Author's Note
It only took three years, but I now feel confident enough in my English to write stories again.
Please enjoy responsibly.
Redemption
Starlight Glimmer was a genius. Few ponies had successfully travelled in time, none of them had done it as expertly as she. Only her mentor, Twilight Sparkle, could be seen as a reliable contender.
All of that was about to change, Starlight was sure of it. At long last there had been a breakthrough in her private research, something that even Star Swirl the Bearded probably never thought of.
“So, what you’re saying is—” Twilight raised an eyebrow, obviously doubtful. “You’ve figured out how to travel between worlds?”
Starlight nodded, fighting to contain her enthusiasm.
Twilight read through Starlight’s scroll again, almost as if she wanted there to be an error. “Is this what all those all-nighters have led up to?”
Again, Starlight nodded.
“Isn't it an interesting concept? Once I figured that the spell I used for travelling back in time had free rotation around the sigma field, all I had to do was look for the next staggered conformation.” Starlight attempted to visualise her words; it came out as a highly awkward session of hoof-twiddling.
“Anyways, with some more modifications to the procedure, I could stabilise the isomeric vortex to allow sideways time-travelling. I-I’m sure you would’ve figured it too, Twilight.” Starlight looked away; even such a small white lie felt wrong. Luckily, Twilight seemed too captivated by the scroll to take any notice of what she said. “If my hypothesis is correct, we can use it to visit the present time in any alternate timeline. If you allow it, of course.”
“Maybe, it might work—” Twilight glanced between Starlight and the scroll. “But I'm afraid I can't let you do it.”
“W-What?” Starlight froze.
“Remember the last time you tried to tamper with time? Sorry, but you’ll have to shelve this project.”
Ponies who claimed lightning never struck twice were liars; Starlight had just received two massive bolts to the stomach. She slumped over and reluctantly took the scroll back from Twilight. In the blink of an eye, the world appeared to have been drained of all colour. Starlight's head spun in an attempt to process what her friend had said.
“B-But, I worked so hard!” She couldn't even bother to make eye contact with Twilight. “I-I just wanted to, you know, create something. Something beneficial, an opportunity to learn that isn't designed to hurt anypony.” Starlight mustered enough energy to look at Twilight, with tears appearing in her eyes. Her mentor started fidgeting in obvious discomfort, and her face took on a look of distress.
“I’m sorry, I didn't know it meant so much to you, Starlight.” Twilight scratched her chin for a moment until an idea seemed to spark in her head. “Maybe you could make a theoretical model to simulate the spell? It should be accurate enough to yield results, especially when constructed by somepony as skilled as you.” She might have attempted a reassuring smile, but Starlight was too busy staring into the floor to know. “Okay, erm, how about you send a probe through? You could get all the information without having to leave this room.”
“The spell can't be remotely cast, and I’ve yet to figure out how to affix it to nonliving matter.” Starlight shook her head. She was not even sure if either was possible at all. “Somepony would have to go through to use the spell on the other side. It's the only way.”
“Oh.” After a minute of what looked like deep internal conflict, Twilight sighed and gave Starlight a frustrated glare. “I could perhaps make an exception of sorts, in the name of research. You're not allowed to use this spell, not without supervision. It's too risky, I’m afraid.” She bit her lip, which created a moment of awkward silence. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, try it together? It seems like the safest solution, and I’d honestly be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit curious.” Starlight's ears perked; she could not believe what she just heard. She looked up, and their eyes met. Twilight, as usual, radiated with cautious optimism.
“R-Really?” Starlight blinked away a tear.
Twilight nodded, a small smile adorning her face.
“Thanks, Twilight. This... It means so much to me.” Without hesitation, Starlight began preparations for the spell. Results were, of course, only hypothetical so far. The very idea of travelling sideways in time had taken weeks to realise, and in the end it all depended on whether Starlight's highly personal idea of time was even close to the real deal.
Then again, she was a genius.
Starlight Glimmer was bad at preparations. Impulses and emotions were far easier to act upon. The best example, as expected, was her enslavement of an entire village due to a childhood tantrum. But ponies could change for the better. That was something Twilight had taught her. Clearly, she still had a long way to go.
“Do we really need all this stuff?” Starlight adjusted her saddlebags a third time. They were perfectly packed and balanced, as expected from Twilight. However, weight was another beast entirely, and she was sure her saddlebags weighed in the double digits. “What did you even pack, Twilight?”
“Oh, you know, the essentials.” Twilight opened her saddlebags to show. “Notebooks, quills, ink, emergency provisions, the most important stuff.”
Starlight opened her own bags to check; one contained a veritable orchard’s worth of apples, the other enough ink to make a colossal squid jealous. Her reaction was to deadpan at Twilight, whose face grew a few shadess more crimson.
