Starlight’s eyes were fixed on the crystal floor. Just on the edge of her vision, she could see the tips of Twilight’s front hooves. And what stern hooves they were. Cautiously, she lifted her gaze, trailing up the young alicorn’s body until she saw her face. Her stern looking face.

She gulped.

Twilight only moved her lips to speak, her jaw firmly in place. “Do you know how I feel, Starlight?” she asked.

Her stern eyes… her ears, flat against her head… that slight twitch of her hindlegs… it all emanated a strong aura of disappointment, with a smidgen of anger lacing it.

The debris all around them didn’t help matters.

Starlight tried looking up, but she quickly lowered her head when she met eyes with Twilight. “D-disa—”

“Dissatisfied, discontented, disgruntled, disillusioned, disappointed! Yes,” Twilight said, her tone leaving no doubt about the sincerity of her words. “Why do you think I feel that way?”

“Because of how I acted.”

“And what was wrong with the way you acted?”

Despite wanting really hard to grimace, Starlight did her best to keep her face relaxed. She hated when Twilight did that obvious question thing, because it always made her feel like a child.

Then again, she could hardly imagine even the most ill-behaved foal doing what she just did, so perhaps she should just suck it up and take it.

“It’s… it’s not okay to harm ponies,” Starlight replied, forcing out every word as if she was pulling thorns out of her flesh. “Either physically or emotionally, it's not… it’s not what a friend would do.”

Speaking of friends, she had to remember to thank Trixie for taking everypony home in her wagon. She also needed to remember to apologise to everypony afterwards. As soon as they were feeling okay. And if they even felt like seeing her, that is... Part of her wondered what caused them all to start twitching like that, but she had been too busy cackling maniacally at the time to really—

Her thoughts came to an abrupt stop when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She almost flinched, but the tenderness with which Twilight touched her made her feel… well, not as scared as before.

Starlight looked up to fully meet Twilight’s gaze. The earlier sternness was gone from the alicorn’s eyes, replaced by a glint of kindness. She could see her lips were no longer strained into a thin line, but rather offered the barest of smiles.

“I’m glad you can see that, Starlight. Being able to recognise and accept our shortcomings is the first step to improving and believe me, you haven’t disappointed in that regard,” Twilight said, her words soft, but sincere. Starlight allowed herself to smile back at her mentor.

“That being said,” Twilight continued, removing her hoof from Starlight’s shoulder, “you did go overboard. So… I’m sorry. After this, the Risk set is going onto the top shelf and it’s staying there. I hope this helps you learn your lesson.”

With that, Twilight lit up her horn, grabbed the Risk box, turned around, and walked out of the dilapidated room.

She grimaced. Part of her thought Twilight was overreacting. The other part remembered Big Mac crying and realised how lucky she was to get away with just a light scolding.

Starlight sighed and took in her surroundings. The warning signs had been there when she took control of Saddle Arabia, but she supposed it was too late to stop it once the Crystal Empire was hers.

Her justified wallow in self-pity was interrupted by the sound of steps coming into the room.

“Uh… hey, Starlight.”

She looked over her shoulder and saw Spike coming towards her with a cautious smile.

“Hi, Spike…” Starlight mumbled, somewhat surprised by the gloom in her tone.

The little dragon shuffled towards her. Under different circumstances she would find it funny how his short legs made him wobble a bit when he tried to walk slowly. Right now, though, she didn’t feel like laughing.

Once he was standing next to her, he looked up at her, but didn’t say anything. She half-expected he would. Anything. A show of pity, a snide remark, an accusation, a confirmation of suspicion. She’d even take a “You suck, Glimmer!” if it meant the silence wouldn’t stretch for longer.

Her thoughts halted when she felt Spike tugging at her hoof. She looked down and saw him smiling.

“Come with me,” he said.

A denial was already on her lips when she saw the hopeful look he had. She didn’t really feel like going anywhere—not to mention Twilight probably expected her to clean up the game room, even if she hadn’t said it—but since there was nothing else she would rather do… there was no reason to turn him down. Silly Spike.

She noticed his smile was losing strength the longer she took to reply, so she didn’t make him wait anymore. “Sure.”

His smile turned wide again, and she tried to reciprocate.

A short and somewhat slow walk later, they got to the kitchen. The trek there was silent, with only the aura of her warranted self-loathing permeating the air around them, drowning every attempt at conversation that could’ve taken place. Not that Spike seemed to care. The little dragon walked with a spring to his step, still guiding her by the hoof through the still somewhat unfamiliar corridors of the castle.

Starlight found that she appreciated the gesture.

The pair walked into the kitchen, the last rays of sunlight bathed the room in a warm orange tint that nonetheless failed to thaw that uncomfortable chill nestled somewhere deep in her chest.

