Princess Twilight Sparkle and the Sorcerous Symbiosis

Chapters

Spike gets it all on film
Rainbow Dash sucks in Twilight Sparkle with a plaid finisher
In which Twilight Sparkle receives a shocking revelation
The Sunburst also rises
Don't let the Sun come down on me

Spike gets it all on film

“Spike,” Twilight began with a nod towards her most faithful assistant, “take a letter.”

“Sure thing, Twilight!” Spike, grinning, eager, snatched up a quill, a sheet of parchment, and his ear frills quivered with affectionate attention.

Leaning back in her chair, Twilight took a moment to reflect on what she wanted to say and she relaxed a little, allowing her muscles to unkink. “Dear Princess Celestia…” Spike’s quill began scratching, distracting her, and her eyes went half-closed whilst she recovered her stream of consciousness. “Sumac is now eight years and thirty-three days old, and it has been thirty-two days since the last ‘snatch-a-sorcerer’ incident. Thank you again, for your timely arrival to put an end to their trouble, and I’m sorry that I complained about you being a day late to celebrate Sumac’s birthday. You showed up just in the nick of time…”

Across the table, Spike began giggling while he wrote, and Twilight smiled.

“Right after I sent the letter to complain, the trouble started.” Twilight brought her front hooves together and began to clonk them against one another in a slow, methodical, absent-minded, lackadaisical manner. Each hoof aligned with one another, with no visible overlap. Tap—tap—tap. “I worry, dear teacher, just how many ponies became involved this time to protect Sumac. No one was killed, but there were injuries. I am both proud of my fellow ponies and terrified of the eventual outcome of this growing boldness. Also, I am saddened that one of my students took a life. Olive is troubled by what she’s done now, but showed no sign of hesitation when she acted. I worry, Celestia, I really do. She’s a bit like me in that she’s overly aggressive, and, I must confess, it concerns me a great deal. Her aggression needs to be channeled somehow, funneled into some form of greatness. Maybe I worry too much.”

No longer could laughter be heard from Spike.

“It seems that nothing is certain anymore.” Twilight closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to flow with the hopes that she could better express the feelings she held within her heart. “The ponies of Ponyville have changed. Everything that has happened, the invasions, the attacks, the snatch-a-sorcerer incidents, I find myself considering an organised regiment of guards, but then I think about what has become of Canterlot… and I convince myself that the Sparkle Spartans are enough. I don’t want Ponyville becoming militarised, but at the same time, I have an obligation to keep everypony safe. I find myself in a tough spot, and I think I need to speak to you, in pony if possible. I’ve reached a point where I am starting to doubt myself and I need help, because a princess who doubts herself does a poor job as a princess. Please, get in touch with me at your earliest convenience. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”

With her eyes closed, Twilight listened as parchment crinkled, she heard an inhale, and the crackle of flames made her ears prick. Spike had sent the letter before she could have second thoughts about it, before she could make edits, before she could clean it up a bit to hide her tell-tale signs of weakness. Spike was a good dragon—but right now she was mildly annoyed with him for being so prompt with delivery.

She yawned, an impressive sight that also caused Spike to yawn, and stretched, her body going rigid until she felt lightheaded. Only then did she ease up, relax, and open her eyes, revealing stars in her vision. Spike was scratching the side of his face with his claws and he looked as sleepy as she felt.

“When there is no trouble in Ponyville,” Spike said while his claws squealed against his hard, metallic scales, “it gets really, really boring.”

“Hush, Spike. Boring is good for Ponyville. We need a respite from trouble. No monster invasions, no attacking armies, no—”

Twilight was interrupted by the wall exploding and an immense burst of pressure slamming into her. Starlight Glimmer had smashed through the wall, protected by a shield bubble, while riding upon the crest of what appeared to be quite an explosion. With perfect calm, Twilight raised her own shield even as her table was lifted from the floor, papers took flight, and her chair was blown back. She pulled Spike in and with a flick of her thoughts, vacated the area just as the fiery detonation incinerated the table and blew her chair into splinters.

It was a spectacular way to end the boredom.

The failsafes had not held, because the failsafes had been overloaded. Standing amidst the wreckage of the magical laboratory, Twilight began to reassemble everything that was broken, though everything incinerated would need to be replaced. Smouldering, his pelt blackened in a number of places, Sumac looked none-the-worse for wear and she had already repaired the cracked lenses in his eyeglasses.

Starlight was sitting on the floor and rubbing her head while her apprentice, Olive stood behind her and rubbed her back with both front hooves. Moondancer’s eyebrow had gone missing in action and one ear was missing most of its fuzz. Sunburst was yawning while rubbing his ears, no doubt trying to get them to pop. Twilight wanted answers, but she also wanted everypony to recover first. Even Pebble, unflappable, unshakable Pebble, appeared to be somewhat stunned, but was busy trying to pat out the smouldering places on Sumac’s hide.

Most of the wall was reassembled and the pieces that were missing would be fixed in time, when the castle healed itself. Even now, the spiderweb of cracks had a fantastical glow to them as the wall slowly began to knit itself back together. Sumac coughed out a cloud of smoke and dust while Pebble pounded him on his back. Twilight, satisfied that the wall would hold, wanted answers.

“What happened here?” Twilight asked in her no-nonsense-I-mean-business sort of way.

“Moondancer exploded.” Sunburst coughed out the words along with a sizable cloud of glittery dust.

“I sure did!” Moondancer lifted her head, wobbled, and lowered her head again. “My forehead feels cold.”

“Moondancer just doesn’t explode,” Twilight said, refuting this claim while growing annoyed. She wanted answers… and Moondancer was whole of body.

“Wanna bet?” Olive smacked Starlight on the spine to work lose a cough and the mare sputtered while spitting out gritty bits. “We could make Moonie explode again—”

“NO!” Moondancer cried while holding up a hoof in the air and waving it around. “I don’t wanna explode!” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Am I missing my eyebrow?”

“I just want to know why my castle keeps exploding!” Twilight stomped her hoof and glanced at the ponies still recovering from whatever it was that had happened. “Every time it explodes, I see the same faces… if this keeps up, I’m putting all of you on a list—”

“NO!” Sunburst held out his hoof and turned a pleading stare magnified owlishly by his crooked spectacles upon Twilight. “I don’t want to be listed as a disturber of the peace. I’m a respectable pony with a good reputation! Don’t take that from me!”

“Then spill the beans!” Twilight stomped again and bared her teeth. “Out with it, or on the list you’ll go!”

Pebble, the calmest pony in the room, began in perfect deadpan: “Moondancer exploded, that much is true. We were testing Sumac’s new magic. Sunburst calls it Sorcerous Symbiosis and Sumac and I, we discovered it by accident when we were playing. We were experimenting with different symbiotic combinations and discovered, quite by accident mind you, that Moondancer causes explosions. The big dramatic whooshy kind. Starlight is to blame because she wanted to see what would happen with a credible application of force. We found out what happened… kaboom.”

“I can’t feel my eyebrow…”

Intrigued, Twilight wanted to know more. “Pebble, what did you discover?”

A pleased gleam appeared in Pebble’s eye and the corners of her mouth tugged upwards in the faintest hint of smugness. “Sumac still had a hint of zap apple tincture in him after his lessons with Vinyl. We were playing King of the Hill and Sumac raised a shield around himself and I. Right away, he and I noticed that something was off, something was different, because he floated in the middle of his shield and I was left standing on the ground. It was like a hamsterball.”

“Do go on,” Twilight commanded.

Still smug, still pleased, Pebble continued, “We noticed that the shield had almost zero friction moving over the ground, and I was able to travel at great speeds. We smacked into my sister Megara, and bowled her over. She went flying over the garden wall from the impact. Running was effortless for me and the shield carried a great deal of kinetic momentum. Smashing into things at speed was satisfying beyond belief.”

Twilight had trouble believing what she was hearing, and she wanted to see it for herself. She needed visual confirmation—yet, the laboratory had exploded and her most trusted assistants were already studying the phenomenon. Scowling, Twilight realised that she had been left out of a major discovery, and this left her rather peevish.

“We need to begin advanced testing right away.” Twilight, perhaps sensing a way to end the boredom, swept away her mental schedule and cast everything else aside. “We need to find out what this does, but we need to do it outside, with my supervision. By the end of the day, I want to know how this works—”

“And how it can be exploited?”

“Yes, Pebble, and how it can be exploited.” Twilight was not aware of how terrible her grin was, how manic she appeared, or of the wicked gleam in her eye.

But her companions saw it, and each were terrified in their own special way.

It was a sunny, glorious spring day in Ponyville, and Twilight searched the skies for her first test-subject, hoping to spot a rainbow-maned pony. The skies were supposed to be clear today, according to the schedule, but there were far too many clouds. Little puffy clouds, perfect for napping. On a day like this, the odds of Rainbow Dash napping were high, because the lithe blue pegasus hibernated through seasons of boredom.

