Rickety old wooden wheels jounced and thudded and creaked in protest as they rolled along the old dirt pathway. Soft mulberry ears flicked beneath her tattered purple hat at the sound of those boxes and crates jostling about. An old habit, caused by an unfortunate incident in Bridleton in which somepony’s adventurous foal had accidentally knocked a lit candlestick out a window and into one of her boxes of magical fireworks.
At least she’d been able to put that fire out before it spread. Though there was no saving her old cloak and hat—a thought which still drew a wince and shift beneath her new one each time it came. There was something about the new cloak that just didn’t quite fit. It didn’t have that well-worn, travelled feel. The sort which came from long days on the road, the sweat of lab work and must of late nights studying, and of course that of battle.
Even the lecture on fire safety she’d given didn’t satisfy.
Twilight Sparkle the Purple Magus of Their Highnesses’ Court—or Twilight the Purple, as most preferred to call her—took a look back over her shoulder to check her cargo. No fires, thank Epona. And no sign of any of the mischievous, adventurous foals who lived in the Harmony Province trying to clamber in either.
Not yet, at least. She still wasn’t in Ponyville proper. Soon enough, however, she’d find herself surrounded by eager ponies, young and old, all clamoring to hear about her latest adventures, the far off lands Princesses Celestia and Luna had sent her to learn and teach and guide those in need, and for a sneak preview of the night’s festivities. Everypony would be there.
Well.
Everypony save for the one she came so far to see. For she was far too polite, far too much a “proper lady” to clamor and prance about in public. Behind closed doors, however …
Even by her lonesome, out in the rolling green fields and vast open pastures that led to the sleepy little town on the edge of the Everfree Forest, she bit her lip in vain effort to hide a smile. Twilight couldn’t help it. Then again, there weren’t many who could? Who, even among those who met her each day in Ponyville, could deny the urge to stop and behold the perfect curls in her regal purple mane and tail, an unmarred coat as white as snow which seemed to command the sun itself to caress her form, and her eyes …
Well, Suitors from far and wide had come to call on her before, so many with their fine dress and riches bared for all to see, some even came prepared with song and poem to try to woo her like some character out of a romance novel. A gesture one who didn’t know her well enough, beyond those romance novels, passion for dressmaking, and dramatic inclinations might think enough to sweep her straight off her hooves. And oh-so-many had focused their attention on her eyes.
Whether it was calling them glittering sapphires or gems shining in the moonlight, there were at least a hundred or so different niceties she’d heard, and a few who ventured just a bit too far and made reference to the trio of diamonds emblazoned on her flanks. Her talent for gem locating and crafts was fine to compliment, but …
Well, Twilight wouldn’t have been quite so bold upon their first meeting. But she was hardly one to complain that some rich stallions in their ivory towers came down just to stick their hooves in their mouths. It just meant more time for her to appreciate the mare without any guilt about coveting another’s lover.
Almost as soon as the thought came to mind, there was a flash and explosion of sparks and colorful smoke. A fond smile played upon Twilight’s lips as she slowed to a stop, waiting for the familiar voice to sound out in greeting.
She didn’t have to wait long. In fact, the voice didn’t come through the smoke at all. Instead, a mare of powder blue coat and silvery-white mane, garbed in a matching purple had and cape decorated with a splash of stars and crescent moons, came striding through, tendrils of smoke washing off her body as she approached, her violet eyes narrowed in irritation.
Trixie Lulamoon stopped a mere two steps from Twilight and huffed, pawing a divot in the dirt path. “Twilight Sparkle!” she scolded. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has ventured forth from Ponyville to receive you, only to find that you dare arrive late on such an important day for one of your closest friends!”
Her act was perfect. A true showmare, if ever there was. One who didn’t know her might even be taken aback by the heated glare she aimed at the young magus.
Twilight met her with an impassive gaze. “A magus is never late, nor is she early, Trixie Lulamoon,” she replied cooly. “She arrives at the precise hour, the precise moment she intends.”
“And did you intend to arrive just in time to not help with preparations?” came her counter.
