Ink

by kudzuhaiku

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 19410

Every life is a book, and one must start at the beginning

When Twilight Sparkle opens a magical book taken from the Moochick's Study, she gets pulled into the middle, along with Sumac Apple. But if Twilight is going to somehow finish this story, she's going to have to start from the beginning.

The beginning is a long ways back.

A lore-heavy entry in the Weedverse.

Published 2017-05-09 02:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-05-12 21:23:25 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, stared at the book on the podium with a great deal of hesitation. It wasn’t just any book, it was The Book. A long time ago, Tarnished Teapot had recovered this ancient tome from Skyreach and brought it home to her. For the longest time, the book was impossible to read. It resisted her until just recently, when words had begun to form. Messages appeared in the blank pages, messages in her own script, which left her feeling astounded and confused.

The last message had been quite clear: Fetch Sumac and all will be revealed.

She had no reason not to trust herself, and somehow she knew that she was seeing her own flowing script. It was her own magical signature—that much was unmistakable—so what else could she do but do as she was told? Somehow, she was giving herself these instructions for a reason, and if you couldn’t trust yourself, who could you trust?

Sumac was beginning to grow into his magic and showed immense promise for his age. His knack for defensive magic was now almost a state of artistry—he constructed shield matrices in the same way Octavia scribed symphonies—and his ability to weave protective spells was only surpassed by her brother, Shining Armor. Through sorcery, Sumac had absorbed and learned defensive magics from those all around him, including tutelage by Shining Armor himself.

There could be no doubt that Sumac was a product of the dangerous times they lived in, but advancing through adversity had made the little colt thrive and grow in strength. Sumac had friends, his greatest strength in Twilight’s opinion, and she felt that she had taught him well. For being eleven years old, he was accomplished, and Twilight knew that she had played a huge part in that. Some might say that it takes a village to raise a foal, and Ponyville had stepped up. Pretty much everypony in town had a hoof in Sumac’s development somehow.

She felt proud. Ponyville was her town, and Ponyville had done right. A princess could not ask for more from her demesne and she knew that her success as a ruler was measured by how Ponyville had prospered. The town was a reflection of her values, her virtues, and her beliefs. It was an extension of her morality as a pony, and her ethics as a princess. She had done right by Ponyville, and Ponyville had done right by her.

When she heard the door opening, she turned to face her visitor…

When the colt entered, Twilight rushed forwards to give him a hug. He froze up, as he tended to do, and she wrapped her wings around him. She remembered when he was small, so small, and now he was getting big. Well, in a relative sense. The colt was skinny, probably from using far too much magic far too often. He was a gawky, awkward little egghead, and she loved him.

“Hi, Sumac.”

“You sent for me?” Sumac responded as he leaned into the hug. “Private lesson time?”

“Something like that, yes.” Twilight nodded her head while she pulled away. Looking down, she adjusted his glasses after knocking them askew. Glasses had to be perfect. Giving him a good once over, she was now satisfied that he was okay. Reaching out her wing, she stroked his mane, pushing it back away from his eyes, and smiled because Sumac had a rather long horn for his age, a horn remarkably like his father’s.

“I think you’ll be growing in that mustache soon,” Twilight said to Sumac in a way that was far too teasing, and she laughed when she saw him blush. When he started to stammer, Twilight switched to more reassuring words. “Your father had a magnificent mustache, and that’s not a bad thing. Of all of the traits you’ve inherited from him, I think the mustache is the best one.”

“Really?”

Twilight could hear the hesitation in Sumac’s voice. “Well, Star Swirl was known for his beard, so you could be Sumac the Mustachioed Sorcerer.”

“That sounds mega-dorky.” The colt’s eyes blinked once behind his darkened lenses.

“If you became a supervillain, you could be the Mustached Maniac!” Twilight allowed her eyes to go wide and her ears angled forwards over her face. “Or maybe the Mustached Menace?”

“Flurry would kill me if I turned to evil,” Sumac remarked, brows furrowed, sighing out his words in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

“Really?” One of Twilight’s eyebrows arched in concern. “She wouldn’t try to redeem you?” Her words caused the colt’s seriousness to crumble a bit, and she heard him giggling, a happy, welcomed sound. For having a troubling life, Sumac had turned out well-adjusted, and for this, Twilight was thankful beyond words.

“There would be a race,” Sumac began, and he shook his head. “Olive would probably throw Pebble at me, Flurry would use her ice powers, Megara would pick up something heavy and hit me with it, and Boomer… well… I suspect that Boomer would express her displeasure with me somehow. My friends would kick my a—”

“Plot!” Twilight interjected.

Sumac reconsidered. “My friends would kick my plot if I turned to evil. Nope, I need to walk the straight and narrow. I have too much on the line to deviate.”

“Like what…” Twilight narrowed her eyes and wondered what Sumac was thinking, what his plans were. There was something about the look on his face that excited her curiousity, and she had to know his motivations, if she could get him to open up. “Come on, Sumac, you can tell me anything, remember?”

“Well…”

“Well, what?” Twilight demanded, curious and impatient.

“Well, I kinda wanna sample Pebble’s sweet, sticky pie,” Sumac blurted out, blunt and straight to the point. His face reddened and his gaze fell down to the floor as he began to kick his hooves against each other. “Look, don’t judge me, but I want something in return for my seeming altruism, and Pebble has those jiggly thunder thighs.” The colt clenched his teeth and let out a hiss as he thought about it. “They keep me up at night. And by up at night, I mean it’s hard to roll over in the bed. You wouldn’t know because you don’t have this problem.”

Twilight understood all too well. Pinkie Pie too, had thunder thighs, and they were distracting. Wings too, had a mind of their own, and even after all of these years, she still had trouble sleeping with them sometimes. She nodded, agreeing, and said to Sumac, “That’s as fine of a reason to remain good as any. Well… let’s get started, shall we?”

“I kinda want to do the mattress mambo with Silver Lining too, but her father is a Warden. Well, retired Warden, but still, that puts a lot of pressure on a colt like me to be good. There are places I’d like to go and girls I’d like to do, and if I’m ever going to live the dream, I have to walk a fine, fine line. Dim told me that when a stallion does good, it’s because he wants something, and he’s right.”

Twilight was forced to cork her mouth with her hoof as an emergency measure, and she saw stars in her vision as she struggled to withhold her laughter. She heard herself snorting, and the sudden pressure made her ears pop while starbursts exploded before her eyes. The honesty here was both amusing and refreshing, and she expected no less from Sumac Apple.

Twilight felt her own magic grow difficult to control as Sumac allowed a zap apple lozenge to dissolve in his mouth. The rush of power was intoxicating; it was a pleasure that made her feel guilty every time she experienced it. It was like when she was young again, when her magic was something she was still learning to keep in check. Twilight remembered the days of never-ending struggle, when just turning a page in a book was an accomplishment.

Every entrance was locked and warded. Intrusion into the room would be impossible for most, and Twilight tried not to think about it or worry about it too much. The book seemed to be reacting to Sumac’s sorcery as well: It had a peculiar glow, and Twilight could feel power radiating from it. It thrummed and throbbed in waves, and she had no doubt that Sumac’s magic sense was being overwhelmed, because hers was too.

Electricity coursed through Twilight’s wings, crackled along each feather, and arced from primary to primary. She shared a secret with Sumac, and that was that they both loved the feeling of power. They reveled in it, their secret pleasure, and the sorcerer offered his power as a voluntary participant. There was a secret nook in Twilight’s mind that took this as a great personal victory, a great accomplishment, that she was friends with her treasured sorcerer and did not have to coerce him. There was power to be had in their mutual trust.

With Sumac by her side, Twilight Sparkle knew that she was the single most powerful magical being in this reality, and maybe the next few realities over. It was a power that so far, she had never abused; she reasoned that, so long as she felt a little guilty about having it, she would be okay.

Her love for Sumac was far, far stronger than her love of power.

“Twilight, I’m getting stronger,” Sumac said in a soft, somewhat squeaky adolescent voice. “It kinda scares me.”

“You’re getting older, Sumac. This is normal. It’ll be okay. You have good teachers.” Twilight felt magic rushing up and down her legs, tingling through her bones, and her hooves crackled against the stone with each step. “You’ve learned an awful lot of theory and application. Soon, you’ll be old enough to put all of that into real practice, and you’ll be a force of magic to be reckoned with. I know that you’ll do good with it. Lemon Hearts has instilled in you a powerful sense of goodness.”

“My sense of right and wrong gets jumbled sometimes,” Sumac confessed while he shook his head. “Sometimes, I just get so angry, especially when life feels unfair for others.”

“Trust in your friends, Sumac,” Twilight replied as she turned her attention upon the book.

This time, the book did nothing to resist her when she opened it, and with her telekinesis, she pulled on the cover. The book fell open in the middle, much to her surprise, and she saw ink swirling around on the pages. She watched as the paper crumpled, crinkled, and took shape. It was like a pop up book now, and a magnificent castle took shape, rising up from the sea of ink.

The drawbridge of the castle opened and light spilled out. Motes of raw magic began to swirl around, and Twilight found her gaze locked upon the inviting entrance. Little paper ponies danced upon the pages, and the ink continued to move in mesmerising whorls. These ponies looked like the somewhat stylised ponies that existed in the paintings and stained glass windows of Canterlot Castle. Enchanted, Twilight felt as though she was a foal again, and she delighted in what she saw.

“Are you ready, Sumac?”

“For what?” The colt looked curious.

“We’re going in!” Twilight gestured with her wing at the paper castle. “Do you trust me?”

“Always and forever,” Sumac responded without thinking. “You’re my aunt!”

“I know.” Twilight blinked once because her eyes now felt a little misty. Being an aunt was special, and she now had a little herd of ponies that worshipped and adored her. It was a treasured accomplishment and a major milestone in her life. She hoped that she might be a mother soon.

Gesturing with her wing, she pulled Sumac closer, lifting him with her magic, and then began to approach the book. She felt a tug—it was like the pull of gravity—and she felt an overwhelming sense of purpose. On her hips, her cutie marks were glowing like the sun, and Sumac’s cutie marks were as well.

“Everything feels right about this,” Sumac said in a voice of perfect, utter calm. “My fears have left me.”

“Me too,” Twilight replied as she continued moving towards the book.

In the blink of an eye, she and Sumac vanished, leaving behind an empty study. The study did not stay empty for very long though, as a brilliant lavender alicorn popped into existence. She had a weary, but triumphant smile, and her eyes looked exhausted. The weariness she suffered was evidenced by how she dragged her hooves over the floor and stumbled towards the book.

“Thousands and thousands of years to reach this point,” she murmured. “To be back with friends, family, and loved ones. Now to wait just a little longer, and then I can be with the ones I love again. Not much longer now…” Sighing with relief, Twilight Sparkle closed the book and the light vanished. “It’s been so long… I’ve changed so much… and they’re still just as I remember them.” She sighed again, sat down, and began weeping.

Wiping at her eyes with her foreleg, she sobbed and said to herself, “Spike, I’ve missed you most of all… I never understood how much I needed you… I was so stupid...”

Author's Note

Here we are, off on an adventure in a book!

This is a lore-heavy story, so if you're not sure what is going on, ask for help! There are a lot of great folks with great ideas, so chat up the comment section and have fun.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 2

The castle was made of paper. Everything was made of paper and ink flowed in a fountain. Even more peculiar, the ink in the fountain didn’t stain or saturate the paper, the paper stayed clean, dry, and the ink just rolled off. It was a strange thing for ink to do, and Twilight was almost mesmerised by what she saw. From what she was hearing from Sumac beside her, she guessed that he was quite taken by all of this as well.

