exclaimed, moving to rise from the table. Before she could finish the action, Applejack firmly tapped a hoof on the table for her attention.

“Now don’t go gettin’ all excited about all that tabloid junk. Knowin’ Twi, she’s just gotten in a bit over her head and is tryin’ to go and fix it without anypony’s help. We should just go find Fluttershy and Spike, and make sure everythin’s hunky-dory.” Applejack used her best tone for the situation—calming, and authoritative—but she might as well have shouted it like a schoolfilly for all that it mattered.

“I see now—it must be something so awful, so shameful, she doesn't want to warp Spike’s young, impressionable mind! Oooh!” She whined, “Now I just have to know!”

“Rarity!” Applejack snapped as she rose to her hooves, but the unicorn was already on her way, darting into town and towards the library. Applejack momentarily considered chasing her down, but decided against it. If Rarity wanted to make a fool of herself, that was her affair. “Sometimes,” she turned to the waiter as he approached at the commotion. “I swear I’m the only pony in this town with a lick o’ sense.”

“Now,” she pointed a hoof to the menu, “how’d y’all pronounce all these funny foreign words?”

“Oh no, is she okay?” Fluttershy asked, her words coming faster, her voices pitch rising with her worry. Normally, the park was a happy place for Fluttershy, its rolling green hills, sparse trees, and peaceful nature paths making it a welcome sanctuary. Now though, its natural calm was broken by the conversation of two agitated ponies, as well as one dragon.

Rainbow Dash’s frustrated growl scared away the few remaining birds who had tolerated her thunderous arrival. Her hooves reached up to her face in frustration, as she hovered around Fluttershy and Spike. The agile pegasus’s flight left her hooves free for such suitable dramatic gestures.

“Not ‘there’s something wrong with her’ like she’s sick! Like she’s up to something!” Rainbow Dash growled as Fluttershy tilted her head curiously.

“Oh, is it something fun? Because I remember the last time she was up to something, and it was that spell for my birthday to help all the cute little animals—”

“Something suspicious, Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash pressed. Her booming tone intimidated Fluttershy into a meek silence, the naturalist’s gaze going down to her hooves. They would have attracted a crowd, were the park not close to empty, the sun setting behind the distant horizon.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Spike answered for Fluttershy, the pony on whose back he rode. “Twilight’s not up to anything more suspicious then being her usual self. Luna got her some old book and she’s been obsessing over the spells in it ever since. You know how Twilight gets when she doesn't sleep.”

“Yeah!” Fluttershy agreed, eager to jump onto any thread of conversation that would result in less yelling, particularly in her vicinity. “She told me about that! She’s probably just really excited and—”

“Not so fast!” Rainbow Dash swooped low to stare Spike in the eye, nose to nose. “Aren't you her Number One Assistant? Why are you out here with Fluttershy instead of helping her clean up the library?”

“I—I dunno.” Spike admitted, suddenly sounding less sure of himself. “She said that I’d worked so hard setting everything up that she wanted to clean up the library herself.”

“Since when does Twilight give you time off when it’s time to clean up the library?” Rainbow Dash demanded. “Or did she not trust you enough to let you in on her scheme?” Fluttershy remained quiet, shocked into silence by the cerulean-coated pegasus’s accusations. Spike looked less sure of himself by the moment, his claws pressed together in worry.

“That’s crazy! Twilight totally trusts me with her schemes! Or she would if she had any, which she doesn't!” he insisted, adding, “I think.”

“Ah hah!” Rainbow Dash snapped, whirling to hover before the two, facing them head-on. Fluttershy’s objection fell silent in the face of such an imposing posture. “So you admit she might be up to something!”

“Um.” Fluttershy tried again, “I don’t think—that is, Spike was trying to say—”

“He did not say any such thing!” Applejack’s voice cut into the conversation, sharp and authoritative, dragon and pegasi alike turning at the earth pony’s approach. In the sunset-lit park, Applejack’s coat shone, almost blending in with the terrain, even as she trotted up the dirt path towards the other three.

“And I would appreciate you not puttin’ words in his mouth!” Applejack continued as she finished her approach, fixing Rainbow Dash with a stern glare. Rainbow Dash hesitated in the face of that fiery gaze, and after a moment, relented with a shrug.

“Okay okay, fine.” She insisted, “But c’mon, you have to admit, Twilight is definitely up to something.”

“Ain’t no reason to go hollerin’ at baby dragons.” Applejack held firm. “But y’all might have a point. I just got back from talkin’ to Rarity—you okay Spike?” She paused to check on Spike before continuing, turning to the young dragon seated on Fluttershy’s back.

“Sure.” He shrugged, adding, “I’ve been with Rarity and Fluttershy all day.” The yellow pony beneath him gave a happy nod.

“Twilight just seemed so flustered! It was the least I could do to watch him for a little while,” Fluttershy said, lifting her head, ears alert. Applejack nodded, giving her a thoughtful glance.

“Mighty kind of you. But even if Rainbow Dash is makin’ a big suspicious mountain outta a molehill, she does kinda have a point. It is mighty unlike Twilight to keep you outta the library, Spike. And Rarity said she’d been nervous all day at the spa, dartin’ around and peekin’ into rooms and such.”

“Oh no, you think she might be in trouble?” Fluttershy asked, voice full of earnest concern, Applejack’s answering nod making her and Spike share a nervous glance. “I’m thinkin’ we need to go have a talk with her at least. See what’s what.”

“Wait... hold on,” Rainbow Dash insisted, falling to the ground and pacing, her gaze tilted downwards. “Something here isn’t adding up. I was in Twilight’s library today, and something about it was just off.” Her brow furrowed in concentration. What was it that Daring Do did in these situations?

Right, she laid out all the facts.

“First!” Rainbow Dash listed. “Our subject, Twilight, is one unicorn wizard, a student of Celestia, Princess of the Sun.”

Fluttershy’s mumble of “We all already know her” went unheeded.

“Second! She recently received a magic book from Luna, Princess of the Night. A book she has been obsessing over.” As Rainbow Dash continued to itemize, Spike added, “And there’s a big spell in it she’s been working up towards!”

“Right! Third!” Rainbow Dash continued. “She doesn't seem to want Spike around the library. In fact, she had the whole place locked up tight. Fourth!” She pointed at Applejack. “Sneaking around the spa. And fifth... fifth...” She paced, agitated. She knew there was one more. Something that would bring it all together.

“And fifth... something wrong in the library. It was dark, but more than that.” She wracked her brain in thought as Fluttershy, Spike, and Applejack alike watched an unusually contemplative Rainbow Dash in silence. She focused, trying to remember every detail of the room: the books, the circle, how Twilight came up behind her while she looked ahead, the way she leapt when—

A thought caught in Rainbow Dash's head.

“Wait, I was looking at a mirror. How did she sneak up behind me, unless... oh my gosh, ohmygosh ohmygosh-ohmygosh-ohmygosh!” She shot into the air, bolt stiff. “I know what it is!”

“Oh, Twilight, darling! It’s Rarity!” The marshmallow unicorn’s hoof made three civilized taps on the library door as her melodious voice announced her presence. “I brought you something, dear!”

