While her initial revelation hadn’t come without its eventual share of doubts, they had been all but wiped out no more than five seconds into her next session. She had directed her thoughts onto the incident, and the result had been immediate. The pain, finally having found its target, had ignited her memories, and it had burnt her guilt, putting her through an experience unlike anything she’d felt before. It had been in equal parts horrible and exhilarating, as the pain had still hurt her, but the sensation of diminishing guilt had been one of the most addictive things she had ever felt. Afterwards, she had still been able to recognize her flaws, but she had not felt them anymore; the memory was unstrained, pure; the guilt was gone.

Even so, she had broken the connection early, valuing patience over curiosity. The smart thing, she had reasoned, was to to study the effects more thoroughly before proceeding.

Since her research still seemed far from its conclusion, she had neglected to tell the princesses about her discoveries. She had, however, told the other girls, and their reaction had not been what she had expected.

Rarity had asked if it was possible to establish a connection for other ponies.

Twilight had truthfully responded that, yes, that would be possible (and fairly easy, too).

Rarity had then asked if she might try it.

Twilight had reminded her of the pain that came with it, and had noted that she’d expected them to be more shocked, and certainly less intrigued.

Rarity had remarked that she thought to understand why Twilight was doing it, and that losing her guilt, as Twilight had put it, was something she really, really wanted to experience herself, even if it came with certain drawbacks. Twilight had mulled her words over, proceeding to ask the other four if they also felt that way.

Applejack had said that, no, the whole thing sounded insane, and why would anypony even consider harming herself voluntarily.

Pinkie Pie, oddly enough, had said that she needed to give more thought to the issue.

Fluttershy had said, in a somewhat intimidated murmur, that she didn’t think she’d want to go far, but that she still wanted to, um, try.

Rainbow Dash had seemed to be fighting with herself, but had eventually declined.

Twilight had remarked that it was still potentially dangerous (albeit far beyond the one percent figure), since she had only tested it on herself, and that they would have to be doing it based on their own risk. All three had voiced their understanding and their agreement.

Finally, Pinkie had announced that she’d now thought about it enough, and also wanted to try.

“If you don’t remember the last time you hurt somepony, try to search for it. It will point you into the right direction. But if it hurts too much, just tell me to get you out. I think it takes a while to get used to. The first time I tried, that... didn’t turn out so well.” Twilight threw a look at Rarity, who gave a confirming nod.

“But it was mostly shock, was it not?”

“Right.” Twilight’s gaze was fixated at Pinkie, who notably wasn’t bouncing, perhaps implying that she understood the seriousness of the issue.

“But if you think it’s injuring you,” Twilight continued, “then please, tell me. Because that really shouldn’t happen. Or, if anything doesn’t fit with what I told you, say something. It might still behave differently for other ponies, and if it does, we should really be careful.”

Fluttershy seemed to be shivering a bit, but she didn’t say anything.

“I think you should confirm again that you really want to do this. I know that you said yes, but... just... look what you feel right now. If you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t signed up, then just don’t do it. It won’t make you a coward. Remember that even Rainbow Dash wasn’t brave enough.”

It was a speech Twilight had prepared beforehoof, and which she felt obligated to give. Too often, ponies did stupid things because of social awkwardness.

But none of them took the way out.

“I really want to try,” Fluttershy murmured, and the other two nodded.

“Well, alright then. Follow me.”

She led them upstairs, spotting Peewee at a free spot on her desk. She had tried to tell him to stay inside before, and maybe it had worked.

“I always have him sit on the table when I do this. Do you guys remember what I told you about how I can ask him to do things?”

Affirmative murmurs from all three.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to find out if others can do it, too. I think they can, but I haven’t had a chance to try it just yet. So... Fluttershy, why don’t you give it a shot?”

“M-me?” The yellow pegasus seemed to shrink a bit as all heads turned towards her, but after a moment she nodded, stepping forward.