“What are we going to do in the kitchen, Spike?” she asked.

“Well, Pinkie Pie always says pastries make her feel happy, so I thought we could bake something to lift your spirits.” Spike spoke with such an earnest tone she didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t think that worked if you weren’t a pony composed of equal parts sugar and confetti. Before she could reply, however, Spike’s expression turned sheepish and he quickly started talking again, “Plus, I was the one who left the Ogres and Oubliettes material at Sweet Apple Acres, so I guess it’s my fault we ended up playing Risk.”

Starlight looked at Spike, the dragon was twiddling his thumbs over his belly, looking somewhat remorseful. He wasn’t seriously going to try and take some of the blame for what had just happened, was he?

Silly, silly Spike…

“Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Spike replied animatedly. “I’ll get the ingredients out, you find a mixing bowl, a spatula, and a whisk.”

With that, he turned around and headed for the pantry. Starlight blinked but quickly shook her head and started looking for the requested implements.

The whisk and spatula were quick to find, and in a flash, they were laying on the countertop. The metal bowl proved to be more temperamental. It was stuck between other pots and pans on the lowest shelf of the cabinet under the sink and Starlight was sure there was probably a smaller bowl inside of it, judging by the way it rattled when she tried to pull it free. Of course there was yet another pot further back that made all the pots and pans an bowls fit so tightly she couldn’t really take out the one she needed without pulling out half of everything else, and what was the point of having such a large kitchen if you were just going to have cabinets and drawers overflowing like a—

Starlight took a deep breath.

Calm down, Starlight. It’s just a dumb bowl, don’t let it get to you.

With far less enthusiasm than she had entered the kitchen—which was not much to begin with—Starlight sighed and teleported the bowl out and onto the countertop next to the whisk and spatula.

“Ah, great! We’re all set,” Spike said.

She turned around to see him walk towards her with wobbly steps. She couldn’t see his face behind the pile of ingredients he carried, but she could still hear his smile. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a bit contagious.

“So…” she trailed off, eyeing the flour, eggs, and butter Spike deposited on the countertop. “What are we making?”

“Ohohoho~! Just wait and see, Starlight. I guarantee you’ll like it!” he replied, stepping back and snapping his claws and making finger guns at her.

She felt the corners of her lips tremble upwards. “Okay, then. Keep your secrets.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Spike said, turning around to organise the ingredients.

Flour, sugar, butter, eggs, some stuff in containers she couldn’t identify. It did seem like a cake, though, and she wouldn’t say no to it.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Crack two eggs and add another two egg yolks. Add three tablespoons of sugar and whisk. I’ll get started on the chocolate and butter.”

Starlight did as instructed. She was sure she’d heard that you weren’t supposed to hit the egg against the edge of the bowl. Not only could the pieces of the shell go inside the egg and crack the yolk, but you could get some of the residue from the shell itself into the bowl. There were some things you didn't want in your food, and eggs did come from the butt of a chicken, after all.

Once all eggs were in the bowl, she added the sugar and started whisking. It was a monotonous action, just swirling the whisk, making sure the yellow of the yolks turned into a more mellow, batter-like colour. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Spike letting out a thin green flame over a small ceramic container filled with butter and dark chocolate and started mixing it with the spatula.

“I’m done here. I think…” Starlight said.

“Great! We just have to mix these and then add the flour, a pinch of salt, and a dash of vanilla.” Spike grabbed the possibly still really hot container with his claws.

“With all the mystery around it, I don’t think these will be plain chocolate cakes, will they?”

“Of course not, Starlight, we’re making something special here.” Spike hummed as he used the spatula to pour all the butter chocolate mixture in the bigger bowl. “Can you sift some flour and cocoa powder? I already measured the amounts.”

Starlight nodded and got to work. It took her a moment to realise that, over the past five or so minutes, she’d started to feel calmer. Those odd feelings of guilt and shame were still there, but they felt like background noise rather than the overwhelming force it had been before.

She supposed the mechanical actions made it easy to engage on a basic level. It gave her something at which she could aim her attention. She’d hardly call it therapeutical, but perhaps it did give her focus. Focus. Perhaps… rather than just focusing on the bad things, she should focus on what she could do.

Her laughter surprised even herself. Who would have thought she could run out of self-contempt? Spike had a satisfied smirk on his face. He said he wanted to lift her spirits, and he had certainly made her feel better. If only a little bit.

“Alright, keep mixing. I’m going to butter the ramekins,” Spike said, stepping back and walking towards the cabinets at the other end of the kitchen.

“You'll do the what?”

Spike was now walking towards her with a large ceramic container and several smaller ones. “Ramekins!” he repeated.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard. What are those?”

