“So Princess,” the mare seated opposite Twilight said, “tell us about your books.”

The two sat in front of a large crowd, and Twilight could hear the shuffling of hooves and low murmur of voices in the Canterlot street. She could hardly believe that they’d all come to see the signing of her new book series, though, to be honest, it was more likely that they were just there for the Princess herself. Thinking over her words, she too shuffled her hooves on the rough wood of the chair before beginning her answer.

“Twilight. Please,” she requested, and sat up a bit. “Well, this book series is aimed at young foals, really. It’s mainly educational material for magic kindergarten, or any sort of kindergarten, actually.” She took a breath, “The books’ main purpose is to introduce fillies and colts into the basics, and then later, workings of Equestrian society and alike. So, as you’ll see by the spines, the books are numbered age-accordingly, so don’t expect the early ones, or even the later ones, for that matter, to represent the extent of my writing ability.” She gained somewhat of a chuckle for that, including one from the sandy-coated mare who was interviewing her.

The mare, Sunrise Fell, picked up one of the books. “Now, I understand you’ve published literature before, but never for an audience this young. What inspired you to write this set of books outside your usual demographic?” While asking this, she flicked through the pages of the book in her hooves, flashing its colourful pages. Twilight recognised it as the first book in the series.

“Um. I suppose I just want everypony to get the best education they can possibly have,” Twilight started, turning to look at the audience. “I know that not everypony is like me in the way that they would read the entire works of Hoffendell at the age of three, but by introducing ponies to important concepts at young ages in fun and enjoyable ways, I’m sure that their knowledge would be greatly improved, and education would be much easier. Perhaps by improving the way we educate foals, we can hope to improve the next generation of Equestrians.” Sunrise nodded her head a little at that, and a few stomps could be heard in the audience.

“Well, Twilight, I think I speak for all of us here when I ask if you could give us a little preview of these books.” She hoofed Twilight the book she held, and sat back in her seat.

“Err, sure,” Twilight sat up and slightly extended her wings. “Bear in mind, though, this is the first book in the series; it’s not exactly going to be anything advanced. ” She breathed out and turned to the first page.

In heart and might an Earth Pony is strong.

Some plow the land so we can eat yearlong.

Some close reside within our company,

Though all balance our hearts in harmony

With speed and skill a Pegasus takes flight.

Some sway the clouds and evening winds excite.

In gentle soul, some weave community,

But spryly each join us in unity

Power in mind and horn Unicorns bear.

Some, passionate, will wield artistic flare.

Some read and write to push understanding,

Yet every aids our friendship’s expanding.

While these are the ponies who found our land,

Some ponies have both magic in horn and

The strength of earth. With wings also, they’re known

As Alicorns, and our accord they’ve sewn.

The gathering of ponies gave a collective applaud as Twilight closed her book. Nervously, she looked back at Sunrise, and faintly raised the corners of her mouth. The interviewing pony clapped her hooves, returning Twilight’s smile.

“Amazing, Twilight. I’m sure any foal would enjoy that poetic start to your series.” She took back the book from Twilight and flicked, once again, through its contents. “Now, it’s clear you couldn’t have read them aloud, but it’s worth mentioning that these books also have illustrations, beautiful ones, if I may add”

“Oh, yes. Those are by my friend, Rarity,” she explained. “They are quite.”

“Rarity the fashion designer?” Sunrise sat up.

“The very same. In fact,” she turned back away from the large herd ahead of her, indicating the white mare with her hoof, “she’s here today.” The unicorn in question stifled a blush, and delivered a light smile to the crowd.

“Really?” Sunrise asked, accompanying Twilight’s gaze. “Come up here, Rarity!” She inquired. Trotting over to the front of the stage, Rarity sat next to the two mares, and looked back and forth between the pair, hesitantly. “What do you have to say about your illustrations, then.”

“What do I have to say?” Rarity echoed. Sunrise hadn’t really left much space for an answer, and she was struggling to think of what to tell. “Well… This is my first time illustrating a book, or, come to think of it, publishing any type of art. I’d like to think I did well, and you’ll notice that it implements a lot of fashion. Stick to what you know, and all that.” With that, she moved her hoof in a circular motion, and looked over to Twilight. “I think, bearing in mind the poetic feel Twilight was going for, I tried to make minimalistic yet colourful illustrations that represented the feel of the ideas she was trying to represent.” She exhaled, and nodded at the mass of Canterlot ponies.

“Yes, well, it certainly looks like that,” Sunrise concluded. “How about we open up to some questions, then?”

“Sure,” Twilight smiled. Several hooves in the audience rose at this suggestion. Twilight turned, and combed the sea of forelegs for a reasonable question. “You,” she said, aiming her hoof at a brown pegasus, “with the brown coat and dark mane.” The hooves lowered, and a microphone hovered over to the selected Stallion. He jumped up, grabbed the microphone, coughed into his wing and spoke.

