Splitting aMid the Night

A defiant light, blocked only by stubborn eyelids. A distant scent of flowers, completely unknown. Comfort, far from the crumbled mess of sheets that she knew. Most of all, breath – another pony, spreading warmth, wings wrapped around her. Solace, undeserved.

No! This is not your destiny!

Nh. Have I been up for hours now?

Certainly not conscious.

Midnight turned to face the wall, curled up to keep any warmth she had. The day could wait for her.

I saw a world much brighter than this one. One without my isolation.

At least get upright, would you kindly? Your body produces enough heat by itself.

Midnight climbed, out of the blankets, into sitting on the bed's edge. As she glanced into the mirror, her own reflection doubled. Then reality followed suit. Though she sat on the bed a second time, that copy made no bends into the fabric.

This is you then.

Also a part of you. Others would be at least surprised.

After I have seen the worst of the world, what more is there to see? When even affection is denied?

You are not yet alone, princess.

Her copy's – Noon's – horn shone and carried the brush towards them. She carried it through Midnight's mane when her own hooves were lazy to move.

There is too much beauty in you to let it hide away.

Midnight endured the treatment. She accepted it.

What value has beauty?

Enough, at least. You know you carry charm still.

Charm, without compassion? Without affection? What joy is there?

Love lends itself to those who choose to embrace it.

Or are forced into it. Who would be the target? One from my class? Emma? Goddess knows I never meet anyone else in the castle.

Perhaps. Times will come when your mind becomes forsaken, without a body to support it, when you would wish only for those physical pleasures you deny now.

How are you so certain? There is no afterlife.

Midnight looked to her copy. The copy looked back.

Death is different than you think it to be. I am the forbidden, the knowledge you refuse to have. The infinite holds much more, more than you wanted to comprehend if you could.

I should get up. Do... something. Who would know what.

You should not be here today. Visit another place. Far away.

What would it be? Danger? Calamity? Where to? Away from the castle, into the peasant valley below? There where the weather is still uncontrolled? I would not even have the funds to fuel a travel worthwhile.

Fate strings differently. You will not remain.

How late is it even? Ten?

The clock had to be lying. Midnight dashed to the window to make sure of that, but she caught the mail pony just leaving. Perhaps it could be true.

Was this your doing? I deserved more sleep.

Not entirely. Your future demands that you exit four seconds from now.

Midnight set down the brush and left the room. Before she could reach the stairs, she ran into her father. After dusting off and helping her up, he said, "It is early."

"Not a statement I expected out of you," she replied. "What is it? Do not tell me you changed the hallway paintings again!" Midnight looked over his shoulder. She could swear the picture of a violin-playing clown had changed since she had last seen it.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Last month. You do not like using stairs, do you." He turned back around and led her downstairs.

After some quick contemplation, she teleported down instead of putting herself at risk and walking. "Stairs killed my family."

"Uhm, certainly." Down in the office – some would call it a living room table full of paper – one of the stacks was much more in order than the others. It had to be something important. "The office wants me to travel to the coast for a few days, expenses paid. You could come along."

This is where destiny changes?

Fate, not destiny. That much is constant. He could have left without you, had you slept longer.

"When?" She walked past him and tried to find the answer on her own. The papers gave up little, though; They lacked the immaculate organisation of patient sheets. "You know I have shift on Thursday."

"From today, for some time. Until the job is done. Three or four days." His magic pulled forth a note giving all the details. To make the insult worse, it had been on top of the stack. "Your magic has become stronger, correct? You could return here on your own."

"Yes, I could. It would take a lot of power though. Too much to let me return within reasonable time." Her eyes ran down the note. They would have some lovely conditions, if they left soon. All of it would be on someone else's money.

Is this my destiny?

Do you not love him enough?

Yes.

"It could be done." She put the note back into its place. "I do not have many plans either way."

"We will use the train in two hours. Pack light." He scooped together a few papers and set them into a binder, then vanished in a flash.

Amateur.

He taught you that spell.

And I perfected it. He bleeds so much energy while using it.

Tuned it for efficiency. Increased speed. It became something more.

Grow and improve. That is the goal of all existence.

Midnight disappeared as well.

You stopped growing three years ago, did you not?

Two and a half.

What wears the body galvanises the soul.

What joy is there in boredom?

"I could literally walk that distance faster than this thing is driving." Midnight leaned against the window. The train gave another kick. She could swear it had slowed down yet again. The land outside refused to change, even though they had been going for two hours already.

Her father sat upright with all legs drawn in and eyes closed. He almost looked to be meditating. "You are looking at it wrong. You see it as wearing your body against time, but it is an opportunity to galvanise your soul."

Once upon a time, Midnight had learned to meditate, in some odd class together with her mother. She had never seen the use of it. She breathed through and tried to concentrate on the nothingness.

Cute. You are so much more. Focus for a moment on what is, what you could become.

Midnight's eyes were forced shut yet, after a moment, she saw more than ever. Galaxies passed and rose as matter broke down, a tiny platform in a stream of pure energy. It called. It wanted to be used, controlled, ruled. Reality itself would bend, not to mention space and time. On top of it all, just a silhouette from the power she used, was Midnight herself.

A gasp, a struggle for air. Midnight awoke lying flat on the train bench. "Did you rest well?" he asked.

"Had worse. That is all that counts." She climbed back into how she had been before. "Is this going to take much longer? I would much rather get it done and over."

He fumbled around in their luggage and folded a few papers. "When do you feel otherwise," said he with low breath.