On the low wall that formed the base of the fountain, words began to form, and she read them aloud. “Every life is a story, every story is a book, and every book must be read.” Deep worry-lines appeared on her forehead and her ears stuck out from each side of her head while she nodded, finding the statement to be true enough for her liking.

“There’s not enough time to read every book,” she said to herself.

The fountain seemed to have other ideas. “What if there was?”

“Well,” Twilight replied, becoming thoughtful, and never once thinking that she was having a conversation with ink. “I’d need to be Princess Celestia to live long enough, but she stays pretty busy. In fact, she’s the busiest pony I know, because she’s stuck playing the Princess Game. The stakes are pretty high and there isn’t as much time for reading as one might hope.”

Seeing Sumac, Twilight’s attention became focused on him as he stuck his hoof into the ink of the fountain. When he pulled it back out, his pale beige on beige sock was left unstained, and for this, Twilight was relieved. Trying to explain to Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine why their precious son was now an ink blotter would be difficult at best. While she was busy gawking and yakking, Sumac was trying a hooves-on approach.

Twilight contemplated a few stories where she herself was a major player. Flurry, Skyla, and Sumac were all her nieces and her nephew. Each of them was perfect, wonderful, and special in ways that there were no words to describe. Flurry was brash, a brawler, she was hot-blooded, a bit vulgar, but there was no mistake that she was the princess that Equestria needed. Skyla was the opposite; quiet, calm, studious, cautious, and she abhorred conflict in any form. Skyla had not yet proven herself as a princess, but Twilight was confident that she would someday, probably in some quiet, hard-to-notice sort of way that others might take for granted.

As for Sumac, he was an adorkable little scientist that would one day become a mortician, at least, Twilight was pretty confident about this outcome. She was snapped from her reverie by a splash and blinking her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering, she saw that Sumac was pronking about in the fountain, stomping in the ink. Sighing, Twilight smiled and she could appreciate that Sumac wanted to play in liquid ink that left no stain.

Up on the parapets, paper birds flocked together and flapped their paper wings. Paper leaves rustled in trees made from heavy, pulpy paper. Little paper bees went about on bee business, going from crinkly crêpe paper flower to crinkly crêpe paper flower. Twilight was almost certain that if it rained here, ink would fall. Her mind began to wander, drifting away to explore a flight of fancy, and she thought of Seville. There was a pony that loved ink and paper. Like her, he was a penophile, he had a love of writing instruments, and he was a papyrophiliac as well. He knew his paper, the smell of it, the taste of it, the feeling of it against his frogs, and he loved good stationary.

Seville Orange was the only pony that Twilight could have hours-long conversations about paper with, and he hung upon her every word. Was that love? She didn’t know. A part of her hoped it might be. What was love, if not a shared interest? It was rare for an earth pony to be both a penophile and a papyrophiliac, due the difficulty of having no magic to hold a pen with. As such, writing became a labour of love.

Sumac was now checking out the paper flowers, mindful of the paper bees. A paper butterfly went fluttering past, and the colt went still, perhaps hoping the pretty paper creature might land. Observing him, Twilight saw the fundamental difference between Sumac and other ponies, or even herself and other ponies. This was a paradise made of paper, and neither of them seemed concerned about being here.

Twilight knew that most ponies would be freaking out right now.

“Come on, Sumac, let’s see what lies behind the gatehouse. Stay close with me, and don’t go wandering off, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I getcha,” Sumac responded, and he bounded over to where Twilight stood. “The bees have little inky stripes around their bumble-bottoms. It’s all very fascinating.”

The words left Twilight laughing a bit. “Such a dizzying scientific vocabulary.”

“Well”—Sumac sniffed in a faux-haughty way—“I am Professor Egghead. What do you expect?”

“One day, your well of goodness will turn sour, and Professor Egghead will be no more. The world shall know you and fear you as… The Mustachioed Mustang!” Reaching down, Twilight prodded the colt beside her with her wing, hoping to get a reaction out of him, and she smiled so hard that her face almost cramped.

“Um, no.” Sumac’s mouth made a perfect round ‘O’ while saying the last word and he shook his head from side to side. “Now, act like a grown up and pay attention. Things are weird here. I swear, you’re a big foal sometimes.”

“D'aww.” Twilight heaved the word in protest, and she began kicking at the paper grass to emphasise her objection. “I swear, those lessons with Sunburst have left you as a real stick in the mud.” She gave him a final, teasing poke with her primaries, and her smile persisted. “Onward, then…”

Past the gatehouse was an open courtyard in which everything was made of paper. There was a pond of ink and paper swans swam laps in the night-black liquid. They kicked and paddled, and shimmering round droplets of ink rolled down their paper feathers, leaving behind no stain. Overhead, the sun shone like a paper lantern, casting a warm, diffused light.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing of all was the door into the main hall. It too, was paper, thick, pulpy looking stuff, with lots of little stringy bits. But it was what was on the door that gave Twilight pause. Her cutie mark was high on the door, about eye-level to her, and below it, eye-level to Sumac, was his cutie mark, the zap apple with nine rainbow lightning bolts radiating from it like spokes.

Seeing it, Twilight noticed for the first time that it was a sun-symbol, or could be seen as one. A sun-symbol substitute perhaps. A nebulous thought lurked in her subconscious and refused to take shape. A wagon wheel too, could also be seen as a sun-symbol, and Princess Celestia had a curious number of wainwrights that sprang from her loins. The zap apple with the spoked lightning bolts might have been a wagon wheel.

An idea presented itself in her mind: Cutie marks were an alphabet of sorts, pictographs that when combined together, any pony paying attention might read. Even the illiterate could understand pictographs with a little work. Little ponies were just letters of some vast, complex alphabet that told a story if you arranged them in the right away.

It was then that Twilight began to understand that she wanted to see those patterns, see them and know them. She wanted to read them. When just the right symbols were placed together in the right order, a story could be told. Twilight understood that she and her friends were… a word? A paragraph? When their symbols were all placed together, were they the title to their own story? What were they?

It was all so profound and Twilight’s vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes.

Lifting up a foreleg, she reached out to touch Sumac’s mark upon the door, but hesitated. What was a family? A group of friends? These cutie marks together, there had to be meaning, there had to be a way to translate these pictographs into meaningful words. This door, emblazoned with two cutie marks, said something. It was a message.

But what did it mean? Was destiny merely the purposeful arrangement of putting the right symbols together to form words? Waiting for the right letters to appear so a statement could be made? With Sumac beside her, Twilight touched the door with her hoof…

Squinting, blinking, Twilight tried to get her bearings. She was in another place entirely now, but where? Nothing was made of paper—wait, the wrapping paper was paper. Pausing, she realised that she knew what this was. This was Sumac’s birthday party. With a turn of her head, she looked down at the colt beside her, and she could see the wheels in his head turning.

“This is your ninth birthday party,” Twilight said to Sumac.

Turning her head from side to side, she spotted herself. She was sitting on a sofa, sandwiched between Pinkie Pie and Seville. Seeing herself with them, she could not help but think how perfect they looked together, how wonderful it was, and she began to kick herself for not noticing it sooner. The Twilight of Sumac Apple’s ninth birthday looked so comfortable and happy with her companions.

“This is the day that everything changed,” Sumac whispered.

“How so?” Twilight asked.

“Pebble stuck her tongue into my mouth,” Sumac replied.

Shocked by these words, Twilight began her decline into wordless sputtering. Extending her wing, she hid her face behind it, and then her sputtering began to sound more like giggling. On the couch, peering out from between her primaries, she saw Seville looking into her eyes, hanging on her every word, and she wondered how could she be so blind.

There was a cry of surprise and when Twilight turned her head, she saw a frosting-covered Sumac and a triumphant Twinkleshine with an enormous grin. Sumac, the nine-year-old Sumac, excused himself from the table and went to clean his face. Watching him go, Twilight had a thought: she realised that this could have been the day when everything had changed for her, too, had she only been paying attention. The adoration in Seville’s eyes seemed so evident now, and it was painful to observe.

Feeling a tug, Twilight began walking without thinking, following Sumac to the bathroom. She almost stumbled, but recovered just in time to see Pebble slinking along the wall, moving in total silence. Just thinking about it made Twilight’s cheeks feel warm. Sumac, her companion, continued to pull her along, and together, they slipped into the bathroom to spy on nine-year-old Sumac and nine-year-old Pebble.

It was kind of cute, in a gross way, how Pebble licked the frosting off of Sumac’s face. The colt was sitting on the toilet, balanced on the front of the lid but squirming, and it was obvious that he was a bit uncomfortable. Pebble too, had some unease, but the two of them kept going, trying to push past the awkward phase. Those two were nothing, if not determined.

Eleven-year-old Sumac watched his younger self with keen interest.

It was a tender moment, filled with fragile innocence, and Twilight felt her heart flutter when Pebble took Sumac’s face into her hooves. Standing on her hind legs in a bipedal stance, she kneaded his damp cheeks, squishing his face, making him look old and then young again. Leaning in, the filly kissed the colt sitting on the potty, and she squashed her entire face against his in an inexperienced, slobbery smooch.

The awkwardness gave way to eager exploration, and Twilight felt her heart warm. There was love here, real love, a curious, wonderful thing that left her captivated. She felt Sumac hugging her leg; when she looked down at him, she saw that his glasses were fogged over and he was crying. With her wing, she embraced him, and together, they relived this moment as the kiss intensified.

“This day was a turning point for both of us,” Twilight said to the colt holding her leg. “You seized the day, even though it was uncomfortable and kind of icky, at least, by the looks of it, and I failed to notice. I think this is a place where our destinies intersected, and we were both given a choice. You were right to kiss Pebble, this is a day where you grew.” Twilight felt a keen, powerful sense of understanding flow through her like ink through a pen.

While Twilight spoke, the colour bled from the walls and ran down in rivulets. Soon, everything was giving up its colour, its ink, even the younger Pebble and Sumac, who both became paper ponies. Their kiss continued, and the sound of paper crinkling filled the air as they kept their muzzles pressed together, snogging each other senseless.

Soon, the room was nothing more than blank paper, leaving Twilight and Sumac as the only beings of flesh, blood, and colour. Twilight, overwhelmed, began to feel a little tearful, and upon closer inspection of Sumac, she saw that he was crying tears of ink. One welled up in the corner of his eye, forming a glistening black bead, then rolled down his cheek, leaving no stain behind.

Twilight was more concerned about why the colt was crying, rather than the ink he spilled. She gave him a gentle shake, worried, and lowered her head down so her muzzle was close to his ear. More ink spilled from the corners of his eyes, and she asked him, “Hey, what’s wrong, little guy?”

“Too embarrassing,” Sumac mumbled while his barrel began hitching.

“I’m your aunt, you can tell me anything, remember?” Twilight pulled the sobbing colt closer. “Clearly, this memory is important, and we need to figure out why. So what’s going on here?”

“Something came up between Pebble and I.” Sumac’s words were a raspy, sob-ridden whisper. “I tried to push her away, but she wouldn’t budge. I was so confused about it at the time and later, and I still am. I remember everything… how it felt… and I can remember thinking that I liked her so much… I was so scared that the grown ups would walk in and bust us and after I got used to it, I just wanted this moment to last forever.”

“So this really was a profound day for you.” When Twilight began treating the subject matter as something to learn about, the awkwardness eased off a little. “Maybe this day wasn’t about me at all, like I was thinking. Maybe this really is about you. But both of our cutie marks were on the door… I wish I understood what was going on here.”