“So, uhm, I just... wish for him to... sit on the table?”

Twilight nodded.

“A... alright.”

She took a few steps to the left, positioning herself so that both the phoenix and its desired target fell into her vision. Twilight involuntarily held her breath as she stopped, but only a moment later, Peewee flapped his wings, flying towards the table.

That had been quick. Quicker than any time she had done it herself, even.

“Wooo!” Pinkie Pie cheered, giggled, and bounced over to the blushing pegasus, drawing her into a hug. “Way to go, Fluttershy!”

“Um... t-thanks.”

“Well done indeed. That was a pretty unambiguous result.” Twilight happily made an imaginary checkmark onto an imaginary list before moving forward. “Alright. I think we’re ready... who wants to go first?”

Silence.

“Well, somepony has to.”

“I...”

“Uhm...”

“...”

“Err... alright. Well...” Twilight furrowed her brow, thinking. When she couldn’t come up with anything smart to solve the problem, she shrugged.

“I guess we randomize?”

The others voiced hesitant agreement, so Twilight lit her horn, scourging through various shelves until she produced a single die.

“Alright, so Fluttershy’s one and two, Pinkie Pie-”

“I’m three and six!”

“... Pinkie Pie’s three and six, and Rarity’s four and five. Everypony agree?”

Another round of agreement followed, and Twilight tossed the die onto the floor.

It rolled farther than she had meant for it, and so everypony, including her, rushed over to see which number had come out on top.

“Three!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, right before Twilight could. Then, “That’s me! I won! Or... lost... heheheee...” She visibly gulped, and Twilight even saw a drop of sweat on her forehead. “Ehhehhh... well... alrighties!” She shuffled forward, stepping in front of the table. “Uhm. Uhm. Um. I guess I’m ready? Ohh, uhm, how long does it take? Your connection thing? Do I have to do something?”

“If nothing goes wrong, just a few seconds,” Twilight responded, “and – no.”

Awaiting another nod from the pink pony, Twilight took the familiar path outside her mind, reaching toward the phoenix. Instead of entering his mind, she did an advanced but safe and light-on-energy spell, that would allow her to drag the connection away as a link; then she pulled it towards her friend.

“Alright,” she said, her own heartbeat accelerating. “I’m ready, but you can still say no if you change your mind at the last second.” She waited for a few moments, but Pinkie said nothing, only biting her lip.

“Okay then. Three... two... one...”

And she connected the link to Pinkie’s mind.

Almost immediately, Pinkie let out a strange sound, something like a gasp, but it seemed to resemble surprise, not pain.

Then she began to giggle, and didn’t seem to stop. Twilight’s eyebrows inevitably shot upwards as she watched, wondering if it was just a way to-

But before she could finish her thought, the giggle morphed into a laugh, and then Pinkie winced hard, plummeting downwards until caught by a white cloud.

“Hahahahaaaa... stop that! It... it tickles!” Pinkie gasped again, this time sounding like a frantic gasp for air in between her laughter. “Hehehe... stop it! Stop it!”

Twilight broke the connection, ending Pinkie’s laughter at once, but leaving her gasping for breath.

What.

The.
a
???

“Puuhhhhhhh...” Pinkie Pie shook her head, as if shaking off a bad dream. “Nice save, Rarity!”

“Er...” Twilight still felt utterly confused. “... yeah. Good... reaction.”

“Um, Twilight?” Fluttershy spoke up. “That was, uhm. Not supposed to happen, was it?”

“No.” Twilight shook her head. “No.”

“Uhm. Why do you think-”

“I have no clue.”

“Just Pinkie Pie?” Rarity offered.

“Or because she’s an earth pony?” Fluttershy suggested.

“Hehehee... well, none of you are, so if you try too, then we’ll know!”

“Would you say that it is still safe?”

“Uhm...” Twilight rubbed her brow as she turned towards Rarity, feeling as if there was a knot in her thoughts. “Well...”

Okay. Back on track.

