The Riddle

Generally, Twilight liked to keep promises she made, including those made to herself. And while the decision at hoof hadn’t technically been one, she nonetheless felt a similar amount of devotion to her choice, probably due to her having used the phoenix’ potential departure as a chance to avoid taking action. Well, that chance had not come to be, so action would be taken. She had contacted Rarity, and had asked her to bring a friend capable to provide what she needed.

Twilight did her best to calm her nerves as she pulled open the door to greet her visitors, one of whom being Rarity, the other a pink unicorn mare with a purple and lavender mane, a mare whom she recognized after a second’s thought.

“Amethyst Star.”

“Hey, you remember me.”

“Yeah. You’re head of the Animal Department.”

The recipient shook her head. “That’s gone to Fluttershy now. Makes lots more sense that way.”

Twilight nodded, stepping aside to let both of them in.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re the only pony Rarity could think of that knows how to cast a type B shield.”

“Well,” said Rarity, “most of my acquaintances aren’t magicians.”

Twilight nodded again. “How did you learn it?”

“Studied it myself. Thought it’d be useful. Ponyville’s been pretty dangerous lately.”

“That’s great.” Self-study generally indicated a higher degree of understanding, and, consequently, of skill. “I’ll need you to use it on me – just the normal version – for at most a minute. Uhm.” She gave herself a push, deciding to get the uncomfortable out of the way as quickly as possible. “Do you want to get paid for this?”

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“Alright.” Not a complicated mare, it seemed. “Okay. Do you know about the phoenix?”

The pink mare bowed her head.

“Great. I’m running an experiment where I’ll try to get a peek at his thoughts. I probably won’t need any protection, but I’m not... sure, and a bit of extra security can’t hurt. Should we get right to it?”

Both of them voiced their agreement, and Twilight led the way upstairs.

“This... isn’t really a secret,” she said carefully, “but I’d still prefer it if you didn’t go around telling everypony. Alright.” She approached the small, wooden table in the center of the room, the same table that usually stood in the entrance hall. On top of it rested the phoenix, sitting still, almost attentively.

“So, I will stand right... here, and you can choose whichever position you like best, just make sure you have good aim. And Rarity, could you stand beside me?”

“As you wish.” Rarity stepped next to her. “Twilight, this is not going to be dangerous, is it?”

“It is a bit dangerous,” Twilight responded truthfully, “otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you two. But only for me.”

“Only for you?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “You will forgive me if I don’t find that reassuring.”

“I... well, there are some risks, but I...” She didn’t look the fashionista in the eyes as she said this, and a part of her felt doubts dwelling up, but they were only more, more of the same. She had already put them behind her. “I thought about this for a long time, and I decided that I want to try.” A pause. “Okay?”

“Well...” Rarity shrugged. “It is your call, I suppose, if you...” A frown crossed her face. “Hold on...” She shook her head. “No, what am I saying. This is not right.”

And before she could see it coming, Rarity had extended a hoof to her chin, raising her head so that Twilight could no longer avoid her gaze.

“Twilight. This is really dangerous, isn’t it? Not as in, somepony might get hurt, but worse. Tell me the truth.”

Twilight’s first reaction was frustration. She had intended to skip all this. To simply do the experiment, proof that it was safe, and then talk about it, at which point no-one would be that upset anymore. How had Rarity found out? What had given her away? Why...

But once she realized what she was thinking, she felt regret dwelling up inside her, and even a bit of shame. This was not like her. Hiding information from her friends to prevent them from questioning her decisions, that was not what she was about. Stifling a sigh, she forced herself to give the honest answer.

“Okay, yes. Theoretically, there is a chance that it could kill me.”

“Then why,” said Rarity in a slow tone, “do you want to do it?”

“Because lots of things can theoretically kill us, Rarity, and we do them anyway, like me visiting Zecora, or like AJ doing deliveries halfway across Equestria, or Fluttershy taking care of frogs in Froggy Bottom Bog. And this is important, and the risk is really small.”

“How small?”

“I don’t know. One percent? Probably less-”

“Darling. Darling. Darling!” Rarity seemed genuinely upset. “One percent is not a tiny number when it comes to your survival! I have no doubts that you are better at math than I am, but if you risked a one percent chance of death once a week when visiting Zecora, you would last, what, two years? This is your life, Twilight! I would not take that chance even if made me a star in Canterlot this very instant!”

“If families take their kids to the mountains on vacation,” Twilight held against her, “then there’s statistically also a one percent chance that somepony dies over the course of a decade. They might not think about it like I am, but they still are making that judgment, by deciding that the fun they have is worth the risk. Well, I’m doing the same. Consider it a compensation for the last ten summer vacations I skipped.”

For a few moments, Rarity watched her as if she had lost her mind, and Twilight began to wonder if she was about to declare her crazy, but then-

“You are not wrong, I suppose. But... well, for one, is that a real number?”

Twilight nodded.

“One percent over ten vacations of one family?”

Twilight nodded.

“A family would have more than one member.”

“Oh.” Twilight bit her lip at the realization of having missed the obvious, swallowing. It was true, and somehow, it mattered to her. She had not thought it through before, a fact that she now felt ashamed of, and her own argument had sounded convincing to her. Not that it made any real difference, of course; how it compared to other risks didn’t actually matter for her situation, but...

“Uhm. Thirty vacations?”

“And is this really worth that risk?”

Twilight lowered her gaze at that. Licking her lips, she did her best to genuinely reconsider. She didn’t have to do this. She really didn’t. She could just give up and-

... no! No, no, no, and no! This was too important to her, and it would haunt her for too long if she just abandoned it. She nodded, whereupon Rarity scoffed in frustration, clearly not having received the answer she had hoped for.

“Fine. I will not question your judgment, but Twilight, if you’re doing this, you owe it to everyone to set up a proper last will first.”

That hit her like a strike in the face.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes? I am not trying to complicate this for you, but if you are risking your life, then-”

“I am not going to die, Rarity, it is a tiny chance!”

“Make a shortened version, then. At least provide some instructions for all the questions which will come up in case of the worst outcome.” Her voice was calm, and Twilight couldn’t sense any trace of sarcasm or dishonesty. “You are a utilitarian, aren’t you? Ignoring the danger can hardly be the right course. Ah, and tell the other girls before you go through with this.”

Twilight’s blood was boiling. There was something incredibly humiliating about being told to compose a last will, if it was almost certainly not going to be your last will, and the fact that Rarity seemed to be genuine about it, not just trying to make her reconsider, only made it worse.

Nonetheless... to put it in the fashionista’s words... she was not wrong... and Twilight had already made enough mistakes for one day to insist on her position, so...

“Fine.”

Rarity nodded. “We shall come back at another date.”

At the word ‘we’, Twilight turned towards the pink pony with a wince, whose presence she had forgotten about entirely throughout the debate.

“Listen, I’m-”

“No need to apologize. What you discussed sounded important enough.”

Twilight nodded numbly.

“Alright.” Amethyst’s eyes hung on Peewee for a moment, who didn’t show any signs of having understood the conversation, then she turned away with a shrug. “See you then.”

“Yeah... bye.” Twilight sighed, too frustrated to even escort her guests back to the door as they headed downstairs.

Ugh.