The Failed Spell

by silverspawn

Rating: teen
Tags: Rarity, Tragedy, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Romance
Length: 18938

A spell gone wrong teleports Twilight and Rarity outside the borders of the world.

A spell gone wrong teleports Twilight and Rarity outside the borders of the world. Here, amidst a wasteland of barren soil and neverending rain, there is neither food nor shelter to be found.

In the absence of former responsibilities, and with the looming prospect of death being closer than ever before, they begin to open up towards each other. There is no place for dignity or restraint when you have nothing left to lose.

But in the end, none of it matters. Their only hope for survival is to get back to the world before they starve.

Published 2015-09-19 02:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-23 02:51:18 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight spurted, trying but failing to stifle her laughter. “No, no, nothing like that. I totally respected his feelings. Uhm, where’s my cup?” She turned around, knocking said cup over. “Oupsie. AJ, care to refill?”

“Anytime, sugar.”

“Thanks.” Twilight took the cup as soon as it was filled. “Mh... this is so gooooood.”

“So, what’d you do, huh? Huh?”

“I just went to talk to him. I explained why I wasn’t a fan of how he kept spending time with-”

“Booooring,” Rainbow Dash interrupted her. “Yeesh, Twilight. Do even your truth or dare stories end with you talking things out with somepony?”

“Sush, Dashie. I’m sure the interesting part is about to come. So what’d he say?”

“Said he loved her and me in a different way. Y’know, the responsible stuff. Big brother talk.”

“And you accepted it?”

“Nah.” Twilight laughed. “You have no idea how I worked back then. Sharing my brother was totally out of question. No, I said I was fine, but then I went outside and caught... uh, what’re they called again? The tiny little insect things?”

“Bugs?” Pinkie suggested.

“Ants?” That was Applejack.

“Ants,” Twilight said. “Caught lots of them. Took quite a while, actually. Then I sneaked up to the place they met. And floated them under her dress. One by one.”

“Ewwww. Gross gross gross!” Rarity threw her a disbelieving look, while the others burst out laughing. “How in Celestia’s name did you even manage to do that without getting caught? How didn’t she notice it?”

“Cloaking spell. And... she did notice, believe me. After the first few. But she didn’t want to make a scene, so I slid in some more... and some more. Then I ran.” Twilight shook her head, giggling. “Honestly, looking back, I’m kinda surprised it worked, too.”

“A Cloaking spell? How old were you, seven?”

“Six.” Twilight grinned, sticking out her tongue. “One of the benefits of being a magical genius, y’know?”

“Hah! Magical genius, huh? I knew you weren’t all humble as you usually pretend-”

“Hey, that doesn’t count!” Twilight protested. “You can’t nail me on something I’m saying in my current-”

But Rainbow didn’t even pause, completely rolling over her. “Do you guys know what else she can do with her magic? I visited the library the other day-”

“Rainboooooooooow!”

“Was that a secret?” Rainbow turned around, facing Twilight with what, as far as she could tell, might have been genuine concern.

“Uhh...” Twilight giggled into her cup. “No, not really.”

“She has a total drugging spell! It’s like being drunk, only it’s even cooler. Totally rad! And I always thought her magic could only do boring stuff-”

“A spell to make you all funny inside?” Pinkie pouted. “Aww, why didn’t you invite me?”

“It was a spontaneous idea,” Twilight answered bashfully, feeling legitimately flattered upon the recognition it was getting her. “Rainbow has had a lot on her mind, and I knew it’s really relaxing, so I offered it. It’s like a calmer version of being drunk."

“I’d like to try that,” Fluttershy said, to the surprise of everypony else. She frowned. “What? Come on, guys. You know I don’t dislike alcohol, so what’s the difference? I, uhm... I like how it gets me over my shyness... and relaxing sounds... n-nice...”

“Don’t dare to apologize, darling.” Rarity cast everyone else a dismissive look. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to try-”

“Yeah.” Twilight interrupted her, blinking several times to sharpen her vision. “Except Fluttershy is already drunk-”

“Right, so how do they mix?” That was Rainbow Dash.

“I, uh...” Twilight squinted. “... ... ... ah, I don’t know. That’s too complicated to think about... right now.”

“Well, let’s try it then!” Pinkie Pie. “Do you think you can still do the spell?”

“Of... pfff... course.” Twilight stood up from where they’d been sitting and/or lying on the library floor. “I, uh...” She made a few shaky steps, trying not to lose her balance. “... at least I think so.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure ‘bout that bein’ such a good idea. We dun want ya messin’ with none of our minds while you're not clear in yer head.”

“Yeah... that’s probably a good idea. But that reminds me...” She reeled around, making a wiggly line for a secret drawer in the library wall. “Look what I got since two days ago.” She produced a small box out of the drawer, opening it for everypony to see. “Isn’t that awesome?”

“Woah.” Rainbow was hovering beside her, still much better on wing than Twilight was on hoof. “Are these...”

“Yup.” Twilight gave a proud smirk.

“The princess gave them to you?” Rarity.

“Yeah. She said that it’s safer if I have them here, in case of an emergency.”

“Do you think we are allowed to put them on?”

“Don’t see why not.” Twilight lifted the diamond shaped gem out of the box, giving it to the fashionista. “Anypony else?”

“That’s so rad.” Rainbow leaned down, snatching hers out of the box. “Awww yeah.”

“Oh. Oh. I want it too!”

“We’re doin’ anything with ‘em?”

“I don’t think so,” Twilight answered while floating two more necklaces to Pinkie and AJ. “Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy nodded, bowing her head to allow Twilight to put it around her neck.

“What ‘bout you, sugar?”

“I don’t think I should.” Twilight closed the box with only the tiara left, putting it onto a table. “Doing magic with my element put on could be dangerous.” She left out that, strictly speaking, she wasn’t supposed to do anything with the elements period, least of all when she was drunk.

“Alright.” Rainbow grinned, poking the blaze around her neck. “Now’s time to drug Fluttershy.”

Twilight giggled. “Why not. Fluttershy? You still want to try?”

“Yes.” Fluttershy bore a blush on her face, but also a smile. “Uhm, it is not dangerous, is it?”

“Nah. At worst I’ll give you an overdose. But even that couldn’t hurt you. Ready?”

AJ, Rarity, and Pinkie all got up and walked closer to watch, with Rarity standing directly beside her. Rainbow was still hovering. Applejack made a sound as if she wanted to protest, but then she shrugged it off.

Fluttershy took a gulp, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

Twilight called upon her magic, her horn lighting up as usual, but something was wrong. The energy stream seemed to be pulled by several anchors outside of her control... five if she wasn’t mistaken. It would probably be best to ask the others to take off their elements before she continued.

Hesitantly, she gave her magic a small push, just aimless energy without specifying a spell. To her surprise, the tugging immediately strengthened, to a point where keeping the stream at bay was problematic. With a gulp, she attempted to release it, but she couldn’t. Finally realizing the sincerity of the situation, she drew it back with all her might, the spilled energy slow to respond to her grasp, like a tapestry of rubber. She could feel them snapping, the connections she hadn’t even realized it had made with the elements, one after the next. Pinkie, Fluttershy... Applejack... ... ... and then, just barely, Rainbow Dash.

Panicking, Twilight gathered energy as fast as she could, intending to cast an explosion that would probably destroy most of the library, but also disrupt the magical flow.

It was one more mistake. She had too little time to control the flow of the energy she had summoned. It was pulled out of her like air was pulled into lungs, dispersing and forming patterns at random. Desperately, she studied them as fast as she could, recognizing what they would lead to and changing them into the next best thing. Soon, they were past the architectural stage, and Twilight could no longer interfere. She barely had time to realize what was to come, before she felt another tug... this one not on the magical plane... pulling her far, far away...

Rain.

Rain pouring down from above.

A landscape of brown nothingness. No more than ten feet sight in any direction.

No hills, no life, just flat soil.

And an involuntary companion, still wearing her pendant around her neck.

Chapter 2

“No. Nonononononono.” Twilight eyes watered, her bleary mind all too quick to catch up with what was happening. “Nononononono. I messed up. I messed up. Celestia be with me. I botched everything.”

“At ease, Twilight.” Rarity took a step closer, her eyes squinted, visibly suppressing the effect of the consumed alcohol. “Surely there’s a way to fix this.”

“There’s not.” Twilight turned her head towards her friend, whose mane was quickly being ruined by the falling water. “You don’t... don’t understand. We could be anywhere. Literally anywhere. Outside of Equestria. Half a world apart.” Sobbing uncontrollably, she slowly collapsed onto the ground. “I messed up. I had all... all... Celestia has taught me everything I needed to know to avoid this. I knew with which kinds of magic you can safely mess around with, and with which you can't. It’s all my fault.”

The landscape was blurred, her mind dizzy, the moment surreal. Desperately, she raised a front limb, hitting the ground with as much strength as she could muster up, welcoming the pain it caused her. Then she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, as if hiding from world for a while was all that was necessary to revert her spell. “A dream. I need to... I can’t... I-I-I... this can’t be happening. It can’t. It just can’t.”

The percussion of rain onto the earth was the only sound, a constant staccato among her unknown surroundings. After a while, Twilight could feel something touching her shoulder, short-lived at first, then a continuous poking. Before she knew it, she had surrendered herself into Rarity’s embrace, incapable of doing anything besides crying.

“I did this to you,” she said, the words hurting herself more than anything she had said before. “A part of me has always been afraid that I would someday mess up a spell and get myself killed, but I... I did it to you. I dragged you with me.” She big her lip, feeling miserable beyond depiction. For a moment, she wanted to scream, to shout out as loud as she could, but then it passed, and instead she did nothing.

Neither of them said anything, while the rain kept pouring down above their heads, until at last, Rarity pushed her away at hoof’s length.

“Twilight? I am cold. If we don’t want to freeze to death, we need to do something.”

“Right.” Twilight tried to stop herself from crying, but it was no use, so she just nodded and lit her horn, creating a purple dome to shield them from the rain. “I can... I could do something to warm us, but I shouldn’t. It takes too much strength. If we want to survive, we need to be efficient.”

“Very well.” Rarity cast a look around, but there was nothing to be seen beyond earth and rain. “You can not teleport us back? Is it too far?”

“It’s not about distance,” Twilight said numbly, a heavy shiver running over her body. “Teleportation always pulls, you can only teleport by preparing it on your destination. I didn’t prepare it before we left, so I don’t have an anchor.”

“Can you tell how far we traveled, then?”

“Only the direction.” Another spell, a small tug, and she turned around and a little to her right. “It’s this way.”

“I take it we have to walk?”

Twilight nodded, then remembered that Rarity might not be able to see her. “Yes.” She bit her lip, her body wincing in another series of sobs. “I will do everything I can to get you home, Rarity. Everything you want me to. But there is no guarantee. We could die before we reach the first source of food.”

“I guessed as much, yes.” There was no anger in Rarity’s voice. “Come on then.”