“Not... as safe,” she said after a moment of thought. “Previously, we had one ‘safe’ result, and an assumption that it behaved differently for different ponies. Now, it seems that the assumption isn’t true, and we have two ‘safe’ results. But the chance-”

“Hey!” Pinkie Pie interrupted her, frowning. “That wasn’t safe! I’ve never been tickled that much before!”

“-for a third result not to be safe is, I think, higher than what I thought the chance for it behaving differently at all was before.”

“How likely that it...”

“Kills us?”

“Well, yes.”

“Well... one in five-hundred, maybe. Probably less. More like one in a thousand.”

A pause.

“Alright,” Twilight said, “before we do anything, Pinkie, I want you to describe to me exactly what happened.”

Listening to Pinkie, though, had not been helpful.

All she had gathered was that it had tickled a lot and apparently at a lot of places. When Twilight had asked whether she wanted to try again, Pinkie had stared at her disbelievingly.

“Are you kidding? That was horrible!” she had said. And then she had giggled.

Rarity and Fluttershy, however, had both explained that they still wanted to try. Twilight had noted that Rarity would take an even smaller risk since she was a unicorn (like Twilight), and so she had volunteered to go first.

Now, Fluttershy stood beside Twilight, and by the way she was shivering, one could have thought that it was her, not Rarity, who was about to put herself through probable pain and improbable risk.

“Remember that you can also still change your mind if you want,” Twilight remarked, who wasn’t expecting it to happen any more than with Pinkie. Rarity shook her head, and Twilight nodded. The link was already drawn, all that was left was to close the connection.

“Alright then.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Rarity gasped, and this gasp did sound like someone who was suffering. Sure enough, as Twilight paid close attention to her expression, she was pretty sure that, this time, they were getting the expected result.

Rarity seemed to be put on the edge, and may have already fallen over were it not for Pinkie Pie giving her backup. Her mouth was half-opened, and Twilight briefly wondered whether she herself looked similar during the connection, before-

“Stop.”

Immediately, Twilight broke the link. As if the connection had held her up on an invisible thread that was now cut, Rarity’s body limply fell into Pinkie’s waiting arms.

“You okay?” Fluttershy and Twilight asked in unison.

Rarity didn’t answer at first, inhaling flat, quick breaths. “That...” she murmured. “... that was horrible.”

And unlike with Pinkie Pie, who had said the same thing, Twilight knew that this wasn’t a joke.

“What happened? Anything other than what I predicted?”

“N-... no. Thanks, Pinkie.” She gestured for her to let go, and Pinkie hesitantly drew back. “It was like you said. It hurt, it didn’t feel like it was injuring me, and when I... thought about my mistakes... it pointed me to them... and I even felt it working on the memory... briefly... before I left... but Twilight.” She shook her head. “It hurt so much. I cannot believe you are putting yourself through that by choice. You warned me that it would hurt, but... but this much? Darling, just how can you stand it?”

“I...” Twilight hesitated, the gears in her head already turning. Unlike Pinkie’s result, this one seemed to make sense, and it offered a number of immediate explanations.

“I don’t think it’s because I’m that much tougher than you. If the difference is as big as you say, then that doesn’t seem likely. If I was that tough, I’d know about it. And you... well, are you usually that much more sniveling than other ponies?”

Rarity shook her head.

“There’s probably another reason, then. Whatever triggers the pain, it’s probably more potent in your case than in mine, so that it actually just hurts more for you than it does for me. That could also be a reason why no-pony has researched them before...” Her voice trailed off. “At least, maybe...”

“Are you saying that I just hurt more ponies than you did?”

Their eyes met, and Twilight made a deliberate effort not to lower her gaze. This was a situation that called for caution, but not at the cost of honesty.

“Maybe,” Twilight responded, “but things are a bit more complicated than that. The, um, relevant question is how it’s measured, and I still think it has to be subjective.”