“Pebble’s my soulmate, isn’t she?” Sumac asked, and he looked up at Twilight with wide, worried eyes. While he spoke, the paper versions of himself and Pebble continued snogging, rubbing their parchment paper lips together.

“I don’t know, Sumac… I’ve never had a soulmate. Or maybe I have and I’ve been oblivious.” Twilight’s head began shaking from side to side. “It’s not my place to say, Sumac. That’s something you have to determine for yourself.”

“That doesn’t help me,” Sumac bleated, and more inky black tears spilled from his eyes.

Overcome with a strange compulsion, Twilight found the words pouring from her mouth and she could do nothing to stop them. “Yes, Sumac, Pebble is your soulmate. You will have a collection of lifemates, friends you treasure enough to establish a lasting bond with, but only Pebble will be your soulmate.” Stunned, she wondered where the words had come from, and even more disconcerting, she wanted to know why she knew they were true. She also knew that she had already witnessed this dynamic in action, with Tarnish and Maud, who kept both Octavia and Vinyl close. As a group, they were inseparable.

The room moved around them, the paper becoming flat and featureless. Sumac sniffled and snuffled while everything around them folded. When it was all said and done, the paper ponies were gone, as was everything in the bathroom. All that was left was a door, and upon the door was a cutie mark that Twilight Sparkle knew all too well.

A trio of vivid blue poison joke flowers decorated the door, and it was the only way out of the room. Seeing the door caused Twilight to endure a shiver of fear, as there was something unpleasant, something ominous about it. She might have just witnessed what may have been for herself, and now she was seeing a fixed event with no other options. Destiny left no other exits, no other means of escape.

Being a concerned aunt, she began wiping Sumac’s face while she prepared herself for whatever came next, because she had to keep her priorities straight…

Author's Note

Next chapter: The Warlord.

Chapter 3

Beyond the door was sky, and Twilight Sparkle snatched Sumac out of the air before he could start to fall. She flipped him around, having done this many times, and plopped him on her back, right in the spot where Spike usually sat. One day, Spike would be too big, there would be a reversal of roles, and she would ride on Spike’s back. One day, if she was patient, she would be able to make an epic entrance as a princess, even if she was an old mare at that point.

Far, far below them was a spread of endless blue that Twilight first mistook for the ocean, but upon closer inspection she realised it was poison joke. Off on the horizon, to her right, she saw darkness, a vast swirling swarming storm, and lightning crackled. To her left, she saw light, she saw a flickering, dying sun, providing only a little wan illumination. For reasons she could not explain, terror gripped her.

In the darkness, a face formed in the clouds, a face of incomprehensible size whose features were made of darkness, clouds, and thunder. It was goat-like, horrifying, and moving right at her with terrific speed. She knew who it was, she knew him all too well, and her blood went cold with recognition.

“Grogar!” Sumac hollered while his horn began to charge up.

Sensing the colt’s magic, Twilight set Sumac straight. “He isn’t real, Sumac. Nothing we do will affect him. You’re very brave, but fighting him isn’t the answer. Let us head towards the light. The poison joke will keep him away.”

Banking, Twilight headed for her left, and when she leveled out, she noticed a castle in the distance, a small, crumbling mess of a castle. She flapped her wings, gaining some speed, and she noticed the magic in the aether passing through her feathers. The magic here felt wrong, off somehow. It was unpleasant getting traction in the aether with her primaries, and her wings began to feel… greasy… somehow. It was a vile sensation that she held an intense dislike for.

“The magic here has gone bad!” Sumac shouted over the wind.

“It would be even worse without the poison joke!” Twilight replied.

Staring ahead, Twilight tried to assess things with her senses. The sun was locked in place, frozen over the castle, and she knew that it did not move. If it did, if it moved out of the field of poison joke, it would be gone forever. Nothing about this felt right and Twilight wondered what the circumstances were that brought this about.

“What happened here?” She asked, turning her thoughts into words. She did not expect an answer.

Yᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇss ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ.

The voice coming out of Sumac’s mouth was terrifying, and the magic he radiated was even more so. Twilight now flew in an unnatural position, with her head facing backwards, trying to see Sumac. The colt was hot against her spine, and the greasy feeling in her wings subsided. Sumac’s eyes were glowing black, and ink dribbled down in the form of tears from the corners.

Tʜɪs ɪs ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Rᴏʏᴀʟ Pᴏɴʏ Sɪsᴛᴇʀs. Tʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜsᴛᴇᴅ ғᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ. Lɪғᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴀɴᴇᴡ ᴇʟsᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ.

“What caused this to happen?” The cold tingles in her dock were almost crippling as Twilight turned her head back around so she could see where she was going.

Aʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ.

“What?” Twilight shook her head hard enough that she wobbled in flight. “No! How is this my doing? How is this my fault?

Yᴏᴜ ғᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss ᴏғ Fʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ. Yᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ ᴜɴʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ.

Knowing this wasn’t real, Twilight chose not to respond, and after a few moments, she felt the magic retreating from Sumac. In her mouth, there was a painful electrical current as her teeth ground together and she tasted thunder on her tongue. This was like one of Luna’s dreams, but worse, somehow much worse, and she hated it.

A long time ago, she had chided Tarnished Teapot for taking responsibility for his own actions, managing and owning up to his talent. Yet, she was a hypocrite, and she knew it. She had made a decision while under the influence of said magic, a terrible, life changing decision, a bad decision, and being under the influence of strange magic was no excuse. She had failed to take responsibility for her own actions, and she had not checked to see if she might be under undue influence.

It had been a powerful lesson as a princess.

Drawing nearer to the light, she saw that she recognised the castle; it was the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. It was a ruin, but still better than nothing. There were ponies around it, a vast throng of them, and Twilight dove down to get a better look. It seemed as though there was something going on, something big, something important.

Folding her wings just a few feet in the air, Twilight landed with a solid plop on the ground. Sumac let out a grunt and the colt did not leave her back, even though he was kind of big and this was rather awkward. Being an aunt meant bearing much awkwardness, Twilight had learned that.

What she saw made her flesh contract and contort. In the middle of the massive mob there was a pony, a tall, gangly pony that she knew all too well. Tarnished Teapot had seen better days. He was covered in scars, missing an eye, and his face held none of its usual warmth. Two other familiar ponies remained close to his sides, Limestone and Marble Pie. The two mares looked ferocious and dangerous.

Not far from Tarnish was a beaten-looking Flam Apple, bound and surrounded on both sides by Maud and Pinkie Pie. Twilight did not like how Pinkie looked, her mane and tail had no curl whatsoever, and her eyes had a manic gleam that was most unsettling. Overhead, the sun flickered and crackled, coming closer to death with each passing minute.

“Flam Apple, you have sold out all of ponykind,” Tarnish said, his voice strange and unnerving. “You came crawling to me seeking mercy, a refuge, but I tell you, there is none to be had here. All of this misery is your doing.”

When Tarnish spoke, Flam Apple began blubbering, and Pinkie Pie punched him in the ribs for doing so, causing him to bleat in pain. It was almost more than Twilight could bear to witness, and from behind her, Sumac’s breathing sounded troubled. Ears perking, Twilight noticed Tarnish inhaling, no doubt to say more.

“You sold your son out to HER! The damned cutie mark thief, and she gave him to Grogar to gain his favour! You gave him to HER! Her of all ponies! The destiny thief! The thief of purpose! She stole our future, she stole our marks, and she paved the way for his coming! Every pony that might have been a threat to Grogar, she undid them, stealing their mark and any chance we might have had at beating him!”

Twilight knew who Tarnish was speaking of and hearing these words made her soul shrivel while she thought of Starlight Glimmer. Even she had not forseen this, or thought of this as an outcome. Sumac’s forelegs tightened around her neck, and she could feel him breathing against the back of her head, his barrel hitching and heaving as he was no doubt holding back his sobs.

“You have condemned all of us to die, so you, Flam Apple, must die. You will find no sanctuary here.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Flam shrieked.

“We all have choices,” Tarnish replied. “You made a poor one. Coming here has been your undoing. Now, kneel, and I might grant you the mercy of a swift death.”

“No…” Flam let out a gibber of fear and his eyes began darting around, looking for some sympathetic individual that might save him.

“Now, Flam… my wives, they’re cranky and unpredictable. You’ve already upset them. Just seeing you made Marble a bit weepy, and that put her in a bad mood. And when Marble is in a bad mood, they’re all in a bad mood, because she’s the sweet one.” A cruel smile graced Tarnish’s lips, and his remaining eye glittered with playful malice.

“Tarnished Teapot is the Last Light, and you will do as he says!” Limestone commanded.

Perhaps triggered by Limestone’s words, the vast crowd began to chant, “Last Light!”

“I am the Last Light,” Tarnish said, raising his voice. “I keep all of you alive. I keep the darkness away. I alone hold back Grogar and I am a kind, gracious sort to share my little patch of civilisation and light with all of you. I provide for your needs! Your food grows in the soil that I purge of poisons.” Tarnish’s grin became unbearable to witness, and he continued, “Today, I am feeling generous. What would all of you like to see happen to Flam, the pony that sold us all out?”

One pony shouted in return, “Quartering!”

“Quartering!” Tarnish gasped in mock-surprise, sounding like a showpony.

“QUARTERING!” the crowd roared as one.

No! Twilight shook her head, not wanting to believe that her precious, beloved little ponies could fall to such a level of barbarity. It was terrifying how much the crowd adored Tarnish, and how they seemed to worship him. It was even more terrifying how much power he had, she could feel it radiating from him, and he was indeed, holding the darkness back. Tarnish had become the Last Light. In a world with no princesses, he was somehow holding the darkness and the corruption back.

“QUARTERING! QUARTERING! QUARTERING!”

“Hey, you lovely ladies of mine, you wanna help me quarter a pony?” Tarnish asked.

“I’d love to,” Maud deadpanned.

“That sounds like a party!” When Pinkie spoke, a little curl appeared in her mane.

Limestone rubbed up against Tarnish with her lip curled back in a snarl and a look of intense lust could be seen in her eyes. Even more disturbing was Marble, who looked up at Tarnish with a look of worshipful, somewhat shy adoration upon her face. For the first time, Twilight noticed the swell in Marble’s belly, the graceful curve that extended beyond her ribs.

Even now, at the end, life somehow continued, even if it was doomed life.

“No!” Twilight commanded as her wings unfurled. “NO! I didn’t allow this to happen! I owned my mistake! I admitted to it! I made amends! I didn’t allow this to happen! I welcomed Tarnish back and I’ve spent almost every day of my life trying to make up for my error! I strove to be a better princess so I would never make the same mistake twice!”

While Twilight spoke, shackles and chains were being put on Flam, and body harnesses were being secured to the Pie sisters. She could feel that Sumac had buried his face into her mane. Frustrated, she stomped her hoof into the ground and glared at the ponies that could not see her. The chains were being connected to the Pie sisters now, and Flam made pitiful, pleading whimpers.

“NO!” Twilight’s voice was like thunder, and in the distance, the dark face in the clouds answered with his own thunderous sound, laughter. “It was painful and embarrassing, but I owned my mistake! I owned it! I even made a public admission that I had done wrong, and I asked everypony to forgive me for what I had done! It was difficult and painful but I did it! NO!”

Words failed Twilight when she heard all-too familiar laughter. She choked, now unable to speak, and she heard the sound she loved most, Pinkie Pie’s precious laughter, only now it was cruel, distorted, and mean. Twilight felt her heart breaking within her barrel and she stared at the mare that she had started to open her heart to.