Nearby, Pebble sat in the grass beneath the shade of a lacy parasol and Sumac was with her, sipping from a bottle of Celestia~Cola. Sunburst and Starlight stood side by side, discussing something amongst themselves, while Olive remained close to Moondancer. Spike was off by himself, setting up a motion picture camera at what Twilight had judged was a safe distance away.

“Why a pegasus?” Moondancer asked, and then she clarified, “Why Rainbow Dash?”

“Because,” Twilight replied in a somewhat absent-minded manner, “an earth pony and a unicorn have already been tested, and I want to see what happens when you amplify Awesome. Pegasus ponies have magic too, Moonie, and I’m itching to know what Rainbow’s magic does with Sumac’s symbiotic shield.”

Adjusting her chunky glasses, Moondancer nodded. “I can see the logic in that. Now I am curious too. Twilight…”

“Yes, Moonie?”

“I still can’t believe that you got the Royal Academy of Science to recognise Awesome as an actual field of magic.”

Eyes skyward, Twilight nodded, and thought back to the duels battled, proving that she was right the only way it mattered: brute force. Rainbow Dash had a peculiar, unique magic that seemed all her own, and Twilight had dubbed it ‘Awesome.’ The Royal Academy of Science was a dangerous, dreadful place, but in the end, they had recognised Rainbow Dash’s Awesomeness.

No was never an acceptable option.

Reaching out through the aether, Twilight Sparkle prepared her special conjure pony spell…

“You want me to do what, eggs-zactly?” Rainbow’s voice was a little sleepy and a little raspy. “Twilight, I was napping and having that great dream about being a centerfold model—”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight’s wings sprang from her sides and she waved them around. “Foals present!”

“I’ve seen that issue,” Sumac said behind her, and Twilight felt her ears turn too warm for comfort.

“You have a copy of Terrific Teats?” Rainbow asked while she pushed her way past Twilight. “The special holiday edition?” Her voice was almost an over-excited squeal that grew in volume with each word. “Why you sly little colt! The cold really magnified my assets!”

“It sure did, while making other things nice and tight!” Sumac cried in return, and then Twilight heard a pained grunt from behind her. She could only assume that Pebble must have slugged him. Later, Twilight would buy Pebble ice cream, just because. Turning about, she saw Sumac rubbing his shoulder and scowling at Pebble.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight knew her words fell on deaf ears, because Rainbow just looked far-too-pleased with herself. Her own ears were now baking in the spring sun.

Moondancer made a husky confession in a low voice. “I have that same issue. It makes my eyebrow sweaty. I bet you could cut glass with those—”

“Moondancer!” This was unexpected and Twilight bristled at the very idea of her nerdy friend looking at glossy, full-colour pornographic magazines. Now, her cheeks were starting to get too warm, and her ears were practically on fire.

“Sunburst and I had a lot of fun looking through that issue together—”

“Starlight Glimmer!” Recoiling, poor Twilight Sparkle now possessed a dreadful fear that she was surrounded by perverts and that everything from the neck up might spontaneously combust at any second.

“What? Rainbow Dash made for a magnificent spread—”

“Starlight, was that a pun?” Twilight demanded while boiling blood coursed through her cheeks.

“Uh…” Starlight shuffled on her hooves, kicked the grass a bit, and shrugged. “Um, maybe? Rainbow Dash did have her hind hooves touching behind her neck and it was pretty hot—”

Intriguing mental images crept into Twilight’s brain and she did her best to banish them before the unwanted heat spread to other places. “STARLIGHT!”

“Well, it was!” Now on the defensive, Starlight stood her ground. “I’m too fat to get my hind hooves behind my neck like that and I don’t mind living vicariously. Being friends with Pinkie Pie and Pebble is ruining my figure, Twilight!”

“Great,” Pebble deadpanned, “now I am ruining the sex-lives of others and not just my parents. I feel accomplished.”

“Well, I eat too much fudge and then my legs won’t budge no matter how hard Sunburst pounds my pudge—”

“STARLIGHT GLIMMER!” Twilight’s voice echoed through the distant trees and birds took flight, disturbed by the explosive outburst. Red-faced, flustered, and too-curious for her own good, Twilight barked like a schoolmarm, “WE HAVE SCIENCE TO DO! LET’S GET BUSY, PONIES!”

Author's Note

This will be super short.

Rainbow Dash sucks in Twilight Sparkle with a plaid finisher

Twilight needed a longer microphone cable and it was upon this that she gave a gentle tug, trying to extend her leash a little longer. She eyeballed her subjects and pondered the pun, because they were her subjects, as in residents of her demesne, and they were her subjects, potential sacrifices made in the name of science. Watching them play together, Twilight was confident that whatever happened today would yield results. So little was known about pegasus pony magic; it was a source of near-constant frustration for her. Today’s results would be explosive and amplified by the power of sorcery, but that was fine, that was good, Twilight considered that to be like using a microscope to get a better view of things. Today would reveal pegasus potential and whatever she discovered might be able to be isolated and studied later in greater detail.

Rainbow Dash and Sumac were sitting in the grass, on their haunches, facing one another, and playing a clip-clop game. There was a complex rhythm formed by banging their front hooves together and of course, Rainbow Dash pushed faster and harder. Sumac was keeping up though, and Twilight marvelled at how the foalish playtime game taught better eye-and-hoof coordination. It was such a simple thing at first observation, so easily dismissible as frivolous fun, but now she required this as part of her curriculum. It taught trust, built friendship, and accomplished so much while allowing a stressed-out student to blow off a little steam.

The Royal Academy of Science poo-pooed her ideas that earth ponies and pegasus ponies held complex, nuanced magic of their own—with said rejection coming from earth pony and pegasus pony scientists. Twilight resented them for their own short-sightedness and longed to prove them wrong. Yes, one day, she would be victorious and she would dance in triumph, the ancient and meaningful dance of, In Your Face! It was easy to observe active unicorn magic in action and results were easy to achieve. Observing a zooming pegasus had only become possible when Twilight had sprouted permanent wings.

As for earth ponies, Applejack didn’t like it, and claimed it felt like she was being watched while she pooped. The very idea that earth pony magic and the earth pony way shouldn’t be observed was downright poop-posterous. Observing Pinkie Pie had its own unique hazards, but Twilight would do another thorough examination—someday. She could still feel a few aches and pains from the last time there had been credible observation of the pink test subject.

Of course, as with any quantum entity, observation altered the outcome, and sometimes the observer.

“Subject is the peak of pegasus perfection,” Twilight began, speaking into the microphone in her best documentarian voice. “Rainbow Dash has been to the Grove and she has underwent significant alteration. What this means is as of yet unknown as the subject is hesitant to say anything about what took place in the Grove during said transformation. Subject is a recognised Super under the terms laid in place by the I.E.A, or the Individuals of Exceptional Ability. The full potential of subject? Unknown. Top speed? Unknown. Physical strength while under the affects of Awesome? Unknown. Subject has super-equine endurance and since her transformation also displayed enhanced damage resistance, countering her previous documented frailty.”

Rainbow’s moving hooves caught Twilight’s attention and the microphone was pulled away from her mouth. She blinked, having trouble with what she was seeing, more so because of Sumac’s involvement as well. The pair of them, their hooves were moving so fast that they appeared to be in multiple places at once, leaving behind phantom images as they continued to move at supernatural speed. For Rainbow, this was normal behaviour, but for Sumac, Twilight allowed herself to assume that his sorcerous abilities were enhancing him somehow. Perhaps he was getting some manner of a passive boost from Rainbow Dash… but how?

Was this evidence of Awesome?

Rainbow Dash had ways and means of bringing out the best in others. It was what she did as a Wonderbolt. Scootaloo was a success by any yardstick of measurement. Every foal that Rainbow mentored or put her wing over had a certain displayable sense of Awesomeness about them—and Sumac was no different. Casting a sidelong glance at Spike, she was pleased to see that he was filming this.

Better cameras were needed and Twilight had plans to dump resources into the research of new technology.

“Are we ready to begin?” Twilight asked and the clip-clop game ceased due to her interruption. She was sad to watch it end, but ecstatic to move on to bigger and better things. “Sumac, need another lozenge?”

“Naw, I think I’m good,” he replied, and Twilight nodded to acknowledge him.

“Rainbow, are you ready?”

“You know it, Twi.”

“Let us begin…”

Sumac’s shield bubble now radiated a strange magic that Twilight had trouble discerning. She knew that Sunburst was hard at work trying to get a read on the magics, and she would have to collect his notes later. As Pebble had stated, Sumac was suspended, apparently weightless within his own bubble, and Rainbow Dash stood inside with him, looking like a giant hamster with curious body deformities. Of course, it didn’t help that Rainbow was holding her breath and allowing her cheeks to bulge out, so she could make funny faces for the camera.