As an answer, Twilight began to trot forward, the simple task of walking in a straight line taking most of her effort. Her intoxication was stupid, a poor joke of destiny, and it was harmful. She tried to bring her mind on common ground, to find back to her usual analytical mind, but all she managed was for another series of sobs to escape her lips, no matter how hard so sought to keep them away. She did not stop in her walk and Rarity said nothing, perhaps caught up in trying to fight her own drunkenness, or perhaps resisting to urge to lash out at the pony next to her.

The landscape didn’t forgo the slightest change as the minutes crept by, the reality sinking in deeper with every moment, and it stayed the same as they slowly, slowly bled into the first hour. Every once in a while, Twilight would redo the spell, confirming that they were indeed still going in the right direction.

“We need to make a few decisions,” she said at last, when her mind had finally snapped back far enough for her to draw these conclusions. “I know a spell that would cause us to last longer without food. Or, at least I know the theory behind it. If successful, it might buy us a few days... or more. But we’d live on borrowed strength. As soon as we get something to eat, we will have to pay it back in food and sleep, and it’s also said to cause strong nausea and sometimes pain. Even if we end up finding food so soon that... you know, it would have been enough anyway, the spell will still make us pay.” She paused, leaving the words hanging in the air. “The sooner I cast it, the more time it will buy,” she added quietly.

“Well...” Rarity’s voice was flat, weary. “That hardly seems to be a choice, I’d say.”

“No...” Twilight cast her friend a look. “... no, I guess it’s not. I’ll cast it as soon as I can think straight again. Rarity...” She made a pause. “What do you know about the world we live in? The whole world?”

At first, Twilight didn’t get an answer. Walking ahead, Twilight began to wonder if Rarity had finally decided to stop talking to her. A lump formed in her throat when she thought about how grim this place would be if she could no longer call her a friend. Talking would be the only thing possible to distract them from their hideous situations.

But when she spoke, her voice sounded just like before, suggesting that she had merely been thinking, and nothing more.

“I know there are other lands around Equestria. And the world is an infinite plane, is it not?”

“I don’t know if it’s infinite,” Twilight said, “but it goes on in every direction. Above us are the stars. Below us seems to be endless amounts of soil. And around us...” She took a short pause, mulling the words over in her head. “Equestria is the center point of all populated land. Even though it makes up only about a ninth of the overall area and a quarter of the population, it is virtually the heart of everything. There's always been harmony and order in Equestria, whereas the surrounding lands... there is often turmoil, unrest, political disputes, sometimes there is war. Celestia once told me that Equestria is like a legend to many, a mythical land of eternal peace that's said to exist, but you're not sure if you really believe it."

Having almost forgotten where they were, Twilight's mind suddenly snapped back into consciousness. She bit her lip, focusing for a moment on the taste of blood that resulted. It wasn’t like her to get so absorbed into a simple geography lesson, and being made aware of her current situation one more time was not something she welcomed. The alcohol was still clouding parts of her mind, narrowing her focus.

“Ponies are creatures who love their homeland, most earth ponies, least pegasi. Many don’t want to leave their homes for the promise of a distant land that might not even exist, but others still do, especially the ones who live close to the border. And so, Equestria is slowly expanding in both population and size, and while it grows, the rest of the world grows with it. It has always been that way, very slowly, but steadily. Imagine... imagine a drop of water hitting a pond. Equestria is an inner circle, the populated lands are an outer circle... and the pond would be the plane.” She gulped, lowering her eyes when she finally reached the unpleasant part of her metaphor. “But the parts of the pond that haven’t yet been reached are completely flat. It’s said to be a neverending stretch of brown land, with nothing there, no hills, no life... and no food. I believe that’s where we are.”

“But then...” Rarity spoke up, and for the first time, Twilight thought to hear fear in her voice. “If the world is infinite, do we even have a real chance of being near the borders? Isn’t it much more likely that we’re thousands of miles away?”

“Not necessarily. The spell didn’t just put us in a random position in... teleportation without an anchor can bridge large distances, but distance is still a factor. It’s like... like a fish who swims into a random direction from the center of the pond. At some point, he will become tired, but there is no telling how long that will take. We could be too far away to reach the borders before we starve. Or... we could not even be outside. There are probably stretches of land that look like this, outside of Equestria but surrounded by population.” She sighed, a sad, weary sound. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” That was all. No frustration in her voice, no cynicism, no reproach. “I suppose this means there is no point in splitting up either, to find food or shelter?”

“At least not yet... no. Actually...” Twilight looked down while she spoke, almost as if she found herself unworthy of saying this. “We should walk as close as possible. Over half of our energy consumed is used to warm ourselves, barring magic. The closer we are, the less of it will go to waste, and the longer we’ll be able to go on without food. It’s not a huge factor, but... it does matter.”

Rarity didn’t answer, but only a moment later she stepped closer, just like Twilight had suggested. She could feel the warmth on her side, and now that she was this close, she could even see her figure clearly. Tightening the purple dome that still hovered above them, Twilight felt another wave of tears dwelling up inside her, but she swallowed it down, determined not to let Rarity see it this time. She had no right to cry.

And then Rarity leaned her head to the left, gently nuzzling Twilight’s shoulder. It was a brief gesture, only lasting a few seconds, but Twilight thought she had to die of shame within its every moment.

Chapter 4

“How are you feeling?”

It was half an hour into the day. Twilight’s legs were still hurting, but less than on the day before. The hunger was the worst part now, it was growing faster than she had hoped.

“Not too well, I’m afraid.” Rarity gave a sigh. “Hunger, my hooves hurt, and I’ve got this terrible headache. And you, dear?”

“Better. Hungry, but better.”

“I’m glad.” Rarity gave her a smile. They were walking so close now that Twilight could see her face clearly, despite the ever-grim weather. “You are sure that your spell is working properly?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, neglecting to add any explanation as to why. “It doesn’t seem to prevent the early stages of hunger, but we will be able to go on like this for a while. Maybe the hunger stops getting worse at some point, or maybe it does get worse but doesn’t eat at our strength. I don’t know. I’ve never used it before.”

At that, a silence followed. It often went like this; one of them would say something, and depending on how the other one was feeling, it would either grow into a conversation or die down. How easy this came to her was but a cruel joke, as if it had taken the spell for her to forget her constraints.

And then, she heard something. It hit her like a blaze, coming out of nowhere. Immediately frozen still, she cursed the ever-falling rain that made it impossible to determine its source. Reaching out with her senses, she cast a web as wide as she could, hoping to catch whatever it was before it moved too far away.

Her first reaction was one of disappointment, shortly followed by excitement when the subject entered the covered area. Not wasting a moment, Twilight galloped towards it, to a point from which she judged their respective courses to cross. As soon as she came close enough, she mercilessly caught it in her telekinesis, pulling it close.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured as Rarity caught up with her. Though only outside the range of the dome for a few seconds, her mane was already letting off drops of water, and she was no doubt cold.

“Don’t be... silly.” Rarity took a few panting breaths. “A﻿ crow?”

Twilight nodded. “I... I didn't know what it was at first, but it was moving, so I went after it as fast as I could. When... I saw what it was, I..." Her voice trailed off. At Rarity’s raised eyebrow, she bit her lip, swallowing uncomfortably.

“I promised you I’d do everything to get you home,” she whispered. “Everything, no matter what it is, as long as you want me to. I could make something like a fire... even here.”

Rarity gave her a long look, and Twilight could see a shadow hushing over her face. The black bird flapped its wings in an effortless attempt to get out of Twilight’s grip, while the seconds slowly passed.

“I think I’d rather die.”

Twilight closed her eyes, sighing in relief.

“It wouldn’t have been my decision.” She released the ﻿crow, staring after it as it flew away. “But I’m glad you made it.”

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Twilight could feel Rarity shivering beside her, and she stepped even closer, driven by the desire to share what little warmth she had to offer.

“Now...” Rarity’s voice was weak, but hopeful. “If there’s a ﻿crow, we can’t be that far away from the world, can we?”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The news had not quite gotten through to her yet, overshadowed by the decision Rarity had been forced to made, but somewhere inside her, the seed of hope had been sown. “I did think we were likely to die before – now I’d say we’re more likely to make it.”

“But why would a ﻿crow ever fly out here?”

Twilight shook her head. “I have no idea. It’s still possible that I was wrong all along and we aren’t outside the world after all. I don’t know of a stretch of land this large without anything there, but I also just... I don’t know much about the outside world.”

“What if... forgive me if this is a silly thought, but what if we aren’t... really moving? What if we are trapped in some kind of endless maze? Something magical? Something... Discord would do?”

“I did cast a spell to verify if we’re covering distance.” Twilight shrugged helplessly. “I can’t guarantee you that I’m not being fooled, but that’s all I can do. It... does seem unlikely, all things considered.”

“Hm...” Twilight could see Rarity closing her eyes, letting several seconds pass before she continued. “Very well. I suppose all we can do is keep moving, then?”

“Yeah.” A spark, and Twilight nodded to her right. “This way.”

The crow didn’t remain an isolated incident for long. Only a few minutes after its release, Twilight could see a second bird, drawing a circle above their heads, and letting out a cry that send a shiver down her spine. Soon after, the third one appeared, and before long, a small swarm of them was flying above their heads. Twilight said nothing to it, and neither did Rarity. They knew which direction would lead them to the center of the world, and the world was circular. If the crows did in fact indicate that the border was close, then they’d soon be there, and if not, then they wouldn’t. Studying or following them was useless.

This, of course, did not stop her mind from wandering. Why ﻿crows? Where did they come from? What were they doing here?

Where did they come from?

There could not be life outside the outmost circle of the pond. That was impossible. They must have come from land; if not populated by society, then at least one with a functioning fauna. How far could a crow fly without food?

And just what were they doing here? Why would a crow fly where there was nothing but rain? If they had come for their meat, assuming they had some way of knowing about them from afar, then it was a futile endeavor. Even without food, they’d both be able to outlive each and every one of them, thanks to her spell. They had not attacked them either, nor tried to hinder them in any way.

And it was dangerous for them, too. Had she been alone...

Twilight cast her look upwards. There were fewer of them now, she only counted five. They weren’t flying in perfect circles, instead drawing what seemed to be arbitrary forms above their heads. One ﻿crow took a dive over them with a feeble cry, only to halt at the edge of her vision, flattering in mid air. Then, instead of coming back, it turned around to its left and flew off into the rain.

What were they made of?

This simple question suddenly hit her, unexpected, but leaving behind a sinister feeling. Were they really crows? Sentient, living animals? Hesitating for a while, she eventually lit her horn, catching one of the birds in her grasp.

For a moment, she held her breath, expecting some kind of resistance, but the remaining ones didn't pay mind to the imprisonment of hteir sister. Twilight gulped. Beside her, Rarity paused, watching the ﻿crow with a questioning look.

