In the weeks that followed, Twilight was able to observe how her continuous sessions gradually changed deeply rooted assets of who she was. To her, the progression seemed subtle, natural, and even slow, but in truth it moved at a rapid pace, contrasted to how long real change of character usually took. But no development was unwelcome, and so Twilight never looked back to reconsider her course.

Above all else, she found herself becoming more relaxed, more at ease. Twilight was a pony who thought a lot about what she should do, and who cared a lot about what those whom she loved might think of her. It had driven her into a habit of constant self-doubt, a habit which had become so natural to her that she hadn’t even been aware of it. She had always liked making lists to make sure she did things in order and wouldn’t miss parts of a project or task, but she had never bothered to order her thoughts this way, nor had checklists ever been effective in preventing herself from worrying about the same things over and over again. No, it had taken a phoenix and the total exposure to her past sins for her to get there.

Adding to that, she found herself with a new level of self-control, a second change that was perhaps more directly explainable due to the stark emotions she now put herself through so regularly. It wasn’t as if she’d had a habit of losing her temperament before – she hadn’t – but now, it just seemed... easier. Twilight found herself with an unknown clarity these days, and she was thankful for it.

Fluttershy was now a regular sight at the library. She preferred shorter sessions, often just two minutes long, and she usually didn’t seem to be wanting to talk about them, so Twilight didn’t know how far along she was. Still, she kept returning, and the impacts it had on her seemed to be even stronger than those it had on Twilight. She was becoming calmer, steadier, and, whether or not it was real, she was at least giving the impression of increased confidence.

After her fifth visit, Fluttershy asked if she could stay a bit longer, and Twilight, who had been reading one of the final books on phoenixes (one that she had previously skipped out on), put it aside with a smile, nodding.

“You have something you want to talk about?” The way she had behaved had sort of given it away.

Fluttershy nodded. “I... I have, uhm.” Her left hoof drew nervous circles onto the floor.

“There’s... well, I’ve... found somepony I’m interested in.”

“Oh.” Then, before she could stop herself, “is it Rarity?”

“Errm...” Fluttershy blinked. “No. It’s not a mare.”

“Oh.”

“His name’s Autumn Leaf.”

“Never heard of him.”

A pause.

“Um, Fluttershy – you know I’ve never been in a relationship, right?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then why-”

“Because... I don’t want romantic advice. About how to, um, pursue, um... but I’d like to hear your opinion on whether I should try at all... and... everything else you have to say about it. I... I don’t even know him, really.”

“I see.” Twilight’s eyes trailed over Fluttershy as she tried to give real thought to the issue. As the seconds crept by and the silence was beginning to feel awkward, Twilight cleared her throat to say something, only to change her mind momentarily. “Give me a moment,” she murmured, and Fluttershy nodded. It took the better part of a minute before Twilight had a response she felt satisfied with.

“Go for it, I think. But before you do... make sure you are okay, no matter how it ends. You’re happy right now, aren’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Twilight nodded. “Don’t be the filly who thinks she has to have this now, otherwise her life will be ruined. Look at it as an opportunity. If something comes off it, great! If not, you’re still off as well as before. Better, actually, because you’ll have learned something, and have something to look back on!”

“Mhh.”

“That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be confident. I’m sure Rarity will tell you how important confidence is. And I do think you should talk to her if... you do want to try.”

“I see.” Fluttershy bowed her head. “Thank you. Can I come by tomorrow?”

“Of course. Oh, and Fluttershy?”

“Yes?”

Twilight smiled. “Good luck.”

“You can read my wishes.”

Twilight pensively paced around the desk which Peewee was sitting on.

“But you don’t understand my wishes.”

Her gaze was stuck on the phoenix as she spoke, who showed no reaction.

“Everything you do is instinctual.”

“You have remarkable powers, but nothing inherently different from other magical creatures.”

“So you really are an animal.”

She halted for a couple of moments, eyeing the phoenix closely.

“You don’t understand a word I’m saying.”

“You aren’t bothered by any of this.”

