Reforming Spell

The first thing I remembered was the last of my memories washing away as I emerged from the pool. Then, I stared in rapt attention at the pony across from me, the pony that I was copying. It was a mint unicorn, young adult female, well-groomed, with a nervous look on her face. There was an invisible spark, and I realized that my reason to exist was to help her with some sort of magical project, which was going to be hard because I didn’t remember the fourth thing about magic.

The first thing is that it’s glowy. I knew a couple more things, too, like telekinesis and light. I lit my horn up to better illuminate the dim cavern, and could see a crumbling staircase off in the corner leading up into darkness, and a shimmering mirror pool beside me. “Magic?” I asked.

“I don’t suppose you’re the real Lyra,” the pony in front of me said, lighting her horn up as well.

“Am I supposed to be the real Lyra?” I asked.

“I could explain, but I’d rather just cast the spell,” she said, leaning forwards and letting our horns touch. Faint glimmers of understanding started to dawn in my mind, and they intensified as the other unicorn strained to put more power into her spell. My head swam as I tried to make sense of them. Suddenly, there was an epiphany, and everything fell into place.

She collapsed, exhausted.

My head ached sympathetically, since I remembered casting the spell on myself, and I’d really had to dig into my reserves to get off a spell that powerful. Normal memory spells were pretty easy – for me, I mean. They’re tricky, but a sufficiently talented foal could cast them. Twilight’s variant was still complicated, but also insanely unoptimized. It gathered up a hundred times as many memories as it needed, then used even more power to throw away the extras.

Also, it was pretty terrifying, since there was nothing in the spell that required the memory filter and the target of the spell to be the same. Yes, cast as written it would give somepony back their own memories (for the most part), but with a trivial alteration it would give anypony anypony else’s that they or the caster had ever met.

And it was only the second scariest spell that Twilight had cast on me – well, on her. “Are you going to do the Reforming Spell next? I thought you were supposed to do it first.”

She laughed. “No, I don’t think so. If you’re the real Lyra I don’t need to, and if you’re not I don’t care.”

“What would make me the real Lyra?”

“It’s pretty simple,” she replied. “The real Lyra was trapped in the pool. Is she still trapped? Did she see the gate activating in time to get to it ahead of the demon?”

My ears flattened. “Not exactly. I was discussing philosophy with the demon.”

“Huh. I expected more sex.”

“I was discussing philosophy with the demon while having sex, yes,” I admitted. “I thought the sex went without saying.”

“I didn’t know I was such a prude,” she said, frowning. “I can understand if I was Applejack or somepony that I didn’t want to embarrass, but you have to know that I wouldn’t mind you going into all the juicy details.”

“Obviously, I’m no more the real Lyra than you are,” I said. “Euurgh! I tried not to think about sex, and now all I can think about is sex! Make it stop!” So many memories of sex! With so many ponies! What was wrong with me?

“Remember your time in the Night Guard?” she suggested.

My stomach lurched, as I remembered the feeling of sinking a spear into a living creature. Why had I been fascinated with that kind of thing? What was wrong with me? “I’m going to be sick.”

“Do you want me to kill you?” she asked. “I’ve just got this itch to kill somepony, ever since Twilight cast that Reforming Spell, and you’re here, and obviously not feeling good about having my memories.”

“What?” I asked.

She levitated a thick canvas belt. “I could strangle you. It’d be nice and clean – hardly any blood at all!”

I backed away, towards the stairs. “No! I’m here to help you with magic! You were supposed to have me help you with magic!”

“Yeah… that was the frame of mind I was in when I summoned you. But now I want a murder victim. Come on… you know you want to help me. It’s your whole reason for existing!”

There was a twinge. She kind of had a point. But – no. Encouraging her worst tendencies was not helping! “You’re sick,” I said. “I’ll help you by casting a Reforming Spell.”

She laughed, and I continued to back off as she approached. “First of all, there’s no way that you could cast a Reforming Spell. We don’t have enough magic. Second…”

A belt wrapped around my throat from behind, and started to squeeze. I kicked and bucked, thrashing around wildly, and managed to break loose. “You’re insane!” I said, as I ran for the stairs.

“I’m not insane! You’re just, you know. Expendable. Fake.”

She wasn’t rushing, and when I got to the top of the stairs, I could see why – they were blocked by a giant boulder, far too large for a relatively weak unicorn like myself to lift. The only way in or out was to teleport.

“Please don’t kill me,” I said, curling up to guard my neck, and trying to look helpless and pitiful. It had worked on me before.

“Yeah…” she said, walking up the stairs and stopping near me. “Sorry. This time I am feeling it.”

There was a shove, and a brief falling sensation, and then so much pain as I hit the ground – pain, and terror, as I flashed back to the wedding, and the time I’d been tricked into jumping off a cliff. To the hours spent in agony, slowly dying. Not again. Not again!

Luckily, this time I’d managed to puncture my lungs when I shattered my ribcage, so I choked to death on my own blood pretty quickly. The other Lyra stared into my eyes as the world faded away, licking her lips eagerly.