“Maybe I overdid it a little.”
Before Starlight had a chance to agree, her saddlebags had been unpacked and discarded in a corner.
“We can do a more extensive trip next time, let's just see if there is anything to research on the other side at all. Anyways—” Twilight fiddled with her hooves. “What were you planning to see altered? Please pick a somewhat significant event, so it's easy to see the difference. Not something like 'what if I forgot to buy groceries last week?’.” A foalish giggle escaped her. “Oh, but don't make it too major or dangerous, I could use with a calm adventure, for once.”
“I-I, well.” Starlight found herself at a loss for words. “It’s, uh, kind of a personal thing for me.” Twilight didn't need to know, that could only cause trouble. “Nothing too big, I promise. I just want to see what could’ve happened if I’d made some different choices. We’ll only have to be gone for a couple minutes, tops.” It was wrong to lie, but Starlight had to see what could have been. In any case, her curiosity was unbearable. “Anyways, let's begin. This should be easy.”
A stroke of nervosity coursed through Starlight, like she was about to do something very impulsive and foolish. Against better judgement, she dismissed the feeling. perhaps she would have picked a better parallel time to visit.
Starlight Glimmer was an idiot. She should have seen it coming from a mile away. Ponies like her should never be left unchecked. All of the things Twilight and her friends had done for her came into a new light. They had truly saved Starlight from herself. Ponies could change, she concluded, but not on their own.
“Uh, Starlight.” Twilight gasped, her eyes pinpricks. “We’re still in my castle, same room, even. Only we’re someworld else, right? Wh-What exactly did you change?” A turquoise bolt of energy interrupted Twilight, but she dispelled the bolt with a quick barrier. On the bed normally reserved for Starlight, a Starlight Glimmer sat. She had a severe case of bed head, and there was enough sleep in her eyes to be seen from across the room.
But most importantly, she was another Starlight Glimmer. Starlight looked at Glimmer, her duplicate, shocked. It was like she saw herself in the mirror, a very angry and malicious mirror. Glimmer glared back at Starlight, but was quick to turn her attention back to Twilight.
“Twilight Sparkle? I reformed you ages ago.” Glimmer sent another bolt across the room, but it fizzled away against Starlight’s barrier. “And who’s this imposter? Is that your plan, an invisible revolution? She doesn't even look anything like me.” Glimmer unleashed a beam of light in Twilight's direction, colliding with Twilight’s brilliant cherry beam. Starlight’s coat felt like it boiled, as if she was sitting right next to a roaring bonfire.
“Now’s a good time to start talking.” Twilight gritted her teeth, beads of sweat started to form on her forehead. “What did you change, Starlight?” The dueling ponies appeared equal, with neither gaining an advantage over the other. Sparkles showered across the floor, black streaks carving themselves into the sleek crystal.
“I-I, I just—” Starlight could barely bear herself to speak properly. “I wanted to see what would happen if I defeated you back in the village. I-I was curious, how much you changed me.” She took a cautious step backwards, it looked like a nonexistent breeze had grabbed hold of Twilight's mane.
“You did what?” Twilight's eyes thinned, her tone went sour enough to dissolve the toughest of metals. “Is that what you wanted to know? After everything we've been through, everything you've learned?” The air around her crackled, a notable whiff of ozone arose from the lavender alicorn. She clenched her eyes shut. It almost looked like steam seeped through her nose with every breath. “You lied to me, you said it wasn’t going to be anything major! How could you? Don’t you trust me? I trusted you, friends trust each other! Aren’t we supposed to be friends?”
“N-No, it's not like that.” Starlight took another step back. She saw a new side of Twilight emerge, and she wasn't a fan. “Y-You’re in a terrible spot right now, and it’s kind of my fault, Twilight. B-But I was just curious. I wanted to see—” She looked up just as Twilight reopened her eyes. Two crimson pools fixated on Starlight, they were anything but friendly. “A-Are you okay, Twilight? P-Please, I just wanted to see if I could change without you.”
“Are you happy? Did everything pan out like you hoped?” Twilight appeared unfazed by her duel with Glimmer, all her focus aimed at Starlight. “Is this what you wanted, what you always dreamed of?” Her aura intensified, the colour shifting towards a fiery orange hue.
“N-No—” An explosion engulfed the room. Twilight's beam conflagrated into a roaring pillar of fire and brimstone. It overpowered Glimmer’s magic in an instant and nailed her against the wall. Starlight, meanwhile, found herself thrown backwards head-first into a table. Everything disappeared, save for an intense heat causing the ends of her mane to curl up and ignite. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Twilight turning to face her limp body, her crimson eyes filled with pure wrath.