Twilight began to sob, only it was not tears that flowed down her muzzle, but ink. A river of ink poured from her eyes while the four Pie sisters began to pull in four different directions, and soon enough, Flam Apple’s body would give out under such strain. He let out a pitiful screech of pain, and there was nothing Twilight could do. Ink trickled from her eyes, but did not stain her lavender coat.

“I took responsibility and I did not allow this to happen,” Twilight said, her voice cracking.

All around her, the colour began to bleed away and everything became paper. Twilight watched it as it happened, still spilling out inky tears, and she suspected that Sumac too, was also shedding inky tears. Everything stopped moving, and paper Flam was spared a horrendous death from the paper Pie sisters. The paper ponies in the crowd had gone silent, and no longer chanted out their bloodlust.

Everything began to fold, there was much rustling and flapping as the paper folded itself out of existence. One by one, the inhabitants of this reality began to vanish, and Twilight watched them go, mourning them, mourning what they represented. The last to vanish was Tarnish, and his tall paper body was gone in seconds, folding away into nothingness.

Twilight now stood in a vast, endless plane of paper that stretched out forever in all directions and the only thing that stood out was a nearby door. No wall, no structure, just a paper door with a paper doorknob that stood out like a monolith amongst the vast emptiness that was the endless plane of paper.

While she stood watching, colour appeared on the door, and Twilight saw a cutie mark taking shape that she knew all too well. A wine glass with a swirl representing magic around the stem. She felt Sumac tensing, and then he slid down off of her back to stand upon the endless paper expanse.

“No,” Sumac whispered. “Not that.”

“It’s the only door out, Sumac.”

“I can’t face that.” The colt began to shake his head. “Twilight… I know what lies beyond that door… I can’t let you see what I did… you’ll be disappointed with me.”

Twilight steeled her nerves and wiped away her inky tears with her foreleg. “Sumac, what do you think is beyond the door?”

“Manehattan,” he breathed. “I was desperate, Twilight… I didn’t mean it… I’m so sorry… Pebble, Moon Rose, and I, we keep it a secret… what I did… what I did… I figure that Luna knows, but she’s good at keeping secrets too.”

“Whatever happened,” Twilight began, “I’m sure it was necessary and excusable. We have to face it to move forwards.”

“No,” Sumac whined and he shrank back.

“I’ll be with you,” Twilight promised. “Every step of the way, I’ll be with you. Sumac, I kind of feel that I failed you that day. I’ve always second guessed myself and wondered if perhaps, I should have kept you with me. If this really is Manehattan, this time, we’ll face it together.” Her eyes lingered on Belladonna’s cutie mark. “This time, you won’t be alone, Sumac.”

“But I did wrong!” Sumac cried, his voice cracking and becoming shrill.

“Shh,” Twilight shushed while she pulled Sumac closer. “I’ve done wrong too. No matter what happens beyond that door, no matter what I see, I will never stop loving you.”

“Promise?” Sumac now clung to Twilight’s leg, acting very much like he was five years old again.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye—OW!” While speaking, Twilight performed the motions, and once again, as she had many times in the past, she messed up the last part with too much force. “OW! Why does that always happen?”

“It hurts to commit to things,” Sumac said, somehow sounding solemn while his voice cracked. “I suppose I’m ready if you are.”

Taking a deep breath, Twilight prepared herself to face the next door…

Author's Note

Next chapter: Sumac's secret shame.

Chapter 5

The door had a tombstone on it, not the most inviting thing in the world. Twilight had hesitated before pushing it open, but once she did, Sumac went rushing through. She was a little envious of Sumac’s love of graveyards and his complete lack of fear of them. His nose was a little snotty and he still sniffled, but he had the resilience of youth. Already, he was recovering from the trauma of seeing his mother again.

“I know this place,” Sumac began. “This is a happy memory!”

“It is?” Twilight was dubious. This place was dark, dreary, and ominous. Many crows perched in skeletal trees and a cold wind teased her pelt while tugging on her feathers. How could this be a happy memory? This graveyard seemed to stretch in all directions forever and was shrouded in darkness.

“This is the place where I met my friend, Pale!” Sumac blurted out, sounding cheerful and happy.

“Who’s Pale?” Twilight asked. “And how did you end up in a place like this?”

“Pebble.” Sumac said the word in the most casual sort of way. “Pebble wanted to practice her emergency jaunting skills so she grabbed me and jaunted in the Ponyville Cemetery. We ended up here, and Pale was very, very surprised to see us. He wasn’t going to let us go, he said we were going to have to stay here forever, and so I challenged him to a game of poker.”

“What?” Twilight felt her brain shutting down. Sumac hadn’t lied, he wouldn’t do that, but his words were too strange to believe.

“See, over there.” Sumac pointed with his hoof.

Twilight sucked in wind when she saw an alicorn, but this wasn’t the first time she had seen a male alicorn. He was pale, colourless, sitting in the grass, hunched over and scowling. She saw a somewhat younger Sumac and Pebble also sitting in the grass, and both seemed to be enjoying themselves. How odd. Twilight wondered why she didn’t know about this alicorn and she began to comb through her memory, hoping to find something.

A pile of matchsticks sat between the alicorn stallion and the unicorn colt. Sumac had a lot of matchsticks, and Pale had very few. A lot seemed to be riding on this game, and Twilight knew the futility of playing games of chance against Sumac, who had the magic of grift. Grift was a nebulous, difficult to define magic, but you knew it when you encountered it, typically by the frustration and futility one felt. Flam had it in spades, along with his brother, Flim, and Sumac was certainly his father’s son.

“Call,” Pale muttered, and he set his cards down. “Four queens.”

Grinning, Sumac revealed his own cards. “Four kings.”

“Son of a bitch!” Pale’s wings shot out from his sides and he raised both front hooves high up into the air, shaking them at the sunless sky.

A long, long stream of profanity poured from his mouth and Twilight suddenly understood where Sumac must have picked up some of his colourful vocabulary. Perhaps because of instinct, she covered the ears of the Sumac just beside her with her wings, trying to block out the string of vulgar expletives.

“Fine, you may go, but you will never savour your victory. Sorry, standard procedure, but your memory of this must be wiped. I apologise for having to do this, because I find myself liking you. It isn't often that I get guests who want to play games with me.”

“No,” Pebble deadpanned.

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ Who are you to tell me what to do?” Pale eyeballed the little filly and gave her a stern scowl. “You are a very weird little filly, did you know that?”

“The deal was, if Sumac won, you send us on our way, unmolested. No messing with our brains, Pale. Unmolested. Sumac was wise to include that in the verbal contract. Unmolested. Unharmed. Untouched. Keep your end of the bargain.” Pebble peered up at the much larger stallion with an expression that was just daring him to step out of line. “And don’t be a creepy pervert.”

“Son of a bitch!” Pale shouted again, and this time, he fell over backwards into the dried, withered grass. He shook for a time, his legs kicked and his wings flapped against the dead ground. Then, with explosive suddenness, he started laughing. He laughed so hard and for so long that tears began to spill from his eyes.

Once more, Twilight’s brain balked at what she was seeing. “What?”

“You know,” Pebble deadpanned, “if you send away your visitors with scrambled brains, you can’t make friends. No wonder you’re such a depressing, moody grumplepuss.”

With a snort, Pale rolled over onto his side, his barrel heaving, and he rubbed the side of his face against the dead, withered earth. He continued to chuckle a bit, but it was subdued now, and he looked thoughtful. A dry stem of grass tickled his nostril, and he sneezed several times, each time his tail flicking to and fro.

“I bet it sucks for you,” Sumac said while he sat musing over his matchsticks. “It seems to me that you make ponies not remember you, but you still remember them, don’t you?”

Pale’s chuckles ceased. “It’s better this way.”

“Why?” Little Sumac’s head tilted off to one side.

The pale pony did not answer, but just lay there, staring at the two foals.

“I know a couple of immortals,” Sumac said in a low voice while he looked Pale in the eye. “I figure that my friendship means more to them than it does to me.”

“How so?” Pale asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

“Because.” The little colt looked over at his companion, Pebble, and then back at Pale. “Each moment they get to spend with me is precious. It won’t last forever. I won’t last forever. One day, I’ll be gone, they’ll keep living, and I’ll be a memory. So I try to be the best friend I can be so they’ll have the best memories of me. Twilight Sparkle gave me a friendship lesson about creating memories, and I kinda adapted it to immortals. I wrote a paper on it and Twilight kept it.”

“That’s actually very touching.” Pale’s voice was raspy and sounded strained.

“I framed that paper,” Twilight confessed in a whisper shared with the Sumac by her side. “I keep it in my private study, it’s right next to my graduation diploma.”

“I could be your friend,” Younger Sumac offered. “I’ll even keep your secret. You could come and visit. We could talk about stuff.”

The pale pony heaved a forlorn sigh. “I miss being around foals. So honest. So open.” Pale closed his eyes and wiped at his nose with his wingtip. “I was an uncle once. I watched my niece being born. Way back then, that wasn’t something that stallions watched, but I refused to leave my sister. She was crying, you see… and you don’t leave your little sister to cry. It makes you a bad brother.”

In silence, Pebble rose, took a few steps over to where Pale was sprawled out, flopped down beside him, and rested her head upon his long, broad neck. Pale froze for a moment, his eyes now open but also blinking, his body went rigid, and then after a few tense breaths, he relaxed a bit.

“I miss my nieces,” Pale whispered in a voice so low that Twilight almost didn’t hear it. “I taught Celestia to talk. She was a magnificent foal. So graceful. So wonderful. Well, until the Runt was born.”

“Runt?” Pebble asked.

“Celestia called her little sister ‘Runt.’ She was quite upset that she was no longer the center of the universe. Luna was frail… sickly. Eternity foaled early. That just happens sometimes I guess… but she had to give all of her time to Luna and Celestia was jealous.” Pale chuckled a bit, blinked his eyes, and added, “Sometimes, Celestia would walk up to Luna’s bassinet and nip her little sister on the ear. Luna had very powerful lungs for a foal born early.”

“Eternity?” Little Sumac asked, and then everything froze.

Twilight stood there, blinking, one ear bobbing up and down. She looked down at the Sumac by her side, and then her brain decided to be helpful, making the connection. “You know the name of Celestia and Luna’s mother, Sumac.”

“I guess I do.” Sumac shrugged.

“Pale has told you things, hasn’t he?” Twilight asked.

Sumac squirmed. “Yeah, but I keep it a secret. Breaking a promise to a friend is the fastest way to lose a friend… forever. I broke a Pinkie Promise once and I’m never doing anything that stupid ever again.” The colt gulped and turned a little a more beige. “Pinkie Pie has ways and means, Twilight… ways and means…”

Nodding, Twilight knew. For a brief moment, Twilight felt genuine worry about making any sort of vows or promises to Pinkie Pie, such as long term commitments… or binding vows involving relationships. The prospect of doing so was terrifying. Of course, that was a long ways off, if at all. They were only beginning to explore their relationship, experimenting at being more than friends.

But Pinkie Pie certainly had those jiggly-wiggly thunder thighs…

When the world’s colour began to drain away, it was now a familiar sight and Twilight hardly paid it any attention. The spectacle had lost its splendour. She was too busy studying her student, the little colt that had taken her friendship lessons to heart. Is this what Princess Celestia felt? Twilight had many students, and quite a few were fantastic. Exceptional.

The world began folding, just as it had before, with everything returning to flat paper. Twilight thought about what she had just witnessed, and she was thankful that Sumac seemed a bit cheered up by remembering these events. Just as she was about to say something, her keen eyes noticed something out of place standing next to the door, the door which held no marking of any kind.

