Pointless

by Dark Avenger

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike
Length: 6111

Twilight Sparkle writes a letter to Princess Luna...

Twilight Sparkle writes a letter to Princess Luna...

(Many thanks to "Pre-reader 63.546" from EQD for all the help with the editing)
(Now with a dramatic reading by Kaoticon) (link)

Published 2014-09-14 04:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-17 21:08:43 UTC

"Dear Princess Luna..."

I understand that this letter must come as a surprise to you, especially given the timing and the content. While I made sure to keep in touch ever since that fateful night during the Summer Sun Celebration, you may have noticed how I don't send you nearly as many letters as I did – and still do to this day – to my mentor, though I hope this did not lead to any "sister strife" between the two of you but tonight felt like an appropriate time to try and correct that.

I apologize in advance for the unusual nature of this letter. Unlike nearly all of my other writings, this one is not rehearsed or planned in any way. I'm pretty much doing this on the fly. And, to be honest, even I'm not completely sure why I'm writing this right now. It's late, well past the time any reasonable pony would have gone to bed, and I can barely keep my eyelids open. My hooves are practically screaming at me to just ball this up, throw it into the fireplace, and get some rest already.

And yet something just compels me to keep writing. To keep thinking of things to write. The only reason I'm awake right now is because I want to get this out of my system.

This feels so stupid

I wanted to put my thoughts and emotions on paper so I could see them. Raw and unedited. If I can read them back, then maybe I can make sense of them. That's why I left out any kind of forethought or rewriting. In fact, the very idea of addressing this to you came to me just moments after I picked up my quill...

On that note, I must confess another thing. I have selfish reasons for writing to you specifically. I originally had Princess Celestia in mind, but I didn't want to disturb her at this hour. She deserves better than that. At the same time, however, I didn't have the patience to wait for a reply in the morning either. So I thought of you instead. And once I'm done with this letter, I'll stay up for a while longer. Maybe you'll write back to me. Maybe not. I don't really care anymore

I'm not so sure about this anymore. This rant of mine is clearly not worthy of the time nor the attention of a pony who has far more important duties to take care of. I hope I didn't manage to disturb such a task. The way I send these letters doesn't let me check on the pony on the other end. I sometimes wonder what happens immediately after Princess Celestia gets the reports I send her, but every time I think to ask, it just feels silly. Does she read them right away? Do they ever land in her tea? Do they get lost in other paperwork for that day?

I don't know... I just wanted somepony else to read this once it's done. I'll wake up Spike and have him send it. The poor little guy. He shouldn't have to wake up so late (so early?) because of me. Feel free to answer whenever it will be convenient. Or not at all. I'll wait a little. Keep the lights on. Maybe grab another book. Perpetuate the rumors. The neighbors keep joking about how I tend to stay up so late. Most of the ponies I know bring it up every now and then.

"Went through another doorstop, Twi? One for every circle under your eyes?"

We all laugh of course. I'm not offended. The habit is indeed kind of silly. But it isn't always true. In fact, I hardly ever manage to read more than a few pages late at night. If the sky is clear, then I prefer to just gaze at the stars. They can comfort me. Reading does not. The mind doesn't work well when it's tired. I do it mostly when I can't sleep. Or when I don't want to for whatever reason. Sometimes, I find myself rereading the same page over and over again while hours tick by. I read and reread the words to stop myself from thinking. It helps, but it also keeps me awake.

I think it goes without saying, I'm in a terrible mood right now. But it makes no sense. Today was a perfect day. The sun came up, just like every other day. If the sun comes up at dawn and gives us warmth, then that day is perfect. Nopony should have to complain if they get to see it. Not if they get to live and breathe and walk and jump and talk and dance and sing in its light. We can hardly imagine how awful it would be to lose such blessings. But sometimes... I still feel like it's all just weighing down on me. I just retreat into the library and find a huge book so it will eat up most of my day, and I can forget about it as quickly as possible.

Even now, I didn't stay up to write. Not at first. I got out a book, as usual. But I didn't want to read. Now I want to tell somepony. I don't always stay up late just to read. I'm waiting for something. I want something to happen. I sit here and stare at the candle or look out the window and just wait. Why doesn't anypony ever knock on the door at this hour? Why are my closest friends the most frequent visitors by far? Some of them hardly ever read anything. Why does the town even need a library? Why don't I ever see some nervous pony begging me to be allowed to borrow a book because they just found out that they need one and couldn't wait until morning?