“I want to test something,” Twilight said quietly. Moving past her internal constraints, she called upon her magic, forming the energy into a spell she had rarely used before. Something cut into her heart as she tightened her grip around the bird, bundling her energy like a needle. Choosing a spot on its waist which she judged to be the least debilitating, she carefully pierced into its skin.

The ﻿crow answered with a painful cry, and somehow, Twilight felt the overwhelming desire to let it go, but she resisted. Instead, she watched the wound she had inflicted with bated breath. It was a miniature thing, too small to be more than a little inconvenience, but still deep enough to bleed.

Yet, for a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a single drop of blood emerged. Expecting it to stick to the crow’s skin, Twilight was about to absorb it with another spell, but there was no need. The drop loosened itself, but rather than falling onto the ground, it landed on Rarity’s outstretched limb.

With an emotionless expression, Rarity lifted her hoof up to show the spot to Twilight, who felt the ﻿crow slipping out of her grasp at the sight. Previously, through her lenses of her magic, she had hoped to imagine it, but now there was no doubt. The blood was as black as ink.

Chapter 5

“Do you still think all of this is... natural?”

Twilight nodded. They had gone back to walking; there was no point in doing anything else.

“I’m less sure than I was before, but... yes. If I...” She made a pause. “I’ve been basing all of what we talked about on the little thing that Celestia told me. But that was years ago, I was younger back then, and Celestia had no reason to believe that it would ever matter. I don't think she lied to me, but she might have left out things. Or maybe she just doesn’t know them. Or maybe I don’t remember them right.”

Above them, three crows were still circling, their occasional cry gradually blending in with the falling of rain as an indecipherable wall of background noise.

“If we’re outside of the world, who knows what is or isn’t here. The crows and the rain... I can’t explain either of them, but do you really think that means that it can’t be there?” She sighed. “Probably not.”

“I just...” Twilight turned her head in time to see Rarity biting her lip. “Please forgive me for saying this, because I know it is a silly thought. One that has no impact on our situation at all. But... I feel as though...”

She paused, giving a sigh so deep that all Twilight wanted to do was to halt and take her into her arms.

“It’s simply... imagine things had been a little bit different. Imagine we had gotten here, but without the rain, and without these uncanny birds. And imagine we’d made it home, and told our friends everything. I couldn’t stop thinking about this ever since the spell. But now...

“I cannot imagine reaching home and telling everyone of our most recent encounters. Because they don’t seem to fit into life as we know it. I feel as though... as though the only solution is for us not to reach home, then nopony will be able to question reality. Then...” Rarity's voice diminished, and Twilight had to pay close attention to hear the rest. “... it does not matter what we see now. It does not matter if it is even possible.”

Twilight grimaced. There was something inside her that refused to think about what Rarity had said.

“We will make it home,” she answered instead, and to her own surprise, her voice was firm. Only after she had spoken the words did she realize that she really believed in them. “No crow can last as long without food as we can,” she affirmed herself. “They may have black blood, but every living creature needs to eat. Unless they all flew out here to die, there must be a source of food nearby. Actually, even if they flew out here to die, there must still be source of food close enough for us to reach. There can’t not be one.”

“Should we not follow a crow, then?”

“I...” Twilight paused. “The... world is circular...”

“Yes, Twilight, but do you not need to rethink what you believed about this place? You said so yourself. And I am not talking about the border, I am talking about the presence of... other things. What if there is a source of food, but it is not in the direction we are heading towards? Be that because what you thought was false, or because we are still inside the world after all.”

Twilight halted in her walk, thinking about it. But there was no complicated answer or explanation.

Rarity was right.

She cast a look upwards. Two crows were left, one flying in an unknown pattern above their heads, the other one hovering.

What if they disappeared now, never returned, and Rarity would eventually die because she hadn’t acted fast enough?

Twilight bit her lip. Lighting her horn, she attempted to cast something more complex than what she would usually dare without preparation, but she found herself driven by a cold and definite precision, and it took her only a few seconds to execute her task to success.

“Tracking spell?”

Twilight nodded. “I’ll know how far it is away and which direction it’s in for over a week. Do you want to follow it now, or see where it flies to first?

The latter seemed to be the more reasonable course of action, and it also was what she expected Rarity to choose...

“Let us follow it now.”

“Really?”

“You said it yourself. There has to be food nearby, or if not nearby, then at least close enough for us to reach it. If we do continue forward, what are the chances for us to get home? Quite good, I would presume, since we are likely close to the border already. But do you really want to gamble our lives on it? – Now, if we follow the crow, it may lead us farther away from the border, but it has to lead us to food. I’d rather spend another week here than risk our lives just to get home faster.”

Twilight felt adoration dwelling up inside her. She may have been providing magical assistance that ate on her strength, but it wasn’t much, and Rarity wasn’t any more athletic than her. She must have felt almost as miserable as Twilight did, and yet...

“There is one problem, though.” It was not an attempt to persuade Rarity, but a reasonable objection, no more, no less. “Crows are omnivores. Whatever we find...”

The fashionista said nothing. For over a minute, they simply stood there, while the rain was pouring down around them.

A sigh, and Rarity hung her head.

“Let us continue.”

Chapter 6

Had she really been feeling better earlier today?

It was hard to imagine, and it seemed to lay far, far back. The crows were all gone, and hoof in hoof with their departure, Twilight's condition had gotten worse, as if the birds had somehow carried a part of the burden for her. Now, every step was a nightmare, sending a throbbing wave of pain from the tip of her hoof through her entire leg. Yesterday, a part of her may have wondered why was even this bad; despite the uncomfortable surface and the fact that she was not equipped for walking, it had still only been three days. But today, it didn’t matter. The why was powerless, a pointless thing to ask.

Where were the blissful moments of unconsciousness that had guided her throughout the past day? How could she have dared whining about them feeling too short, how could she not have realized what a wonderful gift they were nonetheless? Where were the times when the pain had merely been something annoying, something which was only even a problem due to its persistency?

Time was stretching out, and every moment seemed ephemeral. The past lay beneath a hazy cloud of pale red fog, a curtain of pain. For all she could tell, she was close to losing her mind... so why was it that she wasn’t fantasizing? Why was she not imagining a wide meadow of flowers, an expanse of blissful green beauty?

Why wasn’t she imagining mountains lining up under the horizon, reaching high into the air, yet all over covered by grass and moss? Why wasn’t she seeing white clouds hovering above, not unlike ships sailing across the horizon? A giant orb hovering above it all, its surface made of different shades of green, and a light blue shade on every point where its outline bled into the air, perhaps covered by white if a cloud happened to be in front...

What was it doing there? It was this question which she should devote her attention to. What was keeping it in the air? Twilight liked to imagine that it was large, huge, massive, big enough to fill an entire field of vision when standing below it. She had only looked at it from far away, not being aware of its true scope, the same way the sun seemed tiny when looked at it from the world.

Was the orb as big as the sun? No, that was not enough, it had to be even larger. But it could not hold anything, even if it was unaffected by gravity, it could not make other things stick...

Twilight shook her head. This was not working. The imagination had not served to keep out the pain, nor the hunger, nor her exhaustion. It had been useless, futile... and yet, wasn’t it there, the orb, hovering in the distance, not far off were they were heading?

She redid the direction spell, and miraculously, it changed their course so that the orb was now directly in front.

And it was something she had to reach...

Pain.

A concept she now understood entirely.

Her mind had not degenerated far enough for her to become oblivious to what the orb symbolized. She was treading the narrow line between sanity and madness, and she had reached a point wherein her imagination was painting objects onto her field of vision that her mind could still analyze as such, even if they looked indistinguishable to her naked eye.

The orb was the absence of pain, and it lay ahead because that’s what she hoped to reach, but she couldn’t get closer.

But did pain have to be a bad thing? Was it not, unlike nausea, only perceived as bad if it was too much, if it became overwhelming? Was it not simply a strengthened version of the same thing she felt when getting in touch with any object?

And if it was not inherently bad, was it not possible for her to learn not to suffer from it? Rather than attempting to shut it out, would the solution not be to embrace it, to bend herself rather than her perceptions, to the point that she could endure, maybe even enjoy it?

No.

It did not matter why it was harmful. It did not matter if it was only bad because there was too much of it. It was there, and it caused her to suffer, and there was no way to change it just by altering her perception.

And she had to escape.

Twilight was at a point where she would be willing to do anything, everything, to get rid of the pain.

So why was there nothing? She was one of the most powerful magicians in existence, was there nothing she could do?

She knew that there were spells against pain, but she had never learned them. She did not spend any more time dwelling on this fact, as it would not help her in reaching her goal. If she did not know a spell, she had to improvise. She was powerful enough to do it, and despite the huge risks that could result in her immediate death, it would still be worth it. Already, her mind had begun to work out the best way to go about it...

But she stopped. She had been wrong in thinking that she would do anything to escape the pain. She would not. Rarity was here with her, and it was her responsibility to get her home. Risking her own life meant risking Rarity’s, and that was a risk she simply was not allowed to take, not as long as it wasn’t necessary.

Twilight squeezed her eyes, and then she opened them. The green orb and the fog in front of her eyes disappeared, and her vision sharpened. Rarity was still walking beside her, and the pain that each step send through her body was something she would have to endure, it was as simple as that. Lifting her head, she let out a breath full of unspoken feelings and misery, and she continued to press forward.

Determinism was no cure to pain, and neither was a lack of options. Her fever dream, not self-inflicted, but tolerated and unfought, was over, failing its promise of mitigation. Her moment of weakness was behind her, the decision had been made, the right route had been chosen. The test had been passed, and she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that even her future self would never betray her, and stick to her decision.

But the pain was still there.

Her thoughts, her internal conflict, her temporary resistance, her decisions, her discoveries, none of it helped. They could not ease the pain, because the pain was not connected to them, an external thing, something she could only observe, but never change.

The thought right now did not help, and she might aswell not have it. There was no reason to think, to distract, to explore, to explain, to observe.

There was no reason to do anything except walking.

And if nothing mattered, then why did she bother?

Should she simply do the easiest thing? But what was the easiest thing? Was the easiest thing to mull over her situation, again and again, just for her mind to be occupied? Trying to think about something nice would be a struggle, unnecessary, futile. She had no interest in doing it, no reason to bother. She would not bother.

But it was not the easiest thing. The easiest thing would be to stop thinking entirely... let it all end...

She redid the direction spell and adjusted her course. She didn't need to think to walk ahead.

She did not know how long it had been, but at some point, it became too much. She had decided to be reasonable, not to risk her life, but she had not decided to stay strong. And so she stopped walking, and then she screamed, and somehow, that really did seem to take a tiny bit of the pain away. And so she did it again. Pulling as much air into her lungs as she could, she closed her eyes and screamed, loud, loud, into the air. Then she hung her head, looked at Rarity, and felt tears dwelling up inside her.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I hope I didn’t...”

She left the sentence unfinished, and after a few moments, she closed her eyes again.