A little folded paper alicorn. It looked very much like some origami alicorn and it was made from bone-white paper. With a wicker, Twilight walked over to where it was, and when she tried to pick it up, she found that she couldn’t. Sumac however, was able to pick it up, and he did. Together, they examined it with narrowed eyes, and much inquisitive squinting.

“Let’s take it with us,” Twilight suggested, and she saw Sumac nod in agreement.

Turning about, Twilight faced the door, which stood out amidst the vast emptiness. She walked in a circle around it, noting that it had no frame, but the door did have thickness. It was a little over two inches, and she touched the edge with her hoof. She gnawed on her lip for a moment, deep in thought, and then she turned to look at Sumac.

“What if we didn’t want to go through this door?” Twilight asked.

“There is no other door,” Sumac replied.

Wickering, Twilight turned her body about, facing her backside to the door. She looked back over her shoulders, took aim while sticking out her tongue, and bucked the door with all of her might, which was considerable. The door fell over with a muffled thump and the rustle of paper against paper. To satisfy her curiousity, Twilight opened the door and much to her surprise, she found some stairs going down. Of course, the stairs were made of paper.

Lifting her head, Twilight began to study her surroundings, and took note that they were well lit, though there was no sun. “Sumac, where is the light coming from?”

“Well, actually, I’ve been thinking about that, and I believe the light doesn’t exist. We’ve been tricked into believing it exists, probably because we’re immersed in an engrossing story.”

“Thank you, Professor Egghead,” Twilight replied, allowing a bit of her natural sarcasm to shine though. “The light isn’t real. We might not even be real. We’ve been crying tears of ink. For all I know, we might both be standing out in the real world, staring at this book. I wish Trixie was here, she’s better at illusion spells.”

“I have trouble with illusions,” Sumac remarked.

“You’re too honest.”

“You are implying that my mother is dishonest, by extension.”

“Sumac…”

“Yes, Auntie Dearest?”

“Quiet, you.” Grinning, Twilight stuck her tongue out, and she was overjoyed to see that Sumac had returned to whatever passed for him being happy again.

Twilight returned to testing her environment, and she began to examine the paper beneath her hooves. It appeared coarse and a bit pulpy. She lifted a hoof, curious, looked around a bit, and then using her magic, she lanced her own frog. Hissing, she squeezed her tender flesh with her telekinesis, and much to her surprise, black ink began to ooze out. While she stood there, staring, reality began to ripple around her lifted hoof, it was like a stone being dropped into a pond.

A droplet of Twilight’s ink trickled down to the paper floor and did not vanish, but left behind a stain in the paper. Twilight began to feel subtle shifts in her mind and her perceptions began to alter. A flood of knowledge poured into her brain, and she began to know things. The first door had been for both of them, of that there could be no doubt.

The second door they had entered, that had not been for her, but Sumac. What was the lesson? Twilight wasn’t entirely certain, but she knew that Sumac would figure it out in time, because he was smart like that. The third door with Belladonna was not Sumac’s door, but hers, and she began to understand. It was as though a vast ocean of ink was pouring into her paper mind and writing millions of tiny letters all over the crinkles of her paper brain.

As for this door, Twilight understood its purpose, as it now blazed within her mind. Eternity. But other things floated in the vast galaxy that her mind was now becoming. The Nameless One. Twilight Sparkle began to experience a powerful feeling of déjà vu that she found she was quite comfortable with.

Ears pitching and pivoting forwards, Twilight focused on the tiny paper alicorn that Sumac was holding in his telekinesis. “You there,” Twilight said in her most commanding voice. “I demand to know what is going on!”

Author's Note

Forever...

Chapter 6

Twilight Sparkle found herself in a library and there was no sign of Sumac, which made her panic. “SUMAC!” she called out, and then she waited for a reply. When there wasn’t one, she shouted his name again, “SUMAC!” Frightened, her familial auntie worry started to become maternal worry as she began to look around, trying to figure out where she was. Again, she cried out, “SUMAC!” Once more, there was no reply.

The shelves were immense, tall as towers on a castle, and the library seemed to stretch out in all directions, an endless expanse of books. Right in front of her was a book labeled, ‘Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship.’ It was an intriguing book, but she ignored it. Her heart was racing too fast for reading right now. Flapping her wings, she took to the air and flew upwards, hoping to spot a little beige unicorn colt.

It was time to resort to magic. Charging herself up, she focused all of her considerable concentration on conjuring Sumac. The aether here was strange, or maybe it didn’t exist at all. After spending a full minute or more battling with herself to cast a spell, Twilight’s lip curled back into a fierce, ultra-aggressive snarl, revealing her broad, square teeth.

“I AM TWILIGHT FRONKING SPARKLE, THE ELEMENT OF FRONKING MAGIC! I DON’T FRONKING CAST MAGIC, I AM FRONKING MAGIC!”

Twilight Sparkle was absolutely certain that if her mother was here, there would be a thorough washing of her mouth with soap. She ignored her guilt and focused on her anger, finding it a far better medium for current magical artistry. Digging deep, she touched the spark within herself, and magic began coursing through her thaumaturgical system. Her horn flared brighter than Celestia’s sun and smoke swirled up from the tip. Strange, unknown motes of magic orbited around the spiral groove of her horn, and a rushing roar of sound manifested in her ears, like a train thundering down the tracks at top speed.

Sᴜᴍᴀᴄ!

The sound of her own voice terrified her, shook her to her very core, but she didn’t have time to think about it. Her body became a little less than real and she couldn’t tell if she was moving or the library was moving around her. She flew through shelves, though books, picking up speed, and her vision distorted, becoming a tiny bubble in front of her. It was blue in the middle and red near the edges, and she knew that she had to be approaching the speed of light if this was happening.

Twilight was again afraid of her mother, because Twilight Velvet had laid down strict rules about obeying the laws of physics, and those rules were being thoroughly violated right now. How was she going to explain this? How would she survive this? How much had time slowed down? This was why you didn’t break the rules! It could be said that Twilight avoided evil because her mother had raised her with such high expectations and standards, and a healthy fear of maternal wrath saved the world from a Twilight turned Evil.

There was an abrupt, sudden stop, and Twilight found herself nose to spine with a book. The book had a fancy spine, with a zap apple tree near the top, and it was titled, ‘Sumac Apple Lulamoon, Alicorn of Sorcery.’ This wasn’t what she had in mind, not at all, and she let out an angry, impatient huff. Something about the book title seemed off, but in her current state of anger, terror, and panic, she neglected to notice what it was.

Seized with an idea, she yanked the book from its place on the shelf, opened it, and began reading the first few pages. Sure enough, this was a book about Sumac’s life, with every minute detail written down inside. The first few pages were terrifying, unpleasant, and made Twilight even angrier. Exerting her force of will, she forced the book to open to the present, hoping to find Sumac’s location and whereabouts.

With a great and powerful curiousity, Sumac pulled down Pebble Pie’s book from the shelf, opened it, and began to read. He flipped around for a while to satisfy his inquisitiveness, and then figuring out how the magic of the book worked, he found far more interesting things to read, such as the first time that his fillyfriend had masturbated.

“SUMAC APPLE LULAMOON!” Twilight bellowed, a fearsome sound that might very well echo through the library for all of eternity and then perhaps, beyond. Grinding her teeth, she shoved Sumac’s book back into its rightful place, and called forth her magic once more. Understanding a bit more about how this place worked, she shouted another name, knowing it would take her to Sumac. “Pebble Pie!”

Again, the world around her had a blue-red-shift, and she went screaming off to part of the library where Pebble Pie’s book was shelved. This place was huge and she was travelling at super-relative speeds it seemed just to be able to transverse it. When she got to Sumac, she was tempted to give him a lecture. Not just any lecture, but THE LECTURE. The mother of all lectures. When she got done with him, Cadance would need to regrow his ears.

When she laid eyes on Sumac, her heart lept up into her throat and Twilight felt the sort of worry that only a schoolmarm—no—an aunt would feel. She sucked in a deep breath, licked her lips, and then let fly: “SUMAC APPLE LULAMOON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING AND WHY DIDN’T YOU TRY TO FIND ME! I WAS WORRIED! SCARED SICK! I WAS TERRIFIED!”

“I got distracted by the books,” Sumac said in the meekest voice he could muster, perhaps hoping to diffuse Twilight’s explosive fury.

All of Twilight’s anger melted away, receding like winter snows in spring, leaving her conflicted. The lecture was still ready on her tongue, like dragonfire just waiting to spill out to set everything ablaze with her wrath, and all of her aunt-instincts told her to fire at will, but her bookworm instincts told her to be sympathetic. But then, she remembered that Sumac was a perverted adolescent reading up about his fillyfriend’s private activities.

“Sumac, you put that book back or so help me!”

“But—”

“Put it back or I’ll tell Cloudy Quartz what you are doing! She of the Mighty Wooden Spoon!” Twilight’s threat made Sumac’s ears pin back against his head in foalish submission. “I know what you’re reading! I checked out your book to find you!” She sucked in a deep breath, and realised she had questions. “How did you figure out how this place worked? How? How are you so smart? And why must you be so perverted?”

The colt shrugged. “I have magic here. Strong magic. I’ve never been stronger than I am right now, but I also have perfect control for some reason. The magic tells me how this place works. I think it’s my sorcery talent. Are you still mad at me? Am I in trouble? Do I need to beg for my life?” Sumac, still holding Pebble’s book, closed it and looked up at Twilight. “I understand the will and flow of magic, Twilight, you know that. It’s how my hypothesis formed. The magic spoke through me to let us all know there was a problem. You forget stuff when you panic.”

Grunting, Twilight lunged forwards, snatched the smaller colt, and pulled him into a crushing hug. She fought to hold back tears, feeling an overwhelming urge, and she breathed in Sumac’s scent. Growling now, Twilight almost choked and she squeezed Sumac hard enough to make him squeak. Then, Twilight had an idea and it was almost like a lightbulb lit up inside of her head.

Pulling her head back a ways from Sumac she asked, “How do we find Eternity?”

“We go to her book, duh.” Sumac’s voice was strained and he had some trouble getting air. “Are you okay, Auntie Dearest?”

“No!” Twilight’s honesty shocked her, and by the looks of it, Sumac too. A few inky tears escaped from the confines of her eyes and made a run for it down her cheeks. “You stinky little meadow muffin stomper, I should have your mothers ground you forever!”

“I’m sorry.” Sumac’s apology sounded sincere, and there could be no doubt that it was. “You know me, I get distracted by stuff. I have a hard time paying attention sometimes. You were the one that encouraged me to go off on my tangents of discovery.”

“When we get out of here, we’re both going in the corner.” Twilight had to fight to keep her lower lip from quivering and betraying the fact she wanted to sob. When Sumac kissed her on the lips, a quick, familial peck, she sputtered in surprise, as Sumac avoided such acts of affection like the plague. His poor mothers, all three of them, only got to kiss him like that once a year, during Hearth’s Warming, and they all made a big deal about it. It was an occasion, an event that involved pictures, and they spent the rest of the year reminiscing about it.

Hearth’s Warming had come early this year, and Twilight decided to let Sumac off the hook.

“Every life is a story,” Sumac said in a voice almost squeaky with awe. “Every story is a book. This library has every book that has ever existed and will ever exist. The ink flows here and even now, words are being added to more books than I am capable of thinking about. The ink can be guided, or it can be left to fill the pages on its own. The ink has its own sapience, its own will.”

“Sumac, you’re kinda weirding me out right now…”

“I feel really weird, Twilight. I came here, to this place, and something happened. Something changed. I saw my book title. After that, my magic woke up and this place began to obey my will. I suppose that after you see something, there is no unseeing it.” The colt let go of Pebble’s book and it floated off to put itself away. Blinking, he wiggled free of Twilight’s embrace and then looked his aunt in the eye. “I can feel the words being written, Twilight, and if I focus, if I concentrate, I can see them being written inside of my head.”