A crackling tether of magic connected Sumac to his shield bubble and Twilight could not help but feel that there was something almost umbilical about it. This was different, her own shield bubbles and her brother’s shield bubbles lacked a tether, and Sumac’s tether only appeared when another pony shared his bubble with him. She was certain that the observation was significant, a mystery waiting to be explored.

“Twilight, I feel weird!” Rainbow cried, her cheeks deflating.

Scowling, Twilight made a note that Rainbow felt ‘weird’ and was somewhat peeved with her friend because the silly pegasus pony could never quite define what ‘weird’ was. Rainbow Dash had once been in a bipedal beyond-the-mirror body, with her mammaries relocated to the most peculiar location, and that had felt ‘weird’ as well. It was mighty embarrassing too, because Rainbow hadn’t been able to stop fondling her own pillowy enhancements, saying they felt like wet, squishy, soggy storm clouds trapped inside of meat-balloons. Rainbow Dash could elucidate upon the state of her curious mammaries, but could not elaborate on ‘weird.’

“I feel weightless, Twilight!”

Well, at least that was helpful and Twilight added it to her notes.

Sumac’s shield had the most curious rainbow shimmer to it, like an oily soap bubble. Motes of raw aether crackled along the surface and Twilight’s alicorn senses showed her how she could make modifications to her own shield matrices based on what she was observing—but what those changes might do remained to be seen.

Perhaps nervous, Rainbow spread her wings and the bubble rose from the ground, weightless. Twilight watched, fascinated, and of course Rainbow Dash figured this out fast. Raising her wings above her spine caused the bubble to rise, lowering her wings caused the bubble to settle, while holding them straight out and level caused the bubble to hover in mid-air. Spreading her wings, Twilight rose with the ascending bubble, squinting at it, marvelling at the effortless movement. This was total gravity cancellation, by the look and feel of it.

“Twilight, it feels weird to be flying while standing on something and not flapping my wings… this ain’t natural!”

“Be brave, Rainbow Dash!” Twilight called out to her friend.

Within the bubble, Rainbow angled her wings forwards a bit, just a tiny careful action, and now, the bubble began to drift westward, moving at a sedate-yet-terrifying speed that Twilight would not have believed without witnessing. It seemed to slice through the air without resistance, but how? Twilight had to teleport to keep up and when she arrived, Rainbow had brought the bubble to a halt.

“Twilight…”—Rainbow’s voice trembled like a scared filly—“I’m gonna go fast, Twilight.”

“Rainbow?” Twilight hadn’t heard fear in Rainbow’s voice in quite some time. Her friend was quivering like the last leaf on a tree, determined to see the snows of winter.

“Sumac… when this is over… you and I might just be the fastest creatures that have ever existed…”

The colt seemed to be considering this for a moment and then, in a cracked voice he replied, “Neat.”

“Twilight, my vision is all weird, but I know what I’m seeing somehow. I’m seeing things that don’t exist yet, Twilight, but they are things that will be. Don’t ask me how I know. I can see birds in my future flight path, and bugs, and things that might pose a danger.”

“Rainbow Dash! I need more data!”

“Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle… just in case we don’t meet again on this plane of existence. I can’t see how this ends.” Rainbow’s voice—though afflicted with a tremulation of terror—had an eerie calm to it that unsettled Twilight.

“Rainbow! Sumac’s mothers will end you!” Twilight reached out for the bubble with her hoof, but too late, she could see the twitches in her friend’s wings. Arcing rainbowfied electricity lept from feather to feather and danced along Rainbow’s primaries.

“It’s weird, Twilight, I can see the futures as they happen. I can see all possible outcomes. Twilight… Twilight… I wish you could see what I’m seeing, I think it would blow your mind. No matter what happens next, you always have been, and will always be my friend. I can’t see that changing.”

“Rainbow Dash?” Twilight, flapping her wings, made a desperate attempt to understand what was going on.

With a terrific stillness-shattering explosion, Rainbow Dash was gone. Twilight found it impossible to breathe, and she tumbled through the air, sucked into Rainbow’s wake, and she knew that she had to have moved for at least hundred miles or more in the span of an eyeblink. Every bone in her body threatened to liquify and her eyeballs struggled to stay inside of her skull, the place where eyeballs belonged, at least according to Twilight’s extensive and ever-so-comprehensive notes. Somehow, she managed to raise a shield as the sky began to collapse around her, and the atmosphere ignited as the implosion came crashing in.

Gritting her teeth, Twilight screamed; it took every last bit of her magic to keep her constituent atoms from going on strike and quitting their beneficial, existence-allowing union. Light warped, distorted, and seemed to be sucked into the all-consuming void that Twilight found herself in. For a second, she saw plaid, reality bled plaid, and just when she wasn’t sure if she would continue to exist in her currently issued matter, the most peculiar thing happened.

Something grabbed her: magic at first, followed by an unfamiliar fuzzy body wrapping around her as the plaidification of everything intensified and time dragged on like molasses poured over a windigo’s back. Nothing made sense and reality was slow-motion fury that smelled—and sounded—of plaid. Then, somehow, above the chaos, she heard not one, but two voices, one of which was curiously like her own.

“Stupid Rainbow Dash! Ripping open a causality disruption vortex like that! Stupid, stupid me for allowing it to happen! Ugh, how could I be so dumb? How did I survive this stage of my life! I was an idiot!”

Strange manic laughter filled Twilight’s ears, it was familiar and unsettling, and then she heard the second voice say, “You might’ve become like me at this moment. Would that be so bad?”

“Yes!” the other voice snapped in supreme irritation.

Twilight struggled to hear what was being said, but liquid plaid ran down her ears, poured into her eyes, flooded her nose and mouth, and she began to drown upon the unpleasant fluid of reality. She wanted air, but wasn’t sure if she needed it. Whatever was holding her was gentle, affectionate even, and she felt a kind pat upon her neck as her mind reached the point where it could no longer function.

Blinking, Twilight stood in the grass and tried to make sense of her surroundings. She remembered being in the sky and Rainbow Dash taking off. And that was all that she could recall. Glancing around, Twilight felt alarmed, but couldn’t say why. Six minutes had passed. How did she know this? How peculiar… she had no idea. Still blinking, she checked herself, snorted while feeling like a silly filly, all while wondering if her senses had betrayed her.

Then, she stopped blinking, because the insides of her eyelids were plaid. Eyes closed, Twilight turned her head in the direction of the sun and sure enough, she could see plaid of all things. How weird. She had no means to expand upon her description and felt disappointed with herself. Why were the inside of her eyelids plaid? Where was Rainbow Dash?

Rainbow Dash had taken off… and exploded?

Yes, something had happened, but what?

Overhead, there was a pop, almost like a soap bubble, and when Twilight opened up her eyes, she saw a familiar looking shield sphere filled with two excited ponies that were very special to her. The bottom of the bubble was flooded and Rainbow Dash was standing in some unknown, chunky liquid. Sumac was vibrating in a way that foals should never vibrate, just like the time that Rainbow Dash had strapped him into the dizzitron and turned it on at the highest possible setting.

Lemon Hearts was still miffed about the incident.

An ominous crackle filled the air as the bubble zoomed away, moving only for a few yards, and then it halted. The shield vanished, Rainbow landed on the ground with a squishy splat, and then the sour stink of vomit hit Twilight like a slap in the face. Rainbow was drenched because Sumac had been suspended directly above her. A second later, Sumac landed on Rainbow’s back, looking both thrilled and nauseous.

“I stopped when I reached the ocean,” Rainbow Dash said in the most cavalier way she could manage while dripping with puke.

“But… but… that’s thousands of miles away!”

“I know,” Rainbow replied while using her wings to hold Sumac up. “Uh, Twilight, can I have a shower before we continue?”

“Yeah.” Nose crinkling in disgust, Twilight retreated from the plucky, proud puke-plastered pegasus pony. “Sumac, you okay, little guy?”

“I feel great!” Though he said he felt great, the colt didn’t look well at all, and his face had the most unpleasant greenish tinge. “I went fast! So fast! I—BLARGH—ARGH—GLARGH!”

If Rainbow Dash was bothered by Sumac barfing all over the back of her neck, she showed no sign of it. Twilight was grudgingly impressed. Rainbow had a way with foals, perhaps because she was a big foal herself. Again, Sumac retched and Rainbow’s smile never faltered.

“Rainbow… hit the shower… and take Sumac with you. See if you can’t get him cleaned up. And whatever you do—”

“Yeah, Twilight I know, okay?”

“—don’t let his mothers see him like this!”

Author's Note

Next: more cautious discovery. And Rainbow gives Twilight a shocker.

In which Twilight Sparkle receives a shocking revelation

Sumac appeared to be none the worse for wear, and Twilight was thankful that Rainbow had sorted him out. No doubt, a number of clouds had been wrangled, and then either tickled or squeezed until they let go of their water. It was never a good thing for Twilight to think about how a cloud could be tickled and made to rain; nor was it good think about pegasus ponies having feathers, nature’s perfect ticklers. Something about all of this just seemed… off. Perverse, somehow.