It was scarcely a moment later that the library door opened to show Twilight’s face—but it only opened a crack, the pony’s face peering out to see Rarity lit by the sun’s last fading rays. “Rarity!” She spoke—pleased, surprised, but also noticeably nervous, eyes darting between the white unicorn and the parcel on her back. “What brings you here?”

“Well, Twilight, after we parted ways, I just had to go back to the boutique and start working on those designs I told you about,” Rarity fibbed, resolving she’d make it up to Twilight later, “and I thought that the first one should be for you! Seeing how Spike is your assistant.”

“Oh my, how thoughtful of you Rarity!” Though Twilight’s tone was friendly, Rarity could not help but note that her eyes were on neither the unicorn before her nor the library. Instead, her gaze darted over the landscape around them, as if searching for something else in the distance. “I’m a little busy right now though—”

“Oh, surely you aren't going to turn me away, Twilight. Not on the cusp of a possible revolution in fashion! I simply must see how you look in it! I must! I must!” she implored. Twilight looked at the package and thought of how much effort must have gone into it, her gaze tilting back to Rarity’s after a moment's hesitation.

“Well... okay. I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.” Twilight relented, opening the door the rest of the way and letting light spill out into the street. Rarity happily trotted inside, pausing once within to look around.

“Oh goodness gracious, you certainly did a number on the library this time, Twilight!” she observed, her horn coming alight as she entered. Her magic pulled open the blinds and lifted the package from her back, pulling the container’s top away to reveal the black dress within. It was a dark, simple thing, some jewelry and suitable makeup packed in along with it. The room, at least, was not quite as bad as it might have been: the books neatly put away, the walls recently scrubbed, the great mirror in the room’s center turned to face the wall.

“Yeah... things did get a little out of control,” she admitted, raising an embarrassed hoof behind her head, only to have Rarity pull it and her across the room, holding the dress up against her.

“Well it certainly seems they did,” Rarity agreed as her eyes darted all around the room, looking for some, any hint amid the mess.

“This was inspired by Spike’s scales? It kind of looks like black silk.” Twilight started, Rarity laughing arily.

“Spiritual inspiration, dear, spiritual inspiration. I trust nopony was hurt?”

“Oh, no. There’s not even any real damage to the library. It’s just burnt ink,” Twilight answered, starting to pull the dress over her head, Rarity moving towards the stairs.

“I don’t suppose you have any eyeliner, Twilight?” Rarity asked casually.

“Oh... no, Rarity, sorry,” Twilight answered, Rarity internally fuming. So, she’s not worried about my poking around upstairs. Whatever she’s hiding must be in that dungeon she has for a basement. It fits really, all the best Canterlot scandals take place in dungeons. “Oh, it’s alright, Twilight. I brought some with me. It’s not quite your color but I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Now, what excuse do I have to poke around down there? Rarity mused to herself, as Twilight slid her way into the dress, “Wow, Rarity, this is... different,” she observed. The dress was a creation of black silk and onyx, clinging tightly to Twilight’s frame, save for the tall, imposing collar behind her head. “I didn’t think black was my color.”

“Well, that’s why it’s revolutionary,” Rarity answered, noticing the basement door ajar. “Now here, the makeup next.” She pushed, the glow from her horn surrounding eyeliners and hoofpolish, as inspiration struck her. “Shut your eyes, Twilight dear.”

As Twilight obeyed, letting Rarity do her magic, the snow-white unicorn quietly tiphoofed away, her unicorn magic leaving her instruments of fashion working in her wake. “That’s it, dear, just perfect,” she assured Twilight as she carefully nudged open the door with a hoof. Nothing but instruments and more books! she grumbled to herself. I was hoping for something obvious. Though I do wonder what those restraints and wires are for.

“Aah!” Twilight exclaimed as the grease pencils, brushes, and other tools of fashion did quick work, “Rarity! Are you sure you aren't overdoing it?” she asked.

Her question was well justified. Rarity’s eyes were not on her work as she peered more keenly into the basement. Mmm. No sign of anypony but Twilight having been here, so not a sordid affair.

“Quite sure, darling,” she assured Twilight. After a faint, distracted pause, she added, “Why would you ever think such a thing?”

A hoof tapped Rarity’s shoulder, the surprised unicorn whirling just in time to hear Twilight yell: “Because you made me look like a raccoon, poked me in the eye, and then put hoof polish all over my face!”

Later, Rarity would insist that she recoiled in surprise at Twilight sneaking up on her, but the truth was that she simply could not bear to think of the blasphemy against fabulosity she had created. Black eyeliner surrounded Twilight’s eyes in thick layers, making her gaze seem dark and sunken, a problem only worsened by how bloodshot her left eye was where the blindly driven pencil had poked her head-on. A fine white face powder adorned her hooves, while dark-red hoofpolish was scattered haphazardly over her face, the errant tools having knocked her mane wild.

“Why are you really here, Rarity!?” Twilight demanded, voice sharp as her horn. Rarity retreated as Twilight advanced with a snort. She backed away and across the room, like someone corned by an angry animal, letting out a weak and nervous laugh.

“I-I thought you seemed a bit stressed today and could use something to make you feel good.” Rarity started to explain, but Twilight cut her off.

“The truth, Rarity! Why are you sneaking around my house?” Twilight demanded. Rarity scrambled away from Twilight’s advance, the unicorn’s movements so sharp that they were almost muzzle to muzzle.

“It is the truth, dear!” she tried to insist. “It’s just a bit... cutting edge. You look fabulous, see?” A desperate, imploring smile touched Rarity’s face as her horn set alight, turning the mirror in the room’s center to face Twilight. “You see, you look—”

“—oh.” Rarity trailed off, her words dying in her mouth. “Oh my.”

“Slow down there, RD!” Applejack called as three ponies and one dragon raced through Ponyville’s darkened streets, Spike atop Fluttershy’s back. Fluttershy and Applejack stuck to the ground, while above, Rainbow Dash’s tension was palpable. “You still haven’t told us what the rush is!”

“No, guys, we have to hurry! We need to find Twilight before it’s too late! Pony lives depend on it!” Rainbow Dash urged. The seriousness in her tone prompted Applejack and Fluttershy to put on a burst of speed, forcing Spike to cling to the yellow pegasus’s back. Rainbow Dash could be a bit prone to exaggeration at times, but they could both hear the fear in her voice.

“I’m so stupid! I should have seen it earlier! The mirror, the drawn blinds. Standing so I couldn’t see her eyes!” Rainbow Dash almost shouted, her voice fearful and guilty as the three made a beeline for the library. “It was that it all happened during the day that threw me! But then I remembered, of course, she got the book from Princess Luna! Who knows what secret night magic star stuff was in it!?”

“Why does the book matter? Rainbow Dash, what’s happening!?” Spike demanded, scared himself now. At the thought of his big sister in peril, the little dragon clung more tensely to Fluttershy, as if digging his claws into her back would somehow get them there faster. She whimpered faintly, but offered no complaint.

“I read all about this in the last Daring Do novel! It’s all there. The blinds were drawn to keep out the sun. Twilight was nervous in the spa because she had to check which rooms had mirrors. And she wants to keep Spike away because tonight would be the last chance for him to warn everypony!”

“Warn everypony of what, what!?” Spike demanded, teetering on edge as Rainbow Dash made her final dive for the library door, the others in hot pursuit.