“Hi,” he began. “I was thinking of buying your books for my two foals. I’m a little afraid that they’ll be too young for them.” The pegasus lowered the microphone and looked patiently at Twilight.

Twilight shook her head. “That’s quite understandable. I probably didn’t make it clear, but this book series has 42 entries. More than one for each year, mind.” She gave a slight laugh, and wiped her mouth. “If your foals are too old for the younger books, I’m sure they can find some pleasure in the older ones.”

“Thanks,” The stallion gave a smile, before releasing the microphone, returning it to the air. The hooves raised aloft once more, and Twilight again searched the crowed for promising hoof.

“Um,” she pointed at a reddish-maned earth pony, “how about the mare over there - the red one.” Following her indication, the microphone floated over to the pony. She caught it in her hoof and gave a small smile. Twilight couldn’t help but notice, however, her somewhat confused expression.

“Thank you.” She smiled again, despite her apparent confusion. “I just want to confirm something. I’m a university graduate from Canterlot, and well I’m a bit confused at something you said.” Twilight frowned; she wasn’t exactly sure where the mare was going with this.

“In my book?” Twilight asked.

“Yes.” The pony pushed up her glasses. “You said, as I remember, that unicorns are powerful in mind and horn. Is that right?” She tilted her head a little to the side.

“Well, yes-” Twilight started, not sure of how to continue.

“So, are you suggesting,” the mare frowned, “that unicorns are, genetically, cleverer than earth ponies or pegasi? That they have a higher capacity of knowledge than other races?”

Twilight stared blankly into the assembly of ponies, biting her lip. “Yes?” she tried, not quite certain of her answer nor its ramifications.

The entire gathering entered a stern silence, as the realisation of what she had said flowed down from the stage. It took a few seconds for anypony to say something, then some murmurs broke out within the masses. Several ponies stayed speechless, trying to understand the meaning of the answer. Even the Princesses scuffled their royal hooves in discontent.

“Well…” Twilight bleated, her pulse quickening. “When I say… What I mean to say is…” In her loss for words, she turned to Rarity, who, standing, was slowly stepping away from the audience. Surely she would sympathise. This was all a misunderstanding. Twilight quickly turned back to the crowd.

“She’s a racist!” one pegasus mare shouted. “We should have seen this coming!”

“What has the Diarchy come to?” yelled a particularly brawny earth pony.

“I am not a racist!” Twilight aimlessly squeaked. “What I’m trying to say is…What I’m trying to say is…” But she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Tears were welling up in her eyes now, and her throat tightened around the syllable, yes?. She looked from Princess to Pony; it seemed all eyes were on her, and it was too much. “I’m not a racist,” she said again, before galloping off the stage and through the Canterlot streets.

The coloured shops and houses rushed by Twilight; she couldn’t stop for fear that anypony might try to question her again. She just needed to get home. Not her castle, of course, but her old home in Canterlot. Narrowly avoiding a group of schoolfoals, Twilight’s thoughts returned to her situation. They didn’t understand. It was common knowledge, surely, that Unicorns learned better than other races. It was- Well, it was fact.

“Agh!” she cried, her face in her hooves. However she said it, it didn’t sound right. Extending her wings, she took off and flew up to her balcony, placing each hoof on its stone surface. She sighed into a pillow, replaying the events in her mind.

It was so clear to her; she knew what she was trying to say, but struggled to manifest it. The words felt so near to her, but her hooves could never reach them. The now contention that fuelled her book was absent when not deceitful in explanation. No, she wasn’t racist. If the races of pony were identical, then what significance of categorisation did they have? She had never said that pegasi and earth ponies were stupid or anything. She was just- Oh, she didn’t know how to say it. When she had written the book, it had seemed natural to include that piece of information; she must have read it somewhere. A study maybe? If she could just show that it wasn’t her words, that the notion was commonplace, this would all blow over.

At once, she sat up. “It must be somewhere!” she concluded, wiping her eyes and starting towards the bookshelf. Yes, there just had to be a publishing on the different races somewhere in her library: if not entirely based on it, a study mentioning the attribute, perhaps. Book after book she pulled from the shelf, and, upon leaving their dusty homes, they majestically circled around her, giving the driven alicorn time to turn her head and look at each one. They spun about her as the thoughts that dizzied her brain. She was so absorbed in her search, that she hardly noticed the baby dragon enter the room behind her.

“Twilight!” Spike announced, deprived of breath.

“Spike!” All the books dropped at her exclamation. She promptly turned to look at the gasping reptile, getting up onto her hooves, and trotting towards him. “This is all one big understanding,” she said, putting a leg on his shoulder. “You know I don-”

“It’s okay, Twilight,” Spike assured, regaining his breath. “I know you’re not prejudiced.” Giving a weak smile, Twilight stilled and hugged the dragon. The tears returned in her eyelids. “You’re not prejudiced,” Spike repeated, “but you did mess up. As in, you’re gonna have to apologise.”