“Just in time to set up my fireworks show and ensure that none of the foals manage to cause trouble with them, especially those three little fillies, actually.” Her brows raised. “Showing up just as the rest of preparations were finished is entirely coincidental.”
The pair held there glares for a moment longer. Then, Twilight’s lips began to quiver, she could see Trixie’s shoulders shaking and either corner of her mouth tugging into a toothy grin. With a laugh and toss of her mane which nearly sent her hat tumbling from her head, the stage magician leapt forward and caught Twilight in a hug so tight, it almost made her rips crack. Laughing, she pushed the brim of her own hat back and returned the embrace. “It’s good to see you again, Trixie,” she said softly.
Trixie drew back to hold Twilight at foreleg’s length, her smile as bright as the sun itself. “Trixie is quite glad to see Twilight the Purple as well! Word of your deeds at Talon Ridge and Yakitty-Yak has spread far and wide—everypony in Ponyville was stunned to hear the tale of how you calmed rampaging hordes of Yaks and Elk. Trixie doubts there are any who could manage a feat, perhaps excluding Their Highnesses, of course!”
A sheepish grin played upon Twilight’s lips. “Oh, it wasn’t that big a deal,” she muttered, tugging the brim of her hat back down to hide her face. “I was just doing what anypony would’ve done.”
“Twilight, please.” Trixie fixed her with a flat look. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does find modesty a fine virtue, but downplaying such deeds?” She snorted, releasing her embrace and turning to allow Twilight passage into town. “She won’t hear a word of it! Especially not when most would turn tail and flee before a pair of charging hordes!” Pausing a beat, she leaned in and spoke in a low, almost conspiratory tone, “Trixie has wondered though whether or not it was true that Twilight the Purple teleported between the charging hordes and halted them with the sound of her voice?”
“Er, well, it wasn’t just my voice.” Her cheeks filled rosy pink. “I, um, ended up rigging a few of my fireworks to go off in their paths to startle them, and let my Will slip into my voice. I’m afraid I may have deafened a few for a time.”
“Well, better ringing ears than shattered spears, Trixie should think. Shall we?” She gestured down the path.
Nodding once, Twilight began again, tugging the cart forward with just a little pull of her magic to make those first steps a little easier. As Trixie fell into step with her, mercifully matching her pace, she asked, “So, where’s Starlight? I thought when I sent her ahead the other day the pair of you would be attached until it was time for us to leave again.”
The stage magician beamed. “Trixie and Starlight have spent time catching up on her adventures and lessons learned at Twilight’s side. She’s also been quite eager to help with preparations.” She paused to aim a sidelong look at Twilight before continuing, “When we realized that you were late—”
“A magus is never late!”
“—When we realized that you were running horribly, horribly late,” Trixie spoke over her, “the Great and Powerful Trixie was dispatched to ensure you hadn’t wandered off to contemplate the magic in nature. Again.”
Sputtering, Twilight set her jaw. “I’ll have you know that’s Fluttershy of Everfree who wanders through the forests! I only join her occasionally, when I’m in the area!”
Trixie waved her off. “Be that as it may, Trixie had to be sent away from her dear friend Starlight in order to make sure you arrived safely and on time for the festivities. Really, with such an important day for a friend, one would think …”
Her voice faded into the background as Twilight continued onward at an idle pace, eyeing her with a sidelong look and a bemused smile spread across her face. Arriving safely? Her? Humble though she liked to be, there was little that worried Twilight in Harmony Province—this far from the Everfree’s northern boundary, that is. A quiet, lonely walk down the path was hardly any cause for worry.
And please. As if she’d be late for the night’s festivities. As if she’d be late for her birthday.
That perfect, pearl-white smile each time they met was enough to draw her heart back to this sleepy little town again and again every year. How could she miss it today?
A gentle nudge to her shoulder drew Twilight out of her thoughts. She started, turning toward Trixie as they rounded the bend and headed down the final stretch toward Ponyville. “I’m sorry, did I wander off again?”