“Twilight found the dark rituals of Nightmare Moon and now—” Rainbow Dash’s hoof sent the door flying clear off its hinges with a brilliant flash of light. All three ponies burst into the room at once, eyes taking in the scene, as the door hurtled to the ground.

Twilight and Rarity stood together in the center of the room, Twilight’s hooves around her, as the white pony fainted backwards. As the ponies stood there in silence, light from the guttering candles silently spilled out into the street.

A dress of black silk clung to Twilight’s frame. Her hooves were pale and sickly. Her eyes were sunken and dark, and shot through with crimson. The left was so red that the original purple was almost invisible in the dark. That eye seemed to stand out, a single, focused beam, shooting towards the four intruders.

Though Twilight’s head shot up with alarm when the door came off its hinges, her quick action could not hide that she had her head against Rarity’s shoulder a moment ago. Nor could she conceal the crimson stain that adorned her face and Rarity’s neck. The high collar behind her cast Twilight into shadow, only the dim impression of her face visible, and the reflection off that bloodshot eye.

Silently, as expressions of horror dawned on the faces of the four intruders, their eyes shot to the mirror at the back of the room, in which Rarity could be seen to hang, with no one holding her.

Fluttershy shrieked, “VAMPONY!” And with an almost silent sigh, fainted.

“Rainbow Dash? Applejack? Spike? Fluttershy?” Twilight asked with increasing disbelief, she and Rarity disentangling themselves to turn and face the new arrivals. Twilight’s gaze flicked to the knocked-in door, and then to Fluttershy’s unconscious form.

“Oh, uh... hi, Twilight,” Applejack muttered, a big, fake smile on her face, as she slowly backed away, drawing closer to Rainbow Dash.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed, a tremor in her voice. “Hi.” She turned, mumbling to the earth pony beside her, “We need a stake!”

“What are you all doing here?” Twilight demanded, angily taking a sharp step forward, “And what’s this about vamponies?” Rainbow Dash and Applejack’s eyes scanned around the room, quickly, looking for something, anything she could use.

“The whole dang library’s made of wood. How can there be nothing here!?” Applejack quietly hissed to Rainbow Dash in response, raising her voice to speak clearly to Twilight. “Ah, well! Fluttershy was just bringin’ Spike back and uh—well, you know, we thought we’d uh, help her along! We’ll just be goin’ then!”

“Now hold on, you two,” Rarity insisted. “I know how strange this all looks, but I assure you, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. Twilight was just explaining to me—”

“Oh yeah, I saw how she was ‘explaining!’” Rainbow Dash burst out, unable to contain her reaction any longer. “She’s got you mesmerized, Rarity! She’s a monster in pony flesh!” The pegasus’s sharp accusation made Rarity step back in shock, her eyes wide. The mood only lasted for a moment however, and soon, Rarity took a step forward as she fixed Rainbow Dash with a glare.

“That’s quite enough, Rainbow Dash! I won’t have you speaking of Twilight that way! She—” Rarity looked up sharply at the sound of shattering wood, each of the ponies having forgotten about Spike in the confusion. From atop the stairs, a cry of “I’ll save you Rarity!” shot down into the library. Along with the shout came an old chair, the wood splintering into dozens of pieces on impact.

“Twilight.” Rainbow Dash drew a ragged breath. A hiss of air escaped her as she ripped a sharp shard of wood from the remains of the chair, but her breath was coming hard for other reasons. Eyes that had settled on Rarity with anger now turned to Twilight with an altogether different emotion, the pegasus’s voice almost cracking with the strain. It was like it took her to much effort to speak, a faint hesitation in her actions.

“I think it’s super awesome that you’re a creature of the night now,” she forced herself to press on. “And—and it might even be kind of cool to be your minion since we’re friends and all.” For a moment, Rainbow Dash looked like she might stop there, her words trailing off on a hesitant tremble. But then she drew up her strength, standing firm and letting her voice ring out.

“But for the good of all pony kind, I’m going to have to put you down!”

“Are you crazy?” Twilight demanded, with a glare to her two friends. “You can’t just break in and... and...” Twilight’s indignant tone faltered, as she noticed just how sharp the spar of wood in Rainbow Dash’s hoof was, the one in Applejack’s teeth much the same.

“Wait, put me down?”

The now black-and-purple unicorn took a hesitant step back, as the other two took a bold step forward, Twilight’s eyes growing wide. “Whoa, Rainbow Dash, Applejack.” A nervous laugh escaped her. “Very funny, you two. Joke’s over. I’m not really a vampony.” She took another step back, and the two ponies before her advanced one in turn. Twilight’s tail pressed against wood as she backed against the table behind her, the mirror there showing nothing but the two ponies pressing their advance.

“What’s wrong with you two!?” Rarity shouted, “This is Twilight, our friend! Or have you both gone completely crazy?”

“Ahm didn ‘lieve it eiher Rary,” Applejack mouthed around the stake, shifting it from teeth to hoof as the pair advanced on Twilight. “But RD is right! That ain’t Twilight anymore! She’s gone and sucked so much blood outta you that you look white as a sheet!”

“My coat is always white, you murderous half-wit!” Rarity snapped back, interposing herself between Twilight and the advancing pair. “Consider that you are about to kill Twilight based on a theory that came out of Rainbow Dash’s mouth!”

The advancing pair hesitated, a gap that Rarity used to press her advantage, her stance determined and horn held high. “Before you burst in, she was explaining to me that there was a magical accident and she was embarrassed about it. I told her it was alright and gave her a hug and some of her, um... hastily applied makeup got on my coat.” Rarity reached up to rub at the spot of red on her neck, the “puncture wound” blurring to a broad pink mark across her coat.

“So... she’s not a vampony?” Rainbow Dash checked hesitantly, Rarity rolling her eyes.

“No,” she answered, words clipped and tone curt. “She is not a vampony. Nor is she a cyberpony. Nor a space pony. Nor any of the other monsters from your books!”

If Rarity intended her words to land with some sting, she would have been disappointed, for neither Rainbow Dash nor Applejack showed the slightest hint of rebuke. Instead, they dropped their stakes with expressions of joy and relief. “Twilight!” Applejack exclaimed, leaping forward with Rainbow Dash not far behind, each of them seizing Twilight in a hug. “You don’t know how glad I am you’re okay!”

“Probably about as glad as I am not to be murdered by my friends,” Twilight grumbled, a judgmental twist to her words. But after a moment, she looked down, and saw Spike clinging to one of her legs right along with them. Despite the strain, she smiled and pulled the three of them into a broad hug, letting a frazzled but relieved sigh escape her. “You really thought I was a vampony?”

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash agreed, “You were all dark and menacing and Rarity was swooning into your hooves and you looked ready to whisk her off to be your bride of the night!”

“I was not swooning!” Rarity countered, with a stomp of her hooves, “And I—hold on, bride?”

“But, wait.” Spike’s voice cut in, stepping back from Twilight for a moment. He stepped away to look up at her, his expression puzzled “There’s something I still don’t get. Why’d you want to keep me out of the library? You’ve done way more embarrassing things then erase your reflection!”