Remember Nightmare Night? Remember that costume I made? Well, I actually did start that history group after the festival. Only as an experiment. I wasn't expecting much of a stir. But, to my surprise, ponies did show up. Most of them stayed all the way until the end of the series of "Star Swirl" lectures. Then that was it. They left. Foals went back to school. Adults went back to work. Elders went back to... staying at home, I guess.

Nopony ever came up and asked me about it. Nopony went "Hey, Twilight! What are you planning next?" It was almost as though it wasn't the lecture they all cared about, but the pony behind it. Maybe I'll do things like this incognito from now on. Having ponies show up just because of a name and a role defeats the purpose of the event.

I know what you're thinking. "Why not tell this to your friends?" But I did that already. The response was always something along the lines of "taking everything too seriously." Life, according to them, isn't worth worrying about so much. Not when there aren't any monsters to fight or great deadlines to meet.

"When in doubt, just laugh. Take five. Embrace the day."

I keep seeing Pinkie Pie in my head. Even now, she makes me smile. But my curiosity gnaws at me relentlessly. And she wants me to just bury it? My friends want me to just accept the inexplicable as it is?

Maybe I didn't express myself well enough. I doubt my friends would ever ignore my concerns. I'm happy that they want me to be happy. They're right, I do worry too much. Still, none of what they responded makes any sense. Yes, it always helps to have a bit of respite. But it wasn't "carefree laughter" that stopped Discord. We didn't wrap up winter by "leaning back and drifting away with the current." We didn't free you from You get my point.

I don't have the heart to tell that to my friends, or any of Ponyville for that matter. On the other hoof, I can't help but feel that anything else I do here besides "learning about friendship" is pointless. I can never convince anypony how important it is to be inquisitive. To not ignore the questions our world places before us. If anything, it's only thanks to the efforts of those that "never rest" why so many others can now lie back, relax, and tell me to act like they do.

Actually, I take it back. They do ignore me. Once we're all in the thick of it, everypony is all ears. But when it's time to "take it easy," then it isn't convenient to bother with my "delusions" now, is it? That kind of thinking almost cost us my brother's wedding, not to mention all of Equestr No, I won't name examples. There exist those that make me equally guilty.

I'm sleepy and I'm making accusations. Silly me. It's very late. I should get some sleep. Everypony else is, and look how happy they are all day. Perhaps the night really is just a time for us to rest.

You know what this is like, don't you? Being ignored? This has been eating away at me for some time. For a thousand years, everypony had heard the same story. Even you had to apologize for it. You thanked me for stopping you. But I never once heard the story from your side, nor have I heard of anypony else who did. The whole story. The part that convinced you to take such action. This "gap" had led to a lot of speculation among your subjects. Most of what I've seen is rather convoluted, and some theories are just downright silly.

Looking at the stars now, I find that old ponies' tale impossible to believe. How could anypony ignore such a beautiful sight? Ignore it to the point that you once went to war with your sister over it? Unlikely. Or were ponies so much different back then? Was the night sky not as pretty? Is there more to this tale that got left out?

I can't imagine what it must have been. Jealousy? And if it was, then was it anything like how I feel now? I see my friends attract entire crowds with what they do. Their passions are the passion of the masses. Mine are the butt of friendly jokes or get ponies to worry about me. They inspire others to be carefree to avoid ending up how I sometimes do. And maybe they're right. And as long as I enjoy these things, why bother trying to impress anypony else with them? Then again, why bother having friends at all? Besides it's not like I can't find ponies here that share my passions.

Nopony is in the wrong here. I know a counterargument for every one of my own complaints. They all seem convincing enough. So why does it still bother me?

I guess it's time for one dweller of the night to ask for help from the other. Maybe if I were there back in that age and stayed up late like I do now, and you could have seen it, then you wouldn't No, that's me being silly now. I should probably stop writing. This looks about enough. I'm almost out of ink, my eyes hurt, and my head is about to hit the desk. I don't know what this had become, but I'll send it anyway. If nothing else, it will finally let me sleep well.

Pain stabs into my heart every time I look at Spike. Every word I write is a chore now. As soon as this is done, I'll have to wake him up. Poor thing. He had too much to eat. Again. His snoring makes me smile. He doesn't deserve this. I don't think I'll even tell him what he has to send and why, though I doubt he'd press for very long. He'll chalk it up to me being a "crazy night owl" and go back to his dreams.