If only she had not been such an idiot.
Starlight Glimmer was a bad pony. Not only did she have her share of past crimes, but she had also dragged one of her best friends into trouble as well. Starlight was impulsive and rash, and it always ended up with somepony getting hurt. However, for some reason nopony seemed to punish her for it.
“Glimmer, can you please repeat after me?” The masculine voice was familiar, but Starlight had trouble identifying it. Everything was a blur; she could only make out fuzzy splotches of colour. “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” Starlight blinked a couple of times. The haze had started to dissipate, though it was still difficult to think clearly.
“T-The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. What’s going on?” Corners appeared in Starlight's field of view, her sight recovering at a slow but steady pace. The white mass that addressed her shifted around, becoming more pony-like by the second.
“All right, Glimmer seems to be okay. Let's help her up.” The white mass, standing beside other coloured masses, pulled Starlight out of what used to be a table. Once blood had returned to her head, she could see everything again.
The room looked like a warzone. Everything that had not been nailed to something lay in various piles along the walls, what had been nailed down was reduced to nothing but charred remains. Even the crystal walls and floor, which even Starlight would have troubles denting, had sizeable chunks ripped out and big scorch marks imprinted. Nothing seemed to remain of Glimmer, save for immolated ash fused to the wall where Twilight had pinned her. The air was thick with ozone and soot, and every other breath forced Starlight to cough.
Twilight herself laid limp on the floor, chained, and surrounded by what seemed like soldiers. She must have exhausted herself, Starlight concluded. Lucky for herself, it seemed like everypony thought she was their version of herself. If anything, perhaps it could buy some time.
“D-Double Diamond?” Starlight turned to the white pony on her right. It was very much Double Diamond from the village, only still brainwashed. “What are you doing here?” She froze up, realising that her cutie mark was uncovered. Her head rushed to recall whether her doppelganger’s cutie mark had been covered or not, but nothing came to her.
“Forgive us, Glimmer. Twilight Sparkle somehow managed to bypass all of our alarms. It wasn't until the fighting started that we noticed.” Double shifted uneasily in place; everything about him screamed shame. “It won't happen again, I promise. What's important right now is that you’re okay. Can you stand?”
Starlight let out a relieved sigh; at least Double acted like she was her evil version. She nodded as the two ponies supporting her stepped away. For a second she hobbled, then everything seemed to stabilise. “I-Is she alive?” Starlight gestured towards Twilight's still body.
One of the soldiers bowed down and put his ear against the alicorn’s chest. A few seconds passed, then he nodded. Starlight let out a sigh of relief: There was still hope. “Detain this one somewhere safe, then inform me when she wakes up. I, uh, want to interrogate her personally.”
Something resonated within Starlight as she spoke. It was a malicious shudder, and it spread through her body like ice. Even worse, it was a familiar, even comfortable, resonance.
“Of course, Glimmer. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Double nodded eagerly, it provoked memories of the village, where Starlight always had known best.
“Yes, get somepony to clean this up.” It felt natural to command ponies around again. As much as she hated to admit it, Starlight had missed having ponies do as she wished.
Of course Starlight had missed it, bad ponies like her loved undeserved attention and power.
Starlight Glimmer was a brilliant actor. Her entire time in the village had been one big farce, nopony had suspected a thing until her fake mark had been wiped off in front of everypony. A feat like that was anything but small, and she seemed to have no issues impersonating the late Glimmer. Perhaps it was a simpler task than Starlight gave herself credit for, since she and Glimmer technically were the same pony.
The true baptism by fire would be to keep the charade going when interrogating Twilight. Starlight’s stomach turned at the thought of hurting her friend, but at the same time she had to convince her subjects that Twilight was her enemy. Hopefully Twilight would understand.
“Glimmer.” Double Diamond gave a quick wave. “Twilight Sparkle has woken up, I was going to escort you to the cell.”
Starlight rolled over onto her belly, then discarded the quilt into a pile on the floor. She waded through an ocean of pillows and hopped off the end of her bed. Time had turned into a mush; maybe an hour had passed since Starlight had managed to get Twilight caught, maybe more.
“Right. I think she and I need to have a little talk.” Starlight trotted over to the mirror, just to give her mane a quick brush. Out of curiousity, she looked through the various drawers, hoping to learn a thing or two about her late counterpart. They were littered with her favourite conditioners, hoof polish, and countless other beauty products
Starlight slid a drawer open, and found something that turned her blood to ice: a stencil of her fake cutie mark, complete with a jar of black makeup and an unused brush. The realisation hit her like a brick: Double Diamond must have known.
“J-Just a second, Double.” Once Starlight had successfully forced her curls into a satisfactory shape, she joined Double and let him lead her through the castle. She kept a watchful eye on him, just to be sure.