Nothing. Twilight’s heart sank a bit.

“But I’m not sure this is actually true.”

Just to cover her bases, in case he could understand her after all.

Alright, that hadn’t worked.

Twilight stepped in front of the phoenix, her mind focused on a simple idea.

If Peewee was prone to fulfill her wishes as well as he could, and yet wasn’t able to understand her...

... what if she wished for him to understand her?

It was a long-shot, but...

Trying to put the wish into a feeling rather than words, Twilight squeezed her eyes in concentration.

She stood there for what must have been over a minute, trying her best to keep up concentration. Then, she spoke up.

“Can you fly up?”

She had tried coming up with something simple so as to maximize her chances. Expectantly, she opened her eyes to observe the result, still trying to keep the wish in her mind – not the wish that he’d fly, but the wish that he’d understand her request. After a few moments of nothing, she tried again.

“Can you fly up?”

...

Well, she hadn’t been expecting it.

Onward.

Simple tasks, as it turned out, were reliably fulfilled by the phoenix. Be it to fly around, to eat, to make sounds, or anything else she had tried: as long as it was simple and her wish not expressed verbally, he would do it.

Difficult tasks, on the other hoof, such as solving addition problems or turning an upside-down container with food in it around, appeared to be impossible, no matter how hard she focused on her wish. Likewise, if she was careful to request a task through language only, avoiding any emotional attachment to the goal expressed, he would consistently ignore her.

And that just didn’t seem to make sense...

There was a saying in magic theory: ‘magic is the mind of the universe’. It alluded to the fact that magic was the only force in nature which had repeatedly been observed to lead to intelligent behavior. If a door was built to open inwards and a pony went up to it and pushed, even if she pushed at four times the strength required to move it, it wouldn’t open. At best, it would break. But if that same pony applied magic, with the specified goal of ‘open the door,’ then, at some point, her magic would independently decide to first push down the lever and then pull. According to the current state of knowledge, every describable problem was in theory solvable by applying magic intended to do so, even if no strategy was specified to go along with it – indeed, even if a failing strategy was specified, such as ‘open the door by pushing’. Of course, theory and practice were two different sets of horseshoes, and the downside was that brute-forcing intelligence in this way rampantly increased up the amount of magic required.

The theory went further. Two more observations were often cited to make this argument: one, strategies executed in this manner tended to be similar to what ponies would come up with, and two, all intelligent life was observed to have magic integrated into its biological structure (yet not all life period: among the flora, only every other plant was magical). This suggested that magic was indeed the root cause of all intelligence, including all intelligent minds of conscious beings such as ponies (and there was no reputable alternative explanation for how else such minds might come to be). Some went further still, arguing that there needed to be some sort of goddess guiding the universe, who was providing magic with its unique property. It was remarked that strategies executed through brute-forced magic were provably non-deterministic, showing minor but undeniable variations even under identical circumstances.

Phoenixes were the most magical creatures known to ponykind. If their magic had once been used, perhaps collectively, to aid a good cause (or perhaps without any cause whatsoever), and had thereby followed an intelligent strategy, then some parts of Peewee’s behavior would make sense to Twilight. It would simply be the result of channeling intelligence through magic at a scale which ponies couldn’t possibly replicate. Perhaps ‘intelligence’ was a misunderstood concept and merely a standin for problem solving capabilities, capabilities which had then gone off and decided that the way to do good was to read the minds of ponies around them and accommodate their wishes as well as each phoenix was able to. But if that were the case, then Twilight would also expect Peewee to be able to solve more difficult problems, and yet...

Not for the first time, her thoughts came to a halt here. And, not for the first time, it led her to the thought that she might soon find out... except now, ‘soon’ seemed to be right around the corner...

Twilight had arrived at her nine-year old self: she had purged all memories of sins up from that age. The farther she had gone back, the fewer memories there had been per year, so she was presumably close to completion. And if she were to finish... what would happen?