“Well... that’s the thing, Spike. I didn’t erase my reflection,” Twilight explained hesitantly, three ponies and one dragon giving her curious looks as she pointed to the door.

“She’s over there.”

Four sets of eyes turned to the door and saw standing there in the open archway the very image of their friend, free of Rarity’s makeup and black silk, as proud and familiar as they day they had defeated Nightmare Moon together. Her purple coat and cutie mark were outlined brightly against the night behind her, as her curious eyes peered into the library.

“Um.” The new Twilight slowly looked around the room. She looked at her counterpart, at Spike, and at the other ponies there, trying to conclude what she had just walked in on.

“Did one of you break a chair over Fluttershy’s head?”

Chapter 5

Special thanks to my editors, Pascoite and Pav Feira, who made the heroic effort to turn my childish scrawl into something readable. I could not have done it without you.

Silence.

Nopony spoke. Nopony moved. Sparkle’s breath came faintly and quickly behind her hoof. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Spike all stood stock still, not daring to breathe at all. It was as though Sparkle’s words were a vicious predator that would strike at whoever made the most noise. From where he had been cringing against the bookshelves, Spike looked at the ponies in the room with wide eyes. Leftover tears glistened down Rainbow Dash’s face, sparkling in the sunlight before falling to the floor. Fluttershy was stiff as a statue, body and wings pressed flat to the floorboards around her.

“Get. Out.”

It was Twilight who broke the silence. Her body was faintly trembling as everypony in the room turned to face her, but her gaze was steady. Spike shuddered upon hearing her voice speak in such a tone, and when Sparkle looked to Twilight, Sparkle recoiled. She saw her own face, warped into mask of rage. She saw her own eyes narrowed into a glare, lips curled back in a twisted snarl. She heard the snort of hot breath escaping her muzzle, and the sound of her hooves scraping across the rough wooden floor. She saw that she favored one eye when she glared, the right tight and narrowed, the left wide and intense in its gaze. She saw how her ears folded back, how her teeth ground together.

“I—” she stammered, taking a step backwards.

“Get OUT!” Twilight screamed. Her horn flared, its light seeming to flicker and hum with the sound of her voice. Glass shattered as the windows of the library blew outwards with the force of her shout. A white-and-purple aura surrounded Sparkle, hurtling her towards the library door. The door opened inwards, and so Sparkle instead hit it with a sickening crunch that Spike could only pray was splintering wood.

“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Twilight’s voice became a screech as the energy field that held Sparkle picked her up again. It was like a living thing in and of itself, some great monster that had Sparkle in its grasp and was determined to be rid of her, no matter what got in its way. Sparkle was still dazed from the first blow when she felt herself lifted off the ground, the light around her taking hold to try to hurl her from the library.

“Twilight, no!” Rainbow Dash leapt towards Twilight, trying to tackle her to the floor. As the two grappled, Twilight struggled to keep her gaze on Sparkle, but Rainbow Dash shoved her to the ground, and the monster that held Sparkle was blinded. Her body missed the door entirely, and instead she went flying across the room like a rock from a sling. She hit the bookshelf above Spike and tumbled to the floor in front of him, books and broken pieces of wood landing atop her.

“Fluttershy, help!” Spike called, as Twilight and Rainbow Dash struggled with each other on the floor. Spike was relieved to see that Sparkle was still intact. She was covered in bruises and a few cuts, but she was already starting to stumble to her hooves. Twilight wasn’t done with her yet, though. Whenever her grapple with Rainbow Dash brought an object into her sight, the luminescent monster would grab it and blindly hurl it in Sparkle’s direction. Books and fixtures rained around her as she tried to stand, and the table from the room’s center smashed the shelf just to her left to splinters.

“Fluttershy!” Spike called again, and this time, his voice snapped her out of her stunned inaction. She took wing, leaping towards Sparkle and grabbing the dazed pony under her forelegs. “The window!” Spike shouted, pointing to the open frame. Fluttershy put on a burst of speed with a powerful flap of her wings, carrying Sparkle out of the library and into Ponyville’s skies. Her hooves dragged against the wood on her way out, broken glass delivering mercifully small cuts.

On the floor, Twilight found a surge of strength, shoving Rainbow Dash clear off her. Twilight recovered in an instant, rolling to her hooves and leaping for the window. Her horn was still ablaze with light when she saw Fluttershy and Sparkle escaping, and for a moment, she almost acted. That beast of light and force she commanded stood ready to reach out and pluck Sparkle from Fluttershy’s grasp, letting her tumble to the hard earth below. Twilight knew that all she had to do was will it to be so, and she would be rid of Sparkle forever.

That knowledge saved Sparkle’s life, and made Twilight scream.

The crashes and shouts in the library had drawn the attention of a few nearby ponies, and the windows blowing out had drawn a small herd. When Twilight came to the window, their attention was already drawn to Fluttershy, flying away with Sparkle in her grip. Few saw Twilight look out, but all heard her. A rough-throated roar of pain and anger that set teeth on edge, made coats stand up on pony’s backs, and made the herd decide that, just maybe, this was none of their business.

Then, the light from her horn faded, the monster went away, and Twilight slumped to the floor.

Slowly, Rainbow Dash and Spike stood up. Twilight started to sob.

Neither of them moved to help her.

For several minutes, nopony made a sound. Spike looked between Rainbow Dash and Twilight, eyes wide and blank. Rainbow Dash looked only at Twilight, biting her lower lip, her body stiff and her wings tucked in tightly against her body. Twilight moved only when her chest rose and fell with the sound of her tears, her hooves over her head. From time to time, a book page would rustle, or a piece of glass would fall from a window frame and break. At the sound, she would whimper, curling her hooves in more tightly around herself.

Then, Spike was at her side, his little arms around her.

“I didn’t know, Twilight. I was just trying to—” Spike started, his voice trembling, but he was silenced by a gentle hoof. Twilight stifled her sobs and raised her head, her chest faintly quivering with intermittent sounds of grief. Her eyes were bloodshot and her coat was filled with tears, but she found a smile for Spike, and pulled him close.

“Shhh,” she cooed. “You’re a little dragon, Spike. You make mistakes. One day this will just be a story about how crazy things were when you were growing up.” Her voice was so quiet that he was almost whispering, her voice hoarse from her earlier shouting. “Just don’t let it hurt you. I couldn't bear it if you grew up unhappy because of something I did.” Her hoof stroked the dull spines that adorned his back, the material soft enough that it folded under her touch. “I forgive you, Spike. It wasn’t your fault.”

Spike didn’t say anything in reply to that, shivering faintly under Twilight’s hooves as his own eyes started to water. Before he could cry, she shushed him gently, a brush from her muzzle wiping his eyes clean. “There. No need to cry,” she whispered. “We’ve been through a lot together, and we’ll get through this. You know that, right?” She watched as Spike hesitated, and then gave a firm nod, reaching up to wipe at his eyes with the backs of his own claws.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m fine.” He drew himself up straight, forcing himself to take an even breath.

“Good.” She leaned over him, and kissed the top of his head. “Now go upstairs. Rainbow Dash and I need to talk. I’ll be right up. I promise.” A sharp pat from Twilight sent Spike trotting upstairs. He paused halfway up to look back at her, but she urged him on with a gesture, and eventually, the upstairs door shut.