“I can’t go further, Rarity. I’m sorry.”

It did not take long, and Twilight could feel the warm touch of hooves, the promise of rest, of shelter. She drowned herself in Rarity’s embrace, bathing in the heavenly alleviation of pain and exhaustion, weeping silently into the white fur.

“Rarity... tell me you’re not feeling as bad as I am. Please, tell me it’s only gotten this bad for one of us.”

“I’m better than earlier today,” Rarity answered, and an enormous weight was taken off Twilight’s heart, so much that it almost brought a smile to her lips. “I’m sorry that it’s gotten so much worse for you, dear. I would love to take some of it onto myself, if I could.”

“Don’t... dare...”

“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”

It was not something she had expected, but she nodded without hesitation.

“I think I need you to give me something to drink first, then. I’m afraid my voice has suffered quite a bit.”

Twilight nodded again, recasting the spell that summoned a bowl to drink from, all the while lying in Rarity’s arms. Rarity emptied it three times, then she nodded. Clearing her throat, she began to test her voice, at first with a lone note that seemed to hang in the air long after it had been sung.

Twilight could see her opening and closing her mouths several times, as if she wasn’t sure which song to choose. But then, she began to sing, and it took this moment for Twilight realize that she had never really heard her voice before. Not like this.

The world is dark
the night has fallen
all of your thoughts
now laid to sleep

The world is dark
the sun descended
all of your fears
can rest a while

The world is dark
the snow has fallen
all of your dreams
buried in white

The world is dark
the world is dark
the veil; the curtain; and the blanket
oh Luna yours, the realm of night

The fourth verse had a melody entirely different from the previous three, and the moment when Rarity’s voice drifted through the final lines send a shiver all over Twilight’s neck; a feeling unlike anything she had experienced ever since the spell.

“I wanted to choose something happier instead, but... it didn’t feel right. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Twilight whispered. “I wish you weren’t here, but... I am glad that you are. I’m so... so glad. Nopony else would... mean as much to me.”

The words came as a shock to her when she spoke them, as she knew them to be true. Never before had she chosen one of her friends above the other, and neither had she intended to do so here. Yet she didn’t feel guilty, it was simply the way she felt. And she thought to know why it was, too; what else could it be but Rarity's must essential trait? Her desire to give to everyone around her was something Twilight shared, but something at which she had failed so miserably. Now, she saw in Rarity what she had failed to be herself.

“Do you want to sleep?”

Twilight shook her head. “I am not tired. Just exhausted. I just... I want you to hold me...”

Rarity said nothing, but she didn’t give Twilight free, and Twilight closed her eyes again... maybe she would weep some more, if tears were going to come...

Chapter 7

Lying secure in Rarity’s embrace, Twilight could feel her condition gradually improving over the course of the following hours. Maybe, it really had been some sort of illness, or maybe she had just been in dire need of rest. Whatever the reason, the pain was lessening at last.

And something had happened.

“Rarity?” Twilight turned her head upwards at her friend, who had had her eyes closed, but opened them at Twilight’s call.

“Yes, dear?”

“The ﻿crow I’m linked to... it landed somewhere. It’s above ground, and it isn’t moving.

She could see a gentle shiver erupting from Rarity’s muzzle, spreading over the rest of her body.

“I know we should have gone to it right away, but-”

“Of course. I decided not to go. But now we have to, don’t we?”

“I think so.”

“How far off our current course?”

“About a right angle."

“Ah, well then. That’s not too bad, is it?”

“Square two times the distance,” Twilight said, and she almost managed a chuckle.

“So it is. You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I think the worst is behind me.” A gulp. “At least for now.”

“Do you want to start today? Or perhaps now?”

“Not now.” Twilight lowered her head, closing her eyes “I’m... better than earlier, but not good enough to walk."

“Alright.”

A pause.

“Rarity... the song you sang to me. How do you know it?”

“Hmm...” Rarity absently stroke over Twilight’s mane while she answered. “There was a fellow student in my class, long back in elementary school. He was tad bit eccentric, but he and I were friends, and one day, he showed it to me. He had composed it himself.

“But that was before Luna’s return.”

“Oh, I know, dear. It is quite remarkable in hindsight. Most students that age didn’t even know about Luna, yet alone thought of her as anything but an ancient, evil figure, but for him she was a source of inspiration. I’d be curious as to what he thinks about her return, but I’m afraid I’ve lost contact to him entirely.”

“Once we’re back, we’ll find him,” Twilight murmured. “I gotta say thanks.”

More time passed, and while she was curling herself together, Twilight gradually became aware of a rather odd aspect of her current state.

She wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

Twilight was certain that she had been cold in every single moment since the spell, and there was no reason why it should be different now. In fact, she could feel that it was still cold, she just wasn't freezing, as if she were well-rested, well-fed, and had only been exposed to it for a short amount of time.

She wasn’t deceiving herself. The fact that she wasn't freezing meant that something was wrong with her; with her organism, with her brain, perhaps with her senses. It was a concerning thought, and a bad sign, but something she welcomed all the same. Twilight opened her eyes which she hadn’t realized to be closed, and as if to add to her fear, she could see a patch of red fog in front of her, fading into nothingness over the next two or three seconds. Unlike the orb, it was no figment of her imagination; an illusion which she couldn't trace back to its source.

“I want to talk about something,” she heard herself saying, feeling the sudden need for distraction.

“About what?”

“Dunno. I... something. Rainbow Dash. You know any secrets about her? I...” She gulped. “I’m sure our friends would understand if...” She left the sentence unfinished, unsure of whether or not she was right. Then she shook her head. She had not intended to suggest any of this. All she had wanted was... a distraction...

Her mind was not operating with its usual sharpness, and this thought frightened her, perhaps more than anything before.

“Well... I do know that Rainbow Dash secretly likes to wear pretty dresses, but won’t admit it to anypony but me. Telling you this would usually upset her greatly, though I suppose under the current circumstances she will show sympathy.”

“Thanks.” Twilight’s lips twitched. “It is kind of funny, at least. How do you know?”

“She used to come by and model for me, occasionally, always at times when nopony else would notice. It was our little secret.” She gave a cough. “One could say you hit a gold mine.”

“What kind of dresses?” It was a question accompanied by a stitch of guilt, but guilt was an emotion preferable to what she had felt before. “I don’t think Rainbow Dash would be too adamant about not admitting that she likes wearing dresses, as long as they look cool enough.”

“Perhaps, but in truth she likes them all. Everything, down to the girliest outfit I ever had the pleasure of designing.”

“Why?”

Rarity smiled. “You tell me, dear. I’m not a good judge of character. I appreciated having her model for me, and never bothered to ask.”

“Hum...” The feeling of working on a puzzle was a pleasant one, although Twilight quickly thought to know the answer.

“She wants to be desired...” Her voice trailed off, but something inside her was confident that she was right. “I... think. She never lets anypony get close to her. It must be a way to feel... precious.” She gave a sigh. “I wish I had known.”

“You know now. You can talk to her about it once we get back.”

“Yeah...”

The unspoken implication hung between them, and Twilight felt that it was time to get moving again.

“Give me... a few more minutes.”

“The crow has landed on something?”

Twilight nodded, glad for the distraction. She wasn’t sure how her condition compared to other moments since the spell; it was better than earlier, but walking again was exhausting.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No. I know that it’s about four times our height. It could be a tree, or a rock, or... or some kind of shack.”

“Hm.”

“Twilight?”

“Yeah?”

“The crows.” Rarity made a pause. “What? And why?”

Twilight hung her head, but suddenly, something changed. Without knowing why, she found her ears perking up. Her gaze pierced forward, and she realized that... it was raining.

It was raining. Heavy drops splashed onto the ground, constantly, creating a soothing wall of noise...

And other than the rain... nothing. Twilight pivoted around on the spot, casting glances in all directions. There was nothing... brown soil... nothing else...

And after all, the rain wasn’t so bad, was it?

And she wasn’t cold...

“Twilight? Dear?”

“Huh...” Twilight shook her head, closing and opening her eyes a few times.

Blinking.

A wave of fear surged through her when her mind caught up with her senses. Fear. Of her condition. But not only that.

Fear of the end. Of extinction. And of failure.

The shivers that caught her body were not lost on Rarity, and without saying another thing, she turned around and gave Twilight a gentle hug.

But it was no use. Twilight felt herself hyperventilating, and a the urge to cry returned, but this one was of a different kind. Not pain, but fear.

“I’m scared, Rarity. I don’t want to die.”

It was the first time that she had said this, and with the words came a surge of dizziness, and she knew she would have collapsed at the spot if not for the white hooves holding her...

“I’m so afraid. I’m so... do you know when you were a kid and whenever something happened that you thought was terrible, your mother would just make it right? But now there is no-one. There is no waking up from this, Rarity. This is real.”

This was real. Twilight had thought that the realization had come a few moments ago, but it hadn’t truly come until now. Only now, at this moment, did she really, truly understand the gravity of what she had said. The merciless reality of the moment.

It was real. This was their lives, and they were one step away from distinction. There had always been someone watching over her; by the time she had understood that her mother wasn’t all-knowing, Celestia had already been there to take her place. But not now.

Fear washed over her, a dark, heavy fog, clouding her vision, drowning her, drowning everything.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

She woke up.

The first thing she realized was that she wasn’t cold. The second thing was that Rarity was sitting crouched next to her, maybe sleeping, her eyes closed.

“How are you still dry?”

Rarity’s eyes flickered open. “The dome,” she said immediately, not needing more than a moment to react to the question. “It’s still there.”

Twilight looked upwards. So it was.

“But that’s... I...” She stocked, not wanting to say that it was impossible.

“Twilight, darling. What is happening to you? Please, tell me.”

“I...” Twilight made a pause, almost expecting the fear to come back, but it did not, at least not for now. “I’m not cold anymore. It happened earlier today. And I have... moments when my thinking is slow. And sometimes I have hallucinations.”

She tried to listen inside herself, but now, everything seemed to be normal. Her vision was clear, her mind wasn’t clouded, as far as she could tell... only the cold was still absent.

“I’m not cold,” she said again, calm, observant. Then, “how long has it been?”

“Three or four hours, I would say.”

“Oh...”

“You asked me earlier today – or, perhaps it is more accurate to call it yesterday – how I felt, and you said that you yourself feel comparatively good. How could this all have happened in such a short span of time?”

“I have no idea.” The answer was given without hesitation, and Twilight had nothing add.

“I see. But, what about now?”

“Good. I’m... well, the fact that I’m not feeling the cold could be a bad sign, but right now I’m... good. Better than ever since the spell, probably. You?”

“I’m fine. Twilight... this is only the fourth day. There is no reason why three days without food should have such a strong impact on either of us. I was thinking about this while you slept. Something is wrong.”

Twilight shook her head. “No shoes. No food. And no warmth. And three days is a long time. I can... it feels like the spell is... a long time ago. I... you don’t know what all of this can do to a pony.”

