Twilight sat at her desk, eying the paper in front of her; a quill slightly hovering to the left encased in a purple aura. It was time for her next letter to the princess, and she just didn't know what to write. She hadn't learned much about friendship in the last week at all, unless... Yes! She thought, that would work perfectly! The quill started to rapidly scratch at the parchment, filling every line with Twilight's thoughts. She continued to write for the length of five minutes, coming to a stop when she barely had enough room to add her own signature.
She slowly rolled the parchment into a perfect cylinder, sealing it with a wax stamp and tying it off with a silky red ribbon. She opened her mouth to call for Spike, but not a single syllable was spoken. She looked back at the letter that was hovering above her, wondering if the letter was truly appropriate to send to the Princess. She fell back onto her haunches, resting at the edge of her loft looking down on the library.
It seemed as if she had sat there for hours, as she most likely had done; Twilight was often lost in thought. There was even times when spike became worried for her with how long she would just sit there. She just sat in place, her eyes staring out into nothingness, her abdomen extending and contracting at a steady pace, showing that she was still breathing. She had told Spike not to worry about her when she was in thought, and she assured him that she was okay every time that it happened. He had explicit instructions not to bother her for anything. And that rule he followed very well, often falling asleep watching her from his soft, warm bed. It was almost as if she was a statue, a statue that had been brought to life and still knew nothing but how to stand still.
The room was filled with a warm glow, originating from a small group of candles that Spike had lit in order to work in the late hours of the night. He was now in bed, and he had forgot to blow out the candles yet again. Twilight walked down the stairs to the main floor of the library, her hooves making a slight click with each step. It was late at night, at least midnight by now. She paced around the candles, staring at the wax as it dripped and slowly hardened on the exterior of the candlestick. The letter put itself back into her mind, a chill engulfing her body at the thought.
She looked towards the fireplace, which was stacked with wood and not yet lit that day. She was in need of a fire. The house seemed to chill very fast tonight, or maybe it was just her. Either way, she was going to light a fire tonight. Plus, for her, a fire always seemed to help her think and ease her thoughts on any predicaments that she was facing. She aimed her purple horn towards the fireplace, a small violet flame erupting from below the logs, slowly spreading itself to the others. It began to lose its purple glow as the fire started to take control of its own destiny, eating away at anything placed in the mouth of the flame.
The fire gave off an eerie orange glow at this time of night, flickering constantly. At times, Twilight had even thought that she had seen someone standing behind her, but it was just her shadow moving from place to place in the background.
It called her... for some reason it just called to her. She adjusted her sight to the loft where the letter was resting soundly on the ledge. She looked intently at it, expecting it to call to her in some way. She expected it to do something, but she didn't know what she had expected it to do. She thought back to what she had written in the letter as her “Friendship Report”. To her, it probably wasn't that big of a deal, only to been living for a mere fifteen years. But for Celestia, what was encased in that letter, may be the end of all of Equestria. Someone who hasn't had to deal with such an atrocity in thousands of years may not take it lightly, and Twilight didn't want to get banished to the moon as Luna had.
She glanced away from the letter staring back at the fire, burning the sight of the letter out of her pupils by the flickering light. Her coat had started to get uncomfortably warm, and she noticed that she was still sitting rather close to the fireplace. She smiled and shook her head trying to figure out how she could have forgotten to back away. She took a deep breath in, letting out an audible sigh. She looked back towards the letter once more, grabbing hold of it through her telekinesis. She hovered it in front of her face for a few moments, before giving it a slight toss into the fire.
She sat there and watched as the letter burst into flames and the was melted away into the ashes below. She closed the grate in front of the fireplace to keep the random ash from catching her house on fire, and then walked back up to her loft. She climbed into her bed, closing her eyes. She knew that was the right thing to do with that letter, it was a bad idea to even have wrote it in the first place.
She awoke the next morning, her mind clean and her body refreshed. She walked slowly over to the edge of the loft, stretching as she went. When she reached the edge, she saw Spike curiously digging in the fireplace at a piece of parchment. Her eyes went wide with fear as he picked it up and read it aloud.
“The Game. Hey! Twilight! What's the Game?” he asked her with a puzzled look on his face.
A/N: I'm not sure how this may turn out, this isn't exactly the normal type of story that I generally write. I did owe it to someone to try a happier story, so that's what I did.
