Thirty Minute Pony Stories

Twilight Sparkle looked at her small assistant, sleeping in his basket. With that, she was hit with a question.

“Why?” she whispered to herself. “Why do we exist? Why do we live, to have it cut off so short?” To her right was the letter. The letter that told her Applejack’s life was crashing down, crashing at a rapid rate. Trotting down to her lab, she carefully removed a thin layer of her own skin. A bit of her blood. A file of her horn. A snippet of her mane. “I have to know,” she whispered, burning the mane into ash with the skin and horn. Mixing the ash with her blood.

She magically lifted the small petri dish. Dropped it into the vial. Taking an eye dropper, collecting a small amount. Testing it. The number on the screen.

“Forty-two.” Repeating all the actions with Spike, being thankful he was such a sound sleeper. The same thing. “Forty-two.” Magically immobilizing Owlisious. Testing her. “Forty-two.” Lifting books off shelves, seeing what page they fell on. “Forty-two.”

The date the letter had arrived. “The forty-second day of the year.”