Through it all, Rainbow Dash had said nothing, watching the pair with a wide-eyed, tight expression. She still said nothing as Twilight rose to face her, looking at her friend in silence.

“You stopped shooting off truths,” Twilight observed, reaching a hoof up to rub at her bloodshot eyes.

“I’m not sure what’s true right now, Twilight.” Rainbow Dash’s voice was stiff as she answered, and her body was much the same. She took a step back when Twilight moved forward, her eyes locked on the pony in front of her. “For a moment, I thought you really tried to kill one of my friends. But I know you. And you wouldn’t do that.” Rainbow Dash’s posture grew more tense the longer Twilight didn’t answer. Her wings were plastered to her side so tightly that she had to force them to relax, her eyes desperately seeking any sign from the unicorn in front of her. “R-right?”

Twilight lowered her head and her ears folded back. When she finally answered, her voice was quiet and rough. “If I disappeared tomorrow, would you hold a funeral?”

“No.” Rainbow Dash’s hoof rushed to her mouth, but she froze halfway through the action. She looked down at her own hoof with suddenly wider eyes, a horrified fascination at the words that were involuntarily spilling from her own mouth.

“Would you miss me, even with Sparkle still around?” She looked up, and though she had not advanced, Rainbow Dash leaned away.

“Maybe for a little while.” Her words emerged as a whine, a plea extracted by magic.

“Would you give her my name back?” Twilight demanded, her volume sinking as her tone hardened. Rainbow Dash quivered, as Twilight pressed her back with the faintest of gestures.

“Why are you doing this?” Rainbow Dash’s voice trembled, her wide eyes uncertain.

“Did you ever hear about two Starswirl the Beardeds? Did you think he tried so hard to destroy a spell this useful because of a little identity crisis?” Twilight’s gaze leveled, and she gently raised a hoof to point at the pegasus in front of her. “This story isn’t over yet, Rainbow Dash. You all keep acting like this is the happily ever after, but we’re still in the first act, and the big finale is a death scene.”

Though Twilight had neither moved nor raised her voice for the whole of their conversation, Rainbow Dash stepped away again, like she was being backed against a wall by some forceful advance. With such distance between them, and Twilight so quiet, she barely heard the unicorn speak. “Except. I don’t get to die. If I died, ponies would care. Ponies would miss me. Mom and Dad and Shining Armor and my friends would be sad. Who’s going to mourn when I’m gone? Even the Element of Loyalty isn’t going to shed a tear for me. I don’t die, Rainbow Dash. I just disappear.”

Rainbow Dash backed away until her tail brushed the wall, feeling pinned to the spot by that gaze. She didn’t know what to do, or what to say, frozen like a pony in a cockatrice’s stare. But in a strange twist of fate, the potion that had so far undermined her came to her rescue, words rising unbidden to her throat. “That was jealous and cruel, Twilight.” Her words caught Twilight off guard, the unicorn’s head rising sharply. “I haven’t seen this side of you before, and I don’t like it.”

“I…” For a moment, her mouth moved but made no sound as she struggled for words. Her accusative hoof returned to the ground, and slowly, her gaze sunk as well. “I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash. I’m sorry. You can just... go.” She turned to head upstairs, a hoof meeting the stairwell. “I should go take care of Spike.” Her voice sank steadily as she walked, and it was a barely audible whisper as she muttered, “He’s probably so scared.”

The door at the top of the stairs opened and then shut. Several minutes later, Rainbow Dash turned and flew away.

The bell above the door of Carousel Boutique chimed as it swung open. Rarity was in her showroom, working on one small part of a very large order, but she heard the door open. She also heard the steady beat of pegasus wings and the sound of hooves moving against the floor, and inferred from that that she had two new arrivals. She turned with a sweeping gesture, ready to greet any potential customers with courtesy and flair. “Hello! Welcome to Carousel—oh my goodness!”

Rarity almost fainted with shock when she saw Fluttershy drag Sparkle inside. The unicorn’s body and face were a mass of blackening bruises, her coat was dotted with congealed blood, and the cuts on her hooves left a trail across the boutique’s floor. Her eyes were half open, aware but stunned. Fluttershy was clearly straining to keep her off the floor, and once inside, quickly moved to lay her across one of Rarity’s divans. “I didn’t know what to do,” she stammered. “I had to run away and I was panicked and the hospital was so far away—”

“Stop the bleeding,” Rarity ordered, tossing a roll of snow-white fabric to Fluttershy. In her opinion, the loss of the beautiful raw material was a loss to all fabulosity, but other things were more important. One-of-a-kind silky weave turned crimson as both ponies worked fast to wrap it around Sparkle’s hooves and hold it against her forehead, applying pressure to bandage her cuts. “I’ll run to the hospital. Keep an eye on her and—”

“No hospitals!” Sparkle’s voice was slurred, the unicorn still disoriented and stunned. Her horn glowed as she shut her eyes, the light traveling down from its base to envelop her body. Sparkle winced with the effort, drawing breath in with a sharp hiss of pain. The light grew brighter, and as it surrounded her, bruises disappeared, and the crimson flow from her hooves halted. A loud snap could be heard from her ribs, and Sparkle cried out in pain as something there set and mended itself. As the strain from the spell grew worse, it threatened to cause her more distress than her injuries, and she soon collapsed against the couch. The glow faded entirely, and though she looked better for it, it left many injuries behind. “No hospitals,” she repeated, letting her head fall to the divan. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, no.” Fluttershy tucked her wings in by her side as she landed next to Rarity. Her voice was quiet, but she pressed on without hesitation. “You’re hurt. Even if your magic helped, you need a doctor.”

“Do you want Twilight to go to jail for this?” Sparkle’s voice was strained, and she lacked the energy to raise it, but her words were no longer slurred. Fluttershy stepped back with surprise at the question, Rarity giving her a sharp, alarmed look. Neither of them answered, and so Sparkle repeated herself. “No hospitals. I just need some time to rest.”

“I just—” Sparkle drew a breath, a long pause hanging between her words, “—need some time.”

A silence hung in the wake of her words. Fluttershy bit her lower lip, looking between Sparkle and Rarity uncertainly. Rarity was stone-faced for a moment, her eyes traveling over Sparkle. She waited until she was sure that Sparkle’s breathing was even, and then pursed her lips, mulling the matter over. It was the better part of a minute before she spoke. “Come with me, Fluttershy,” she said, turning towards the back of the shop.

Quietly, the two walked out of the room. Rarity took one more careful glance at Sparkle before shutting the door to the front of the shop, turning a pointed stare at Fluttershy. “Explain,” she demanded. Fluttershy started to tremble under Rarity’s stare, but Rarity would have none of it, shushing her with a curt, “Fluttershy, there is no time for you to panic. I need you to keep calm and tell me what happened.”

“It’s all my fault.” A whine escaped Fluttershy as she spoke, but Rarity did not let it distract her.

“I highly doubt that,” she said. “Start from the beginning.”

“They were having problems, I mean. Spike said they were having problems. But it’s not his fault. I agreed with him! And they weren't talking about it with each other. We just wanted them to work things out.” Fluttershy couldn't meet Rarity’s gaze, and her eyes went to the floor. “We found a recipe for a truth potion. We thought it would just make them be honest with each other! But then Rainbow Dash got some by mistake, and she started saying every truth that came into her head. Terrible things, about her personal life and the Wonderbolts and what she was afraid of. I wanted to warn Sparkle. I tried!”