Maybe I'll talk to him in the morning. I'll talk to all of my friends. I'll probably forget about this tomorrow. The sun will rise, I will be happy again, I can meet my friends, and we can embrace another perfect day.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope it was worth your attention. I hope you can help me with what troubles me. Even I'm not sure what it is yet.

Your friend,
Twilight Sparkle

The mix of gray smoke and green fire swiftly escaped through the window. The young dragon grumbled under his breath as he trudged back to his bed and pulled the blanket back over his body. Moments later, his faint snoring buzzed in the darkness once more. Twilight smiled, and her hoof reached out to stroke Spike's head gently. She then trotted back to her desk, opened one of her old magic textbooks, and browsed through its pages for a while, enjoying the nostalgic value more than its actual content. After a few more minutes of reminiscing, she closed the book, gave a long yawn, and trudged over to her own bed. Letting out a deep sigh, she collapsed onto the soft mattress and closed her eyes.

The letter still seemed like nonsense. Getting it done, however, was all the relief she needed. As she slowly drifted into unconsciousness, she felt comfortably empty.

A loud belch rang out behind her, accompanied by a brief flash of green light. The noise yanked her right back from the edge of sleep. Moments later, she heard the familiar sound of a scroll hitting the floor.

Author's Note

Tried to go for a one shot in one go. I have no idea what this thing is...

Takes place during Season 3, before Twilicorn...

Intermission

"Ugh..." Spike groaned. The unexpected arrival of the message managed to toss him out of his bed and left his limbs entangled in his blanket. "What the...? Are you kidding me?"

Upon hearing the noise, Twilight immediately rose from her mattress. Her eyes widened as she noticed her friend on the floor, not to mention the letter lying beside him.

"Sorry, Spike!" she said. Her hooves threw the covers off herself, and she quickly hopped out of her bed and hurried to her friend's side. "I, uh... I wasn't expecting a reply. Not so soon. Honest!"

The dragon grumbled under his breath as he shook himself free from his blanket. Twilight bit her lip as an odd pain struck her chest again. Her forehoof stretched out, helping her friend get to his feet.

"Great..." Spike muttered. He let go of Twilight's hoof, gave a long yawn, and turned to glare at his friend. "Now you're gonna have a 'nighttime pen pal' or something?" He rolled his eyes. "Better make Owlowiscious carry your letters then..."

"No, Spike. It's not like that at all," Twilight said and looked away. Her lips trembled. "I'm very sorry about this. I just... I wanted to write that letter and..."

"Never mind..." Spike said with a sigh. He glanced at the letter on the floor. "So, what's it say? What's so 'urgent' that it had to come now?"

"Well, let me see..." Twilight replied. Her horn lit up, and the scroll floated up from the floor and unraveled before her face. She cleared her throat and read it out loud.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Your letter has been received. I intend to respond as soon as possible, though at what length I cannot yet predict.

If it is convenient, please wait just a little longer.

Your friend,
Luna

Spike let out another groan. "Fantastic... There's gonna be another message?"

Twilight winced at her friend's complaints. "I guess so," she replied. The scroll levitated away from her face and landed on her desk. The pain in her chest flared again. "Sorry," she said in a near-whisper.

"Meh, don't sweat it..." Spike said. He smirked and gave Twilight's shoulder a friendly bump with his fist. "It's not like this is the first time you had me stay up late, right?"

Twilight just hung her head in response. Spike gave a small chuckle. He then paused for a moment and stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. "Hey. You look kinda... different," he added.

Twilight raised an eyebrow as she turned back to him. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Spike said. He scratched at his head, and his eyes kept scanning her up and down curiously. "It's like... you were mopey all day, but now you look... just sleepy, I guess. But you look better, is what I'm trying to say."

Twilight straightened a bit, and her face lit up. "Really?" she asked.

Spike nodded. "Yeah. Whatever was in that letter you had me send, I guess it helped."

"Let's hope so," Twilight muttered.

"That reminds me, what was in it anyway?"

Her friend gulped, and after a bit of hesitation, she proceeded to give Spike a short summary of her letter, or at least whatever she could recall about it. She was surprised to find just how little of a mark it left in her mind after it all poured out. It was akin to trying to remember what was in a trash bag that she had just thrown away. The relief of being rid of it was all that mattered to her at the time.

"Huh..." Spike said after she was done. "Heavy stuff. I think you better sit down with the others tomorrow." He rubbed his eyes and yawned again. "Or is it 'today' now? Anyway... got any more late night messages I gotta send right away?