“I have never heard of ponies getting hallucinations due to a lack of either of those. The pony body can survive two weeks without food. Given the constant exhaustion we’re putting ourselves through, I suppose you could reduce that to ten days. Ten days, Twilight. This is the fourth, if even. And your spell...”

“The spell isn’t causing this.”

Rarity gave a small nod, not questioning the assertion. “Then, it should be even longer. It can’t be right.”

“But what happened...” Twilight stocked, interrupting herself. “We should continue,” she said instead.

“Of course.”

“What happened wasn’t because someone else made it happen,” Twilight said, as soon as both of them were walking. “I took out the elements because I was being drunk and stupid. I tried to do the thing with Fluttershy, and the elements backfired. I felt my spell going out of control, forming random patterns, and I interfered to change them. If I had done nothing, they would have blown up the library...” She sighed. “Which would have been the lesser evil, I’m sure. It would not have killed any of us. But my point is that I caused this. I changed them into the next best thing, and it happened to be a teleportation spell. Not that it was unlikely, but it could also have transformed into pure light, or even heat. It was coincidence.”

“That does sound convincing,” Rarity said, “but it does not solve the problem. Let us list the things that are wrong about this place. One, there is rain. Two, both of us are in worse conditions than we should be, especially you. Three, the crows. And four, I suppose, the dome.” She made a pause. “Maybe someone has taken control after you teleported,” she offered.

“I... don’t think that’s likely. But... yeah. It’s not impossible.”

“Is there anything you can do, anything that might clear things up?”

Twilight let her mind wander. It was hard, because she didn’t know what kind of spell would be tricking her, what she should look out for. There were a multitude of ways to deceive ponies, and a multitude of things which the deception might cover. Rarity had not specified what you believed to be false, which of course was because she didn’t know.

“I’ll think about it.”

Rarity gave another nod.

“If... if you are right,” Twilight said carefully. “If we’re being fooled in some way. Do you think the crows... uhm... do you think they’re... pulling the strings, in some way?”

Rarity gave a third nod. “I was thinking that. It does not mean that I believe it to be true, but I’d say their presence is the most unlikely element we have yet encountered. And don’t forget the blood, Twilight. I am far from an expert on animals, but never have I heard of an animal with a blood that has a color other than red. Why should nature go such a strange path?”

“I don’t know...” Twilight bit her lip. For a moment, she tried to imagine that Rarity was right. Because although she didn't believe in it, she was at a point where she couldn't rule it out. It was possible.

Then... was it true?

Was there really someone watching them?

Was something out there?

Chapter 8

They were almost there.

Twilight felt this, and the feeling strengthened with every step they took. The crow she had linked herself to was yet to move from where it had landed, and whatever it was sitting on was drawing close. Soon, they'd come across what would be the first change of sight since the spell. It could be a sign of the world, an abandoned building perhaps, or maybe even a change of landscape...

Maybe the border was near, and maybe, just maybe, they'd end up making it without it even being close.

Maybe...

“We're almost there.”

Rarity nodded, and Twilight found her gaze fixated on the fashionista long after the gesture was given. Her fur was tousled and dirty at parts, her mane hung down from both sides of her head, loose and unkempt and messy. Her eyes carried the unmistakable signs of strain and the loss of sleep, and the outlines of her face seemed rougher than normal. And there, on a chain around her neck, hung a pendant in the form of a diamond.

Twilight had not spent a single thought on it for the past days. It had not interfered with any magic she had cast, nor had she even sensed its presence. And yet, somehow, it still seemed important to her, like a missing part of the puzzle...

She loosened her gaze, casting it back ahead. Whatever they'd find, they'd find it soon... very soon...

... now. Twilight felt her heartbeat accelerating, and there, straight ahead, was a shape gradually loosening itself from the surrounding blackness.

It was a tree. A tree not quite like any one she had seen before, but undoubtedly a tree. It’s trunk was thick, a circumference of several feet, its branches long but sparse. There were no leaves, not a single speck of green, but there were fruits, little, misshapen, brown things.

And crows. It looked as though every bird that had sought them out the day before was now here. They were sitting on the branches, on the ground beside the tree, or flying circles above its trunk. The sight filled Twilight with a strange and unexpected sense of joy, and she realized that she had wanted to see them again.

But it was a feeling vastly overshadowed by a crushing wave of disappointment. She had hoped that whatever they'd find would be a sign of the world, a connection. But this, this tree, strange and alien and mysterious, was merely another oddity that she could not explain.

About to say something, she turned her head towards her friend, but when she saw the tears in Rarity’s eyes, she swallowed it. For once, it looked as though she had better control over her emotions than the fashionista did.

She suppressed a sigh, gazing back towards the tree. Was this the answer? Was there an ecological system outside the world, and was rain all this tree needed to grow? And were the crows capable of living off its fruits?

But then Rarity made a sound, a strange mixture between a sob and a laugh, and Twilight realized that she had misinterpreted her tears entirely. They did not derive from disappointment, but from joy.

“I’m... sorry,” she murmured. “It is just that we have not seen anything... anything since the spell. It was so harrowing to see the same landscape again, every hour of every day. Although...” She gave a weak smile. “I suppose this tree is not what we have hoped for, is it?”

Twilight swallowed. “No.”

“But it is a source of food.”

“Mh.” Twilight gave the fruits a leery glance. They did not look edible, and just as she had said, crows were omnivores. The fact that they were seemingly capable of digesting them did not mean that Rarity and her would be able to do the same.

And, of course, it should be impossible for the birds to survive on just the fruits of a single tree.

“Darling?”

“I’m...” Twilight hesitated. “I’m not sure plucking them is a good idea.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow.

“Well... for one, this does not explain what the crows live from. This tree is not enough for over a dozen birds.”

“I suppose so, but there are a number of explanations for that.” Rarity stepped closer towards the tree, and Twilight was quick to follow so as to keep her from stepping out of the range of the dome. “Maybe there are more trees like this nearby, or maybe the swarm migrates from one to the next across large distances over the course of a year. Or, maybe they need so little that this is sufficient.”

“Alright. But... do you see any of the crows actually eating them?”

Rarity cast a look upwards. For a good thirty seconds, both of them watched the swarm, but no crow made any attempts to pluck or bite into one of the fruits.

“Well, if you are afraid that they’re poisonous, you could still pluck one of them. Maybe having a closer look at it will be helpful.”

Instead of following the suggestion, Twilight merely bit her lip. It could be her paranoia, but Rarity herself had suggested it, and this...

“What if the tree doesn’t like that?”

A part of her had expected to get a derisive response, but instead, Rarity took several seconds to think about the question before she nodded.

“A good thing you brought it up, I must say. I surely would have been too eager to reach the food to bother. But then, what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know.” Twilight took one more step towards Rarity, closing her eyes in thought. What could they do?

There were no spells to detect consciousness, no spells to look inside someone’s mind. Magic was a tool to manipulate space and matter, not life. Her magic would not help her to find out if the tree was some sort of conscious being, nor would it tell her anything useful about the crows.

But if the tree was conscious, then maybe...

“Can you hear me?”

It were words spoken out loud and clear, but she got no reaction. The crows’ behavior did not change, and the tree stood still, unbothered.

Then, upon a few more moments of contemplation, Rarity gave her a poke at her shoulder, but when Twilight followed the gesture, there was nothing unusual to be seen.

“What happened?”

“One of the crows flew up to a fruit and took a bite,” Rarity said. “But the fruit is still there.” She gently tugged at it, much too feebly to remove it from its branch, but enough to have the light gray glow signal to Twilight which one she meant.

“Okay then.” After a moment of hesitation, Twilight grabbed the fruit in her telekinesis, but instead of plucking it, she sliced through its center, cleanly cutting it in half. It was easy; whatever the fruit was made of, it was soft.

Her breath held, she anxiously watched the tree and the crows, but once again, there was no reaction. Unlike the day before, the crows did not even seem to acknowledge their presence.

Twilight summoned the slice she had cut off for Rarity and her see. It was brown, not unlike the ground below them, its only pattern being a few dots of slightly darker color.

Bringing it close to her muzzle, Twilight sniffed at it, but if there was a smell, then she was incapable of noticing it.

“I smell nothing,” she said, offering it to Rarity.

Rarity took her turn, then shook her head. “Neither do I. Do you know of any spells useful to see whether or not this is edible?”

“No. None.”

“Well then.” The fruit still in her telekinesis, Rarity gradually moved it closer. Twilight couldn’t help noticing that it was jittering a bit in her grasp.

“The odds of us surviving because of this beat those of dying to something poisonous. We... do not have much of a choice, I'd say.”

“Wait.”

Her instincts had moved faster than her thoughts, and she needed a few moments to realize why she was protesting.

“I’ll do it. If only one of us makes it home, it will be you. It is that or none of us. I could not live on if you die.”

Rarity closed her eyes, and Twilight was almost sure that she would protest, but she didn’t.

“As you wish.”

“Okay.” Twilight could feel the blood rushing into her head as she moved the fruit closer to her muzzle, and she could hear the sound of her own heartbeat when she opened her mouth to take a tiny bite.

“What does it taste like?”

Twilight did not chew on her bite, it was too small, but she moved it around in her mouth before, eventually, she swallowed. It had a strangely uniform substance, there was no shell, no core, just an unknown lump.

“Doesn’t taste like anything.”

“How do you feel?”

Twilight tried to listen inside herself.

“I feel nothing.”

And so it was. There was no nausea, no repulsion, but neither could she feel the liquidation of hunger, or, more likely, its sudden growth. It was not kindled by the long-awaited arrival of food, nor otherwise affected.

Maybe their bodies were incapable of digesting the fruits, but the more likely explanation was that they were too strange, too disgusting, for her to get hungry at a taste.

“I don’t think eating them will be harmful, so...” She reached out with her telekinesis, took hold of five more fruits... and plucked them whole, one at a time.

Something inside her, she realized, had expected there to be a reaction this time. But nothing.

“Uhm... maybe we should wait a few more minutes, to see if I’ll feel something bad? I’m pretty sure there are things which only affect you a while after you ate them.”

But Rarity shook her head. “I know a bit about this, and the delay can be any amount of time. We do not have time, Twilight. We need to take the risk.”

Twilight paused, shivering. Her muscles tensed up, and involuntarily, a drop of her saliva fell onto the ground.

She knew Rarity was right, but when she took the first of many bites, all she could think, all she wished, all she prayed for, was that doing so would not seal her downfall.

From the moment of the spell, failure had either been inevitable or possible. In case of the former, all of their actions had been bound to futility from the start, their death sealed right then and there. But if there had once been a way, then this might be the mistake that would lose them their chance, shut the door towards hope once and for all.

Or, it might be a necessary gambit, one more in a string of choices that, when taken the right path every time, would eventually lead them home.

Chapter 9

An hour had passed, and they were still alive.