Everything felt alien, somehow. Starlight knew the castle and could find her way around, yet everything felt different. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. After all, it was a different Twilight’s castle, even if in some sense it was identical. “Where did you lock her up? I don't recall there being any dungeons.” She paused to think. “Or any lockable doors, come to think of it.”
“We figured out a makeshift solution, Glimmer.” Double stopped before two guards in front of a door. A door that, if Starlight recalled correctly, led to one of the many bedrooms that were scattered throughout Twilight’s castle. “It’s not the most secure solution, but as long as her horn and wings are suppressed it should work.”
“Your ‘makeshift solution’ was to block the door with a bureau?” Starlight raised an eyebrow. It was almost comical that such a primitive solution had kept an alicorn princess from escaping. Double’s cheeks grew bright red, he looked away and mumbled an almost incomprehensible excuse.
Starlight rolled her eyes. “Whatever. As long as it works, I guess.” With the help of her magic, the bureau moved to the side. The two guards observed Starlight under silence, making no move to aid her with the bureau. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to resemble riot police more than proper royal guards. It was all practical and nothing else, something she found oddly charming.
The first thing Starlight noticed upon entering the room was the absence of light. All candles had been removed, probably by her guards. Not that Twilight seemed to be in any position to light anything up herself. An arcane orb of turqoise light emanated from Starlight’s horn, perched itself in the ceiling and cast a cold, almost sterile light across the room. Reflections danced in the steel harness that held Twilight’s wings in place. If Starlight had not known what it was, she might have mistaken it for an impractical prosthetic.
Twilight turned her head, two disheartened violet eyes fixating on Starlight. They gleamed slightly upon recognising Starlight, though it was quick to fade.
“H-Hey.” Starlight found herself at a loss for words. Her friend's melancholy was infectious. “A-Are you okay? D-Did they do anything to you?” She attempted to muster a kind smile; a difficult task, considering her entire face had gone numb. “This is all my fault, isn't it?” A trickle of sweat crept its way down Starlight's forehead, something about Twilight felt foreboding.
“No, no.” Twilight turned away from Starlight, she let out a disgruntled sigh. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn't have trusted you in the first place.”
Starlight deflated like a balloon. She tried to protest, but no arguments came to her.
Twilight stood up and stretched. The faint smell of electricity struck Starlight as her friend shook her mane. “I gave you a chance. I thought you’d changed, I really did.” A single tear hit the floor, followed by a steady drip. “Guess I'm not that good at friendship after all.” She sat back down on the bed, still facing away from Starlight. A faint, apathetic laugh escaped Twilight's lips.
“I-I take it you’re still upset.” Starlight received a glance from Twilight. For a moment their eyes met, she could swear something red swirled through her friend's violet irides.
“What makes you think that?” There was a tone to Twilight's voice that Starlight was unfamiliar with. “The fact that, due to your selfishness, I’m chained and crippled, while you get to play goddess-empress of Equestria?” Pure, unadulterated venom saturated everything she said. “Yes, maybe I’m a tiny bit upset. Just a tiny bit.”
Genuine concern rose within Starlight. “This isn’t like you, Twilight.” She took a step back. Whomever the lavender pony on the bed was, it was not the Twilight she knew and loved. “I know you’re upset, but you don't have to be so hostile. I don't want this, this entire ruler thing. It's not me.” Starlight averted her eyes, unable to meet Twilight’s. A dejected sigh escaped her. “Not anymore...”
“Sure it isn't.” Twilight turned to Starlight. This time, there was no doubt her eyes shifted in red. She closed the distance between the two, almost to the point where their noses touched. “Please, unshackle me and let's head home. Or would you rather we stay a little longer in this perfect world of yours?” Twilight, at least her acrid side, knew exactly how to toy with Starlight's conscience.
“N-No.” Starlight took a step back. She pushed Twilight away with her magic. “You’re acting weird, Twilight, and it's my fault.” Twilight tilted her head in response, a coy smile crept onto her face. Starlight's horn lit up, an aggressive flare formed around it. “I abused your trust, and it brought out the worst in you.”
“So I’m going to make it up to you.”
Arcane power ripped through the air from Starlight’s horn and surged into Twilight. Her body flinched, but remained upright. The coy smile on her face changed to a look of shock and confusion.
“What are you—” Another blast struck Twilight square in the chest, this time, she fell backwards and landed on her back. Their eyes met again, but this time Twilight's radiated terror.
“I’m so, so sorry, Twilight.” Starlight blinked away a tear as she electrocuted her friend. “But this is a chance for redemption, I have to take it. All this, it’s just like the village, only on a larger scale. And, well...” The smell of ozone grew tangible, but Twilight was too crippled to strike back. Either she refused to scream, lacked the energy to, or Starlight managed to completely block it off. “I’m gonna have to stay in role for a little longer.