Something still felt wrong about everything that had happened, but Twilight couldn’t quite put her hoof upon what it was. At some point, when this was over, she would have to get the film developed so that she could check and see what the camera saw, not that the camera had probably seen much of anything. According to everypony else, there was a flash of light followed by Rainbow and Twilight vanishing.

Sitting in the grass, Sumac was eating Father Goose’s Crispy Waffle Snacks, a treat that wasn’t quite a waffle, though it was shaped like one, and wasn’t quite a cookie, though it was rather crispy and chewy like one. The bright yellow rubber duck on the cheerful blue cardboard canister was instantly recognisable and there was a promise that all profits generated went to charity. Pebble was pestering him for a crispy waffle, but he kept squirming away, no doubt because he was hungry, but so was Pebble, and she was persistent.

“Go ‘way, Pebble! These are sweet chili and ginger! My favourites!”

“Sumac, friends share.” Pebble resorted to batting her eyelashes while looking as sad and dejected as possible.

Turning away from the two foals, Twilight waved a wing at Sunburst, trying to get his attention. He and Starlight were talking, and Twilight was almost certain it wasn’t about what they had observed. Clearing her throat, she allowed them a moment to finish their conversation before she spoke to them.

“Sunburst, did your magic sense tell you anything? You never told me, or if you did, I can’t remember.”

One of Sunburst’s ears rose while the other sagged, almost as if that ear wished to be closer to Starlight Glimmer. The one that stood up quivered, pivoted about, and sunlight glinted off of Sunburst’s glasses while he scratched at his goateed chin with his hoof. For the briefest moment, Twilight thought she saw what her student Starlight had to see in Sunburst; he was so studious, so solemn, so thoughtful, patient, and careful before committing to any answer.

Starlight was wise to take a purely cerebral approach in finding a special somepony.

“Now that you mention it, there was a huge burst of chaos magic, both when all of you vanished and then again quite some distance away. I barely felt that one. It’s like hearing a bottle rocket go off a long ways away… you just kind of know it’s there even though it exists on the edges of your perception.”

That didn’t seem out of place to Twilight, and she frowned, thoughtful. Sumac’s sorcery was chaos. He defied harmonic order by amplifying magic around him. Discord had been surprisingly helpful in explaining the finer mechanics of how Sumac’s sorcery functioned. Rubbing her ear with her wing, Twilight brought her head back around to look at Sumac once more, and saw him fending off Pebble’s aggressive efforts to steal his crispy waffles.

Rainbow Dash, it seemed, had ripped reality a new one with the aid of Sumac’s sorcery. Not only was Rainbow benefiting from the sorcerous effect that Sumac projected all around him, but the symbiotic shield took on aspects of her powers—thinking about this, Twilight had a better understanding of why wars broke out and nations had burned in the past, all for the sake of having a sorcerer, a living amplifier of magic. With Sumac, Rainbow Dash had transformed into something… that defied categorisation or explanation.

“Moonie, are you doing okay?”

In a nasal whine, there came a reply, “I’m missing my eyebrow—”

“Oh, good, you’re fine,” Twilight said before her friend could get worked up about her loss. “Okay, everypony, are we ready to continue? Rainbow Dash, ready to find out what other great mysteries exist?”

Before anypony could protest, Twilight moved to begin.

A zap apple lozenge powered up Sumac and now he floated inside of his bubble once more, about a foot or so above Rainbow’s back. The rainbow-crested pegasus kept her wings tight against her sides and stood unmoving, except for the fact that she made awful gookie faces. But that was what a Rainbow Dash do—as Sumac Apple might say it—make gookie faces to hide the fact that she had nothing intelligent to say.

Standing close to the shield, Twilight could feel the static coursing through her mane, her hide, and her tail. A curious rainbow shimmer intrigued her, as she had never quite seen rainbow-hued electricity before. Angling her head off to one side, she got a good look at Sumac’s cutie mark, searching for inspiration. It held similarities to Rainbow’s cutie mark, his zap apple with nine tiny rainbow-coloured lightning bolts shooting off in all directions.

Sniffing, Twilight smelled ozone and her magic sense was telling her that a magical thunderstorm approached, though the skies were mostly clear. No sign of any stormcloud. Her eyes saw the shimmering of the visible light spectrum and the shield reminded her of sunlight shining through a prism—that had been electrified somehow.

“Uh… Twilight…”

“Yes, Sunburst?” Twilight’s ears turned back to listen, but she stood with her nose almost pressed to the shield bubble.

“I am sensing dangerous levels of chaos magic again.” Unseen by Twilight, Sunburst licked his lips and began retreating. “It’s as if Sumac’s sorcery is warping harmony magic to make it behave badly. I don’t like it.” Now several yards away, Sunburst raised a golden, glittering shield of his own, which fizzled, sparked, and spat.

“Sumac, what is your magic sense telling you?”

From within his shield bubble, Twilight watched as the colt shrugged and Rainbow crossed her eyes. Curious, too curious, Twilight followed Rainbow’s example, stuck out her tongue, and closing her eyes, she touched it to the shield, fully expecting to be zapped, but that isn’t what happened. It tasted electrical, and there was a bit of a jolt, but it wasn’t dangerous. It was almost pleasurable, in its own way.

“Twilight”—Starlight’s voice was one of confident assurance—“we triggered Moondancer’s explosion by striking the shield. I suggest you give it a whack… carefully, of course. Any results with the taste test? Can magic be tasted? Can alicorns taste magic with their enhanced tongues?”

“I dunno yet,” was Twilight’s absent-minded reply. “More testing required. I need to lick more magical things.”

Within the bubble, Rainbow Dash had giggling fits, but Twilight ignored her, because the prankish pegasus pony was so perplexingly puerile. What was so funny, anyhow? Moondancer appeared in the corner of her vision and Twilight was glad to see her friend taking such an active interest.

“It appears to be the same electrical phenomenon observed around zap apples—”

“You’re right!” Twilight blurted out while nodding. “Good work, Moonie!”

“Uh… Twilight…” When Sunburst said these words again Twilight felt a sense of déjà vu. “Um, before we do anything, anything at all, we should deduct what we know about these two ponies and then make speculations about predicted outcomes. I cannot help but notice that both of the test subjects have lightning bolt themed cutie marks.”

“Yes”—Twilight found herself nodding—“very stylish. They share a matching theme. They also share a rainbow theme. Very cheerful and colourful.”

“Um… uh… is that all you have observed?” Sunburst asked while further retreating. “Because I observed that Moondancer has a cutie mark signifying a talent for magic and Sumac has a cutie mark that is unique for sorcery, and together, they produced a concussive magical burst that held so much force that it ignited the, uh, the um, the uh, very air around them and set it ablaze, and that, was, uh, what blew up your castle.”

“Oh please,” Twilight said, dismissing Sunburst’s concerns with a wave of her hoof. “I’m part pegasus now. I’ve made friends with electricity. We’re very close.”

“We’re not,” Moondancer muttered, and she began to back away. “I am a small quadrupedal terrestrial mammal that keeps my hooves on the ground and there is a lightning rod protruding from my head, right above the spot where my eyebrow used to be. Electricity and I don’t get along at all!”

“Moondancer, stop overreacting!” Twilight cast a stern sidelong glance at her friend, who was being a silly pony. “Moonie, you and I were on Canterlot’s Junior Weather Team! The unicorns took over Canterlot’s weather centuries ago because we’re so good at it. I don’t understand what you’re so afraid of—”

“I got struck three times, Twilight! Three times! Those clouds had it out for me!”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight offered up a dismissive wave of her hoof. “Pshaw! Nonsense. It was just random occurance.” A quiet voice in the back of Twilight’s mind reminded her that she had dismissed Pinkie Pie’s Pinkie Pie sense as well and she returned her attention to the shimmering, rainbow-hued shield.

It didn’t look dangerous…

Reaching out with her hoof, Twilight whacked the shield—which made everypony gasp—and nothing happened. Pebble, perhaps taking no chances, packed up her parasol, brushed grass from her gauzy sundress, and she hurried away as fast as her chubby-stubby legs would allow for without running.

Twilight smacked the shield again, and again, and nothing happened. Olive, after watching Pebble depart, chucked a small stone at the shield and it bounced off, harmless. Like Twilight, she tried again, throwing the same stone, this time with greater force. The ripples produced upon impact were breathtaking, and Twilight watched the dazzling display of riotous colour.

“Oh, hey, that’s pretty.” With a great deal of caution, Moondancer picked up a nearby stone, hefted it a few times, and then sent it flying into the shield with great force, revealing her power as a unicorn.