Now calmer, Twilight tried to focus. At first, there was nothing, but then… in her mind's eye, she saw parchment, and spidery little letters manifested upon it in an endless stream. Who’s stream? What was she reading? Who was she reading? What life was this? What story? What book? What was she seeing?

It dawned upon Twilight Sparkle that she was seeing her own story being written, and with each passing second, more words appeared. With each thought, a stream of letters was unleashed, creating entire paragraphs of living that filled entire pages of her book. Even now, the letters she saw at this minute, these letters, they were the results of her blooming, blossoming awareness.

“Even now, the letters she saw at this minute, these letters, they were the results of her blooming, blossoming awareness,” Sumac said to his aunt in a flat, calm, monotone. “Observing it changes the outcome, and the developing narrative reflects the intrusion of will. Right now, your narrative is about to change, and a few sentences noting and explaining your realisation that what I am saying is true will appear in your book.”

“How?” Twilight asked, flabbergasted.

“I am a sorcerer,” Sumac responded, still calm and collected. “I am the needle in the groove of magic, and I can interpret those grooves, giving them sound. I can only channel the magic presented to me. My hypothesis, my accomplishments, all of it is because magic and I are connected. But your connection is even greater, Twilight… I am merely the needle inserted into the groove. You… you are more like the entire phonograph and you are capable of creating the records you play. You are amplification, force, and fury. And I don’t know where this metaphor is going.”

“Actually, I think I understand,” Twilight said, and she did understand. “Sumac, come… we have a meeting with the author of destiny. The source of all of this… this… Project Eternity.”

“Yes, Twilight, I know. The ink has been corrupted, Twilight. The inkwell is running dry and it is time to be replaced with fresh ink, ink untouched by Grogar’s influence.” The colt’s eyes narrowed, and he began to look around. “I’m ready if you are, Twilight. The ink must flow.”

“Yes, it must,” Twilight agreed, and she had some awareness of what she must do next. Ears twitching, hearing the sound of a thousand quills, a thousand pens, all of which were scratching words onto paper, Twilight began to feel the will, the flow of magic. Looking down at Sumac, she knew that one of them was going to have to become the Librarian of Souls. This was the place where cutie marks originated, where stories developed, where entire lives and purposes were committed to books representing life.

Wings flaring, Twilight’s entire body crackled with arcane energy as she began to believe. Ink dripped from her feathers and the spiral of her horn was now black with the glistening liquid. Sumac’s was as well, and the ink ran down their faces, staining them, turning them black, giving them ink-blot masks that were ever-changing.

“Eternity,” Twilight said, breathing the word through her lips and teeth.

At first, nothing happened, but then the magic began to manifest...

Author's Note

Next chapter: the well runs dry.

Chapter 7

The book looked withered, ancient, and old. The bindings appeared to be crumbling a bit, the cover was cracked, and the yellowed, faded pages had seen better days. The spine was damaged and the title of the book had been scraped off, leaving behind scars and curious scabs made of ink. Twilight opened the book, and it opened to the end, where the present happened to be. Not many pages were left.

“An old mare lies dying, approaching her last breath,” she read aloud. Frowning, she looked down at Sumac, and saw worry on his face. After a moment, she returned her eyes to the book and continued, “She eagerly awaits her guests, her final guests before her brother comes to claim her. One of them is her Champion, the other she has high hopes for.”

“Pale is coming,” Sumac said, his voice a soft, sorrowful whine. “I mean, I’ll be happy to see him, but these are awful circumstances.”

Twilight did not even need to ask. Before the question rose into her mind, she had her answer. She knew what needed to be done to reach Eternity… the Nameless One. Her orange tongue slipped out from between her lips, and she stared at the spine of the book she held after she had turned it over. The title of the book had been carved away, destroyed, and this book needed a new title. She closed it, and the crushing weight of sadness settled upon her withers.

Either her name or Sumac’s name had to go there.

But there was still time before committing to such an act. Twilight lifted the book, stretched it out, making it longer and wider, until the book was the size of a door. The book-door hovered above the floor, now glowing with a faint light, and ink bled from its pages, the precious blood of purpose. With a gentle nudge, Twilight pushed the door open, and glorious light came spilling out.

Beyond the door was a peaceful looking paper cottage made of paper stones, a peaceful, serene, pastoral paradise made of paper. It was exactly the sort of place that Twilight expected. Tears of ink rolled down her cheeks, and she knew that she approached the end. The end of this adventure, the end of a life, and, if she and Sumac did not come to consensus on what to do, the end of the world, perhaps.

It was Sumac who went through the door first, fearless as always…

Twilight Sparkle wasn’t the least bit afraid of paper cuts from the blades of paper grass that crinkled beneath her hooves. She approached the cottage and with each step taken, she felt more and more peculiar. She was coming home. A place she had never been before was home. This place was familiar, and she had spent thousands of years here. Her brothers stopped by for tea and conversation once in awhile. Paper posies, petunias, and violets waved at her from their window boxes.

“Twilight, I’ve been here before,” Sumac said as he charged ahead.

She started to say something, started to reply, but Sumac reached the door and threw it open. The colt didn’t bother to knock or even announce himself, he just walked in, and Twilight quickened her pace, hurrying to catch up to Sumac. Reaching the door, she paused, and felt her heart thumping in her throat.

There was a single room with a table, a few cushioned stools, a couch, and in the corner was a bed, which Sumac was climbing up onto. In the paper bed was a paper mare with her head resting upon a fluffy paper pillow. She was smiling, but it was a weak, pain-filled smile. Seeing it caused a cold steel spike to pierce through Twilight’s heart, and she gasped.

“Hi!” Sumac said to the paper mare as he made himself comfortable on the bed beside her. “My name is Sumac Apple and this is my aunt, Twilight Sparkle. Sorry it took so long to reach you, but you made it difficult.”

Twilight started to sputter, shocked by Sumac’s somewhat scolding accusation, but the old mare began laughing. It was a wheezy sound, a bit phlegmy, which was odd, and it rustled like paper rubbing together. Once more, as many times before, Twilight didn’t know what was going on. The events of life left her confuzzled on so many occasions.

“You’re just in time,” the old mare said, “to make my last moments a bit more bearable. Of course, it was you coming here that killed me… had you been delayed, I would have lingered just a little bit longer in this state of near-death.”

“I’m sorry.” Sumac’s apology was heartfelt, and his ears sagged.

“You shouldn’t be.” The old mare tried to lift her head, but failed. She struggled to breathe and the sound of crinkling, rumpling paper filled the tiny one roomed cottage. “Look at you. Such a nice colt. Lemon Hearts has saved both you and your mother from a terrible future, just as I knew she would.”

“Trixie?” Sumac’s face wrinkled with concern.

“A mother will go to great lengths to protect her foals,” the old mare replied, and she heaved a troubled sigh. “She’ll do things. Sometimes, terrible things. Awful things. I’ve done incomprehensible things to protect my daughters.”

“Why are you dying?” Twilight blurted out, and her own words startled her.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Twilight Fronking Sparkle.” The old mare’s tongue clucks fell upon Twilight like striking blows, and she flinched each time it happened. “You know why. Why, if I could get out of the bed, I’d spank your little purple plot with a wooden spoon for trying to weasel your way into an easy answer. That does not become you.”

“I’m sorry!” Twilight bleated, and she stood there in the doorway, her heart thumping in her barrel in the most painful way.

Knowledge lept into Twilight’s mind, a book manifested, and she began to comb though its pages. It was the book with no name, the very book she held, but she wasn’t reading it with her eyes. With concentration and focus, the answer to her question manifested, and she felt her heart being squeezed by the now unwanted knowledge.

“Radiant Hope came here!” Twilight shouted. “A long, long time ago… she came here, but she wasn’t powerful enough on her own. She used… she used an amplifier, a crystal focusing rod.” Twilight felt her mouth go dry. “It had some of Grogar’s soul hidden inside of it, because somehow Grogar knew that she would seek you out someday. Radiant Hope came here hoping to find a way to save Sombra…”

“And Grogar’s essence came into my realm, tainting my ink. I began dying for the second time that day.” The old mare’s head sagged into her paper pillow, and she closed her eyes. “He had already destroyed my body, and he found a way to come and finish me off long after he was dead. He is a powerful enemy, the worst this world will ever face.”

“For her crime against life itself, Radiant Hope was cursed with life, and Sombra chose to share her punishment,” Twilight whispered while she shook her head, and she had trouble comprehending the punishment, as Radiant Hope had not gained an immortal’s perception of time to go with her immortality. It was just about the most awful thing she could think of to do to a pony. Black, inky tears began to spill down Twilight’s cheeks once more while she pondered this terrible fate, sentenced to life.

“Pale will be here soon,” Sumac announced.

“Both of you are beginning to converge.” The old mare’s eyes opened and she struggled to take a few more ragged breaths before she said, “Even the illusion of life is persistent. I haven’t needed to breathe in years, but I can’t seem to give up the habit. Every part of me was created to preserve life… and I just… can’t… let go…”

“One of us must become your replacement.” Twilight stepped into the room proper and shut the door behind her, now recovering some of her grace as well as her presence of mind. She moved closer to the bed, fearful, no, not fearful, terrified, because her mind was becoming a confusing jumble of memories that were not all hers.

“To become me, one of you must go back to the beginning of my book. You must see what I have seen, experience what I have experienced, you must walk the many paths that I have walked. The only way to become me is to shadow me, following me as I become who I am. It will be a long journey.” The old mare’s horn flicked with a faint, feeble light, and she lifted Sumac’s foreleg with her magic so that she might have a better look. “You have adorable little socks!”

The colt blushed, but said nothing.

“He can’t see them,” Twilight said, being helpful.

“But they’re so obvious!” the old paper mare replied, wheezing out each word. Her barrel rose and fell beneath her paper comforter, and she pulled Sumac’s foreleg into her own, holding him with her paper fetlocks. “Oh, to feel the life of another again. It’s been a long time.” She clutched his foreleg, allowing it to rest upon her barrel, and a look of peaceful contentment settled over her tortured face.

Twilight’s mind was abuzz with knowledge, some of it from the past, some of it from the present, and perhaps most curious of all, the future. She was beginning to think… with ink. The old mare was hiding something though, Twilight’s intuition told her that the Nameless One was preventing her from seeing certain outcomes. Why? The pages were blocked, the books remained shut.

“You had to destroy your name.” Sumac’s voice was now deeper, a quirk of adolescent fluctuation. “A long time ago, you had to destroy your name and make ponies forget you. Very few remember you now. It’s weird, but I understand why. I can see books inside of my head if I try real hard.”

“My name couldn’t overshadow my eventual replacement. I knew the day was coming, one way or another. The taint had to end with me. Taking up my name would mean taking up my tainted mantle.” The old mare sighed, a rattling sound, and she looked up into Sumac’s eyes. “Pale is a hard pony to be friends with, isn’t he?”

“Oh, I dunno, I like him.” Sumac shrugged.

“You are kind, colt… so very kind. You are the son of Lemon Hearts.” The old mare was now struggling to even wheeze, and her voice was growing faint. “Come closer, Twilight, so that I might look upon your face with these old eyes.”

Doing as she was told, Twilight leaned over the bed, her mind overflowing with all manner of knowledge. She looked into the eyes of the old mare, the colourless, featureless paper eyes with no detail. The paper of her eyes was wrinkled and a bit tattered looking, but everything on the old mare looked old and rumpled.

