2+2=5
Twilight stared at the paper. That was all she had written.
2+2=5
Some part of it seemed wrong to her, seemed off, but Celestia had put it there and that meant it was right, that meant it was true, because Celestia is right about everything and that makes sense to a filly as young as Twilight.
Celestia knew. She knew that two and two make five, and it was her job to teach Twilight that two and two make five, so that’s what it was, and that’s what Twilight knew now, too.
2+2=5
Twilight reassured herself of this, in fragmented sentences and consoling phrases.
She breathed.
It’s okay. She told herself. Celestia’s right. Celestia knows what’s right. She took up her quill again, with her magic, and carefully dipped it in the ink.
She breathed. She knew what to do next, it was simple, Celestia knew.
2+2=5
5-2=2
2-5=-2
-2+5=2
-2-2=-5
-5+2=-3
She quickly smudged out the three. She wondered how she came up with a silly answer like that, when she knew it was two. She shook her head, casting out her silly little filly thoughts and dumb answers, and corrected her mistake.
“Negative five and two make negative two.”
Celestia always said how smart Twilight was, how bright, that she would make a great mathematician. Twilight recalled this and blushed.
Good thing Celestia’s not here. Twilight didn’t like failing the Princess, mostly because every filly, at least at that age, aims to please and searches for acceptance, something Twilight had never found before.
2+2=5
She said it out loud, praying that would convince her mind that it was true. She wasn’t old enough or smart enough, not nearly, to know any better. To even fathom her teacher was wrong, because the very idea of it was silly, how could Celestia be wrong? Celestia knew.
And Celestia had been so sure, had been so kind in explaining the simple fact to Twilight. It was not a mistake, for Princesses don’t make mistakes, and even if she had, she would’ve-
Twilight stopped her train of thought, stopped the silliness.
Of course Celestia was right. She breathed again.
Continue.
She stared at the paper. Those were all the facts she could think of.
But then she started thinking. Her mind started turning, in the most dangerous of ways. The numbers seemed to slowly float off the paper and swirl around Twilight, unlocking and moving about and making everything so clear.
Twilight dipped her quill in the ink and began to write, adrenaline rushing through her veins.
2x2=5
5/2=2
2x-2=-5
-5/2=-2
-2x-2=5
5/-2=-2
Those were all the facts, though her mind didn’t stop. No, quite the opposite, it was inflated with the new feeling of discovery, of eureka, though her brain hadn’t learned that word yet.
Her train of thought traveled back into her memory, speeding past her questions.
A number times itself...
2^2=5
√5=2
She let her quill drop, sat back in her chair, and smiled. A strange sort of smugness crept into her, and a dollop or eagerness. How pleased Celestia would be, at the progress Twilight had made, just from the simple fact that two and two make five. How thrilled at her memory of squares and square roots she’d be. How impressed.
And maybe, a small idea would be planted in Celestia’s mind, like a seed that would someday grow into the prettiest flower, prettier than all Twilight’s dresses would be after being crowned Princess of Smartness (she’d work on the title).
Twilight’s right brain happily slipped into this fantasy, the left side perfectly content with its job well done. She imagined banquets and suitors and book signings, with big banners that said...
“Two plus two equals five: Twilight Sparkle proves how smart she is.”
Twilight sat up, surprised by her own voice.
“Two plus two equals five.” She repeated, uneasiness creeping back from where it lay dormant.
Her eyes fell on her paper, on the eight equations, facts, truths she’d written. She tried slipping back into the warmth of satisfaction, but it had already faded, banished to the doldrums of self-doubt.
She attempted to pick her quill back up, but her magic couldn’t get a strong enough hold on it.
Twilight breathed. She concentrated. The quill returned to the table, bathed in her pink aura.
It’s so simple, just a fact. Magic doesn’t make sense either, does it?
The quill clattered to the ground, rattling Twilight’s mind. Her hooves instinctively went to her ears, but that didn’t stop the ringing.
Two plus two plus two plus two plus two plus two plus two plus two plus...
“MAKE IT STOP!” She yelled, far too loud for such a shy filly.
She didn’t hear the clatter of hooves over the cacophony of twos.
“Twilight... Twilight are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m... fine."
The door swung open, suddenly yellow.
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Princess?”
“Yes?”
“What does two and two make?”
“Five darling, don’t be silly.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you.”
“Perhaps you should get some sleep.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“Goodnight, my faithful student.”
“Goodnight, Princess.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“With Luna’s blessing.”
The door shut again. They could both sense each other’s uneasiness, but neither one did anything about it.
Celestia’s right. I should get some sleep.
Celestia’s right. The phrase echoed in her brain. She realized the twos had stopped. It echoed again.
Celestia’s right, Celestia knows, Celestia’s true. The phrases were pulled to her conscious for the millionth time, swirling and mixing into a pile of strange emotions.
And Twilight prayed. She prayed to beings a hallway over. She prayed for peace. She prayed that the numbers would simply jump off the page and tell Twilight what was right.
No. That’s what she had Celestia for.
Two plus two equals five.
Two and two make five.
2+2=4