“Please forgive me.”
Starlight backed off and examined her work. Twilight, her best friend, lay before her like a discarded toy. The air still fizzled with electricity around her, and a fair number of bruises dotted her body. They stared at each other, Starlight's eyes brimming with tears, Twilight's with confusion and terror.
“Y-You—” Twilight was interrupted by Starlight as she cast the spell she was most famous for, or rather, infamous.
It was over in a heartbeat. All energy in Twilight seemed to seep away as her body collapsed on the floor. Starlight did the least she could, she placed her friend’s battered body on the bed and tucked her in. She looked at the jar with Twilight's cutie mark. Under different circumstances, it could have been Equestria’s most beautiful lamp. Stealing a cutie mark was such an easy thing to do, and she hated it.
Starlight Glimmer was a brilliant actor, too brilliant. She had gone too far in her role, and Twilight had been hurt for it.
Starlight Glimmer was a traitor. All the ponies, her ponies, in the parallel timeline trusted her. As far as they knew, she was the very same pony that had conditioned them to love her. She was their leader, the one they turned to in times of need. Of course, Starlight was nothing like that, or so she told herself.
Truth to be told, she had no plan to get herself and Twilight home, nor getting everypony their cutie marks back. For what it was worth, she had a rough idea of what she had to do, though not how to do it. Unfortunately, it probably required Starlight to betray the trust of everypony in the parallel timeline, and she was tired of telling lies.
“Double, there’s something I need to tell you.” Starlight gestured for him to come. “It’s important, and for your ears only.” Double joined her without question, like any of Starlight’s closest comrades. The two ventured to one of the many libraries in Twilight’s castle, walking into the psychology section.
“So, Glimmer.” Double scratched one of his ears. “You wanted to tell me something important? Is it about that cutie mark? You want me to drop it off at the vault?”
“Actually—” Starlight glanced over the jar, its contents cast a brilliant rose light around the room. Perhaps she could convince Double to help her. “This is going to sound really weird, but I’m not Starlight Glimmer.”
A needle dropped.
“I-I mean, I am Starlight Glimmer, but not the one you know. Kind of—” She stopped herself, feeling like what she was about to say made anything but sense. “I’m, uh, from a different reality. It’s complicated, but the short version is that me and my friend Twilight Sparkle, we’re friends in my timeline, tried travelling sideways in time. We, uh, ended up here and, eh, Twilight kind of immolated your Starlight Glimmer.” Starlight twiddled her hooves, she probably should have felt grief rather than embarrassment. Much to her surprise, Double made no attempt to take her down or sound the alarm.
“Well, what are you going to do, other Starlight?” Starlight's ears perked, she gave Double a puzzled look. “I figured you weren’t our Starlight from the start, it was pretty obvious. But that doesn’t matter—” Double paused to give Starlight a small smile. “You're Starlight, and Starlight is my comrade. It doesn't matter which Starlight you are, they're all equal in my eyes.”
“I, uh, wow. Thank you, Double.” Starlight almost took a step back in surprise. The other Glimmer had done a superb job with her subjects, perhaps too superb. “But this is wrong. You're saying that because I, er, she, turned you into this.” She shook her head, every minute made her more aware of how much Twilight and her friends have helped her.
An idea sparked in her head, a way for Starlight to truly fix her wrongdoings. “Double, I’m going, no, I have to fix what Glimmer did to you and Equestria. But I need your help.” Turquoise swirls snaked from her horn and constricted the jar with Twilight's cutie mark. Moments later, the streaks dissipated to reveal a mostly unchanged cutie mark and jar. The once rose constellation appeared dark purple, accented by small turquoise stars. Shadows in the library grew from a more aggressive, turquoise light emanating from the jar. It almost hurt to look at, but Starlight resisted the temptation to avert her eyes. “Take this to the cutie mark vault, I’d do it myself but I don't know where I, er, she put it.” She gave the jar to Double, who balanced it effortlessly on his back. “And, um, try not to shake it too much, don't want to bury you in a bucket.” Starlight attempted a reassuring smile, but it felt like a maniacal grin more than anything.
“Understood.” Double nodded, seeming to take the situation very calmly. “If you don't mind me asking, what's it going to do?” The jar continued its menacing pulsations.
“It's going to set things right.” Starlight let out a sigh. “That's all you need to know.” The cold, hard truth was that nopony would remember anything. As far as the inhabitants of the alternate timeline were concerned, Starlight Glimmer never existed.
“We're all equal before you.” Double saluted and exited the library, the jar balanced on his back as if had been bolted down. Starlight let out another sigh. She had actually taught them a catchphrase, a silly one at that.