“I believe you, dear.” Rarity reached a hoof out to pat Fluttershy’s shoulder. “And let me guess. Sparkle drank it and said something that provoked Twilight?” Fluttershy gave a weak nod, relieved at not having to speak. “What exactly did she say?”

“She... she said she wished Twilight would just disappear.” Fluttershy whimpered and Rarity sighed, shaking her head at the news.

“Well, that would certainly explain why Sparkle doesn't want Twilight to get in any trouble.” Rarity paused, gaze going to the floor as she gently bit her lip in thought. “But we can’t simply pretend this didn’t happen.”

“How can you be so calm?” Fluttershy asked. Rarity raised her head, giving her a wan smile in return.

“Dear, a scant few minutes ago, I thought that one of my friends was about to die on my couch. I’m terrified.” Rarity drew a shaking breath, but after a moment, raised her head and straightened up. “But panicking now won’t help anyone.” The words emerged firm, a release of breath not far behind them. “I’ll go get Applejack. She’ll know what to do. Can you watch Sparkle? Make sure she’s okay and get her to the hospital if anything happens?”

“I...” Fluttershy said, before forcing herself to nod. “Yes. Yes, I’ll take care of her.”

“Good!” Rarity turned towards the main room, and after a few moments of making sure Fluttershy knew where everything was, left by the front door at a gallop, headed towards Sweet Apple Acres.

Alone with Sparkle, Fluttershy moved towards the divan and sat beside it. She was unsure if Sparkle was resting or asleep, and after a moment of rapidly growing worry, she reached over. The sharp touch of a hoof made Sparkle’s ears flick, and when Fluttershy reached out and pulled her eyelid open, her pupils contracted sharply with surprise.

“Fluttershy?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling away from the pegasus’s touch. Her voice was quiet and weak, but alert.

“I was checking if you had a concussion.” She lowered her hoof to the ground, tone soothing as she attentively watched Sparkle’s still form.

“I’ll be fine. Healing magic just takes—” Sparkle trailed off, a long pause hanging before she finished “—a lot out of you.”

For a time, nopony said anything. Sparkle lapsed in and out of awareness on the couch. Fluttershy watched Sparkle, and occasionally glanced at the clock, wondering when Rarity would be back. In her mind, she estimated the time it would take her to find Applejack and return. Again and again she did the math, each time with a new set of assumptions that gave her hope that Rarity could return at any second. She imagined that Applejack would be found at the market or on the road, and would rush back to the boutique, knowing just what to do. So deep was her daydream that she started when Sparkle interrupted it.

“I wish I could hate her.” Sparkle’s words sharply brought Fluttershy back to awareness, and she looked down at her friend with wide eyes. Sparkle didn’t even seem to be wholly awake, her eyes still shut and her breathing slow and regular. But her voice no longer needed the aid of her conscious mind to find expression, alchemy pulling pure and unvarnished truth from her throat. “Sometimes I worry. Does it make me a bad pony—to wish I could hate?”

Fluttershy had no answer, silent and frozen as she watched Sparkle with stiff eyes. But Sparkle seemed to need no answer, continuing steadily, as if she were just talking to herself. “If I hated her, I could think this was all her fault. That she was evil and wanted me to suffer. But I know better. She doesn't need to mean me any harm. She ruins my life just by existing.”

Fluttershy was frozen with indecision. Sparkle’s eyes were still closed, and her body was relaxed beyond her mouth. An oddly golden puddle of drool was forming on the pillow below her head, and her breath gave off the distinctive smell of cider. For a moment, Fluttershy considered covering Sparkle’s mouth, but the more Sparkle spoke, the more curiosity bound her to inaction.

“I hate being called Sparkle. I’m Twilight. My parents called me that, my brother called me that, my friends called me that. But now that’s her. Now my brother ruffles her hair and calls her Twily. Now I see my friends reminiscing about our adventures with some other pony. Ponies don’t want me anymore. They just want ‘one of them.’” Her words emerged as a bitter torrent, but her expression never changed.

“I’ve thought about getting rid of her. It would be so easy. One spell and she’s gone. Everypony would think it was natural. They don’t know any better. But then I remember her scream, and I realize I’m fantasizing about murdering another pony, and I just feel sick.” Fluttershy stepped back faintly, and though she knew she should be covering Sparkle’s mouth, or her own ears, she couldn't help but listen. It didn’t take long for her to lean in, closer and closer to Sparkle.

“I’ll never kill her. I couldn’t. I’m a good pony, and that means letting her stay, and bearing that burden, for as long as she lives. I created her, and I’ll take responsibility for my mistakes.” Sparkle’s face twitched, and an ear with it, batting down behind her head.

“She’s just so ugly.” Sparkle opened her eyes, matching Fluttershy’s gaze. “I don’t look like that, do I?”

“You’re awake.” Fluttershy drew in a sharp breath. She had drawn closer and closer to Sparkle during her monologue, straining her ears to hear the unicorn’s quiet words. When Sparkle suddenly opened her eyes, they were almost nose to nose, and Fluttershy lept back in shock. “I—uh. Why... why didn’t you cover your mouth?”

“It felt good to tell somepony. Anypony. I’m so sorry to burden you with that, Fluttershy.” Sparkle shut her eyes. “That was so selfish of me.”

With her eyes shut, Sparkle could not see Fluttershy move. She just heard her wings rustle, and then felt her touch, the pegasus’s hooves wrapping around her. Fluttershy gently lifted Sparkle from the couch, mindful of her bruises as she pulled the unicorn into a close hug. They held that position for some time as Fluttershy figured out what to say, Sparkle resting her head against Fluttershy’s shoulder. Fluttershy comforted her in silence, holding her close and letting her rest there. After several minutes, she knew what to say, and finally spoke.

“I forgive you, Twilight.” Sparkle went stiff at the use of her old name. Fluttershy leaned back to look her in the eye, supporting her head with a hoof. “I wish you had told me sooner instead of letting all this bitterness build up inside you, but I know you meant well. You’re a good pony.”

“Fluttershy...” Sparkle started, but as she struggled to find the words, Fluttershy shushed her gently.

“You need to rest now.” She gently lowered Sparkle back to the divan, tucking the pillow in under her head. “When you’re better, all your friends will be there to help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I don’t deserve friends like you, Fluttershy,” Sparkle murmured, but Fluttershy shook her head. After a moment, she found a cloth from the floor and wiped away the last traces of the potion and pony drool from where they had fallen to the couch.

“That’s not true.”

It would be unfair to say that Applejack didn’t welcome Rainbow Dash’s visits—she was always happy to see a friend. It was just that when Rainbow Dash visited, Applejack hoped it was to nap in the apple trees. The most likely alternative was that something on the farm was about to explode.

Today though, she seemed different. She was waiting by the barn instead of flying circles to pass the time. She didn’t have a cloud with her, and even at a distance, Applejack could tell her mood was dark. Her wings were out, but slumped, and her gaze was turned to the ground. Her expression was sullen, but her body was agitated, finding neither rest nor direction. She was pacing back and forth when Applejack returned to the barn with a cart of apples in tow. Applejack knew that her approach must have been audible, but Rainbow Dash didn’t look up to greet her until they were almost face-to-face.