This time, the ripples were spectacular and rainbow sparks danced along the surface of the sturdy magical barrier. Inside, Rainbow Dash now looked bored, and was humming to herself, while above her, Sumac appeared mystified by his own magic. Smiling from ear to ear, Twilight waved her wing at Rainbow to cheer her up while taking a few steps back.

“Perhaps the inclusion of electricity somehow provides the shield with greater integrity?”

“It’s possible, Twilight, but I have no idea how such a thing would work. It seems curious.”

“Indeed it does, Moonie, indeed it does.”

Now, almost everypony save for Sunburst was chucking rocks at the shield, and quite some distance away, Pebble unfurled her parasol. Sitting down beneath its shade, she watched as curious equines tampered with strange magic they did not comprehend. Out of all the ponies present, Pebble might have been the smartest—or at least the one with the most common sense—but this remained to be seen.

“If we could replicate this effect somehow by applying electricity to unicorn shields, we could have a stronger defense for our strategic assets. It would revolutionise spot-defense during town invasions.”

Starlight’s words caused Twilight to pause with a stone held in a glowing, pulsating, glittering glow of vivid magenta. Electrically boosted magic shields was a terrific idea. The shimmering, glimmering rainbow glow of the shield reflected in Twilight’s eyes rivaled the manic gleam also to be found within. It was the glow of a purposeful alicorn lost in thought, the same sort of glow that might be seen reflected as the last vestiges of a recalcitrant city set ablaze collapsed into ashes.

Twilight had such lovely thoughts coursing through her beautiful mind…

“Pebble, would you like to try punching it with all of your earth pony might?” Twilight asked, not realising how far away Pebble now was.

“Nope,” was the distant deadpan reply.

Wanting—needing—to check shield integrity, Twilight realised it fell upon her to test it. Thinking earthy thoughts, she imagined images of dirt, stones, and glowing orange oceans of lava in her mind, following the advice of one Maud Pie on how to get in touch with one’s earth pony nature. With her mind, she reached down into the dirt below her hooves and tried to connect. She felt something, it made her tingle all over, and the muscles in her crotch clenched so tight that she worried that she might of sprained something unmentionable…

“KERCHOO-SHOO-SHOO-SHOO!”

The rapid-fire sneeze was infuriating; for it to happen at this moment of all moments. Snot flew out from her flared nostrils like confetti and streamers from a party cannon. All earth pony thoughts forgotten, Twilight tapped into her anger instead, stood up on her hind legs, pulled back with Ol’ Lefty, Wrecker of Tirek, and she bared her teeth in a fierce snarl. Inside the bubble, Rainbow Dash stuck out her tongue again and flapped her ears in the rudist, most impertinent way, an act that Twilight’s mother, Twilight Velvet, would have stood a pony in the corner for.

Twilight bore down with strength born of anger…

When her hoof connected with the shield, Twilight let out a ferocious bellow to aid in her follow through. There was a sputtering crackle, and Twilight’s hoof bounced from the shield with a flash of multi-hued light. Afterwards, frozen in place, Twilight tried to understand what had just happened. It was a blow that should have smashed the shield barrier, or at least weakened it. She had taken stone punching lessons from Maud and could turn boulders into gravel. Her hooves and the bones in her legs had hardened from the many stress fractures and microfractures she had endured. Twilight knew she was hardened, because Maud had said so and Maud wasn’t the sort of pony that would lie.

“That isn’t what I thought would happen,” a calm deadpan from behind her said.

Miffed, Twilight was pretty certain that she could punch Canterlot Castle from the Canterhorn if she was worked up enough. No, miffed wasn’t enough, Twilight was peeved, the dreaded p-word that a polite pony dared not make a public utterance of. Well, if she couldn’t punch through the shield, she would bring it down the old-fashioned way. That shield was coming down, because Twilight’s earth pony dander was now worked up and she was feeling stubborn.

With a flare of brilliant magenta light, Twilight’s horn ignited and she began to prepare for her shield-buster spell. Inside of his protective bubble, Sumac had joined Rainbow in making faces and blowing raspberries. Twilight suffered a Why I Oughta moment, as Prince Gosling liked to call them, and she knew she oughta. When she brought the shield down, she was going to hug the insolence right out of Sumac until he begged for mercy, because she oughta.

Reaching out with her magic, Twilight moved to pierce the shield, only to realise her mistake a fraction of a second later. Rainbow light flickered, there was an ominous thrumming hum, and then Twilight Sparkle discovered—too late—what it must have felt like to be on the opposite end of the Elements of Harmony. With alicorn speed, Twilight tried to backpedal away, but the rainbow train was incoming, the eleven-o’clock friendship express was barreling right into the station.

Never had a rainbow been so intimidating.

The arcing rainbow electricity snaked up her own beam of magic, struck her horn, and never-before-seen colours danced in Twilight’s vision while she danced a convulsive jig. As it turns out, lightning wasn’t her friend, no, lightning was a lot like Starlight Glimmer when she was bad. Lightning needed to attend friendship kindergarten, and how. Twilight rode the rainbow lightning for several seconds that felt more like several millennia, with each second—each millenia—longer than the last. After one sizzle to many, her horn shorted out, her magic died, and the beam fizzled from existence.

Staggering away, while Twilight tried to recover, the shield had to add insult to injury, and when she was about a half-a-dozen steps or so away, one final rainbow-coloured discharge zapped her right on the dock, sending electric agony shooting up her spine. It was the worst of pain, because it was an injury of pride. Twilight had a tender pride, and now, a tender tuchus too… there’d be no sitting on her throne, or any throne of any sort for that matter, for at least a week or more.

Extending her wings, Twilight tried to fan the smoke from her eyes and her rainbow-blasted retinas could see nothing. Her tongue felt leathery and too large for her mouth. The blast to her backside left her nethers clenching and rainbow sparks arced along her wings. Somehow, Twilight remained standing, because she was Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight Sparkles were difficult—though not impossible—to knock over.

After coughing out a cloud of rainbow-tinted smoke, she only had one thing to say: “Class dismissed… for now… come back after lunch.”

Author's Note

The Sunburst also rises

“Twilight?”

“Yeah, Spike?”

“Your methods seem a little off today, Twilight. You haven’t been very scientific, or careful, or even focused.”

Laying in the grass while staring up at the sky, Twilight listened to the sounds of Spike breathing, a happy sound, even if she didn’t care much for what he had to say. Spike had a knack for saying the right things though, and she held a faint, begrudging acceptance that he was correct. Today hadn’t been her most results-oriented sort of day.

“You know what I think, Twilight…”

“What’s that, Spike?”

“I think the pressure is getting to you. All of this is getting to you. And you used this to blow off your schedule so you could take a day off so you could have a bit of silly fun. That’s what I think.”

“Spike…”—she hesitated, unsure of the right words, but she owed her most trusted, most loyal assistant complete honesty—“the Princess Planner has to appear that I’m working. It seems like everything is a crisis now. I feel guilty sometimes if I try to take a day off. So much is happening. When I do take a day off, ponies want to know why I’m not fixing stuff, and it’s hard to face them.”

“I’ll make sure that today is written down as a science day, Twilight.”

“Thanks, Spike, you’re the best.”

“Twilight…”

“Yeah, Spike, what is it?”

“I think the Princess Planner could do with a few days off. I mean, I think that a few days off need to be shown in the Princess Planner. I worry what others might see, because that book is a public record, and it shows that you never take any time for yourself. Even Princess Celestia takes time for herself now, Twilight.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, Spike.”

“No… Twilight… you’ll do as I suggest, because it is my job to manage your public image. And… and… and if you don’t do as I suggest, I’ll go to Raven for help and tell her that your public image is facing a crisis and Raven will be the one to sort you out.”

Defeated, Twilight let heave a sigh and flailed her four legs skywards while feeling the warm, tickly grass against her back.

“So when can I mark down you having a day off, Twilight?”

“Surprise me, Spike…”

Rainbow Dash was gone, having flown off in a fit of boredom according to Sunburst. Twilight considered for a moment making her return, but then had second thoughts, realising that it was perhaps best to let the flighty pegasus go. Off by herself, Moondancer was picking bits of grass off of her sweater and Twilight wondered how her friend wore a wool sweater in the springtime sun.

Olive and Pebble were sharing an asparagus-flavoured sucker, passing it back and forth to one another, while Sumac whined about not getting any. The logic, while bizarre, was also somehow sound to Twilight. Olive and Pebble both insisted that sharing a sucker with a colt would be too much like tongue-kissing, which was super-icky-gross, but Twilight took note that they were fine sharing with one another, which made everything weird. How was it not like tongue-kissing when they did it?

“Okay, Sunburst, you’re the most harmless pony I know, and you’ll be up next with Sumac.” Twilight was almost—but not quite—confident that everything would be fine. Surely no devastation or act of random destruction would come from a symbiotic connection between Sumac and Sunburst, the forever-gentle court wizard of the Crystal Empire.