"Uh..." Twilight's hooves shuffled awkwardly. "No, I don't think so, but—"

"Great," Spike said. "I'm going to bed then."

Twilight blinked. "Wait!" she blurted out. "Spike! Didn't you hear what the letter said? We need to stay awake until she replies."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "'We'?" he asked. "Don't you mean just you?"

"I..." Twilight's voice shook as she struggled to force the words out. "I don't want to... I'd rather not stay up alone. Not tonight."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes again. Grumbling under his breath, he trudged across the room and sat down on the edge of Twilight's bed. His friend gave a painful sigh as she walked over and sat down next to him. She smiled and placed a reassuring hoof on his shoulder, to which he replied with a huff and crossed his arms.

For a while, the two of them just sat there in silence. Though Spike did not complain much even later on, Twilight decided to fetch some leftover chocolate and give it to him anyway. It brightened his mood somewhat, but it was not enough for very long.

"It's been over an hour now, Twilight," Spike said between huge yawns. His eyelids could barely stay open now. "Let's go to bed."

"Come on, Spike," Twilight said, though she herself had almost no strength left at this point. "Just a little longer. Please?"

Spike chuckled and shook his head. He hopped off the bed and walked back toward his own. "She's Princess Luna, Twilight," he said. "I'm sure she has better common sense than to send another letter tonight, so—"

He was cut off by a strong grumbling in his stomach. Spike's eyes widened, and his hands flew up to his mouth as he doubled over. Moments later, a large plume of green fire erupted from his mouth with a loud belch. It coalesced into a scroll in mid-air, which dropped to the floor next to the dragon as he lay there, gasping for breath.

"I... stand corrected..." he whimpered.

Author's Note

I figured this was the easiest way to tell everyone: yes, there is going to be a reply. I'm working on it. Stay tuned. :raritywink:

This also serves to not make it look as though Luna can write a lengthy response in less than five minutes... :trixieshiftright:

The Night Responds

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Rest assured, your frequent apologies were not necessary. Your message had arrived during a fairly uneventful period within my schedule, so the timing caused no disturbance. Still, I commend your desire to be respectful.

Your other concern is also unnecessary. I am well aware of your relationship with my sister, and it is only right that you focus your time on communicating with her. The fact that, despite this, you would choose to seek my audience is most humbling, so I wish to thank you.

The content of your message, on the other hoof, did create quite a stir within my own thoughts. I will attempt to respond with all haste, but I am not certain the tale can be told in a reasonable amount of time.

I have pondered for many years, eons even, upon the kind of thoughts that trouble you now. But even my mind and my memories are vulnerable to the effects of time. There were so many failed attempts. So often have I decided to just give in and not bother any further, and whatever answers I found escaped my grasp once more. Only the events that struck the deepest into my soul could leave a mark that I can find even today, though I would prefer not to

During my banishment, time was my only possession. I would have traded it for anything else in the world, but all that I could spend it on were the things in my head. Time became fuel for my mind to burn while it plowed through the same fields of thought and memory over and over again. Were it not for the powerful will of the Nightmare, I doubt that I could have

When my sister and I were young, we could barely grasp the implications of how long our lives would be. We grew up among most admirable companions, all of us expecting to face whatever fate was ahead of us together. But it was not to last. We

Even the most ignorant ponies in the world live their lives according to a structure that has a "beginning" and an "end." It is impossible for me to describe what it feels like to have no end in sight. The first time I

I may end up as the one who must apologize after all. My thoughts are proving to be more difficult to organize than I expected. The moment I attempt to follow the path of one, it seems to wander off in the wrong direction. Memories burst forth, along with intense emotions, some of which I would rather not put on paper.

I could answer all of your questions at length, but my impression of your letter suggests that it would not be of much help to you. Perhaps another day, but right now we do not have enough time. If the warm sunlight of tomorrow veils your concerns once more, then your effort tonight will have come to naught.

Of course, I do not wish to delay your rest much longer either. Thus, I shall force myself to begin somewhere and follow through until the end. I also felt compelled to emulate your style of writing, for it had intrigued me. My own thoughts may prove to be just as educational if I were to show them without hiding anything.

You may recall how I commended your "Star Swirl the Bearded" costume during my stay in Ponyville. The quality of the tailoring made it quite obvious that you had a great desire for precision, and since few accurate images remain of the great scholar, I suspected you spent a great deal of time unearthing all the necessary source material. All this revealed to me that you are indeed an avid admirer of his work. However, there is one crucial detail that even you, not unlike many others, seem to have overlooked.