Despite their fear, and despite the unpleasantness of the task, they had stuck to their decision and eaten more, first hoping to do so until their hunger would pass, and when that failed to happen, until Twilight decided to stop. The tree had remained still, and so they had taken another dozen fruits with them, renewed Twilight's link to two of the birds, and left.

Now, Twilight could feel her anxiety growing with every passing second that the hunger burned inside her. She knew little about the delay with which different kinds of food were digested, didn't know whether or not what Rarity had said also applied to food, and didn't find it in herself to ask. Neither were things guaranteed to work the same was as they did back home, nor would knowing what was going to happen even be helpful.

Home...

The cold was coming back, and along with it, Twilight found a growing desire for warmth and physical proximity awakening inside her. Occasionally, she would pause just to lean her head against Rarity’s shoulder, and every so often, she'd ask for a hug. Whatever she desired, Rarity would give it to her, reliable, generous.

Eventually, the fourth day came to a close, and they went to rest despite the cold. This time, the dome did not stay, but disappeared as it should, and Twilight found herself drenched from head to tail when she awoke, shivering, freezing.

Cold. It was so cold. With numb limbs, she recast the dome, and against her better judgement, she also cast the spell which she had used at the start of the third day, drying both Rarity and herself. Everything seemed strangely surreal when she leaned down to wake up her friend; the guilt she felt, almost forgotten, was calling attention to itself, scratching at a wounded part at the edge of her mind...

They continued, and Twilight didn’t seem to be able to take her eyes off Rarity’s pendant. Like the crows, like the orb, like the tree, it had all become a symbol in her mind, and the pendant symbolized home. Home, which she wanted to reach so, so much, and yet not nearly as much as she wanted Rarity to... if only Rarity would make it, then everything... everything would be alright...

A shiver ran down her spine. In a moment of desperation, she bit her tongue until it bled, and she cut her connection to the crows who still had not moved from the branches of the forsaken tree. Her eyes closed, she tried to focus on the pain and the taste of blood, rather than the cold or the hunger.

The hunger that wouldn't go away.

“Rarity?”

Rarity turned her head.

“Can I borrow your pendant?”

“The element? What for?”

“I... don’t know. I... just want to hold it.”

But Rarity did not let it slide. “Are you hoping to find a spell? Twilight?”

Twilight swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. Rarity had not added an affectionate term of endearment, something which she had done almost every time she had addressed her like this...

Perhaps...

“Darling?”

Something poked at her shoulder. When she looked down, she saw the the pendant enclosed in a gray cloud, its chain folded together.

Rarity lowered her head, giving her a long, inquiring look.

“Twilight? Sweetheart? Is something wrong?”

“I’m... getting unstable,” Twilight murmured. “When you didn’t say ‘darling,’ for a moment I thought...”

Rarity gave a slow nod. “I see. I can assure you that your worries are unfounded, then.” She leaned forward to give Twilight a hug, letting it last long, much longer than any one she had given before.

It was exactly the answer Twilight had needed.

When Rarity parted, Twilight blinked the tears out of her eyes, looking for the item she had asked for...

It had dropped onto the ground.

For a few moments, she simply stared at it. Careful, even though it shouldn't be necessary, she lit her horn to pick it up, and slowly put it on. Then, she gave a nod.

“Before we continue, could you fetch me a bit of water?”

Twilight nodded again, doing as she was asked whilst sending her mind to wander. There were no ways for her to see if they were being deceived, but maybe there was something she could do with this element? Anything?

Of course, the answer was no. She brought the summoned bowl to Rarity’s mouth, all the while feeling the touch of the pendant on her breast, but not sensing so much as a trace of it on the magical plane. And there was no reason why she should, either. Twilight was far from understanding how the elements worked, but she understood enough about how their disturbance of regular magic worked to know that it needed up from four of them for something to happen.

And yet...

Twilight closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. Even though she had fully recovered her ability to freeze, right now, she did not.

Right now, she felt exhausted, worn out, but in a different way than before. They had not changed their tempo for even a moment, not cantered once, knowing that doing so would cost them more strength than walking at a steady pace. All exhaustion they had felt had been a result of coldness, fatigue, and emotional strain, never one of physical struggle. But now, it felt as though walking itself was an exertion, as if simply putting one hoof in front of the other would exhaust her capabilities, require all of her strength.

The things this made her feel were preferable to the cold and desolation, but the implications it brought were worrisome. The reason she did not freeze was quite simply the additional heat her body produced, but this heat came at the cost of her remaining reserves. It was the same reason they had chosen not to quicken their speed.

Twilight could feel her horn and what little energy was drained through it to keep up the dome. She could feel her heart pumping, and the blood rushing through her head, and she knew that the only reason she was not sweating was the coldness of the world outside.

Realizing that she had been walking for about a minute without so much as a look at her surroundings, she paused to redo the location spell, but it pointed straight ahead. Without exchanging a word with Rarity, she took a short breath and continued.

“Twilight?”

“I need a break,” came Twilight’s answer, and she stopped in her walk, taking long, heavy breaths. She felt as though she had just run several miles.

Rarity nodded and offered a front limb, as if wanting to take her out. When Twilight took it, she pulled her down, and cuddled up against each other, they half-lay, half-sat onto the soil.

“Walking has gotten harder for you, dear, has it not?”

Twilight nodded.

“So it has for me. Twilight, I think the fruits we ate might not have served us well.”

The only answer Twilight could give was a sob. She did not want it to be true.

“Have they satisfied your hunger?”

“No.” Twilight could feel that she was going to cry. She had cried a lot these past days, and it seemed to take less and less to get here there every time.

“Shh... darling. There is still hope for us. We could reach the world at every minute.”

Twilight nodded again, but could not muster up another answer.

Home...

“Though, I suppose, even reaching the world does not guarantee our safety, does it?”

“If we reach anypony,” Twilight mumbled. “I could...” Breathing... exhaustion... “Anyone...” She cast a glance downward, at the element that now hung from her head.

“Do you want your pendant back?” she asked in a whisper.

“No,” Rarity said. “Keep it.”

Twilight let out a strained breath, her eyes fixated on the diamond. Then, letting her mind drift onto the magical plane, she reached out, directing her senses onto the element. Soon, she could feel the proximity of metal, cold, cold as the world outside. When she reached out further, she could feel the insides of the metal body, and there...

Nothing. There was no energy resting within the element, no magic she could access. There was nothing. The pendant was a piece of jewelry with no magic to speak of... not on its own.

Nothing...

Their time was running up.

Twilight knew this, and she knew that Rarity knew it too, but neither of them said anything. They had dropped the fruits they had carried, but the damage was already done. Rather than quenching their hunger, they seemed to have added to it, as everything Twilight now felt would be explained by her reserves finally running low. Even her spell, which should have caused them nausea or pain upon the induction of food, seemed to indicate this, as it had failed to deliver either of those. In fact, save for the hunger, she seemed to be healthy. The pain in her hooves had decreased to a bearable amount, and any stain on her mind seemed to have vanished.

Now, instead of feeling like she was walking through a hell of coldness and emotional torture, it simply felt as though her body was being driven to its limits. There was an exhaustion slowly building up inside her, and it carried with it a sense of finality that was as new to her as it was frightening. Deep inside, she believed to feel the promise of rest, of a peace that would at last free her from all the struggles of this world, but her spirit was too adamant about staying alive, too scared of the inevitability of death, for it to be more than a dark and terrifying deception. Her composure may have been crippled, her body weakened, but her will was not and would never be bent. She knew that it could only end in two ways, with them reaching civilization or with them dying in its pursuit, and as long as there was any hope left, she would keep on trying.

And Rarity...

“You won’t give up, will you?”

Twilight could tell from watching her friend that Rarity felt just as exhausted as she did. Upon her call, she took several seconds to take a few, long breaths, her eyes closed, before she opened them and gave an answer.

“No. Not as long as you are there.”

They looked into each other's eyes, and Twilight could feel a new source of resolve, of hope, maybe even of strength.

Without saying anything else, they continued their walk.

Onward.

Until all hope would be gone.

Towards home.

Despite the feeling of finality that hung above both of their heads, the end did not seem to be quite there, not yet. The fifth day came to a close, and they both went to rest, exhausted to a point where Twilight's sleeping spell was unlikely to even be necessary. But when the sixth day came, it brought with it a different kind of exhaustion.

She was meeting her end. It had been clear on the day before, but what she felt now overshadowed everything she had felt then, a point she hadn't even known existed before. She could feel her remaining strength dwindling, every step taking a bit out of her final reserves. Little had she known that starvation could have this effect on ponies, but every touch seemed to weigh more heavily and last on longer than normal, as if her body simply lacked the strength to repel the pain, a worn down husk that was incapable of regenerating. At one point, she bit her tongue by accident, and instead of vanishing after a few seconds, the pain stayed with her for several minutes.

And her hooves hurt with every step. It was a different kind of pain then before, merely the sum of their every impact with the ground, but it was one that was even more harrowing. And yet, she did not stop, she could not stop. If she asked for a pause now, to wait until the pain went away, then they'd never continue. The pain would never go away, not until they found real food.

She had to continue. Twilight had her mouth half opened, her tongue drawn in, and she paid attention to swallow as seldom as possible, as everything she did now caused her pain. The steps she took were steady and calculated, and so was her breathing. She did not even want to talk, not anymore.

When the day stretched on, she gradually realized that there would not be a tomorrow. Her reserves would last for most of this day, and no longer.

Six days. Six days they had lasted. Days that might have been longer or shorter than normal days, but not by much.

Twilight knew that her spell to slow down starvation was working, and she knew that things had been different before the tree. She might have had hallucinations, experienced inscrutable pain, but never had she felt as though their time was running up faster than it should.

The fruits were killing them. They might not have poisoned them in conventional ways, but they were killing them all the same. They had drained their reserves rather than adding to them, and now, it was as though twenty or more days had passed.

Still she had not given up, but she knew that, rescue or the end, it was near.

And so she closed her eyes, sending her mind to wander.

One last time...

Chapter 12

“It’s over, isn’t it?”

Refusing to give an answer, Twilight made one more step, then one more... and one... more... and one more, and one more... and then a final one.

And then she gave up.

“Yup. This is it.” A feeling of finality washed over her, of sadness, disappointment... and relief. At last, all her responsibility was gone. For the first time in her adult life, there was nothing, nothing she had to do. Nothing to take care off.

There was only her remaining time.

“I hope our friends will get over us,” Rarity said quietly. With a tilt of her horn, Twilight removed the dome from above their heads, causing a raised eyebrow from her friend. “What are you doing?”

“Do you really want to shield ourselves in our final moments?”

“Well...” The fashionista’s body tensed, her already flat mane hanging down heavily from both sides of her head. “No, I suppose not.”

“Rarity,” Twilight said, amazed by how she was able to ask this without the slightest hint of embarrassment or doubt, “I have never kissed somepony before. I want to do it before I die.”