Upon hearing this, Sunburst pulled away from Starlight Glimmer, somehow escaping the event horizon of her eyes. For a moment, just the merest moment, Twilight wished that she had a better understanding of what made ponies tick, because she wanted to know what Sunburst and Starlight saw in one another. Was it a case of opposites attracting? Their personalities seemed so far removed from one another—so much so that Twilight often found herself wondering how and why Starlight wasn’t dying of boredom while spending time with Sunburst.

Perhaps some kind of honest-to-goodness study was in order.

“Making assumptions seems like a bad idea at this point,” Sunburst said while raising one hoof and holding it up so that he could make his point. “I was confident that Sumac pairing up with Rainbow Dash would be harmless, because she’s a pegasus pony. While the flying assist was expected, the hardened shield with stripping protections was not. Common sense and logic would dictate that the shield would be of exceptional strength for Rainbow and Sumac to fly at whatever speeds went zooming off at… I cannot even begin to calculate, but moving a thousand miles in a minute or so is unheard of. So the shield has to take physical abuse like nothing else. As for the magical backlash, that also seems logical in hindsight, as when one is flying at those speeds, one would not suddenly want the shield vanishing, because such a thing would no doubt be a fascinatingly fatal and…”

Sunburst’s words trailed into nothingness and he looked around at the ponies looking at him. “What? What? Is something wrong?”

Reaching out with her foreleg, Starlight grabbed his goatee in her fetlock, gave it a tug, and gazed into Sunburst’s eyes. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Again, Twilight wondered, what brought ponies together?

Now uncomfortable, she squirmed and sought to think of something else. Twilight had a crush once, which had lived up to its name. It had crushed her. It was something that she couldn’t think about, not now, maybe never. The tyrannical Sir Spanksalot crept into her memories and Twilight shoved it away, not wanting to imagine her rescuer—nor did she wish to imagine the cheesy horror lying in lurk, just waiting to ambush her.

“Twilight, you have that far away look in your eye. Are you still with us?”

Yanked back into reality, it took Twilight a few seconds to even figure out who was speaking to her. Blinking, she angled her head to look at Starlight Glimmer, whose eyes, like her namesake, glimmered with warm concern. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. I’m tired.”

“Thanks for the stock response, Twilight. What did I do to deserve that?”

“Starlight… it’s nothing. I was lost in thought and… it is nothing. Nothing I want to bring up right now, anyhow.” Twilight saw that her words were accomplishing nothing, so it was time for a better distraction. “We should get back to work…”

Spike, getting the camera ready, shook his head and let out a sad sigh.

The zap apple lozenge was dissolving on Sumac’s tongue and Twilight could feel the surge of power creeping through her as his sorcerous powers activated. It was faint, because he wasn’t at full charge, but it was enough for study, enough for results. Crackling arcs of electricity climbed up Sumac’s horn and bounced between his fuzzy ears, but he was unharmed by the electrical discharge—a phenomenon that Twilight intended to study, but had neglected.

Her eyes went from pony to pony, watching as Sumac’s sorcery overtook them. Muscles twitched, ears pricked, horns spat out sparks, and eyes focused as each of them had their inner potential revealed. Even with the study dose to activate his sorcery, Sumac turned unicorns like Sunburst into powerful wizards capable of almost anything. Starlight became truly powerful—dangerously powerful—and this brought up all manner of complicated thoughts involving trust. Even Moondancer, already powerful, approached ridiculous levels of output, all of which was made possible by sorcery.

Sumac was a living Alicorn Amulet, wanted by all, kept safe by many.

Even Pebble was not immune from the desire to possess him, and this had lead to many difficult conversations in which Twilight had tried to help the filly sort out her feelings for her friend. Twilight trusted in Pebble’s goodness, knowing that Pebble was Sumac’s friend first and foremost, and that the complication of his sorcery was just something that had to be coped with.

Reaching out with her mind, Twilight summoned the microphone, pulled it close, and when she had turned on the recorder she said, “Subject Sunburst has the curious ability to read cutie marks and gain an innate understanding of their meaning. He is a unicorn of immense power, but low output, making him a subtle asset for Princess Cadance, who uses him for diagnostics. His magic sense is highly refined, giving him great insight and understanding into magic as it happens. He and Subject Sumac may have the most refined magical senses to be found in ponykind, rivaling even the alicorns. Subject Sunburst is one of Equestria’s most powerful unicorn assets and it should be quite interesting to see what develops with Sorcerous Symbiosis.”

There was a heady rush as raw power coursed through Twilight’s body, a sensation that never failed to please. The last lozenge had faded much during lunch, which lead to Sumac saying some rather stupid things and behaving rather foalishly. Thankfully, the logenzes, being a refined, controlled dose, kept the side effects to a minimum and Sumac’s stupidity during recovery was minimised. At the end of the day, the effects of the lozenges would wear off, and Sumac would be returned to his mothers, who would look after him in his more simple-minded state.

Moving off to stand on his own, away from Pebble and Olive, Sumac raised his shield and stood within. The glittery green bubble made Twilight think of changeling magic, distracting her, and it occurred to her that Sumac’s magic talent, The Grift, wasn’t all that different from some types of changeling magic. He was good at swaying minds and convincing others. More study would be required, as not much was known about The Grift, except that it seemed to be the talent for rogues, ne'er-do-wells, and other unsavoury types that caused no end of problems in society.

Whether or not Sumac would be a good pony remained to be seen, but Twilight had faith in his goodness, due in no small part to his mothers—her friends—holding him accountable. Well, that and her own contributions, and Sumac’s own friends helped of course, because his friends kept him sorted out. Then again, Sumac had troubling friends, the Weirdos, Rejects, and Losers’ Club. Twilight knew they weren’t bad—just different—but it troubled her that Sumac did not fit in. With his magic so deeply rooted in chaos, Twilight wondered if harmonious ponies rejected him on some subconscious level, and most of his friends were chaotic in nature—Discord first and foremost.

Sumac stood on the ground, waiting, surrounded by his shield. Not the most powerful of shields, not yet, but the colt showed so much potential and Twilight was eager to watch him grow. She longed to see his potential bloom, to see what he might do, to discover how he might apply himself. With a wave of his hoof, Sumac invited Sunburst to come over, and the sunny orange pony roused himself from the grass with a grunt.

The shield expanded, Sunburst stepped through, and the glittery green glow changed to one of glorious golden orange. Twilight felt the heat hit her, a wonderful, gentle warmth that poured through her skin, permeating right into her bones, soothing her aches and pains. It lifted her spirits too, and without realising that she was doing so, she smiled. Within the bubble, Sumac was floating now and his tether had manifested.

“This feels amazing,” Starlight Glimmer said off to Twilight’s left. “The crick I have in my neck from playing Twister… it’s like it is melting.”

“I detect ultraviolet radiation,” Olive remarked in a matter-of-fact way.

Leaning in, Twilight focused the impressive sensory organ that was her horn, attuning it to the glow radiating from the shield. Sure enough, there was ultraviolet radiation emanating from the bubble, and something else… something that Twilight had a hard time focusing on. Twilight’s smile stretched from ear to ear and she marvelled at what she was witnessing; Sumac and Sunburst radiated artificial genuine sunlight together, but there was more to it than just that.

“I’m gonna get a sunburn.” Pebble raised her parasol, holding the handle with both front legs, and used it as a shield to protect herself from the toasty rays of warm joy.

Starlight Glimmer, who now moved in a wide circle around the shield bubble, had a thoughtful, confused expression on her face while she drank in the magic. Raw intelligence glittered in her eyes, purposeful intelligence, and after a time of study, she announced to the whole group, “It’s nice and all, but I’m not sure what practical purpose it serves. It’s sunshine. Actual sunshine, like what comes from Celestia’s sun.”

“It doesn’t need to be practical,” Olive retorted, trying to engage her master in debate. “Some things are just pretty, ya know?”

“All things should be exploited and made to serve a purpose,” Starlight returned while casting a disapproving glance in the general direction of her apprentice. “All of this power, all of this raw power and for it to do nothing but be warm and pleasant… that would be disappointing.”

“Both of you are stupid,” Pebble said from behind her parasol. “Cretinous idiots—”

“Pebble!” Twilight cried out in warning.

“—because everypony should know that the undead are violently allergic to ultraviolet radiation, you lame-brained nincompoops.”

Silence.

Twilight’s brain made a few hurried connections and she began nodding, because this was true. Oh, Pebble was wrong for pointing it out this way, but she had her facts right. Starlight’s smug superiourity was now pricked, which caused her to deflate like a pricked balloon, her haughty, purposeful expression fleeing from her face. Even Olive seemed crushed and stood with her mouth hanging open, no doubt trying to figure out how she had missed the obvious.