The costume caused much confusion among your companions, did it not? Perhaps it even amused some of those who wish to disrespect misunderstood the design, or were not aware of whom it depicted in the first place. Indeed, Star Swirl the Bearded is not nearly the most well-known historical figure in Equestria, even though a mere fraction of his life's work should deserve such a reward. However, while I sympathize with any frustration you may have over this, I must confess that our subjects are not solely to blame.

I suggest you gather what strength you have left and focus, Twilight Sparkle. What I am about to tell you has remained a secret for over a thousand years.

Among all of the unknowns related to him, perhaps the most baffling is the true purpose of Star Swirl's, shall we say, "humorous" appearance. One may rightfully wonder why one of the greatest magicians of ponykind would wear something that looks as though it belongs in a whimsical fairy tale. Indeed, many great minds across generations have stumbled upon this mystery while studying his life, after which they all made their own attempts to interpret it. Countless others have made lesser efforts and just conjured up all sorts of anecdotes. You have no doubt heard of many of them, perhaps even developed a few yourself.

Some believed it was an act of rebellion of sorts, either against the standards of his peers that he did not agree with, or to go against the expectations of ponies humbled by his reputation. Others thought it was no more than a matter of personal taste. Some imagined that the clothes were a part of an experiment, perhaps capable of assisting him in certain fields of magic. Another theory suggests that it was an elaborate riddle presented to challenge his students, a habit which we know he was quite fond of.

No approach contained enough evidence to stand above all others, but the effect speaks for itself. Even today, most ponies can only associate mere clothing and a beard with one of our greatest historical figures, if anything at all. To say that he had become a laughingstock may be an exaggeration, but the look itself and the added mystery have drained far too much attention away from his more worthy exploits. One may assume it is about time we could enlighten everypony once and for all.

The truth, however, is ironically trivial, and almost unworthy of mention. Star Swirl's most well-known attire was no more than an offspring of a sort of "fashion trend" at the time. His most frequently worn clothes were simple robes, not unlike the ones Clover the Clever is depicted in, as well as most other renowned scholars.

At the time, however, the upper classes among unicorns struggled to outdo each other in displays of wealth, and their methods even included blatant attire that employed whatever means necessary to attract attention. Some of the fools here still do it When Star Swirl witnessed that even some of his colleagues started following this trend, he apparently had a moment of weakness in the face of his own vanity and curiosity. Thus, he commissioned a tailor to create the design that you know so well today, including those obnoxious bells that Even compared to the fashion at the time, the design was excessive, to say the least.

Needless to say, his "experiment" did not last for long. He wore it for about a week at most, during which he even attempted to hold a lecture. It was the only time in his entire life that he was very nearly laughed out of the room. Still, as legend has it, he embraced the hilarity and went on with the lecture unfazed, though the robes were never seen again after he finished.

Despite its brief appearance, the image was so striking that it became the most iconic depiction of him during the ages to come. Time has a habit of eroding the memories of the past, however, and while the image remained clear, the anecdote that told its origin did not fare so well. In the end, my sister and I were the only ones who still knew the truth about this particular incident.

Countless times have the two of us considered clarifying the mystery for the public, even though we feared it would be disrespectful to the memory of Star Swirl. A far more important factor, however, was the effect of the mystery itself. For all the "comic relief" and futile speculation it inspired, the inspiration was at least still there. Many who would later go on to become great scholars themselves were inspired by Star Swirl the Bearded, and were it not for his strange clothes, some of these ponies would never have become curious enough to learn more about him, even if they were among those who just laughed at first.

And herein lies the lesson that must be learned. Star Swirl himself never wished to "prove a point" with this incident, but he did not lash out once the image became famous either. He made no effort to perpetuate nor squash it. He simply wished to explore. To teach. To inspire. If somepony wished to see a less dignified side of him, he saw no harm in it. And if it is our wish to sustain his memory, then why harm something that he himself did not? For all we know, if we were to reveal just how unremarkable the story of the image really is, then Star Swirl might blend in as "just another bland figure from the past."

This is what you must understand, Twilight. You are right to ask questions nopony ever thought of and seek answers that nopony else wants to. These are the ambitions that drive progress. But there are times when the things you seek are not in the right direction. There was nothing to learn in the truth itself that I revealed to you. Only the efforts that it could inspire had any real worth, but even those are only proof that nopony thought to question whether that "image" of Star Swirl was valid or not. Similarly, your own frustrations speak of answers you seek that may not be the ones you need.