Twilight pulled away from the hug, and once again wiped her eyes.“But Spike, how can anyone say that it is wrong? It’s… Well, common knowledge that unicorns have a higher mental capacity.”

“Common knowledge?” Spike’s face grimaced. “Twilight… That’s not common knowledge.”

“It’s not?” Twilight’s gaze fell at that. She had wondered why her description had been questioned, but being told that her very instinct was invalid, that on what she had based her book had no basis, was nothing but disconcerting. “B- but. Ponies say it all the time.”

“As insults, yes.” Spike said with a sympathetic but cautious smile. “But- But that’s called racism.”

Twilight shook her head over and over again. “No,” she said, quietly. “No,” she repeated, louder this time. “It is common knowledge. I’m not exactly the first person to write a book like- like this one.” Brushing Spike off, she stood up and walked back towards the shelf. The books once again lifted of the ground, returning to their places in the wooden shelf. “A book for foals, yes. Come on, Spike.” Twilight levitated her saddle bags onto her, her voice still quivering. “We’ll go to the Library. The proper one.”

“Twilight…” Spike started, but the mare already had her head out of the door, peering each way. When she was sure that there was nopony there, she trotted outside and down the stairs, leaving the door open behind her.

The sun lowered in the sky, Twilight observed, alive with the passion that chalked it along its perpetual path. Perhaps, she thought, the passion ascertained was a extension of Celestia’s own. It wasn’t as if the Princess had tried to defend her; she had instead just stood by and watched the crowd descend. In fact, the Princess probably hated her. The one pony she had looked up to all her life supposed her a mere racist. That view was far from the truth, despite what most ponies probably thought of her.

Trotting intently down each step, Twilight heard the door close behind her, as Spike hurried behind to catch up. Racist, he had said. She repeated the word in her head. She wasn’t racist. The assumption was commonplace; she had to hold onto that thought. Was it racist, Twilight considered, to say that an earth pony was strong? Was it racist to comment on a pegasus’ agility? A rational description suddenly becomes a hate crime once past physical, but why? Her meandering thoughts returned to academia: had studies avoided this topic? She had been so sure that one comparing mental ability amongst the races had existed, but the search in her own library had been fruitless. There had to be an explanation for the larger proportion of unicorns that entered higher education, other than a difference in interest.

Racist. They painted her villainous. What were they supposing? That she hated pegasi and earth ponies? The very suggestion smelled foul to Twilight: her best friends were pegasi and earth ponies, and they were anything but short of knowledge. What she had suggested was merely that unicorns had a head start. Yes, put like that, it made much more sense.

The library lay opposite Twilight’s tower, and, reaching the bottom of the stairs, the alicorn crossed over to the entrance, Spike mutely trailing behind. With an extended hoof, the still gloomy mare pushed open the large wooden doors. The chasm of book-brimmed shelves that was the library grew before the pair, as the parting slabs of forest revealed its interior. Twilight, used to it as a surrounding, continued her pace through the shelves and along the glazed floor. The echoing trots filled the thoughts of the working librarian, who looked up at Twilight and Spike, just as they veered off towards the foal’s section.

“Listen, Twilight,” Spike urged, speaking up. “Even if you do think that what you said wasn’t racist, you’ll still have to apologise. Others won't think so.”

The mare crouched down at a shelf, and several books flew out in a lavender aurora. “I told you Spike. If I could just show that this wasn’t my suggestion, that all books render this thought, it would be nonsensical to call me either prejudiced or a supplier of misinformation. Though…” she added, staring into nowhere, “It would compromise the originality of my work.”

“What are you on about?” Spike stood, dumbfounded, and Twilight reversed to look at him. “You don’t think everypony’s already read those books?” He felt a mazed breath leave his mouth. “You said yourself; they’re everywhere. It didn’t stop the way the crowd reacted, Twilight. Come on, listen to yourself.”

Twilight matched Spike’s expression, looking, for once, up at her loyal assistant from her hunkered place by the shelf. Her mouth parted, she gently rose, causing the dragon to first look upward and then rotate his head, so that he was now the one gazing up. She swallowed and softened her eyes, with all the innocence she had. She was about to talk down her poor assistant. Her… friend. What was she on about? She was aimlessly trying to defend herself, but snubbing everything in front of her. This was not her. Or, then again, was it? Yes, they had called her racist, and, perhaps… Perhaps it was deserved. This idea she had assumed, that one syllable, yes?. What was it? How were unicorns different, really? All ponies have the same brain. Magic wasn’t synonymous with intelligence.

