Driven Snow knew that she was about to die, and that fact really, really irritated her; she supposed she ought to huff a few regrets about not fulfilling all the things on her checklist before her inevitable demise, but she was far more concerned with how badly she'd managed to mangle the supposedly idiot-proof teleport spell – if only her magical kindergarten teacher could see her now, she'd realise that idiots were more resourceful than she'd ever given them credit for – and with how quickly those sharp, pointy rocks at the bottom of the cliff were moving to meet her tiny, fragile body.
“Most entry-level unicorns,” Ms. Tejina had told Driven Snow, in that infuriatingly patient voice she deployed on a regular basis whenever her students were starting to get on her nerves and break-time was still ages away, not so long ago, “require around thirty seconds to a minute in order to reorient and gather the necessary power for a second jump. With training, you can gradually cut the time required until it becomes as easy as breathing.”
This bog-standard, pasty, blue-maned unicorn had simply been trying to move from her bedroom to the kitchen without being seen – her parents having grounded her for stealing her sister's dessert, though even they were mightily impressed with the telekinetic trickery she'd applied to finagle the fruit cup away in the first place – but she had miscalculated somewhere along the way and was now tumbling down the cliff running adjacent to her family's homestead.
Her last thoughts were not of herself; she simply offered a silent prayer to the Solar Sisters, bidding them to watch over her parents and sister after she was gone. They're good ponies, and I hope they don't mourn me too much. This whole ludicrous business was my own stupid fault, anyway. Driven Snow also briefly toyed with putting in a request for Ms. Tejina to receive some sort of hideously ironic punishment for not teaching her the teleport spell correctly, but that was probably being a mite harsh. Besides, the Solar Sisters were the epitome of good grace and compassion, and they weren't in the habit of smiting their subjects. More's the pity.
If I'm ever in charge around here, there will definitely be a sharp uptick in the number of smitings. Except, I'll never get to be in charge of anything at this rate. A rate of around thirty-two feet per second ...
With around four seconds until impact, Driven Snow wept; if only the laws of physics weren't immutable, she could probably figure out some clever scheme to slow her descent by another few moments and give herself the time she needed to teleport to safety. Unfortunately, Bending the Rules of Time and Space wasn't a course offered by the Canterlot School for Gifted Unicorns. Again, Driven Snow found this to be an almost unconscionable oversight on the part of those in charge, and resolved to say something … assuming that communication with the material plane was, somehow, possible from the spirit world.
I never even got my cutie mark, she thought rather grumpily a split-second before impact. Splitting that second up ever further, Driven Snow also had time to think that the fruit cup hadn't even been worth it, magical kindergarten was a stupid name, and Ms. Tejina ought to be really ashamed of herself for teaching foals how to teleport without considering the possibility that something like this would happen.
Okay, that's not being entirely fair. She did say only to use it over short distances, especially in the beginning, and to not let yourself get distracted. Thinking about those yummy cupcakes sitting on the windowsill were definitely a distraction.
I hope I don't feel this, Driven Snow baulked when the spear of rock was a hair's-breath away from impacting against her skull, I don't want to go to heaven with a headache. I'd be all cross and wouldn't enjoy it.
*
The familiar haze of light that accompanied teleportation faded, and all that was left was the heady scent of singed ozone wafting into the atmosphere, a consequence of the violent destruction of the surrounding air molecules when something forced its way into being in this manner. Driven Snow rather liked the smell, but at this moment she was so grateful to be alive that she was rather liking EVERYTHING. The ground, which she gratefully kissed despite the dirt; the big elm tree, which she embraced despite the splinters; the tall purple pony with the wings and a horn, which she regarded curiously.
“Hello,” said Driven Snow, waving a foreleg at the stranger. Her parents had strict rules when it came to strangers: be nice to them, they're just friends that you don't know yet. “Did you … were you the one who caught me?”
“I was, yes,” the purple pony replied, something that sounded like wry amusement in her voice. “May I ask how you came to be tumbling over the side of a cliff?”
“Botched teleportation.”
“Ah.”
“Um,” said Driven Snow before trailing off. “Thank you for the rescue. Obviously, I really appreciate not becoming wholly holey.”
“You're welcome.”
Again, there was a long moment of scrutinising and the unicorn took a deep breath. “Only the Solar Sisters are … I mean, only they have wings and horns, right? Are you related to them?”
The purple pony hesitated for a moment before answering. “I guess you could say that, in a manner of speaking.”
“What's your name?”
Again, a slight pause. “Twilight Sparkle.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her muzzle. “And you're Driven Snow, if I'm not mistaken? A rather special little unicorn.”
“Special?” Driven Snow laughed at that, shaking her head until her flowing blue mane covered her eyes. “I can't even perform a simple teleport spell without almost killing myself. Nah, my sister, Crescent, is the gifted one. She gets magic in a way that I don't. She's kind of an egghead.” Just the faintest trace of envy crept into her voice as she spoke of her sister.
Twilight looked askance. “That's not a very nice thing to say about anypony, but especially not friends or family.”
Driven Snow knew a reprimand when she heard it. “You sound just like Ms. Tejina. All she does when she's not working is hang out in a library.” The unicorn's tone of condecension made it clear what she thought about that.
“I work in a library,” Twilight Sparkle said, “well, I did until recently.”
The note of sadness in Twilight's voice made Driven Snow's ears perk up in interest. “Oh, what happened? Were you fired?”
Twilight laughed hollowly. “No, there was … well, it would take too long to explain, but the library was burned to the ground by somepony very mean. In fact, I should be there right now helping to rebuild it, but I had to get away for a bit and clear my head. Somehow, I ended up here.” This time, Twilight's laugh was genuine. “Another teleport gone wrong, you could say.”
“Are you from very far away?”
“Actually, no. I'm from Canterlot just like you. At least, I was.” Twilight Sparkle's muzzle creased. “Well, I will be.”
“You're confusing,” said Driven Snow, her eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “How are you related to the Solar Sisters, exactly?”
“I'm ...” Twilight seemed hard-pressed about exactly how much she should say to the filly. “I was once the personal student of Princess Celestia, now we're close friends.”
“But-”
Twilight Sparkle suddenly vanished in a burst of mulberry light. The look of surprise on her face in the instant before she disappeared fully led Driven Snow to believe that the teleportation was not of her own doing.
“-who is Princess Celestia?”
What a crazy day, Driven Snow thought as she made her way home, but she was determined to never forget the name Twilight Sparkle. Some odd feeling made her believe that their paths would cross again some day.