“Pardon?” Both of their gaze fell onto Pinkie Pie. “Twilight, could you maaaybe explain that so I understand? Pretty please?”

“Right.” Twilight took a few moments to order her thoughts, thinking of a way to explain. “Okay. Do you guys know what racism is?”

Fluttershy nodded, while Rarity and Pinkie shook their heads, and so Twilight gave a brief explanation.

“It’s only really a thing among dragons and griffons, but imagine a unicorn who’s really racist towards, say, pegasi, considers them worthless, and believes they don’t have real feelings. The question then is, if he did mean things towards them, and he connected to a phoenix, would it treat those actions as mistakes, or not?”

“Oh,” Pinkie said, “I get it! If it’s subthingtive, then the pony thinks he did the right thing, so she’s not being punished!”

“Subjective,” Twilight corrected. “But yes, exactly. And I suspect that this really would happen, because-”

“-the phoenix isn’t smart enough to know so it has to be what the pony thinks?”

“Yeah.” Twilight raised an eyebrow, giving Pinkie a curious look.

“So,” Rarity said, “it’s not about how many ponies one has hurt, but how many one believes to have hurt?”

“Yes... technically.”

“Technically?”

“Well. I think it’s about what a pony believes, but that’s not necessarily the same as what she says she believes, or even thinks she believes. Sometimes, ponies think they believe something, but they’re wrong, and in truth they know better. In case of racism, that’s probably often true, but not always.”

“Really?” Twilight noticed a trace of skepticism in Rarity’s voice, that had previously not been there. “That sounds a bit like, ah, wishful thinking to me, darling. How can you claim that what they say isn’t really what they believe? Is there even a way to properly tell them apart?”

“There is,” Twilight said, “because, because while a pony might say things she doesn’t believe – without realizing it –, she won’t usually do things that don’t fit what she believes. Give me, um, a moment to think of an example.”

Rarity nodded.

“Okay,” Twilight said after a while, “Imagine a pony who isn’t really any good at painting, but who thinks she’s done great after she’s drawn her first picture. Or rather, she thinks she believes that. Maybe she really does, but if not, then if you asked her to show it to others, she would probably make excuses for why she can’t do it. Even if nopony asked her, she’d probably make those excuses to herself. And if she had to show it to others, she’d probably find explanations for why their judgment doesn’t count, before she even hears it. This shows that she doesn’t really believe it, because if she did, then she’d just go ahead and show it to others – they’d probably like it, right? And still, if you asked her, she’d tell you that she believes others would like it, and it wouldn’t be a lie. She really does think that she believes, it’s just that she’s wrong.

“Think about it.” Twilight gave all of them a glance. “Doesn’t that ring a bell? Don’t you remember somepony who’s done something similar before?”

“I do, actually.” Pinkie looked impressed. “Wow, Twilight, you’re smart!”

Twilight blushed, while Rarity’s brow furrowed.

“I believe,” she said, “yes, I believe I have seen that.”

Even Fluttershy gave a timid nod.

“Mhh...” Twilight licked her lips pensively. “When it comes to how often you’ve hurt others, that’s probably something most ponies know, and so...”

“So I really did hurt more ponies than you, yes?”

“Probably,” Twilight admitted, “but Rarity, that’s to be expected. Remember that I lived alone in Canterlot for most of my life, so if it really depends on how much you’ve done overall, then it’s only logical. And it’s also not fair towards you, because it doesn’t consider all the times when you’ve helped other ponies...”

Rarity nodded. “I see.”

“You know I’m not saying this just to make you feel better, right?”

Rarity nodded again. “I know, dear. What you said is true.”

Feeling relieved, Twilight managed a smile. “It’s also just speculation,” she added. “It seems to fit, but for all we know, there could be another reason and none of what I just said matters.”

Rarity nodded once more, then cleared her throat.

“Well...” She made a gesture toward the pegasus. “Fluttershy’s been living rather isolated too, hasn’t she?”