“It should be me,” Twilight said, her voice soft with sorrow and worry. “I’m more suited to this task. As an alicorn, I am far more suited to follow in the steps of another alicorn. Sumac should not be the one to bear this burden.”

“Is that so?” the old mare asked, and she began to chuckle.

Moving with terrifying supernatural speed, the old mare reached up one crinkly foreleg, the paper tearing from her sudden, unexpected movement. Ink began to pour from the rip, and she booped Sumac on the nose with her paper hoof. The colt went cross-eyed, let out a startled cry, fell over backwards, and tumbled off of the bed, which was now stained with ink. The Nameless One howled with laughter, shaking both her and her bed.

On the floor, Sumac squirmed around and shouted, “Auntie Twily, I feel really fronking weird!”

More ink flowed from the tear in the old mare, and it began to pour down the side of the bed now, soaking into the paper comforter. Twilight watched in horror, knowing what was about to happen to the old mare. She was bleeding out, spilling out the remains of her life. Booping Sumac was the act that killed her, and had Sumac not arrived, she would have lingered on the verge of death for quite a while longer.

“AAAAAAAAAAARGH! TWILIGHT!” Sumac, now standing up, wobbled on his legs. His sides tore open, like paper tearing, and black ink spilled from the wounds. “OOOOOOOOH THIS FEELS SUPER-WEIRD!” While the colt spoke, paper began to protrude from the wounds, little curls of parchment with sharp points.

The Nameless One continued to laugh, a hysterical howl, and her frail body rocked from side to side in her bed. The ink pouring from her tear was slowing now, and Twilight stood there, stunned, shaking her head, her lips moving, forming the word ‘no’ over and over, but to no avail.

More paper emerged from the holes in Sumac’s sides while the colt danced in place, mewling with panic. As the paper began to uncurl, forming feathers, wings began to take shape. The colt howled in terror as the old paper mare began coughing while she laughed. Black ink flecked her lips and her legs began thrashing in the bed.

With a gurgle of bubbling ink, the mare once known as Eternity was no more, having failed to live up to her namesake. Her book vanished from Twilight’s grasp, and was returned to its shelf.

With her passing, Twilight felt it. Magic was dying too. All magic. The well of magic, the font of magic, it would go dry. What magic remained in the world would radiate for a time, but eventually, it would deplete, and magic would cease to be. There was a crinkle of paper from Sumac as his paper wings flapped, and Twilight was too overwhelmed to do much of anything, as she reeled from the sudden death of what made who and what she was.

Twilight made a decision, the most horrible decision she had ever had to endure in her life. Turning about, she faced Sumac, and watched as his paper wings began to transmogrify into bone, flesh, and feathers. Still under the magic of the convergence, she knew that Sumac would resist her, and Pale was on the way.

“Sumac, I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Twilight looked into his eyes while he thrashed about, still adjusting to his new body.

“No!” Sumac, fighting to keep his balance, snarled in defiance. “You have Seville and Pinkie Pie! You have your entire school! All of Equestria needs you!”

“And I will be there,” Twilight replied in a calm voice. Thinking with ink, she realised that Sumac had failed to grasp how this ended, how time was more of a loop. “Sumac, my beloved nephew, I have to go away.”

“NO!”

Twilight felt her body being seized with powerful magic, but she shrugged it off.

“I’m not letting you do this to yourself!” Sumac shrieked. “Thousands and thousands of years without end, without your friends and those you love! Let it be me! Let me do this!”

Once more, Twilight felt the tingle of magic creeping around her body. “Do you really want to do this?” She narrowed her eyes at her nephew. “Do you really wish to carry this burden?”

“No, but I can’t bear the thought of you doing this, and I won’t let you!” Sumac’s wings were now all flesh and blood, and the rips in his sides had closed. Black tears rolled down his cheeks, forming inky puddles on the floor. “You’ve done so much for me! Let me do this for you! You can be with Seville and Pinkie Pie! You can be a mom! My life means nothing compared to yours!”

Sumac’s magic had grown by leaps and bounds, and Twilight could feel the crushing constriction all around her. Words flowed through her mind, whole sentences, paragraphs, and she knew that her nephew was going to try and cripple her, breaking her wings and legs if necessary. She wasn’t mad at him—no—she was proud of him, and she loved him for being so selfless.

The door opened and a pale pony appeared in the doorway.

Twilight shrugged off Sumac’s magic and then, feeling a keen sense of regret, she paralysed him, but only just a little, just enough to make her point. “Sumac, I have to go away, but I promise, when you step out of this book, I’ll be waiting for you. I love you, and as your aunt, I must do what is best for you.”

“NO!” Sumac tumbled to the floor, collapsing in a heap, his wings fluttering against his sides. “NO!” His horn glowed, but nothing happened. “I HATE YOU FOR WHAT YOU ARE DOING!”

Ears sagging, Twilight’s head dropped a little, and the words stung more than she would ever admit. “I love you for what you tried to do,” she replied. “I have to go away now. Magic has to be restored before there is a crisis. I must do what must be done. I have to go away, back to the beginning, so that I can become what I choose to be.”

“Don’t do this,” Sumac begged, shaking his head from side to side, using what limited movement he had to try and convince Twilight.

Millions of words, many of them bearing fresh ink poured into Twilight’s head, and she struggled to deal with the rapid expansion of her mind. “Your friend, Pale, I think he needs you—”

“I need you!” Sumac whined. “If you’re stuck in the past, I won’t have you!”

Blinking, Twilight realised that Sumac still did not understand, he did not see. He was too emotional and far too distraught to be logical. His ability to cogitate had been impaired. Relaxing her will, she withdrew some of her magic from him, lowered her head down, and kissed him on his snoot. While she lifted her head she said, “I promise, I’ll be waiting for you when you come out of the book, Sumac.”

“Pinkie Promise?” Sumac looked up at his aunt with pleading eyes while his new wings flapped against his sides.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye—OW!” Twilight squinted and danced around on three hooves while keeping her injured eye squeezed shut. “Every time… every fronking time! Damnit damnit damnit!”

“It hurts to commit to things,” Sumac said, his voice breaking and his ears sagging from his aunt’s profanity.

“I have to go away now.” Twilight rubbed her eye, wincing, and she glanced over at Pale, who had a stricken expression on his face. “Mister, your sister… she had to play one final prank before she left. She died laughing… that’s the final words in her book, if that is any consolation.”

Pale offered a grief-laced smile, and gave Twilight a nod. “It means more than you know.”

Eternity was now little more than a paper husk, a parchment replacement of her former self. Upon her first death, she became less than eternal, losing her name, and then she had died a second death. Twilight knew that her second death was far more enjoyable than her first, and this was comforting somehow.

Much to Twilight’s surprise, Pale did not go to his sister’s remains, but instead, kneeled down upon the ink-stained paper floor to comfort Sumac, who lay weeping in a heap. It was time to go, time to go away, time to retreat into the past to follow in Eternity’s footsteps. More than words were pouring into her head, but new books were being added to her library. New lives had just been born, and there were new books to be filled with words. Every life was a story, and every story was a book.

“My sister is no more,” Pale said to Twilight while he hugged Sumac. “The Nameless One is now gone, her book finished. Who are you and what have you become?”

I ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴘᴀʀᴋʟᴇ. I ᴀᴍ Tᴡɪʟɪɢʜᴛ Sᴘᴀʀᴋʟᴇ, Lɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Fʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ.

And with that, Twilight allowed herself to vanish, to be pulled back into the past so that she could start anew at the beginning, and as she faded away, she knew that she had a promise to keep. After all, one of the most important friendship lessons she had learned was that breaking a promise to a friend was the fastest way to lose a friend, forever.

The number of alicorns in the cottage was reduced to two.

Author's Note

She's going to need an eyepatch at this rate.

Epilogue

Wiping her eyes, Twilight Sparkle thought about what it meant to keep a promise. For the past few eons, the words spoken by her nephew echoed in her head: “It hurts to commit to things.” He was right—he was absolutely right—and she was all too familiar now with the pain of committing to her actions. She had seen things… wonderful things… terrible things. She had seen equinity at its best, and at its worst. An endless number of heroes had paraded past, and a countless number of villains had monologued.

Now, she had returned, having reached the point of her own departure.

Any moment now, she would fulfill her promise that she had made to Sumac. Still wiping her eyes with her foreleg, she thought about her friends, those she loved more than anything, she thought about her family, all of them, and most of all, she thought of Spike. The little dragon that was her first best friend would be the first she would tell, after her reunion with her nephew.

A pale glow surrounded the book, and Twilight waited, still sniffling. She was free to resume her normal life now, to reveal herself, to be herself. She had shadowed her mentor to learn the job, she could even become paper now, a powerful conduit for the ink, and she had preserved the ebb and flow of magic. Grogar’s taint still persisted in the world, but the source of magic, the wellspring, inkwell, had been purified. The stories being written now would no longer be jotted down in corrupted ink.

It was time to return to the here and now, so Twilight did. The ink would continue to flow and the words would scribe themselves. It was best if Twilight distanced herself from the process, so everything would happen as it was meant to be, without interference. She did retain some small awareness though, and right now, the paragraph she had waited for was starting to form…

The book opened, motes of magic began to swirl about, and then Sumac popped into existence with a sound like a cork being unstoppered. He stood there, blinking, confused, and blinded. Twilight did not give him a chance to recover and she was on him in seconds, causing the colt to cry out while she swept him up into a crushing hug.

“HOW?” Sumac shouted, his wings squirming and fluttering against his sides. “You had to go back to the beginning!”

“I did,” Twilight replied, “and from the beginning, I came here.”

“I don’t understand”—Sumac’s voice was a whimpering whisper of confusion as well as pain—“you just left a few moments ago.”

“And time has looped around. Now shut up and let me hug you. It’s been a long, long time for me.” Twilight laughed—an almost strangled sound—and she fought back more tears. With her wings, she pulled Sumac as close to her as possible, and she pressed her cheek up against the side of his head. “Cadance was even younger than you when she defeated Prismia. Everything will be okay, Sumac, everything will be fine.”

Twilight sat down on the floor and pulled Sumac down with her. She clung to him, needing him, needing to feel the warmth of another living pony after her eons-long sojourn. The feeling of her castle beneath her, of having a physical body once more, it was all too much and her emotions became a roiling caldera.

“Are you immortal now?” Sumac asked in a ragged, worried whisper.

“I don’t know,” Twilight responded with all of the honesty she could muster. “I am not Eternity. For a time, I chose not to age, at least until I got caught up again. Now, I might. And once this body gets tired and needs its final sleep, I will grow beyond it. But I don’t know what that means, just yet.”

“I can still feel the ink, Twilight.” Sumac pulled his head away and looked into Twilight’s eyes. “I can still feel some of the magic. Will it ever go away?”

“No.” Twilight shook her head. “But you don’t need to worry. None of your plans will change. You will still become the pony that you want to be. That was Eternity’s final gift to you… I understand that now. She gave you enough of her power so that you could write your own future, your own destiny, so you can be happy. She did it because you made her happy.”

“I… don’t… I don’t know what to say about that.”

“The things I’ve seen…” Twilight’s words trailed off and she shook her head.

When words failed her, Twilight looked into Sumac’s eyes, peering past the darkened lenses of his spectacles, and staring into the pools of vivid, bottle-glass green. It was then that she saw it, the subtle change done to his irises and his limbal rings. The little lines and crinkles were stained with ink, as were the rings. Sumac, like her, had touched the very wellspring of magic, and had been forever changed.