Rarity seemed to hesitate for just a moment, but then she nodded. “Very well.” Not wasting another moment, Rarity stepped closer, pressing her lips against Twilight’s, gently, generously.

Closing her eyes, Twilight focused her mind solely on the sensation, shutting out everything else, the pouring rain, her aching hooves, her exhaustion, even her hunger. A few seconds in, Twilight felt herself wanting more, pressing her tongue forward and into Rarity’s mouth, being unreasonable, demanding, assaulting. Rarity gave no sign of protest, no sign of hesitation, instead grasping Twilight’s head from behind, pushing their lips even closer together, thrusting herself into the kiss with just as much devotion as Twilight could bring forth. An overwhelming wave of stimulation washed over her, making her forget not just her surroundings, but also her current state, her situation. There were no final moments. There was no edge of the world, no never-ending landscape of barren soil, no hunger, no death waiting a few steps ahead. There was only Rarity, her lips, her tongue, her sweet and numbing scent, her hot breath against her face...

She couldn’t tell how long it had been, but eventually, Twilight’s lucidity came creeping back. She found herself lying on the ground, with no strength left to stand. Rarity was curled up beside her, her body still miraculously warm, her eyes open and staring into her own. Twilight rolled them around, until the white body lay below her, then she stuck out her tongue. Rarity opened her mouth expectantly, but instead of kissing her, Twilight cast a simple spell to dry her face and shield it from the rain, then she leaned down and licked in a line upward Rarity’s face. Staring down at her, her muzzle formed a smile full of sincerity and joy that mirrored Rarity’s. The next moment, her affection leaned upwards, biting her into her lip with all her strength. Throbbing waves of pain surged through her body, and she could see some of the blood dripping down where it mixed up with her saliva.

The exhaustion become overwhelming, and Twilight released the magic that had been her bearer, falling down onto the body below her, choosing to squeeze as hard as she could, delighted when Rarity returned it with with even more strength than she still had. The pain in her lip was real and overbearing, the pendant that was squeezed in between them cut into her flesh. She clutched onto these sensations with all of her being.

“I guess this is what all the fuss is about then, huh?” Her breath was short, her mind whirling. “You were amazing.”

“I’m glad we did it.” Rarity’s words were the simple truth, her voice so sincere as only one who had nothing else to consider could ever be. “If it weren’t for this, I’d never have asked it from you, and I’d have ended up with somepony not worth half as much as you are.”

“Thank you,” said Twilight, tilting her head so that her muzzle pressed against Rarity’s neck, inhaling the scent of her body in its fullest. “Do you want to to see me one last time?”

“Yes.”

With immeasurable effort, Twilight heaved herself upwards, bit by bit, until her face hovered above Rarity’s.

One last time.

One last time.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

A final tilt of her horn, one last last surge of magic, and then everything was gone.

Chapter 3

They had walked for hours on end, but the landscape didn’t change.

The effect of the alcohol had worn off, and only now that it was gone did Twilight realize that it had been something to be thankful for. Without the hazy fog clouding her mind, there was nothing left to protect her against the merciless reality of the moment, the fact that she was likely going to die in a matter of weeks... and drag somepony else with her. She might have been in better control of her emotions now, but somehow, she felt even more lost, even more hopeless. The spell to extend their time had been cast, and all that was left now was to walk. To walk ahead, one step at a time.

All too soon, Twilight got tired, but she didn’t say a word about it, and neither did Rarity. There were spells against the tiredness, but using them now was pointless, it would reduce the overall distance they’d be able to travel.

No, they had to sleep. Just not yet. They could walk for another while... who was she to pause when Rarity was still keeping up? Just another half an hour...

Rain pouring down. Even though both of them were perfectly dry now... rain pouring down.

Rain...

“Uh...” Twilight squeezed her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? No, that wasn’t possible. She was still walking. By the looks of it, she had simply lost consciousness. Been somewhere else. A heaviness arose in her breast when she realized that she had been without fear this past while... even if she had no idea how long it had been.

She couldn’t go any further.

“Rarity? I need to sleep.”

Rarity stopped walking, halting beside her. Her mouth was half open, her eyes almost closed.

“How did you manage to go on for so long...”

“I... I don’t know. How did you?”

“I just...” Rarity hung her head, her voice sagged and slow. “I just didn’t want to stop while you’re still going.”

“You didn’t have to...”

Rarity said nothing, and Twilight didn’t finish the sentence.

“Can you give me something to drink before we go to sleep?”

“I... right.” Twilight shook her head, wondering why she didn’t feel more thirsty herself. Casting a simple spell, she summoned a bowl of purple energy, holding it outside the range of the dome.

“You can’t grasp this with your telekinesis, so I’ll have to...” her voice trailed off. Rarity simply nodded. With a feeling of shame and guilt, Twilight brought the bowl to the tip of her opened mouth, gently pouring the liquid inside.

“More?”

Rarity nodded, and Twilight repeated the process, before drinking one bowl full herself.

“I won't be able to hold up the dome,” she said. “We’ll both be drenched during the... well. But I can make us both fall asleep immediately.”

Rarity nodded again, apparently exhausted to the point where she wanted to avoid speaking altogether. Nervously, Twilight crouched down, spending a few moments in the futile attempt to find a comfortable spot on the ground. Still silent, Rarity lay down beside her, slipping as close to her backside as she could. Another wave of shame washed over Twilight as Rarity’s limbs wrapped around her body, this time touching and crossing the line to self-hatred...

“I forgive you.”

Twilight's breath froze. For a moment, she wasn't sure whether or not she had imagined them, but then...

“I know what you’re putting yourself through. I can see in your eyes. And I know you have reasons for it, but I forgive you. Stop blaming yourself, and we'll be more likely to make it through this."

She wanted to answer, but she didn’t know what to say. Eventually, the only response that she had was, “I’ll try.” The constant staccato of rain hammering onto the ground had long become a soothing background noise, and the tiredness began to overwhelm everything, even her shame, even her fear; but somewhere deep inside, a weight was taken off her heart.

Twilight lit her horn, just barely feeling the first drops on her skin before she slipped away...

“Twilight?”

“Uhmmmmghhhhhh...”

“Can you recast the dome? I’m cold.”

The tiredness was still there, but there was no place for it. There was also no realization coming back, no blissful seconds of oblivion upon waking up. She knew where she was right away.

And she couldn’t believe how short the night had felt.

“R-Right.” She had to do all she could to help Rarity. With this thought in mind, she suppressed her tiredness and summoned the dome once more, but the absence of rain was hardly a consolation, as it didn’t dispel the cold, the tiredness, or even the water. It would take over an hour for their coats to be dry again.

At some point, Twilight's legs had begun to hurt.

She didn't know when it had been, but now was the first time when she noticed, and it was a real problem. Pain she could handle, it didn't stop her, but it was there with every step, every second, with no escape. It was the kind of pain that she would have been fine with enduring for a while, a few minutes, even an hour if necessary, but the fact that no end was in sight was what made it so grueling. Would she have to endure it for the rest of the day? Or for the rest of her life?

She lowered her gaze. Something between a cough and a sob escaped her lips, and she threw a quick glance towards Rarity; they were walking so close to each other that she must have heard it, but to her relief, the fashionista showed no reaction. Moving her eyes back ahead, Twilight wondered if she should ask for a pause, but decided against it. Pausing wouldn't stop the pain in her legs, it would still be there once they continued. And they had to make distance.

They had to make distance...

“Are you hungry yet?”

Twilight hesitated, but nodded.

“So am I.” Rarity sighed. “Let us talk about something. We shouldn’t spend the final days of our lives in silence.”

“Alright.” She didn’t say that it would cost them energy - both of them knew that. And she was happy to accept any decision Rarity made. “Any... topic?”

“Do you think the princess is searching for us? Maybe we don’t have to get back to population ourselves. Maybe we’ll be rescued.”

“You know that there is no happy answer to this, don’t you?”

Rarity’s lips twitched. “At the moment, I would take a sad answer over silence. Out with it.”

“Well...” Twilight sighed. “I don’t know how much influence Celestia has in the outer lands. If she knew where we are, I have no doubts she’d come to save us. But given that she has no idea... the area is enormous. Remember the pond? The farther you distance yourself from the center, the larger the circumference. Can you imagine how large it is at the edge of Equestria? And if the overall land has nine times the area...” She gave a chuckle. “That makes the circumference or the outer world almost three times as large. She’s powerless.”

“I see. Poor dear.”

“‘Poor dear’?” Twilight cast her friend a disbelieving look. “The princess?”

“Certainly. She will miss you, Twilight. I doubt that age makes one resistant against loss.”

“Mh.” Twilight cast the spell, pointing into a direction slightly left of their current course. “Do you... ever get mad?” She made a vague gesture around. Rain was still pouring down. The ground was still flat, brown, unbothered, static, and the sun was still not visible. Nothing had changed since their arrival. “Do you get angry at... this?”

“No,” Rarity said, “but only just. Whenever the thought of where we are crosses my mind, I try to think about something else.” A few moments passed. “What about our friends, Twilight? Do you think they are out there, searching for us, even though there is no use?” Her voice took on a longing tone. “I like to imagine that they miss us, that they’re unable to return to their normal lives, just for a while.”

Almost had Twilight said a word of criticism, but she swallowed it, scolding herself for the thought. Rarity was being honest. Of course she wanted her friends to worry, and of course she knew that it was a stupid, harmful thing to wish for. Admitting it, freely and without regret, was a sign of strength.

And she felt it too.

“Yeah. I want them to worry.” It were words that came over her lips before she realized that she was speaking them. “I want Pinkie Pie to stop being happy. I want Rainbow Dash to be stubborn, to go out looking, even though she knows that we’re too far away. I want Applejack to be unable to focus on her work. I want them to think about us in every single moment.” She breathed out, a stimulating wave of shame and excitement dwelling up inside her. “Only for a little while.” To her relief, this was not something she said because decency demanded it, but something she meant. She wanted her friends to worry about her, to think about her, to realize how important she was to them, but she did not want them to suffer. Not really. Not for long.

She threw a glance towards Rarity, who was watching her with her head tilted.

“That was rather malicious, Twilight. I don’t feel nearly as strongly.”

“You don’t?” The feeling of shame intensified, but she kept her head high.

“No. It is quite satisfying to hear you say these things, though. Seeing the mistakes in others always helps one to feel better about herself.”

“Yeah.” Twilight sighed. “I want to be loved,” she said, the enormous confession now coming over her lips without effort. “I want ponies to respect me, to like me, to think I’m powerful, selfless and humble. Ohhhh Rarity... I like it when ponies think I don’t even notice or care about admiration, too.” She laughed. “Maybe I deserve to be here, who knows?”

“Well now, darling. Of course you do not deserve to be here. Both of us want admiration, the difference is just that I admit it, while you... well, you are powerful, selfless, and behave humbly, don’t you? I don’t see how wanting others to notice this is a crime.” Twilight raised her head, and she could see Rarity smiling. “I think most ponies do.”