“Uh... howdy there, RD.” Applejack slowly took off the harness that rested over her shoulders, keeping an uncertain gaze on the pegasus before her. It wasn’t like Rainbow Dash to let the conversation hang, and so when she didn’t immediately answer, Applejack’s tone grew more concerned. “Somethin’ wrong? Ya look mighty miserable.”

“I...” Rainbow Dash met Applejack’s gaze, but only for a moment, turning to pace an angry circuit between Applejack, the trees, and the side of the road. “I need your advice.”

“Oookay,” Applejack agreed, as she followed Rainbow Dash with her eyes. “What’s got ya in a twist?”

“I messed up.” Rainbow Dash growled in frustration, delivering a sharp and angry kick to the trunk of one of the trees. Its branches shuddered with the impact, those few apples that Applejack had not already harvested raining down around Rainbow Dash. “Something was wrong with a friend, and I didn’t notice. I could have helped them, but I didn’t do anything, and now...” Rainbow Dash drew a slow breath as if to calm herself, but it emerged as an angry yell, the pegasus delivering a series of three sharp kicks to the tree behind her. Each one struck the wood head-on, until bark splintered and sap adorned Rainbow Dash’s hooves.

“Whoa there!” Applejack stepped up towards Rainbow Dash, raising a hoof to the pegasus’s shoulder. “Who is this about, RD? What happened?”

“I don’t know what to do, Applejack! I’m the Element of Loyalty. I’m always supposed to be there for my friends!” Rainbow Dash’s tone was strained, but her gaze never met Applejack’s. Instead, the pegasus kept her eyes towards the ground, beating at the earth with a hoof. “But now my friends are fighting because I was an idiot and thought everything was okay and everything’s wrong!”

“RD!” Applejack insisted, raising her voice as she squeezed the pegasus’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Rainbow Dash didn’t answer at first, and after a moment, shrugged Applejack’s hoof away. “You wouldn't understand, but... if one of your friends did something bad... Something really bad, but you know why they did it, and they aren't a bad pony. They were just in a really bad place...” She kept her gaze to the ground, still not able to meet Applejack’s gaze. “I don’t know what to do.”

Applejack hesitated, only starting to grasp just how serious things were. Her mouth twisted into a frown as she considered pressing Rainbow Dash for details again, but after a moment, she spoke. “You just gotta come clean about these things, RD. If your friend had her reasons, other ponies will understand.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. Applejack started to reach out to her again, but was interrupted by a call in the distance.

“Applejack!?” Rarity’s voice echoed about the orchard. Applejack turned her head and quickly saw Rarity. She was galloping towards Sweet Apple Acres, obviously distressed, and it didn’t take Applejack long to connect the two events.

“RD, do you know—” she started, but when she turned back to where Rainbow Dash had been standing a moment ago, there was nopony there. In the sky, she could see a streak of blue moving away, already distant. “Rainbow Dash! Come back here!” she called, but the retreating pegasus did not turn around. Applejack watched her for a moment before stomping her hoof to the earth with a growl of, “Horsefeathers!”

“Applejack!” Rarity called again. She galloped forward until she was almost directly behind Applejack, and only then did she try to stop. She slid sharply with the force of her deceleration, her hooves digging grooves in the earth as she came to rest next to the earth pony. “Applejack, oh thank Celestia I found you!” Rarity’s breath came in pants, and she had to pause before she could speak again. When she did, the words came quickly, almost slurring together with their haste.

“Twilight and Sparkle had a fight. No, a brawl! Poor Sparkle was beaten bloody and only barely escaped. She’s in the boutique now, but she insists we not involve the authorities. I—”

“—don’t know what to do,” Applejack finished for Rarity, with a heavy sigh. She set her teeth on edge, focusing her mind on the problem and her gaze on Rarity. “Sparkle’s okay?”

“Yes, for now. She cast some sort of spell on herself that seems to have healed the worst of the damage.” Rarity turned back down the road, and Applejack trotted after her. Side by side, the two moved back towards Ponyville, Applejack's gaze locked ahead. Rarity looked at her with growing concern as Applejack moved in silence. “Fluttershy is watching her.”

“What started it?” Applejack asked, eyes towards Ponyville as she moved at a brisk trot.

“I wasn’t there, but Fluttershy explained that Sparkle drank a truth potion and started saying things that... might have been better unsaid. Apparently, this culminated with her admitting she wished Twilight would just disappear.” The two trotted in silence for a time, Rarity only growing more worried. It seeped into her tone when she spoke, her hesitance increasingly obvious. “I... was thinking that... well, Twilight lost her temper, certainly! But given the circumstances, perhaps—”

“If Twilight beat Sparkle bad enough to get you runnin’ here in a panic, we gotta get the Princess involved, Rarity. Bein’ provoked is one thing, attackin’ a pony is another,” Applejack spoke, her words sharp. “But,” her tone softened, “Twi ain’t a bad pony, and she ain’t violent neither.” For a moment, the two ran alongside in silence. “Maybe there’s more to this.”

Rarity nodded, and the two ran the rest of the way to Ponyville in silence.

Spike was asleep, but Twilight was sure he wouldn’t rest for long. His exhaustion was brought on by stress, and his sleep was fitful. Twilight had comforted him, told him that everything would be alright, and shared stories from when they were younger until his panic had subsided. She told him things she couldn't know and made promises she couldn't keep, until finally, he nodded off. She left him upstairs, tucked into his bed, and then quietly made her way back down.

She had just finished cleaning the broken glass from the library when Rainbow Dash returned. Free of any dangerous shards, the library’s windows looked bare, like they had been intended to be open to the elements all along. For once, instead of bursting into the library, Rainbow Dash hovered outside and carefully picked her way in through one of the now-open windows. Once inside, she landed, Twilight turning to regard her with tired eyes.

“Be careful,” she urged, levitating the bag she had used to collect the pieces of broken glass into the trash. Her gaze turned away from Rainbow Dash, and went back to watching her work. “I might have missed a few pieces.”

Rainbow Dash’s wings were ruffled, her feathers faintly askew from stress. Her mane was more wild than usual, and there were faint lines under her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak when Twilight turned away from her, but paused. Her jaw shut, and the distinctive clack of teeth knocking together could be briefly heard.

“You’re not spitting out truths anymore,” Twilight observed, but instead of answering, Rainbow Dash spread her wings. A brief flap lifted her into the air, and she landed in front of Twilight, facing her. Twilight backed up a half-step in surprise, her gaze meeting Rainbow Dash’s. At first, Rainbow Dash didn’t say anything, and Twilight grew increasingly unnerved as the pegasus watched her.

“What am I supposed to do, Twilight?” she asked after several seconds had passed. Her tone was strained, her eyes locked on Twilight’s face. “I didn’t... you and Sparkle made up! You were getting along. Pinkie Pie threw a party! I thought that made everything better.” Her voice trembled, but surged with anger as she yelled, “Then you made me say those horrible things!”