“How am I going to explain what happened?” Sumac asked. “And you… how are you going to explain all of this? How will you tell everypony?” There will be so many questions—”

Twilight placed a hoof over Sumac’s lips, silencing him. “For now, we’re going to keep what happened to me a secret, okay? I’ve spent many long years away from those I love, and the last thing I want to deal with is a bunch of questions. I’ll tell them in time… once I’ve recovered. As for you, I suppose a little fuss can’t be avoided. I guess we need to talk about what to tell them.”

“Or we tell them nothing,” Sumac said in a low, flat voice. “I’ve been through a lot, and you’ve been through a lot, and if I’m to be completely honest, I don’t feel like answering a bunch of questions either. I just want my mamas. Especially Lemon. I need to say thank you a whole bunch of times.”

Twilight realised that Spike would have to wait a little longer.

“Come, Sumac… it’s time to take you home.”

Author's Note

Do not worry, this storyline will be continued... at another time, in another place...

Chapter 4

Beyond the door, Twilight found herself in a dark place, a place that she knew very little about. The headquarters for the Stiff Upper Lip Society. It was difficult to walk with a foal clinging to one’s leg, but somehow, she managed. She could feel Sumac trembling, and with each breath there was a whimper. This had been a black day for him—for all involved—and she hoped that she could see him through this, whatever it might be.

With each step, she thought about what she had just witnessed, about how everything has consequences, how each little event can contribute to outcomes never imagined. Twilight’s reflections were interrupted by the shocking number of bodies that she just noticed, so many limp bodies all in a pile. The alicorn mare’s mouth dropped open when she took in the whole scene as she came around the corner. Dozens of dead bodies all in a heap, forming a wall around three foals backed into a corner. On the other side of the wall of bodies was a mare that Twilight truly hated.

“Well, this certainly complicates things. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave here with my prizes. No matter, I can still do what’s needed.” Belladonna let out a sniff of contempt and one perfect eyebrow arched. “Those foolish ascension alicorns will rue the day they interfered with my plans.”

Twilight had trouble taking all of this in. She knew a little, but not much of what had happened this day. Sumac had redoubled his grip around her foreleg almost to the point of discomfort, but she did not begrudge him. His laboured breathing made her ears twitch and she could feel the dampness of his tears against her pelt. No doubt, those tears were inky.

“The gun,” Sumac whimpered.

Eyes darting around, Twilight looked for a glint of metal. She searched among the bodies, her sharp alicorn eyes taking in every horrific detail, all of these creatures had died defending Sumac, Pebble, and Moon Rose. In the talons of a fallen griffon, she saw it; the blued glint of metal. Her heart lept up into her throat, she lifted her head, and she looked into little Sumac’s eyes, the Sumac who was trying to defend the two fillies behind him.

“No…” Twilight breathed the word and she felt Sumac’s now violent spasming against her leg. She stood watching, almost breathless, as Belladonna began to concentrate to cast a spell. This event was one that Twilight dreaded, this was the time that Sumac, Pebble, and Moon Rose had parts of their souls torn away, so their talents, their unique magic could be exploited.

When the ominous click came from the gun, Twilight almost lost control of her bowels and her bladder. Sumac, having just turned six, was pointing the revolver at his mother, and his lip was curled back in a snarl. Belladonna looked surprised, and who could blame her? Her own son was pointing a gun at her.

“And just what do you think you are doing?” Belladonna demanded.

Sumac did not reply and the gun trembled in his telekinesis.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you didn’t get your father’s natural cowardice.” Belladonna’s voice dripped with malice and contempt. “I hated your father… hated him… but that silver tongue of his… he made me love him… then you came along and I hated you both… him forcing himself on me, and you… because you’re a reminder of what he did!”

The Sumac clinging to Twilight’s leg was bawling now, and he had fallen to the floor, his forelegs wrapped around Twilight’s hoof.

“I hate you more,” little Sumac said while he kept the gun pointed at his mother.

“I don’t think you have the stones,” Belladonna said, and then she let out a contemptuous cackle to spite her son.

Twilight knew different. Sumac had issues because of his bravery. Some might even call him foolhardy. The colt did dumb things because he didn’t have a lick of common sense when it came to self-preservation. She had endured so many headaches because of Sumac’s near suicidal sense of bravery, and Twilight delighted in the fact that Belladonna was about to get a firsthoof lesson in Sumac’s sometimes annoying peculiarities.

“Twilight, I’m sorry!” Sumac whined while he clung to her hoof. “I was scared! I hate that I did this! I’m so sorry! Please, don’t be disappointed with me! All I could think about was keeping the others safe!”

—BANG!—

Even though she was waiting for it, the sound made her jump out of her skin. There was a blinding, brilliant flash from the gun, which tumbled from Sumac’s telekinetic grip. It clattered to the floor with a metallic clunk, and little Sumac’s face was now one of shocked horror mixed with disbelief. Twilight felt a lot of things at that moment, fear, terror, shock, sadness, sorrow, and pride. It burned within her breast like a white hot coal and made her heart thump hot against her ribs.

Not far away, Belladonna looked a bit shaken and a whole lot startled while she held the bullet in front of her nose, looking at it with crossed eyes that were wide with disbelief. After a few moments, her eyes uncrossed and she looked over at her son while rage began to distort her features.

“No… no… no… no!” Sumac, clinging to Twilight’s leg, began to shake his head. “No, it’s my fault what happens next… no… this is all my fault… I made this happen… Twilight, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!”

Twilight didn’t know what was going on, but cold terror made her belly begin to prickle. She sat down, lifted Sumac, pulled him closer, and tried to soothe him by nuzzling his ear. He was a mess, a sobbing, convulsing mess, and it seemed that no matter what she did, she could not bring him a measure of comfort.

“You know, I’d beat your little ass like I used to when you were little, but I don’t think it’d do me any good… I do know one way to hurt you though, I think… yes… I think I know how to put you in your place!”

“This is my fault!” Sumac shrieked. “Make it stop, Twilight! Make it stop! I can’t bear to go through this again!”

Wrapping her wings around Sumac, Twilight tried to shield him from whatever was about to happen, and she watched in absolute dread as Belladonna stepped over the many bodies that lay between her and the three foals. The gun was snatched up, held up, the bullets were removed, and then she flung the gun away.

Try as she might, Twilight could not think of a way to stop this.

“They’re raising you to be noble,” Belladonna said to her son as she loomed over him. “As your mother, I feel like it’s my duty to teach you the folly in being noble. Allow me to demonstrate and show you the consequences of your actions.”

Saying nothing else, the dark, dusky orange mare picked up Pebble in her magic, and the filly kicked and thrashed. Then, much to Twilight’s terror, Pebble began shrieking, letting out blood-curdling screams of pain while magic arced and crackled up and down her body. Even worse was the look of pain on Sumac’s face, little Sumac, and Twilight knew that he had to be thinking that this was his fault.

Twilight offered the only comfort she could. “Sumac! This isn’t your fault! You didn’t do this to Pebble! I’m proud of you for being defiant!” She pulled Sumac closer, trying to scoop up all of his dangl-gangliness and squeezed him as tight as she could. “I don’t think Pebble blames you either! She loves you! You shouldn’t be ashamed of this! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

Pebble’s screams intensified, but she too, showed signs of defiance. While she couldn’t stop shrieking in agony, she did aim all of her punches and kicks at Belladonna, even though she was too far away to do any good. Little Sumac collapsed, his expression going blank, and he lay on the floor, overwhelmed and unresponsive, curled up in a fetal position, his ears twitching with every screech made by Pebble.

“Not so noble now, are you?” Belladonna asked, her voice dripping with sadistic glee while she continued to torture Pebble. “Look at how weak this has made you! Not so noble now!”

“YES HE IS!” Twilight bellowed and the force of her voice caused everything to tremble as though an earthquake had happened. The scene froze, all movement ceased, and the only sound that could be heard was the wracking, tooth-clattering sobs of Sumac while he wept in Twilight’s protective embrace.

“Sumac, sometimes, when you do the right thing, others might suffer because of what you’ve done. It’s a painful fact of life. It’s awful, and horrible, and it isn’t fair, but it happens, and you have to work past it. Many have suffered because of my actions and because of things I’ve done. This is why you have to have friends… they’ll help you recover.”

A vast pool of ink had collected upon the floor and the lights shimmered in its murky surface. Twilight surveyed this scene—now frozen in time—and her love for Sumac grew stronger. He had borne this burden on his shoulders for many long years now, keeping it to himself, carrying the weight of his actions, and living with the consequences.

Every time he looked at Pebble, every time he kissed her, every time he touched her, he had to be reminded of these black events… and yet, he still loved Pebble. Twilight pressed her muzzle to Sumac’s ear, breathed a bit to control her emotions, and then kissed him, hoping to offer some reassurance.

In the middle of this realisation, the colour around them began to drain away and the world returned to paper. Twilight watched as it happened—she was exhausted and drained—but she somehow knew there was still quite a ways to go before this was over. With her current awakening, all these thoughts racing through her mind, she wasn’t so sure that this scene was intended for Sumac. Oh, he might benefit from it, and in time, he might find some peace from having her support, but there was a lingering feeling of intuition that all of this had played out for her sake.

“You are so very special to me, Sumac,” Twilight whispered, her lips brushing up against his ear while she held him. “You and so many others. I love all of you so much. I’m sorry that this happened. When I sent you away to the Rock Farm, I didn’t know that everything had been compromised. I was so confident in my own planning, I was so self assured… if anything, all of this is my fault, because at the time, I was overconfident and believed my well-thought out plans were infallible.”

“I never blamed you,” Sumac replied in a phlegmy gargle. “I won’t blame you now, either.”

“That means a lot to me.” Twilight relaxed her wings a little bit, turned Sumac around, and looked into his face. Everything, now paper, began to fold away, as this chapter of the book was now over. “Sumac, where is Boomer? She wasn’t here? What happened? By the time you got home, you had Boomer again.”

Sniffling, Sumac shuddered a bit, and tried to pull himself together so that he might better answer Twilight’s question. He coughed a few times, hiccuped, and let out a weary sigh. “At the Rock Farm, when we were under attack and everything was all crazy, Long Ears and Kabuki prayed for assistance before what was sure to be what they called a kamikaze run. They called out to their god…”

“And what happened?” Twilight asked.

“Their god showed up,” Sumac replied.

“But what happened exactly?”

“The Black Hound came out of nowhere with her zebra. It was terrifying… she just sort of… appeared in the darkness. I couldn’t tell what was black shadow and what was Black Hound. She had a big green sword and she shot out these chains made of shadows to grab her enemies and drag them so she could chop them to bits. There was a whole lot of blood all of a sudden.”

“What happened to Boomer?” Twilight began to rub Sumac’s neck, and she was glad that he was starting to be himself again.

“She jumped on the back of the zebra and they charged off into battle together.”

“Oh.” Twilight couldn’t find any meaningful words to say. “Oh.”

“We got sent away… to the safehouse. The last I saw of Boomer that night, she was riding into a huge army of horrible things, and it was really hard to see because I was crying.”

Once more, Twilight began cleaning up Sumac’s face, and with her wings, she began wiping at her own. Both of them had cried many tears of ink—Twilight noticed with great curiousity that Sumac’s face now had slight stains in the corners of his eyes and on his cheeks. She wondered if her face now had stains as well. She didn’t know what the stains meant or implied, but she now worried a bit now that she had noticed them. When ink permeated into paper, when it soaked into parchment, it left behind a mark. Those marks formed words, or symbols, and those formed ideas.

Now, there was only empty paper in all directions, and once more, there was a door…

Author's Note

For the record, this was, in fact, Twilight's door. She saw the consequences of her actions and she owned them.