“I hope so.” Closing her eyes, Twilight once again wished that she were somewhere else. “If we ever get back, Rarity, we’ll have a stronger bond than ever before. And by the way, I think you’re super hot.”

Rarity giggled, and it was a sound so candidly girly and full of joy that Twilight couldn’t hold back a snicker herself, and before they knew it, both of them had halted in their walk and begun to laugh.

“Why do ponies never have these types of conversations if they aren’t about to starve?” Twilight asked, as soon as they had calmed down a scotch and continued their walk.

“Habit, I would presume.” Rarity gave another giggle, this time without any apparent reason. “Though dignity is a silly thing, I must agree. A useless thing.”

“Maybe if we all listened a little bit more to Pinkie Pie, we’d have figured this out earlier.”

“Listened to Pinkie Pie?” Twilight turned her head, seeing Rarity raising her eyebrow. “Good that you brought up the subject. I would like to ask your opinion of our dear friend. What exactly would you say is up with that mare? Is she simply dense, or is there a nicer way to put it?”

“Pinkie is not dense,” Twilight said without hesitation. “She’s autistic.”

“Autistic? Pinkie Pie?”

“Of course.” Twilight threw a disbelieving look at her friend. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

Rarity huffed. “But she has plenty of interaction with her friends, does she not?”

“Uh, yeah.” Twilight grinned. “Okay, look. Here’s the deal. She’s mentally very unstable. If things go wrong, she gets depressed really quickly. And she doesn’t understand how other ponies think and do things. But she’s also selfless, so she wants everypony else to be happy; and since she doesn't understand them, she might also think they could become depressed, too. That’s why she tries so hard to make everypony around her smile. And it’s why she’s usually so sensitive, but sometimes unintentionally rude. She just doesn’t get what’s out of line and what isn’t. You see? It all fits together.”

“Hm...”

“But you know what the crazy thing is? She’s not the one who’s being dense. Everypony else is. She’s... living her life the way that makes sense. With lots of smiles. In the moment. Well, but then again, she also has concentration issues. She doesn’t know when to calm down, focus, and, uh...”

“Shut up?” Rarity suggested cooperatively.

“Exactly.” Twilight gave a shameless chuckle. “Yeah. Still - not dense.” She rolled her eyes. “I have figured out Pinkie Pie months ago. Hah. But I guess not everypony can be as smart as me... ouff.”

“That’s quite enough self-praise for now, I think.” Rarity coughed, the glow around her horn fading.

“Meh.”

The pain was still there, and Twilight could feel the first signs of tiredness arising.

Before the spell, had she been forced to guess how one would feel in a situation such as hers, then she might have guessed that it was something to get used to, even in a relatively short amount of time. She might have thought that one could not constantly be aware of the hunger and cold, the pain and exhaustion, the fear and hopelessness. The same way a pony could not constantly feel happiness in every moment, even if she had everything she wanted, the same way a mind such as hers would surely not be capable to experience continuous pain.

And now, she still couldn't tell whether or not her past self would have been correct. She had been able to push the pain away earlier, but only by occupying her mind with something else, and by talking. Whilst walking in silence. things were different. It was as if time was passing in chunks, and the truth was that she was simply not able to tell whether or not she had lost consciousness during parts of it. She would find herself fully aware of her surroundings at random times, not able to tell how long it had been or what she had been thinking about seconds ago. It was as if she was constantly drifting in and out of a dream, and her mind was incapable of storing information the way she was used to. In a way, the constant awakening was worse than any other fate that she could have imagined, as she was being made aware again and again of how horrible a situation she was in... but unlike yesterday, snapping back was a more subtle process, and that made it even more painful. It didn't feel as though she had truly forgotten where she was, and because of that, she was not even able to consider her moments of trance to be something mild or liberating.

All she was left with was the taste of a promise of peace, but one that was always out of reach.

At least one of her assumptions would have been wrong. It might not be possible to feel joy in every moment, but it was possible to feel misery without end; or if not, then at least a constant shift between misery and nothing at all, which was probably the nicest way to describe what was happening to her.

The day had been long, and yet it had been short. Twilight was not able to tell whether time had been tightening or stretching itself out. It was like looking back on a night after which countless disconnected images were still stuck in her head, and it felt as though so many things had happened, when it had also been over so quickly, almost as if she had been betrayed of the time she should have had.

“Twilight?”

“Hmmm...”

“I want to go to sleep.”

“... alright...”

Twilight stopped, her feet aching, her lungs exhausted, even her horn hurting from the constant effort of keeping up the dome.

“I also believe that... ah.”

Twilight cast her a look, but then she looked away. Shame washed over her, unjustified, misplaced, but perhaps stronger than ever before.

“I suppose we could go a few more steps, then,” Rarity said after the sound of squirting had stopped, but Twilight just fell down at the spot.

“I’m so sorry, Rarity.” She felt another wave of tears dwelling up inside her, and this time, she had no strength left to repel them. “I’m so very, very sorry. I would gladly give up my life if only I could get you home. I would... I would do anything.” Her breaths came out shorter, the sobs barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Instead of an answer, Rarity walked up from behind her, putting her forelegs around Twilight’s neck and pulling her onto the ground. “We should sleep,” she whispered. “We might die soon, but tomorrow is another day. And after that another one. Our time is not yet up.”

“Right. Right.” Twilight swallowed, lighting her horn to cast the spell they needed. “Good night, then.”

Twilight woke up, cold and hungry. She could feel Rarity’s body clinging to hers from behind, the only source of warmth there was.

Quietly, she recast the dome, only to then stand up and stare at Rarity’s sleeping figure. She knew there was no reason not to wake her; they had to make distance, it was the only way for them to survive. And yet... waking her up would mean pulling her out of her peaceful slumber, and into the hell Twilight had created.

Before realizing what she was doing, she found herself kneeling down, casting a spell to dry Rarity’s fur as best as she could. It was not a smart thing to do, the spell consumed too much energy to be worth it, but she just had to do something. If she could make Rarity’s awakening more pleasant, even if only by a little bit, it would be worth it.

As soon as she was finished, she felt regret dwelling up inside her. Shutting it out, she leaned down, picking up Rarity’s body, embracing her and lifting her up.

“Mhhh...” Rarity opened her eyes. “Twilight?”

“Yeah.”

“Now this is a pleasant way to wake up. Thank you.”

“We should start walking,” Twilight said, but not without a nod and a smile.

“Yes, of course.”

Casting the spell, Twilight pointed her horn into the corresponding direction, and both of them began their trek. Walking was painful, but Twilight knew that it would soon get better... though not by much.

“I’m dry,” Rarity remarked after a few steps. “Well, drier than I should be, anyway.” She gave her a questioning look, and Twilight swallowed, nodding.

“You still feel guilty.” It wasn’t a question, and Twilight had no response.

“Twilight, you do know why we had the party, don’t you? And why we had Applejack bring so much of her cider?”

“I presume you wanted me to lighten up.”

“Quite.” Rarity sighed. “Well, I suppose that worked, didn’t it?”

“If you’re trying to say that what happened was also your fault... then don't.” Her own words were like a knife cutting into her skin, because she knew them to be true. This guilt was something which belonged to her, and she wouldn't let Rarity talk it away. “Because it's not.”

“No... I don't suppose it is.” Rarity’s voice was slow, weary. “And I didn’t mean to suggest it, either. No...” She sighed again. “I just like seeing you happy, is all.”

“Oh...” Twilight’s ears drooped. She bit her lip. Once again, she had no response.

Chapter 10

Was she satisfied with how she had lived her life?

She had always been learning. Always reading up on something to know she was prepared. Always chasing for the light beyond the horizon.

And always trying to make the world around her a better place while she was at it.

It was not a bad way to live, was it? Progress was more than just a way to reach a goal. It was also in itself a means for satisfaction, for purpose.

For happiness.

Yes, she had been happy. And wasn’t that, in the end, the only thing that counted for something? If she had a regret, it must have been that she had spent so much of her time alone. Progress alone, so it seemed, wasn’t enough after all. Her life had been like a tunnel that only opened up towards its end. Not all unpleasant... but lonely.

That, and maybe the complete absence of romance in her life? There was a desire in Twilight, a deeply rooted longing, always there, never forgotten, just overlooked.

There had always been so much time left...

Chapter 11

The world was endless.

Twilight felt as though she had never lived life in its fullest before. Sure, she had been happy, and she’d been doing what she wanted, but there still was... more.

Ponies always spent so much time thinking about the past, or the future. But there was no past. There was no future. There was only now.

A realization struck here. There was no reason to be afraid. There could never be a reason to be afraid of the future, because the future could never harm her. Sure, it would catch up with her eventually, but... not at the moment. Never at the moment.

Not now.

It was a fact so simple and true, and yet one that she had been unable to understand until now. The future didn’t exist. She was safe from the starvation that swallowed her body, free of the dangers looming above her... if only for a short while.

Twilight could feel the ground under her hooves, and the hunger burning in every fiber of her being. She could feel her muscles aching, the tension under her face, the strain in her legs. The dome above her head. The constant pouring of rain.

The constant pouring of rain. Rain pouring down from above.

Rain pouring down from above.

It was all there. It was life. Life she had never noticed before... not really.

Rarity, isn’t it amazing? We could do anything. We both understand life, and we stand above it. We have everything at our disposal. All of our feelings, all of our sympathy, and any way we want to make use of it.

We can do anything...

Author's Notes

Author's Note

Welcome!

So... uhm. I'm... not sure how to say this best, but I have a... strange relation to my work. I don't often think about the fact that there might be people who actually read what I write, and whenever I do, it is... ... woah. It's not something I can really comprehend, and I find myself caring to a ridiculous degree about every down- or upvote or comment. This is so despite or perhaps because of the fact that I try to let my writing be dictated entirely by my own vision, and to let what others might think about it have zero impact on the result.

Anyway, I am really, really sorry about the ending. I've been more emotionally invested into this story than I've ever been into anything I've written before, and, particularly near the end, found myself wishing for Twilight to make it, but... there was never a chance, because the ending was actually the first thing I wrote. I'd been reading Lost and Found, and I had this vision of Twilight and Rarity being out there, failing to reach the world, giving up, making out, and dying, and I sat down and wrote the final chapter. Everything afterwards was destined to reach that point.

I also want to address the fast ending... I originally envisioned this going on for quite a while longer, but I realized near the end that I wouldn't be capable of writing for much longer. I think that my writing tends to be the least terrible – or at least I tend to dislike it the least – when it happens in a moment of inspiration wherein I just write a section in one piece (which I will then reread and edit a million times, but usually without changing much about what happens). If it doesn't work that way, then it'll take much longer and the result will always be worse. And... I was running out of those moments. Everything I thought that Twilight and Rarity wanted to say, they had already said.

I think that's it... if you have any questions or remarks, I'll answer everything that's related to the story.