What Starlight did was treason to her own old ideologies, but there were times when the ends could actually justify the means. She would happily become an enemy of the state if it meant the unmaking of a tyranny created by herself.
Starlight Glimmer was a hero. The ponies in the alternate timeline would never remember, but she had saved them from a tyranny they had been conditioned to accept. If anything, it was better that way. Starlight had grown to appreciate a certain degree of anonymity.
“I-I’m sorry, for everything.” Starlight sat at a safe distance from Twilight. The stench of electricity no longer permeated the air, and she seemed to have fallen into some kind of stoic state. No matter what Starlight said or did, Twilight showed no reaction at all. For all intents and purposes, it was like talking to a rock.
“Please...” Twilight turned her head and glanced at Starlight, looking positively abysmal. “Get out of my head, it hurts. I just want to go home, please.” Her breaths were strained, as if she had just finished a marathon.
“I-I can't—” Starlight knew exactly what happened to Twilight, unfortunately. “There's no dead mare’s grip, I-I never thought I'd have to stop mid-process.” Pricks of sweat formed on her forehead as she swallowed. “Y-You’ll have to endure. But, it should stop once your cutie mark returns.” She ran through the spell in her head, just to be sure. It did anything but reassure her. “I-I think, I hope so.”
“Y-You said you’d fix this.” Twilight rolled onto her back, her eyes locked with Starlight's. All colour seemed absent from them, her once vibrant violet eyes completely desaturated. Somehow, they managed to appear both pained and catatonic at the same time. “Was th-that a lie too, Sta—” Twilight flinched, as if somepony had kicked her. Once again their eyes met, this time all Starlight could see was calm compliance. “Is something wrong, Starlight? You seem a bit gloomy.”
“I-I’m fine, Twilight.” Starlight could barely meet Twilight's eyes; she was the same monster as when they had first met. “C-Could you sit here?” She patted on the bed right next to herself. “I need to be near somepony.” As expected, Twilight followed her commands without question. Starlight leaned on her friend, a disheveled sigh escaping her. Much to her surprise, Twilight leaned back. Starlight was not the one to complain; it was nice to be so close to somepony. “Y-You know, Twilight. When I remove somepony's cutie mark, I don't make them love me. I just suppress their negative emotions, and amplify the positive ones.” Twilight only mumbled in acknowledgement.
Starlight pushed her suddenly clingy friend away. “Y-You’re nuzzling me, Twilight.” Their eyes met. Something about Twilight seemed different than expected. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“I—” A loud crack interrupted Twilight. It reverbed through the castle and instantaneously shattered every breakable window. Without a second thought, Starlight threw herself onto Twilight and projected a barrier around the two.
Turquoise light perforated the walls, it was like a star had ignited at the heart of the castle. It was all according to Starlight's plan, she would be able to leave the alternate timeline with a good conscience. For a moment, she considered giving Twilight's memory a similar treatment. Perhaps she would be better off not remembering. A violet flash interrupted her train of thought, the signal that it was time to leave.
Starlight was a real hero. Not only had she defeated the villain, even if it had technically been herself, and Twilight was the one who had defeated her. She had liberated an entire population from oppression, even if it technically had been her own oppression. To top it all off she had saved the princess, even though she was the reason the princess had been caught in the first place.
It was close enough to proper heroism, she decided. Any complaints were to be taken up with her personally.
Starlight Glimmer was a haunted mare. Visions of her atrocities in the alternate time replayed in her dreams and left her sleepless. No matter what she did, rest had become unacheivable. Even the familiar, and admittedly very cosy, pillows of her own bed felt like rocks, and the sheets scratched her like sandpaper.
Ever since they came back, Twilight had been unwilling to discuss their misadventure. All she had done was forbid further usage Starlight's spell by anypony, ever. She had even written a letter to Princess Celestia about having the decree carved in stone somewhere.
Oddly enough, no punishment had come Starlight's way. She had expected to give at least one formal apology for her actions. Nevertheless, whenever she attempted to discuss the trip with Twilight, her friend had been quick to change the subject. It was like Twilight was doing everything she could to remove any memory that their trip ever took place.
“This is my fault, I have to fix it.” Starlight threw her sheets drenched in sweat to the floor. Her horn flared up, and Starlight apparated into Twilight's bedroom.
“S-Starlight? What are you doing in here?” Twilight sat up, her drowsy eyes wide with surprise. Another emotion emanated from her, but Starlight could not put her hoof on it. “I-It’s two in the morning Starlight, is now the best time?”