Twilight flinched at Rainbow Dash’s accusation like the pegasus had actually struck her, but Rainbow Dash wasn’t finished. “Now I don’t... I went to Applejack for help, but I couldn't tell her what I told you. How could I admit I didn’t care what happened to a friend, huh!?” Her wings flared when she shouted, and Twilight shrunk back from her. Rainbow Dash hesitated, watching Twilight flinch away, seeing the faint trembling in her own hooves. After a moment, Rainbow Dash stepped away, forcing her wings to fold again.

“I don’t know what to do, Twilight. I messed up, but I don’t know how to make it better. I did something awful to a friend because I thought things would just go back to like they were, and... and I can’t go to anyone for help because I’d have to say what I did and...” Slowly, she lowered her gaze to the floor. “Tell me how to make it okay.”

“It’s—” Twilight stammered. “It’s okay, Rainbow Dash.” She reached out a hoof to the other pony’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t really mean it—”

“Stop lying!” Rainbow Dash shoved Twilight’s hoof from her shoulder. A sharp beat of her wings lifted her off the ground, letting her stare fix on Twilight from above. Her eyes were narrowed and her voice was raised, but Twilight could see the hints of tears forming, and there was more than just anger in those words. “You lied to all of us. You lied to Sparkle and lied to me and told us everything was okay when it wasn’t okay at all!” She struck forward with a hoof, as though to beat the ground for emphasis, but her hoof passed only through empty space. “And it’s not okay now. I meant every word. Every awful word!”

Twilight struggled to find a response, her eyes wide as she looked up at Rainbow Dash. “I don’t—” She flinched and backed away, like the truth was being painfully extracted in a more literal sense. “I don’t think things will ever be better, Rainbow Dash.”

“Why not? Why can’t the magic of friendship save us this time?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking down at Twilight, hurt and confused.

But Twilight had no answer.

“Oh thank goodness,” Fluttershy said with relief when she heard the knock at the door. Sparkle was resting soundly, but Fluttershy’s worry had only been growing. She was sure that Applejack and Rarity would know what to do, and so she all but galloped to the door to yank it open. The door flew open in a rush of motion.

Fluttershy froze.

“Um,” Twilight muttered, Rainbow Dash standing beside her. “Is Sparkle here?”

“Stay back!” Fluttershy’s wings flared out to either side to block the doorway, as if Twilight were about about to try to barge past her. Her hooves dug against the wood, and she forced her eyes into a glare. The faintest tremble of fright betrayed the truth she so valiantly attempted to conceal, but she pressed on anyway. “I’m taking care of Sparkle and I won’t let you hurt her!”

“Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash tried to interrupt, as Twilight shrank back under the verbal assault. Fluttershy showed no signs of having heard her, pressing on with sharp words.

“Rarity and Applejack will be here soon and I don’t know how you could hurt a pony like that! It was awful!” Fluttershy pressed. Rainbow Dash put a hoof around Twilight to stop her from backing any further away, the unicorn taking courage from her friend’s touch. “I’ll use The Stare on you! Don’t think I wo—”

“Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash snapped. Fluttershy abruptly fell silent, her eyes wide. “She’s only here to talk. Talk.”

Rainbow Dash’s shout had focused Fluttershy’s attention, and Fluttershy could now see details she had missed before. She could see that Rainbow Dash’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. She could see the way Twilight was flinching under the impact of her words, and that Rainbow Dash’s hoof was all that stopped her from fleeing outright. She could see the expression on Twilight’s face, the shame in her eyes, and when she met Twilight’s gaze, Twilight looked down.

“I...” Fluttershy momentarily hesitated as she looked between Rainbow Dash and Twilight, but she soon recovered her protective stance. “I don’t think I can let you in.” Her voice was not as harsh as it had been before, but her resolution remained the master of her fear, and she stood firm.

“I just want to tell her I’m sorry,” Twilight mumbled, looking towards Fluttershy’s hooves. “I just want to tell her why I did it.” For a moment, nopony spoke. “Please.”

Fluttershy neither moved nor spoke, and silence quickly supplanted the conversation. It was Rainbow Dash who broke it again, raising her voice to Fluttershy. “Fluttershy! This is Twilight. If she wanted to get past you, you couldn't stop her! And besides—” she hesitated for a moment, trying to find the words “—she just wants to try and... fix things. Like we always do.” Rainbow Dash swallowed and Fluttershy looked increasingly nervous, but neither moved. “Are you the Element of Kindness or not!?” Rainbow Dash burst out, tone fraying as she ran short of ideas.

Slowly, Fluttershy tucked her wings in against her body, Twilight hesitantly looking up. The protective glare in Fluttershy’s eyes made her try to draw away again, but Rainbow Dash held her firm.

“I’ll be right beside her,” Fluttershy said quietly, eyes still narrow. “And if she asks, or if I think you’re making her uncomfortable, you leave. Got that?”

“Got that.” Twilight murmured. Fluttershy stepped backwards and out of the way, letting Twilight and Rainbow Dash into the boutique.

Fluttershy had drawn the blinds so that sunlight would not disturb Sparkle’s sleep, casting the inside of the boutique into a gloom. Cracks of light shone from under the curtains and around their edges, drawing long boxes of light along the floor. Sparkle was still resting, and the other three ponies fell into a hush when they entered. The shadowy illumination and the lack of sound, save for the wind outside, gave the room a strangely abandoned feel, even though it was both inhabited and furnished.

Twilight couldn't help but wonder why Sparkle had not awoken at the sound of the confrontation by the door. A glance at Sparkle’s still form almost sent Twilight fleeing back outside, but Rainbow Dash’s reassuring squeeze sent her forward. The three split up, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy going behind the couch, Twilight sitting on her haunches in front of it.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Twilight asked, leaning in to look closely at her counterpart. “She didn’t hit her head or...”

“No, I checked.” Fluttershy assured. “She cast some sort of healing spell on herself earlier that she said took a lot out of her. She’s been in and out of consciousness since.”

Twilight nodded and leaned in closer to Sparkle. She hesitated for a moment, letting her eyes travel over her counterpart’s face, but then she completed her approach. A nod of her head brought the tips of their horns together, and a faint purple spark jumped between them.

Light flowed from one to the other, pulses of energy traveling up Twilight’s horn and then down Sparkle’s. Sparkle’s remaining wounds started to fade, like they were nothing more than an aberration of sight, to be lost when one blinked them away. Twilight began to look more spent, Sparkle more invigorated, and the energy flowing between them began to slow. Each mote of light, each pulse of energy, was further from the one before it than the previous had been.

Finally, one shining point traveled up Twilight’s horn, passed between them, went partway down Sparkle’s, and paused. It reversed its course, until it came to rest precisely between them, where it faded away into the air. Each seemed as tired as the other, each as strained. Rainbow Dash bit her lip when she saw how their frazzled manes had tangled the same way. One was tousled by violence, the other by sobbing, but somehow, each hair had bent just the same way, in just the same order—one on the right, one on the left.

Even split between two unicorns, the miraculous healing of wounds was no minor feat of magic. Sparkle stirred faintly, but still did not raise her head, and above her, Twilight yawned widely. “She’ll be fine,” Twilight assured Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. “I just...” Twilight’s head sunk the last half-inch to rest on the couch next to Sparkle’s. “...need some time.”

Her eyes fluttered for a moment, and then, closed.