“Oh.” Twilight hadn’t realized the implications of her theory. “Um, I guess, yeah.”

“U-... uhm.” Fluttershy bit her lip. “But I’m a pegasus...”

“We don’t know what will happen to her at all!” Pinkie Pie concluded.

“True, but if she does react like us two, then I think Rarity is right. She could have an easier time.”

“Twilight,” Rarity noted, “what about your time in elementary school?”

“Ah. I had... forgotten... about... that...” Twilight’s brow furrowed. “Well, it’s... possible that it doesn’t count because we think we’re not responsible... since we were too young. But it could also count, but because we all have it, it’s still more for you than me. In case of Fluttershy, she, uhm, has been nice as a filly too, from what I’ve heard.”

Fluttershy blushed.

“So,” Pinkie Pie said, “Fluttershy, are you going to do it? Huh?”

“I think so.”

“Now?” Twilight made an inviting gesture toward the desk. Blinking, she realized that Peewee was no longer sitting there.

“Oooh, he’s gone!” Pinkie Pie giggled, and spun her head in search of him. “Maybe he flew outside?” A few bounces brought her toward the window.

“Hehee... Twilight, he’s sitting on a branch. Gosh, it’s easy to forget that we’re all in a tree! Do you want me to try to get-”

“No, thank you,” Twilight decided quickly. The most recent experiment suggested that it was best not to use Pinkie Pie as a test subject if the goal was to obtain results that were applicable to normal ponies. “Let Fluttershy do it.”

“Oki-doki-loki. Fluttershy, the window is yours. Hehee...”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Um.”

“O- yes?”

“Um. I...” Fluttershy shivered, much more heavily than before. Twilight was reminded that she was the mare who used to be too afraid to even speak to any adult ponies beside Rainbow Dash.

She gulped, seemingly fighting with herself, then shook her head.

“Nothing. Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Really, Fluttershy? Are you sure?”

Fluttershy nodded. Twilight bit her lip in doubt, but didn’t protest. It wasn’t her decision.

“Three,” she began again, “two.”

“One.”

Immediately, Twilight knew that her hunch had been correct. Whether race was an issue or not, Fluttershy had winced the moment that the connection had been set up, and it had to be because she was receiving the same reaction as Rarity and her.

Twilight could hear somewhat akin to a whimper; so quiet that she wouldn’t have heard it had she not listened so closely. But then, Fluttershy’s body relaxed, and Twilight could see her smile.

Beside her, Rarity gave a sigh. Pinkie had taken position beside the pegasus, but so far, it seemed as if Fluttershy didn’t need it.

“It’s working for her, isn’t it?”

Twilight nodded. ”I think so.”

“I’m... don’t take it the wrong way, Twilight. I’m not concerned with what it means for me, least not much, and even less am I begrudging either of you. I just wish...”

“That you could do it, too?”

Rarity nodded. Twilight had no condolences to give at that. It was a shame, and she couldn’t downplay its importance, because she still had no idea where it would lead them.

Her eyes flickered back to Fluttershy, whose expression matched perfectly what Twilight had felt during her own sessions; her face not without strain, but simultaneously showing an expression of utter bliss.

Over a minute passed, until...

“That’s... enough.”

Twilight broke the link, and Fluttershy, who had tensed up after all near the end, now relaxed again, taking a few deep breaths.

“That was... mh... nice.”

Twilight laughed. “Nice? Really? Out of every word you could have used, you called it nice?”

“Uh...” Fluttershy notably blushed. “I-I mean... it was a bit... mh... painful... but also wonderful.”

“Yeah, that’s more what I thought.”

A pause.

“Did everything go as I predicted?”

Fluttershy nodded, and Pinkie Pie, still standing beside her, gave her a hug.

“That’s our Fluttershy! So nice that even a phoenix can’t find stuff to complain!”

“He did find a f-few things, actually. But... t-thanks, Pinkie.”

“Would you want to do it more often?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Uhm. Not... not n-now, though.”