He picked up one of the smaller cups, holding it between his thumb and index finger, and gave it a little twist. “It’s like a one-serving container.”

“What’s with the name?”

Spike shrugged as he filled the larger container with a bit of water. “I heard it comes from Prench. Something about a cheese dish made in a small mold and then baked, but even that one comes from old Germane warrior sheep’s cooking traditions, which I’m sure come from something else entirely.”

Starlight blinked. “Okay, then. Are you Twilight morphed into Spike?”

“Heh… nah, you’d be getting a lecture on the evolution of cooking traditions of Old Equestria if that was the case.”

They laughed again. Not a full belly laugh, but a small, almost demure smile. It was… comfortable.

“Okay, ramekins buttered. Pour some of the mix into them. I’ll heat the water.”

Starlight gave the dark brown batter one last swirl and used her magic to lift a portion large enough to fill the silly foreign ceramic thingie without risking it overflowing. As she filled them, she couldn’t help but feel curious about the cooking method. Why was Spike heating the water with his fire? What did the sheep use instead of a dragon? Wait, they came up with the container, not the recipe. This was just confusing. Curse that little dragon and his secrecy!

“Alright, all ready for the oven!” Spike exclaimed, taking the filled ramekins and submerging them in the lukewarm water. With that, he turned around and put it in the oven.

Starlight walked towards Spike and sat next to him, looking into the warm orange light. “Okay, I could only be more confused if we started playing music while the cakes baked, so spill. What did we just make?”

Spike shot her a grin and a sidelong glance. “Lava cakes!”

“You’re not going to pour molten gems in them, are you?” she asked.

“Nah, melting gems ruins the flavour. These are called lava cakes because the centre is still all gooey once it’s done cooking, that’s why you’re supposed to put them in water, it helps achieve that texture. It’s like a chocolate pudding surrounded by a layer of chocolate brownie.”

She was silent for a few seconds as she imagined the little cakes oozing chocolate from deep inside. A pleasant warmth sparked somewhere between her heart and stomach. Was this how Pinkie Pie felt all the time?

“You’re smiling,” Spike said. His voice was even and measured.

“Huh? Uh… I guess so,” she replied. At that, Spike’s mouth morphed into a huge grin. “What? Is my smile that contagious?”

He shrugged. “I’m just happy I could cheer you up.”

Starlight felt herself warm up in an instant. Wouldn’t the cakes burn if the oven was so hot? Then again, she figured Spike would know what he was doing.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Starlight rested her head on top of Spike’s. His spines brushed against her mane, but she didn’t pay it any mind. It was comfortable.

“Thanks, Spike.”

She heard him giggle and shuffle. She was about to ask if she was making him uncomfortable, but her thoughts were soon dissipated when she felt his arm go around her neck and his claw rest on her shoulder.

“No problem, pal.”

Her cheeks felt tingly. It’d been a while since she’d smiled this much. Not that her few months in Ponyville hadn’t been filled with joy, but… she wasn’t sure why it was. Maybe it had been the respite from the rather odd day. Maybe it was nice to do something different for a change. Maybe Spike was just damned good company.

She looked into the oven at the little masses of chocolate in the fancy foreign containers. She didn’t know how they’d turn out, but she’d had fun making them, and perhaps that was enough.

“Hey, would you lend me a hoof cleaning up the game room after we’re done?”

“Eh, I was planning to eat my lava cake and watch you clean.”

“Tch… jerk.”

Despite their ribbing, neither moved away. At that moment, Starlight felt happy.

And she realised that was all that mattered.

Author's Note

Chocolate lava cakes are so delicious, and relatively easy to make! Try it yourself! Also, apparently some people put a piece of chocolate inside a chocolate cake and call that a chocolate lava cake. Don't be like those people.

I can't believe I managed to finish Accismus. It's been so long and I lost hope some times, but it's amazing to finally complete it.

There are so many people I want to thank. The people of the WriteOff Association for offering feedback on the beta version of this story, all those years ago. The refined gentlemen of the FiMFiction threads over at /mlp/, who were never shy on calling me out for my nonsense. Aquel who was also working on a Sparlight story way back in the day and hopefully hasn't abandoned it.

And just the biggest of thanks to CarcinoGeneticist for being a pal during all the years it took me to finally wrap this up, pointing out all the little inconsistencies, faulty assumptions and general mistakes I made. And not even once lamenting the lack of Sparity! Please go check him out, read his stories, upvote, comment, and favourite all of them so he can hopefully get motivated to get back in the writing game.

And as cheesy as it is to say it, thanks to you for believing in the story, for reading along Starlight's constant bouts of self doubt, and for putting up with my very unprofessional schedule.

I hope you had fun.

See you in the future.