“Twilight.” Starlight fumbled with the words in her head. “You know our, eh, misadventure.” Twilight nodded in reply, seemingly oblivious to Starlight's intent. “I did some horrible things to you, which I’m sorry for, I don't know if I’ll ever forgive myself. To be honest—”
“Starlight, look.” Twilight interrupted her friend. “You wanted to do the right thing, I forgive you for that. Now—” She let out a loud yawn. “Could we discuss this in the morning? Pinkie has a homecoming party planned for the both of us tomorrow.” Twilight flopped over on her side and pulled the sheet over her head.
“A-Actually.” Starlight twiddle her hooves, unsure of how to proceed. Everything had played out different in her head, she should have been done already. “Y-You can’t just forgive me. I won’t accept it.” She took a deep breath. A lump had grown in her throat, and she felt like her only wish was to cry her heart out.
“Starlight.” Twilight sat up, back still turned to Starlight. She gestured for the pink unicorn to sit down next to her. “We haven’t really talked recently, and that’s on me. It was horrible, the things you did.” She scooted over to give Starlight more room, which the guilt-stricken unicorn reluctantly used. A minute of complete silence passed, with Starlight unable to come up with anything to say.
“I-I—” Starlight gave up the losing battle against her own tears, letting the floodgates open. Surprisingly, crying did actually make it easier to talk. “I-I don’t know what we are.” Her voices shattered like delicate glass, overwhelmed by emotions. “W-We’re supposed to be f-friends, good friends even. B-But friends don’t do what I d-did to you. A-And then, right before we returned—” She paused, completely out of breath. Before Starlight had a chance to continue, however, Twilight wrapped her hooves around her and pulled the pink unicorn into a careful embrace.
“It’s okay, Starlight.” Twilight turned her friend’s head until their eyes met. The two gazed into each other’s eyes, Twilight’s full of sympathy. “I’m here to listen, and help. Even if you just want a shoulder to cry on, I’d be more than happy to provide.”
“B-But—” Starlight wiped her running nose with a hoof. “All those things. It was like the village again, only worse. I-I almost liked it! How can you say that’s ‘okay’?” She wanted to sink through the floor and never come back. The shame bore down on her like a pallet of bricks.
Inexplicably to Starlight, her alicorn friend just continued to comfort her. There was no resentment aimed at Starlight, nor any other negative feelings. “T-Twilight, we were supposed to be friends, and yet—” Twilight put a hoof over Starlight’s mouth to silence her.
“And friends forgive each other, Starlight.” Twilight offered a small, but reassuring, smile. “I know about your nightmares, and I know you’ve been trying to hide them.” The faintest of sighs escaped her, barely loud enough for Starlight to notice. “It’s been kind of cute, in a weird way. You coming to have breakfast each morning, eyes like a pair of broken bike wheels, barely able to stand straight, and still insisting that everything’s fine.”
“I-I—” Starlight’s cheeks heated with embarrassment, despite already being red from her tears. Somehow, she believed she had been able to keep her emotional distress a secret. No more tears came out, regardless of how much Starlight felt like they were warranted. Instead she let out a defeated sigh and fully accepted Twilight’s embrace, she hesitated to accept how nice it felt to have somepony run a hoof through her mane. “I’m sorry for not telling you. B-but you seemed so busy, and I didn’t want to complain about something foalish like nightmares.”
“Everypony has nightmares, Starlight. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Twilight took her hoof off Starlight for a moment to scratch her chin. “I actually had a nightmare just the other day. It was about giant bookworms tying me up and forcing me to watch them eat all the books in Equestria.” A visible shudder coursed through Twilight’s body, like a particularly awful childhood trauma had just resurfaced.
“R-Really?” Starlight ignored the nature of Twilight’s dream, since she figured it would be a mistake to ask about more details. “W-What do you do? When you get nightmares, I mean.”
“I’m glad you asked.” Twilight’s hoof returned to Starlight’s mane, something Starlight was anything but opposed to. “After many nights’ worth of waking up drenched in sweat and yelling for my mom, I’ve nailed down multiple methods for preventing a nightmare from recurring.” Before Starlight had a chance to ask about the individual ways, her friend produced a thick compendium seemingly out of thin air. It flipped open to reveal a flowchart, completely incomprehensible to Starlight. “If we follow your circumstances, let’s see here—” Twilight traced down the flowchart with a cherry puff of magic. “Unicorn, recurring nightmare, guilt, personal blame. Ah, here we are; I should have some options that’d be perfect for you.”
“Y-You do?” Starlight turned away from the chart, to her mentor.
“Of course I do, and I can guarantee at least one of them will work.” Twilight flipped through her compendium. “Your first option would be to, with magic, induce a state of lucid dreaming. That way you’d be in full control should the nightmares—” Twilight stopped herself mid-sentence. A pen and quill appeared, and she scribbled down some quick notes. “Actually, Luna made me promise to not induce any more lucid dreams. Let’s move on.”