“Of course.” Twilight smiled. “Well then,” she said, “thank you all for being test subjects.”

Author's Note

Author's Notes! Wait, those are mine. My notes!

Silly intros aside, I had initially written a thing about how I apparently will be unable to sustain the upload schedule of one chapter per week and that I'd be aiming for one every other week in the future, oh and also how it'd be three weeks this time because I was on vacation for one. That's now I don't even know how many weeks ago.

I had an exam afterwards, but the issue is really not one of time. It is more... the degree to which I worry about RL stuff, perhaps? I'm not sure. But something pulled me out of the mindset that I need to write – or even edit, given that the bulk of the chapter has been complete ever since two or so weeks after I published #17. And that made me realize that this is a thing for me. I have stretches of motivation and stretches of no motivation, and they seem to follow each other fairly regularly. Which is a shame, because I'd much rather be motivated all the time. . .

There are also reasons related to the chapter itself. It's not that I'm dissatisfied with the story... yet (as was the case with The Shortcut), but... I guess I'm sort of unsure about this particular chapter... mostly about the rationality stuff at the end... the concept of belief in belief... I do like to have things of this nature in the story, I'm just not sure if it was the right time and way and if it was too much.

I since also realized what I had understood instinctively for a long time, which is that there is quite a disparity in how I characterize Twilight ... or, really, most of the main 6 – and how others do it. Maybe you can tell, but the thing I dislike most about fiction – as in, about existing fiction, not about the concept – is, to put it bluntly, that authors tend to make characters be morons, and what I mean by that is: how often do characters take a step back, and spend a few minutes to actually think clearly about their situation and what is the best thing they could do? Even (arguably) great literature such as the Harry Potter series, is enormously guilty of this. It is probably a result of the author wanting to get to a series of plot points, and thus instinctively limiting the available options a character has to those that fit his agenda – missing that, all too often, the smartest thing is something really un–story-ish. Like, going to the headmaster and having an in-depth discussion about safety measures at Hogwarts. Or, calling princess Celestia to solve a huge problem instead of risking everyone's lives. Or something as simple as not risking the fate of the entire universe by freeing a near-omnipotent spirit of chaos for no discernible reason. But why are those things untypical for stories? Why is there such a thing as being untypical for a story? Stories are about anything and everything. Having frequently recurring patterns across widely differing settings is pretty damning evidence that there is contrivance going on. Of course, none of this is in any way shape or form limited to the ponyverse.

And so, one of the biggest driving motivations behind my writing (that's been around for a while but that I'm now fully conscious of) is to have my characters feel, well, reasonably smart for who they are. It's fine if Rainbow Dash makes an over-hasted decision, but it's something different if the entire cast just misses an obvious third option. And in valuing this much higher than silly things like, say, pacing, this is probably giving my stories an unusual flavor, whether that's a good or a bad thing.

Spinning this thought further, I suppose my priorities in writing are the same I have in reading. I drop most random stories I read a few sentences in because of grammar. Among the rest, I drop the most because of their writing style. But if a story has made it that far, then it almost always succeeds or dies with the believability of its characters.

That was somewhat of a tangent... I suppose. Ah, back to the story. The point is, what I am largely doing with this story is to invent broad mechanics, then put myself into the mind of a character, and see what she will do, and if it isn't what I had imagined, awesome. No-one cares what I had planned anyway. Needless to say the die-roll has been randomized. I was fully prepared to let its outcome dictate the course of the chapter, and though I had vaguely planed to have a second one, that turned out not to be necessary.

Unrelated to all of the above, Putting Your Hoof Down is excluded from this story's canon. You can probably guess why that is relevant.

I feel and hope that I am slowly shifting back in the right state of mind as of now, so future chapters might be done in a timely fashion, although probably not at one chapter / week now that they're longer (though, who knows?) I hope Twilight figures stuff out sometime soon, there are a few things that might happen then . . .