Sunburst and Sumac were a portable sun, an engine of warfare against the undead. Well shielded too, by the looks of it, and Twilight struggled to put the remaining pieces together. The warm sunny sensation and the cheerfulness it brought… it was… hope? With aches and pains all eased, with tired, fatigued muscles given new strength, Twilight began to see the potential applications. Was Sunburst’s own inner nature shining through? The very idea of harming the living made Sunburst cringe—but evapourating the undead was probably okay. Right?

“Sunburst,” Twilight asked while she looked at him through the shield, “how are you feeling?”

“Quite peculiar,” he replied while returning Twilight’s curious stare. “My usual state of anxiousness, nervousness, and doubt are gone. I feel confident like I’ve never felt. It’s like all of my fear is gone and I can face anything.”

“Anything else?” Twilight waited, wondering, hoping for more.

“There’s a strange magic, Twilight, but I am hesitant to tap into it—”

“Why is that, Sunburst?” Through the shield, Twilight could see a powerful blush on the unicorn’s bespectacled face.

“Uh… how do I put it?” he began and his goatee crackled with aetherfire sparks. “It’s female, Twilight. The magic is distinctly female in nature and I think—”

“DON’T YOU DARE MESS WITH THAT!” The husky bellow of command that came from Moondancer startled everypony and Twilight turned to face her eyebrowless friend. “This is a fully functioning miniature sun, with all of the powers of the sun. Ultraviolet rays, light, heat, and heat. For once, can we step back without having to mess with everything? Please? Keep Pebble and Olive safe. Keep me safe. The only thing that still works on poor Adventus is his nose and I don’t want to disturb my poor housemate.”

“Adventus thinks Fluttercup is a kitty,” Pebble deadpanned to nopony in particular.

A sweaty, twitchy sensation took over Twilight and she backed away from the glowing sun shield. Sunburst was sun-touched, meaning that he drew in a small portion of power from the sun. It was a minor thing—for the most part—offering him a little strength in his casting and recharging his energy reserves in direct sunlight. That connection—though however minor—was now interacting with Sumac’s sorcery in a weird, unexpected way. She wondered if this shield would function at night, and if so, would it have full strength or be weaker? So many questions for this potentially powerful application. Together, Sunburst and Sumac were an undead-smiting powerhouse.

“I think we’ve learned enough… for now. Further testing is required, but I agree with Moonie. Don’t tap into that magic, Sunburst.” When the last word came out of Twilight’s mouth, every mare around her let heave a sigh of relief, though Starlight’s held a distinct note of disappointment too. “Let’s move onwards to something else. Sumac, pair up with Olive next, and let’s have a look at what the two of you can do together.”

Author's Note

This is a chapter to take notes about...

Don't let the Sun come down on me

Spring days could not be more perfect. Twilight Sparkle sat in the grass, huggling Sumac, who struggled to be free of her embrace. Her sorcery-enhanced intelligence allowed for her to think deep, profound thoughts, such marvellous thoughts, such as the fact that looking after Sumac gave her practical hooves-on motherhood experience, and one day, she would be a perfect, flawless mother that made no mistakes, because all of the trial-and-error with Sumac was sorting everything out now.

Twilight looked forward to a perfect state of motherhood—when—and if the time came.

A butterfly went fluttering past and Twilight watched it, her head turning to follow its flight path. Bees buzzed about, tending to the blossoms of clover that poked up from the lush, green grass. Nearby, Starlight, Sunburst, and Olive were all blowing dandelion fluff into the breeze, while Moondancer and Pebble were having a quiet conversation amongst themselves. Even Spike seemed to be enjoying himself and was basking in the sun with his eyes closed.

Not much was getting done.

“Twilight?”

“Yes, Sumac?”

“You’re my aunt, Twilight.”

“Yes I am, Sumac. Always and forever.”

“And you are a princess as well...”

Wondering what the colt was up to, Twilight’s eyebrow arched and she waited.

“Does that make you Auntie Establishment?”

“Oh…” Twilight sighed, shaking her head while her heart welled with regret because her dear foalhood friend had clearly turned to evil. “Sumac, what has Twinkleshine done to you?”

“Mama Twinkle still gets raisin toast thrown at her.” Sumac’s struggles ceased and he settled against Twilight, smiling. “Like when Twinkle and Trixie play cards, thrown raisin toast is how I know that everything is normal.”

“My parents had rules… no throwing food at the table.” Twilight gave the colt a squeeze and hoped that he would get the message.

“We have rules too—”

“You do?” Twilight’s voice sounded far more shocked and incredulous than she intended.

“Yeah!” Sumac wiggled and when he tilted his head back to look upwards, his horn poked Twilight in the neck, but did not injure her. “Never be raisin your toast in anger—”

“Eeeeugh!” Rolling her eyes, Twilight groaned while the awful pun percolated through her grey matter, and left behind an unpleasant mental sludge. It was awful, just awful, and the colt seemed to have no shame. The spectre of doubt manifested in Twilight’s mind and faint concerns arose, worries about how his mothers were raisin him.

Too late, Twilight realised that she was now thinking in puns, and therefore, she was DOOMED. Oh, this went way beyond being mildly inconvenienced, and she wondered if Sumac was aware of the evil he had perpetrated. Probably. Maybe. It was possible. Sumac had a knack for evil that lingered, that persisted in spite of all of her attempts to weed it out. Causing others to think in puns left Twilight raisin a flag of warning.

“Vinyl and I are still trying to combine burro music with other genres,” Sumac said in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

“Oh?” Twilight had some faint hope now that Sumac had changed the subject.

“There’s a promising one that we call guac ‘n’ roll—”

“AAAAAAAAARGH! Sumac Apple!”

“Yeah, the guac joke was the pits, wasn’t—”

“Sumac, stop!”

“Or what?”

“Just stop!”

“I told Applejack that I could inflict invisible insults upon our enemies—”

“Sumac, no, no, no, please!”

“I told her watch this, I can dis-a-pear!”

“SUMAC! That’s horrible! Is that how you ended up thrown into the lake?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you deserved it!”

“You should have heard the one about living on a pear—”

“Okay, that’s it! Everypony back to work!”

“Or the time I told Big Mac to pony up and grow a pear—”

“UGH! NO!”

“—but he just snorted at me and I guess he wouldn’t give into pear pressure.”

Shrieking, Twilight let go of the colt and allowed him to run away, unable to bear another moment. She watched as he pronked away, springing about and gamboling, and she hated him just a tiny, tiny bit. The others had gone silent, stunned by puns, and Spike, poor Spike, the little dragon had the most dreadful look upon his face—he was discombobulated for sure.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” Olive said, borrowing Pebble’s deadpan, “the heir ap-pear-ent to Lulamoon Hollow!”

“Why me?” Olive whined while shaking her head from side to side. “Why—”

“Because you punned!” Twilight hollered. “Now pair up with Sumac—”

“Twilight, was that a—”

“No, Moonie, it wasn’t!”

“It sure sounded like it—”

“It wasn’t!” Twilight stomped her hoof in the most unprincessly of ways. “Olive, let’s see what happens when you and Sumac have symbiosis!”

“But… he smells!”

Exasperated, Twilight took a deep breath to summon her patience and tried to think Celestial thoughts. Her teacher, the alicorn known as Celestia, was unflappable. Biting her lip, Twilight tried not to think of the self-harm she had just inflicted upon herself. Her own folded wings flapped once against her sides and she was overcome by the powerful desire to cluck in frustration.

“Olive, really… colt cooties?” Twilight’s voice was calm now, and collected, but she still felt disturbed.

“But he does smell… and I’ll be trapped in a bubble with him. There’s no telling what he might do, Twilight.” Olive turned a pleading stare upon Twilight while her lower lip protruded. “Stinky colt smell is the worst.”

“Stinky filly stink is worser,” Sumac remarked with casual disregard, having already unsettled Twilight with puns.

Twilight started to correct him, but saw the ruse. If she was distracted now, she’d lose. All would be lost. These foals—these students—were clever, horrible, wonderful little goofballs, but Twilight was certain that she could wrangle them. She took a deep breath, saw that Starlight was smiling, and let it all out in a huff. Was Starlight enjoying this?

“Starlight, tell me—”

“What’s that, Twilight?”

“Did Sunburst have a stinky colt smell when he was little?”

Starlight’s eyes rolled upwards, almost all the way back into her head, and she began to rub her chin as she traveled back in time. “Yeah… yeah… now that I think about it, he was super-gross—”

Alas, poor Sunburst was indignant. “Starlight!”

Distracted, Twilight’s eyes darted from Olive, Sumac, Starlight, and Sunburst.

“You were stinky—”

“And you weren’t? Little Miss I Eat Three Meals of Boiled Cabbage a Day?”

“I was a picky eater back then! Cabbage was delicious!”

“You were the stinkiest of fillies!” Sunburst said, raising his voice. “You made the curl fall out of Ginger Candy’s mane—”

To this, Starlight went stiff legged, her tail flicked in a manner not suitable for foals, and her eyes narrowed. “I DID NOT!”