I once made the mistake of taking such a search too far. For centuries I have sought to improve my design of my half of the daily cycle. I believed that beauty and precision was all I needed to gain more admirers of the night. Those concepts were soon replaced by magnitude and power. Never would I seek the help of others, least of all my own sister, out of fear that I may be met with the same indifference that you now imagine in your friends.

We both know where that kind of thinking had led me.

From what my sister had told me, you are pioneering a field of magic and philosophy that might one day lead to the greatest breakthrough in the history of ponykind. There are many more questions ahead of you, perhaps more than you can imagine, and the rate of answers most likely will not satisfy a mind as eager as your own. But this is not a challenge that you must face alone.

Your friends are not there to distract you from this effort. They are there to guide you back to the path when they fear that you have strayed from it. You must seek their help. Their company. Involve them in your work, but do not "convert" them. Do not simply try to force them onto the same train of thought as your own. That will not allow them to help you. It will only lead to wrong advice, or even push them away when you might need them most.

The mysteries of life are indeed not to be ignored. But not all of them are as complex as we would like them to be. Sometimes, one must take a step back and find a more simple answer. Sometimes, one should see the world through the eyes of somepony else. Somepony unburdened by a web of questions that seem to lead nowhere. What they lack in knowledge, they might make up for in clarity of mind.

Rest now, Twilight Sparkle. Your admiration of my work is deeply humbling, but it should not come at the price of your health. If my sister provides warmth to invigorate ponies during the day, then it is my duty to provide comfort during their time to rest. Please do not let my efforts go to waste. To my night, beauty is secondary.

Thank you again for writing to me. I hope I have been able to help.

Your grateful friend,
Luna

The purple glow around the scroll faded away as Twilight released her magical grip. Her hoof reached out to curl up the message, nudged it next to the one she received earlier, then doused the candle on the corner of the desk. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she had to hold back a chuckle when she noticed that over half of the large pillar of wax had burned away.

Her ear twitched as a faint snore rang out behind her. She turned around to glance at Spike, who was lying in his cot on his back, fast asleep. His blanket hung over the side of his bed, one of his claws still clutching it tightly.

"Can you show it to me once it's done?" his voice echoed in her head.

"Why don't I just read it out loud for you?" she had replied.

"Nah. I don't like cold readings. Go ahead, I'll wait up."

She tiptoed up to him, grabbed the blanket with her teeth, and gently draped it over the rest of his body.

"Sleep tight, Spike," she whispered.

The young dragon muttered something, squirmed about a bit, and went back to snoring peacefully. Twilight straightened herself again. She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh.

Once again, she felt empty. But it was not the same emptiness as before. It was not pleasant, nor at the very least a relief. She felt that desire for something to happen again. An odd tightness formed in her chest, as though the void in it tried to consume her, and her limbs fidgeted restlessly. Words upon words shaped themselves in her mind and echoed in her head, struggling to get out and reach an audience.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly throughout the half-lit room and eventually arrived at her desk. There was a bright patch at the center of it from a small dose of moonlight that streamed in through her window. It revealed an empty piece of parchment and a fresh container of ink that she had prepared just minutes ago.

The sight of them tugged on her limbs. It made her forget about the growing weight on her eyelids. Her legs pulled her toward her desk. She took a few steps forward. At the last moment, however, she changed direction. She moved to her window, pulled the curtains apart, and looked up at the sky outside.

A cloud-covered sky awaited her. The moon was all that managed to shine through. She heard the words of the princess in her head once more. Her head started to feel heavy, and her limbs could barely support her now.

Her hoof touched her faint reflection on the glass. She could see her friends' faces. She could hear them laughing. She could hear herself laughing. Spike was reading her letter out loud for them. He laughed as well.

Dear Princess Luna. Thank you very much for your response. I've decided I'm going to talk to my friends today, and...

Twilight shook her head and let out a small chuckle. Her horn lit up, and the parchment and ink both quickly disappeared in one of the drawers of the desk, followed by the messages Luna had sent her. With that done, she slowly crawled into her bed, pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes with a smile.

...and I might write about it to you. One exchange just won't be enough between us. For all I know, not even a thousand years' worth of letters would be enough. Either way, we have a lot more to learn from each other.

But for now, I think I just need to sleep on it.

Your friend, Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note

I changed my approach on this one. After all, nighttime is when Luna is up and about, so her writing needed to be far more coherent...