Though, Twilight thought, possibly it was… It was the intelligence of a unicorn’s mind. An intelligence shared by earth ponies in physical prowess and by pegasi too, in agility. The mind of a pony is only as much their abilities. And all ponies have ability. The ability to cast spells may yet have indicate knowledge, just as the ability to farm and the ability to control the weather did also. And so all ponies have mental capacity, and so mind is constitutive above race. It hit Twilight’s mind, at this moment, as it should have years beforehand, that knowledge was ubiquitous. Unicorns had no more than any other. And, for the first time truly, she felt learned. This was more than information, this was understanding.

“What about the crowd?” she murmured. “They accepted my book before that mare spoke up.”

“Half of the crowd didn’t know what you said in that speech. The other- Well, gee Twilight, most of that book is a metaphor anyway. I guess, just you telling them what it meant was enough to make them react.” As Spike spoke, twilight’s gaze lowered, until she was staring at her own hooves.

“But…” she faltered, “I can’t be just making it up. I can’t. I only- I only-” Along with her words, Twilight’s legs gave way, lowering the mare to the dusty library floor. She was nothing more than racist. “I’m- I’m sorry Spike. I’m so, so sorry.” she let out, “I don’t know what I claim to be any more.” The scientific method? She had disgraced it. Not only that, but she had let her friends down. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Tartarus, she’d even let Rarity, her unicorn illustrator, down. And she had pulled her into this, too. What would they think of her? The fashionista’s future ended by her block-headed ignorance.

Oh, what a princess she was, indeed, her image this. Forever, she’d stay the mare on the floor, the racist princess, the alicorn of fiend-ship.

A foreleg curled around her.

It was not a small leg: it was one filled with care and hope and all the sympathy Twilight could imagine. Its motherly care and welcoming warmth spread across Twilight’s back like ink on leaf. The limb’s ownership was incontestable; Twilight was joined by Princess Celestia.

“I don’t want to be prejudiced,” Twilight sobbed, and the Princess put a second hoof under her neck.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia looked into her former student’s dewy eyes with sympathy. “You are not a prejudiced pony.” Twilight only looked down slightly with those words. “You made a mistake. We all make mistakes. Even I. Part of being a princess is dealing with mistakes, and learning from them. Part of being anypony, to be truthful.” Princess Celestia embraced the mare. “No, you are not prejudiced, Twilight Sparkle,” she repeated, “and you are certainly not racist.”

But, no matter with what the princess consoled her, Twilight remained racist to herself. Celestia’s words comforted her, yes, but they were no more than maternal tendency. Anypony could tell her that she had messed-up, encourage her to brush it off and move on, but regardless of how she acted thenceforth, her actions would remain patent: she would have still replied with that notion; she would have still written with that notion; she would have still thought with that notion. Until a few minutes beforehand, she had seen it as reality, and its imprint would mark her mind forever more; she was inescapably bias-branded.

“Don’t leave, Princess,” Twilight said into larger Alicorn.

And she didn’t leave.

The two stayed held in each other, huddled on the base of that library. The books towered above them, the weight upon Twilight’s mind. Just short of structure, packed, winding. Up and growing, they looked down on her from within, and saw ache. Seeped through lids, pored through fur, her shame was instrument. Plagued, she lay. She’d get up, yes, but she’d remain on that floor. Ponies would play and work and live and love and die, while she stayed on that floor. Many of them pegasi. Many of the earth ponies. And that trait of unicorns? Oh, what of it? It was fictional, fake, formulated; an arbitrary talent she’d constructed of pride. So it blighted her as she lay. And the sun would rise, and day would break; armies would rise and fall, ancient monuments collapse, trees blow over and oceans dry up. And all this time, she would remain on that floor.

There had never been a misunderstanding. If there had, it lied with her, a facsimile of the opinion itself. She had never dismissed it, yet stayed by it, assumed the blame was with others, and kept it moored in mind. And it was there that she was flawed. So that what had occurred was bound to the mare. Bound, as long as she had held that infernal thought. Years and years, she brewed it, perfecting it, until it was unavoidable by her own nature. And then, she had nopony to blame but herself. She had chosen that mare in the crowd; she had written that book. The accusative hoof was on her, and it would stay on her, the hug of a princess, nothing to stop it. For now, however, she could only cry, puddling misconception colonising the floor beneath her.

Though her sentiment would turn sediment, the evidence stayed evident. A reasonable questioning to her questionable reasoning.

Author's Note

"Why don't you just sit up here for a while and think things over?"
- Kate McCallister - Home Alone 2: Lost in New York

So... This is my first mlp fanfic, well, first serious one, so go easy on me!
Came up with the idea while walking in the park. Didn't execute it quite as well as I thought I could, but I gave it a try, and that's what counts, I guess.
I'm going to write some more stories about moral dilemmas, so stick around if you liked this one. And some other types stories too, regardless.

Thanks for reading. Unless you didn't. But then why did you go down to the bottom just to read this?