The most likely answer ought to be ‘nothing.’ Else, what did she expect? That Peewee would suddenly become sentient and reveal all of his secrets to her? Certainly not. Still – after so much effort, she knew she was going to be disappointed if nothing was in fact going to happen.

It would still have been worth it, though.

A plan took shape in the back of her mind. She would leave it be for today. Go out. She would really like to go out today. Go eat somewhere. Maybe meet some new ponies. Twilight had tried not to neglect her friends during the past weeks, but she had largely neglected seeing pretty much anyone else, except for the occasional visitor to the library.

And tomorrow, she’d be taking her final session. It would take a long time, but she wasn’t afraid of the pain anymore. She only felt the drive to reach the end... and find out what was going to happen.

Her eyes flickered to the watch on the wall. Ten past seven. Still enough time left until sunset...

Where should she go?

“Tea?” Twilight asked, offering the cup to her friend. It was so hot that a steady stream of white still ascended from the liquid’s surface.

Rainbow snorted, not even bothering to answer. Twilight shrugged, taking the cup for herself (which, incidentally, was also the only one she had brought).

“It was worth a try. Alright.” She tilted her head towards the phoenix, who sat on his usual position. “Thanks again for helping me. Are you ready?”

The pegasus hesitated. A sudden, jerky movement went through her tail.

“... Twilight? You’re not gonna turn crazy, are you?”

“Very unlikely.”

“And... what if you do?”

“Well, that’s kind of what you’re here. I’m sure you can always take me on, right?”

“Of course.” Rainbow’s left eyebrow twitched. “As long as you don’t use magic.”

Twilight laughed involuntarily.

Not joining her, Rainbow frowned. “You did nail me down in mid air once, y’know?”

“Oh?” Twilight squeezed her eyes, trying to remember...

“Right! I remember! Yeah, well, I was stressed out at that time, you know that. My letter-”

“Yes,” Rainbow interrupted her, “I know. So, what’s stopping you from doing something even worse after you let that thing mess you all up inside?”

“That thing is a phoenix, Rainbow.”

“Meh. It can’t understand me, right?”

“Probably not.”

Rainbow cast Peewee a nervous glance.

“Alright. So, once he messes you all up, who’s to say you don’t freeze me up again... and then start... dunno, something... dunno... something... something crazy, alright?”

“Well, for one, everything connecting to Peewee has done to me so far has been the opposite of crazy. He does everything he can to help us. And it’s not like I haven’t connected to him before. I’ve had sessions every day for a while now. It’s just that this will be the last one.”

“Uhu...”

A pause. Twilight took a sip of her tea.

“Can I open the window?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll stay here, you do your thing, and if I see you going crazy, I’m outta here.”

“... sure. As long as you pick me up and get me to the hospital if I’m breaking down or something.”

Rainbow nodded. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

The pegasus spat on her hoof, holding-

“Uw! Rainbow, we’re inside! Can’t we just Pinkie Promise instead?”

“Come on, Twilight! Pinkie Promise is for promises. We are making a pact.”

Twilight’s eyes flickered from the hoof, which was in mild danger of leaking, down to the floor.

“If I do this, do you promise to wash that afterwards?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Twilight nodded, spitting onto her right hoof. “Hold it,” she said after their bump, summoning a tissue.

“Don’t try this with Rarity,” she said once all saliva was removed. “Okay. Ready now?”

“Hold on.” Rainbow retook her position next to the window. “Ready.”

“Rainbow, this is probably going to take over an hour before I’m finished. The Daring Do books are downstairs, in the Adventure section under ‘Y’. Better get them early.”

“Sure.”

“Also, if somepony comes in, please tell them to come back later.” This had happened before, despite the ‘closed’ sign hanging outside. Back then, she had simply interrupted her sessions, but this time...

Twilight gulped.

“Alright,” she murmured, more to herself than to her friend, “here goes.”

It took less time than she had expected.

Near the end, the nature of her memories notably changed, becoming more blurry, less distinct. She wasn’t able to recall exactly where her guilt was coming from, she merely traced it down by instinct. At some point, she suddenly realized how little attention she was paying to the pain, as if it had become a mere afterthought, even though it was as intense as ever.