“Luna made you do what?” Starlight raised an eyebrow, genuinely confounded. “Why would she do that?” In response to her question, Twilight looked away, her face briefly took on a faint crimson hue.
“It’s, uh, a long story. Let’s take it some other time.” She ripped the page out and tossed it aside. “Anyways, your second option would be to stay awake until sunrise. That one’s really effective, I can even get Spike to prepare two extra pots of coffee just for you.” She beamed at her pupil, which was met by a more than mildly unamused look. An embarrassed laugh escaped her, and the page was quickly discarded. “That one’s only worth it when studying for exams anyways.”
“Do you have something a little more, uh, you know...” Starlight paused, not sure how to finish. “I just want to get a good night’s sleep, without any methods that are too special.” She gave Twilight an awkward smile, just in case Twilight would find her request inconsiderate.
“Oh.” Twilight’s face took on a dumbfounded look. “I see. Just, uh, give me a second.” Most of the pages in her compendium were ripped out and crumpled into a big paper wad, which was quickly tossed into a dark corner. “That leaves me with, uh, one whole option.” She attempted a weak smile, but it failed to reassure Starlight of anything. “It’s, uh, to find somepony who means a lot to you, and spend the rest of the night with them. Being near somepony you like should bring enough peace of mind to drive most nightmares away.” Twilight ripped the page out and was about to lob it aside, but Starlight’s aura caught the wad of paper in midair.
“A-Actually, I think this one could work.” Starlight skimmed through the brief description multiple times. There was no real point to it, and she knew exactly where to find somepony who could keep her nightmares away. “S-So, all I have to do is ask somepony important to me if they want to share their bed with me?” She took a deep breath, it was a weak attempt to quell the nervousness that rose within her.
“Yeah, that’s how it works.” Twilight nodded, the kind of nod one would expect from an ancient sage. “But, who are you going to ask? Trixie’s out of town, and Sunburst is in the Crystal Empire.” She looked at Starlight, it was a look filled with confusion. Then, realisation seemed to hit her square in the face. “O-Oh—” Twilight’s face grew several shades more red, and her eyes widened.
“S-So Twilight—” Starlight fought to not stammer, with little success. “C-Could I stay w-with you? Tonight, that is.” She wanted to break eye contact, since looking in Twilight’s eyes caused an inexplicable wave of embarrassment to shoot through her body. “I-I just don’t want to have any more nightmares, please.”
“B-But Starlight, I’m your teacher.” Twilight appeared to fumble with her words. “I-I can’t just... It wouldn’t feel, you know.” She released Starlight’s mane and began twiddling her hooves, visible pearls of sweat running down the side of her head.
“B-But, you said friends help each other.” Starlight’s voice took on a slightly distressed tone. “And you’re the closest friend I have, so why would being my teacher change any of that?” Without noticing, she had crawled further into Twilight’s embrace.
“I-I mean, imagine if I and Princess Celestia, you know—” Twilight’s pupils darted around the room, as if she was doing everything in her power to avoid eye contact. “It’d be weird.” She let out a disheveled sigh, and her body relaxed like all energy had left it. “I like you, Starlight. As a friend, I really do. But isn’t there anypony else you could ask?”
“N-No, there isn’t.” Starlight swallowed the massive lump in her throat, in hope it would squash some of the butterflies in her stomach. “I don’t have anypony else to ask. Twilight, please—” She paused to take a deep breath, and collect what nerves she had left. “W-What’s the worst that could happen?” Starlight attempted a pleading look, which appeared to have some effect.
“W-Well—” Twilight bit her lips. A moment of silence passed, as if she were contemplating the most critical decision in her life. “I-If it helps with your nightmares, I suppose.” She crawled back under the sheets, followed shortly by Starlight.
“T-Thanks.” Starlight pulled herself closer to her friend, close enough to bury her snout in Twilight's lavender mane. Unlike what she had expected, the faint hint of sun-ripe plums tickled her nostrils. “Has anypony ever told you how nice your mane feels? I really like it.” She took a minute to just breathe Twilight's scent, while her mentor gradually relaxed more and more.
“Y-You know what, Starlight?” A very flustered Twilight turned to come eye to eye with Starlight. “I-I think we should do this every night. In case those nightmares come back.” They continued gazing into each others’ eyes in silence, their elated breaths being the only sound. Starlight attempted a reply, but all she managed was a weak nod.
Whatever ghosts, real or imaginary, that may have been haunting Starlight evaporated completely. Once again, things had not gone according to her plans, but for once the outcome had been anything but a complete disaster. Nevertheless, it was an outcome she would happily accept.
