A Foalish Mistake

Imagine a home, far from its neighbours but light and airy, neither messy enough to inspire disgust nor neat enough that guests would feel awkward when it came to moving any item for comfort. The cottage was warm in the afternoon sun, moderated by a cooling breeze that also carried in the smell of fresh flowers from the garden, and from the nearby forest. Imagine the owner of this cosy cottage, humming quietly as she cleaned her home. She was a pegasus with a yellow-gold coat, and was feeling her usual contented calm returning now that her visitor of that morning had gone. She had initially felt terrible that she couldn’t help her friend to feel better, but as she worked she slowly realised that the best thing she could do was wait and hope.

For all she was trying to feel calm now, her pink mane streamed out behind her as she dashed around her house. Everything that could be cleaned was clean now, and she half hoped that some sick animal would come in needing help, or one of her friends would come round to ask for something, just so she could think about something other than a disappointed suitor. When she heard a voice, though, she jumped so abruptly that her head banged against the ceiling and she yelped in shock, only just regaining her composure in time to flutter her wings a little and slow her descent before she landed in a heap.

“Fluttershy!” the voice repeated as she looked around in confusion, “Is the spell working? I don’t know if you can hear me or not.”

Ah, it was magic. That was reassuring, she didn’t need to worry that it might be a mysterious voice out of the shadows. And once she had a few moments to think, she was sure she could recognise the pleading tone.

“Twilight?” she hazarded, “Is something wrong?”

“Umm,” it was only a tiny fragment of sound, but just from that Fluttershy could imagine her friend taking a step back and staring at her hooves as she spoke, face decorated with just the faintest trace of a pink-on-purple blush.

“You were researching some new spell, or some old spell, and something’s gone wrong?” she hazarded a guess. That could mean a whole lot of trouble, but after a morning of more intimate problems Fluttershy felt almost happy at the prospect of something straightforward like rogue magic or bad-mannered monsters to deal with.

“Yes! Something like that, I need help, and I don’t think I can hold it much longer!” Her voice rose in desperation, and that was enough to prove that this wasn’t some kind of joke. A friend needed her help, and that was all that Fluttershy needed to know. She quickly dropped everything and barreled out of the house, taking the road into Ponyville at a flat run.

“Can you still hear us?” the disembodied voice this time was Rarity’s, and Fluttershy was spared another startled encounter with the ceiling only because she was outdoors.

“Yes!” she squeaked, “What–”

“We’re in a rush, so it’s best to explain before you get here. Twilight has been experimenting with some dark magic, she thought she could just cast it on a rock or something to get rid of it, but it didn’t work. Now we’re stalling it, but sooner or later she'll have to cast the spell on somepony.”

“Me??” Fluttershy’s response was so quiet that the two unicorns might not have heard it without whatever communication magic they were using.

“I volunteered!” Rarity was getting increasingly frantic, “I hate seeing my friend in pain like this, I–”

“I don’t want to subject anypony to dark magic,” Twilight’s voice was firm, but it was clear she was making a real effort now to keep the half-formed spell under control. “But the book says… a griffon managed to resist this spell, using ‘a gaze stern enough to demand the obedience of any lesser beast’ … I think a powerful enough stare might reverse or negate the dark magic. Maybe we can try…?”

It wasn’t easy to tell if Twilight was hesitating because she didn’t want to ask something so difficult of a friend, or if holding on to the half-finished spell was really as painful as it sounded. But either way, Fluttershy realised that if they were right, she was the only pony who could help this situation end well. She never thought she’d voluntarily walk into a situation where she might end up with the effects of some unknown dark magic curse, but she could see that if she didn’t then one of her friends would certainly suffer that fate. If she had a chance to resist the spell, she had to at least try.

She was still walking slowly by the time she reached the library, though. It was terrifying to think of what might happen. Twilight Sparkle assured her that as soon as she wasn’t focusing on the spell, she would start looking for a counterspell in any case, and Fluttershy said she was willing to give it a try. Rarity’s horn glowed briefly, sparks flying between the two unicorns as she shared a little more power with her friend to ensure she could hold on to the spell a little longer, and then she walked around the outside of the room working with the most powerful protective magics she was capable of. At the centre of the circle, Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle were both shaking with nerves, hoping they both had the determination or luck necessary to put this particular genie back in its bottle.

“Ready?” Twilight grunted as soon as Rarity had retreated outside. She was clearly in pain now, she tried to explain more about the spell, but was finding it difficult to even stand. Fluttershy nodded, and only then realised that she hadn’t asked what this spell might do to her if she failed. She opened her mouth to ask, but the normally cheery pink glow of magic around Twilight’s horn was shading to a disturbingly dark colour, swirls of crimson and violet sparks dancing all around her body. Fluttershy fixed her friend with the most assertive Stare she could muster, and hoped it would be good enough.

In the streets, a dozen ponies turned and stared as a thunderous boom resonated across the town, and a faint wisp of dark red smoke emerged from the library windows. Everypony panicked, and Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack all raced in as fast as their hooves could carry them, praying that Twilight’s desperate idea might have worked.