“Did so!” Sunburst stuck out his tongue, a shocking display of behaviour for the gentle orange pony. “The choir director called you Brassica Wind—”

“He never recognised my potential as a vocalist—”

“Because you belonged in the horn section!”

Moondancer, shuffling on her hooves, shook her head from side to side while letting out a sad sigh. “I never noticed the smell of stinky colts… I was a lonely filly, with only my eyebrow to keep me company.”

“Moondancer, I was your friend!” Twilight cried, unable to believe what she was hearing from her foalhood friend. “Your best friend! We were like sisters!”

“Some friend you turned out to be! You abandoned me!”

Mouth agape, Twilight’s ears rang with the sound of too many angry words to keep track of and everything around her devolved into chaos. Sunburst and Starlight were fighting. Olive and Sumac were insulting one another and making mean comments about stink. Moondancer said something about how her eyebrow was a better, more reliable friend. Only Pebble seemed calm, and she sat some distance away, shaking her head in disgust. Spike stood behind his camera, catching everything on film.

All of you! That is enough!

The voice was like a deafening thunderclap and Twilight Sparkle found herself very nearly bowled over. Her first instinct was to bow, to kneel down and lie prostrate upon the ground, but she reminded herself of her princesshood at the last second before she embarrassed herself. Everypony else though, dropped down and became acquainted with the green grass carpeting the ground.

Princess Celestia stood in radiant glory, her head high, her eyes wide, her jaw set in the manner of a stern schoolmarm. The earth itself trembled, as if it too feared the wrath of the one who stood upon it. Silence descended like a storm and Twilight noticed an odd fluctuation in gravity, because she still felt the need to bow down.

In a sheepish voice, Twilight dared to break the silence to offer greeting: “Hello Princess Celestia, what brings you here?”

“I felt a curious connection to my sun, as if somepony was draining some of its power away, and then I felt a most curious and disturbing connection to one of my most vital, most important, most necessary magics. I thought that the Great Enemy was trying to tamper with my sun again, perhaps in the hope of disrupting life. Disturbed and alarmed, I sought out the source of the phenomenon, and lo and behold, I find all of you here, fighting amongst yourselves.”

“I think we’re all a little stressed…” Twilight’s words faded away when she saw the disappointment in her former teacher’s eyes and she stood there, disheartened while licking her now-dry lips. It had been a while since she’d seen Celestia this angry or disappointed, and an irrational fear arose in Twilight’s mind about Magic Kindergarten.

From behind Twilight, Moondancer whimpered, “I told Sunburst not to tamper with the magic that would make mares go into heat. I told him, I told him.”

With that power I control the ebb and flow of life.

Twilight gulped while her ears buzzed from the strange, almost unlistenable words.

“What has been going on here?” Princess Celestia demanded. “What strange, reckless magical experimentation has been going on? Dimensional rifts from here to our west coast have been torn open and there are monsters everywhere! Everywhere! Odd magical disturbances have been popping up everywhere from here to there and all of them bear Sumac’s peculiar magical signature! My sun has been tampered with, and worst of all… worst of all… I arrive and all of you have fallen prey to sorcerous greed! How long until one of you might have tried to snatch poor Sumac and run away?”

“I fought against it, unlike these other weaklings who fell—”

Shut up, Pebble Pie!

With a wounded whimper, Pebble’s ears pinned back and she fell silent.

“Twilight… I told you, power comes with a price. Such is the way of harmony. Sumac’s talent is such that it seems to offer power without consequences, but there is always a price. What happened here, that brought this about?”

Twilight Sparkle’s mouth picked the worst time to go dry and not a single drop of saliva was left. Her tongue felt shriveled and now that she was aware of it, she sensed the disturbing sense of greed lurking in the back of her mind. Sorcerers had their own natural attraction, and others kept trying to take little Sumac. It seemed that the best, the brightest, and even those with nothing but good intentions for Sumac were not immune—Pebble included.

Her voice muffled because her muzzle was planted in the grass, Olive attempted to explain what was going on, and Twilight felt an immense swell of pride for her student.

“We found a new application for Sumac’s sorcery,” she began. “Sorcerous Symbiosis. Our powers can merge with Sumac’s sorcery with weird, unexpected results. Rainbow Dash transformed into something supernatural. She flew to the west coast and back in like six minutes. Then Sunburst tapped into the sun and he became a miniature walking sun with real sunlight… complete with ultraviolet rays. Twilight wanted me to link up with him next, and I… well, to be honest, I don’t know what came over me but it felt wrong and so I tried to find a way out of it and then everypony started fighting.”

Princess Celestia said nothing and Twilight felt her heart leap up into her throat. There was real terror in this moment, and Twilight did not feel like a good aunt, not at all, nor did she feel like a good princess. As for friendship? She had failed. She would have to chalk this up as a learning experience and find a way to avoid these mistakes in the future.

With a turn of her head, Princess Celestia did say something. “Spike, how are you holding up? Do not be ashamed, I only ask because I worry about you. You face unique challenges.”

Lifting his head from the grass, Spike then pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked up at Princess Celestia. Spike scratched his cheek scales, gave his frills a shake, and shrugged. “I’ve gotten so used to ignoring and shutting out my sense of greed that I can’t be sure of what I felt. Maybe I did? Maybe I didn’t? Hard to say.” He shrugged again, but no more words seemed forthcoming.

There was a sigh of relief that came from deep within the mare when Princess Celestia nodded. “This could have been much worse, I suppose. Perhaps we have the magic of friendship protecting us. I can only assume that Olive’s hesitation must be because of her deep and abiding friendship with Sumac… or her fear of cooties.”

Nopony laughed, nopony dared.

“This experimentation is over,” Princess Celestia announced. “I am going to escort Sumac home and then he and I are going to have tea. As for the rest of you, I suggest that you all try to sort yourselves out, and see what you can learn from this. Think upon what has happened this day.”

Twilight’s fears of Magic Kindergarten began to subside and she let out a shivery sigh.

“Oh and Twilight… a word with you…”

Like a phoenix, Twilight’s phobia of Magic Kindergarten arose from the ashes, blazing hot.

“Twilight Sparkle, I want your solemn oath.” Princess Celestia’s eyes blazed like the sun, and her ears were like spikes rising from her noble face. “You must never attempt this… Sorcerous Symbiosis. If Sumac’s powers are anything like the sorcerers of old, and they are similar so far, you must never, ever, under any circumstances attempt this connection… this symbiosis. I have seen the consequences, Twilight. This is a great power… one that should perhaps only be used in the most dire of emergencies, but never by you. Give me your word, Twilight Sparkle.”

The words were terrifying and turned Twilight’s blood into ice water. She stood, frozen, unmoving, her heart pounding in her throat and a great rushing sound in her ears. Everything that had just happened was still fresh in her mind, as well as the knowledge that Rainbow Dash’s trip to the coast had unleashed monsters. The fighting, the bickering, everything.

“I give you my word,” Twilight said to her once-teacher. “Not as a princess, but as Sumac’s aunt. I pledged to protect him from all harm—including me, if that becomes necessary. I’ll do what’s right.”

“Come, Sumac. We don’t want you covered in grass stains.” The big mare’s demeanour changed, going from schoolmarm to something warm and maternal. “It seems I had to rescue you again, Sumac. When will you cease resting upon your haunches so that you might go out and rescue yourself a princess? If I made Pebble a princess, do you think you could at least try to rescue a princess for once?”

Looking bewildered, Sumac rose up on wobbling legs while Princess Celestia adjusted his spectacles. She dusted him off with her wings, patted him on the head, and then cast one final stern glance at Twilight.

“Can I come for tea?” Pebble asked, timid and afraid. “May I please come for tea?”

“Yes you may. Turning her head, Princess Celestia offered up a warm smile and said to Twilight, “I shall hold you to your word, Twilight Sparkle. By the way, you really should take a day off once in a while. Perhaps you won’t be so frazzled.”

“Wait, can I come?” Olive scrambled to her hooves, stumbled, and was caught by the warm golden glow of Princess Celestia’s magic. “May I please come for tea? Pretty please?”

“Ooh, this approaches a tea party. Come along, young Olive. Escort me. Be my guard, will you? There are wastrels in the streets of Ponyville, like young Sumac here, and Twilight does nothing about them.”

In stupefied silence, Twilight watched them go, wishing that she too, could come and have tea, but she had an inkling as to why Celestia had lead the foals away. It was time for Twilight to clean up her own mess and for the adults to be held accountable, herself included. First and foremost, a round of apologies were in order, and then perhaps their own tea party so that the bickering could truly be laid to rest.

A short distance away, Princess Celestia waved, and Twilight Sparkle returned the affectionate gesture…

Author's Note

I offer no apologies for the puns. Not a one! Thanks for reading, I hope you had fun!