She must have been two, or three years old at the time of her final memory; all she had done to pin it down was to summon the image of a chair in her old living room, and that constant tick, tock, tick, tock of her old watch... which still hung on the wall in her parent’s room, at least if they hadn’t taken it down...

Suddenly, it was over. Twilight took a long, panting breath, enjoying the absence of pain as she regained awareness of her surroundings. A pile of comic books, and some regular ones too, were stacked up in a neat pile beside a stool which Rainbow, who seemed to have been mindful enough to treat the library’s property with adequate care, must have brought from the kitchen. She still had her gaze stuck in one, apparently unaware of what had taken place just two yards away.

Twilight looked around. The room was still in one piece, and the ground hadn’t begun to rotate or break away. No sudden insights had popped up in her mind as her journey had ended, and Peewee was still acting normally, flapping his wings in a way which usually indicated that he was hungry.

It was probably time to be disappointed.

“I’m finished,” she said calmly, causing Rainbow’s head to jerk upwards.

“Nothing happened, I don’t think.”

“You’re okay?”

Twilight nodded.

“Oh.” Rainbow closed the comic, putting it on top of the pile. “Cool, I guess. And now?”

“I don’t know. I was...” She suppressed a sigh. “Er, I was hoping something special would happen, I think. But...”

“Hey, at least you haven’t gone crazy.”

“Yeah.” Twilight nodded, as much to assure herself as to answer to Rainbow Dash. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“So...”

Twilight shrugged. “Wanna stay for a bit longer?”

“Uh... don’t take this the wrong way, Twilight. Your library is cool and all, but I’ve been sitting still for waay too long. It’s been, what, two hours?” She got off her stool, stretching her limbs. “I really gotta fly, y’know? If you’re sure you’re okay...”

Twilight nodded.

“... then I think I’m gonna be off for today.”

“Right. Thanks a lot for your help, I know making you sit and watch isn’t, well...”

“Yeah.” Rainbow grinned. “But s’all good. Smell ya later.”

Twilight nodded. “Bye.”

Absent-mindedly, she lifted up the book-pile, carrying it downstairs. A part of her was still waiting for something dramatic to happen, but she wasn’t expecting it. And indeed, the rest of the afternoon passed by with no incident relating to her studies, and so did the following two days. She had tried connecting to the phoenix again a couple of times, but now it was just like walking through an abandoned landscape: wide and empty.

On Tuesday, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Twilight spent some time together in town. Afterwards, as they passed Sugarcube Corner on the way home, Applejack headed south to Sweet Apple Acres central, while Fluttershy and her headed east to the pegasus’ cottage. Fluttershy was still taking sessions, and Twilight was aiming for some private time to talk a bit about them, outside the context of the library.

When they passed the second-last block of buildings at the edge of town, something unusual slid into her field of vision. Confused at first, Twilight could only blink, ready to write it off as a strange hallucination, expecting it to go away momentarily.

It didn’t.

Twilight felt a chill running down her neck. Cautiously, she took a few more steps towards it, Fluttershy by her side. Her jaw slowly dropped as she realized what she was seeing.

In the midst of the alley, at a place she had passed a hundred times before, stood a black spiral tower.

Author's Note

I... don't have a good excuse for the massive delay. I developed a really sudden, really unexpected, and really frustrating anxiety with this story that doesn't seem to make very much sense even to myself, but it still happened. I apologize to everyone who has been let down.

One thing which bears mentioning is that, since uploading the previous chapter (gosh it's been long!), I have learned the unsettling truth that our species' fate is likely going to be decided in a few decades. This has nothing to do with the story, but it is the most important thing in the known universe since humanity's inception, so I feel obligated to mention it anyway (plus it doesn't exactly speed up writing progress). See my latest blog post for details, point #1.

Shoutout to EverfreePony, who is partially responsible for FINALLY getting me back on track.