Trixie hummed an affirmative. “Indeed. You missed Trixie telling you of Fluttershy of Everfree bringing a few of her forest friends into town. Evidently, Barry the Bear loves cake and can cut quite the rug.” A knowing glint shown in her eyes. “Perhaps Twilight the Purple’s mind wanders a farther up the pathway, hmm? Perhaps closer to a certain mare in her shop?”
Twilight felt the heat rise in her cheeks, filling a rosy pink. “I-I-I wouldn’t know what you were talking about!”
“Oh, Trixie thinks you know exactly who she’s talking about.” Her grin sharpened. The stage mare stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against Twilight’s. “Who else does Twilight the Purple journey so far out of her way to see? Certainly none other than one mare in this little town.”
“It’s her birthday and she’s my friend! Of course I’d make the trip—and it wasn’t even that far!”
“This time, yes. However, there have been others Trixie recalls, and more she’s heard from Starlight Glimmer herself.”
Biting back a curse at her wayward student, Twilight pulled the brim of her hat lower and set her eyes at the path ahead. “You must’ve heard wrong, then,” she said, trying to brush it aside. “Starlight does love to exaggerate. Besides, Ponyville is the best supplier of gamjing leaf in all the land, it’s only natural that I’d want it fresh. Besides.” She gave her tail a nervous little flick. “I’ve been running a bit low of late, so this is a bit of a self-serving visit as well.”
“Is that so?” Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight could see her grin turning positively vulpine. Eerily reminiscent of an ancient fox spirit she’d dealt with in Neighpon. “The funny thing about living in Ponyville,” Trixie drawled, “is how familiar Trixie’s grown with the different scents of produce. Apples, of course, carrots, but especially gamjing leaf. It’s got quite a distinctive smell … and Trixie smells quite a bit in the cart.” Before Twilight could think to stop her, she lit her horn, floating the familiar bag and long wooden pipe out from where she’d stashed it. “Perhaps Twilight would enjoy a bit now? To relax after such a long journey, that is.”
“Er …” Twilight eyed the pipe, her smile faltering. Already, she could feel her insides squirming at the powerful scent. “I think I’ll hold off. For now, at least.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” The pipe floated nearer. “This is a vacation of sorts for Twilight, no? So why not enjoy a little vice?”
“I don’t think Rarity would appreciate if I showed up smelling like gamjing smoke is all.” Her ears splayed for an instant, then pricked. “She hates the smell.”
Trixie nodded, conceding her point. “That she does. And Starlight tells Trixie how you cough and struggle with it yourself anytime you try. However, she does so radiate despite it, even sitting near a window to accommodate. Not to mention …” she trailed off, idly floating the bag back to rest in the cart. She took a few steps forward, her silvery-white tail swishing. “Trixie will confess, Rarity’s mood whenever Twilight the Purple arrives is positively gay.”
Her steps faltered. Stumbling forward, Twilight quickly pushed her hat back and gaped at the mare even as she continued onward. “What?”
But Trixie stayed silent, that accursed smile of hers grew wider still. Her ears waggling, she all but pranced forth, giggling even as Twilight hurried after her, cart and all, and demanded explanation.
“Trixie Lulamoon! You get back here and say that again or so help me!”
No matter how she demanded, pleaded, or cajoled, that blasted stage magician would give no more. Just that accursed smile and twinkle in her eyes, and humming a merry tune as they strode into Ponyville, where everypony in town was scurrying about to put together final preparations.
Ponyville, as Twilight had been so charmed to see during her first visit years ago, was a town quite steepled in the old pony ways. Predominantly earth pony, yes, given it was the Apple family who helped found it, but its townsfolk had since grown to open their hooves to their kin and make some slight alteration to tradition. Very slight alterations.
One, however, which had never been altered was their love of welcome visitors, especially old friends of the town.
It never failed that Twilight would be swarmed the very instant she stepped hoof in town center, surrounded by a gaggle of ponies young and old, all sizes, colors, eyes wide in wonder, and ears standing straight while they babbled excited greetings, offered hoof-shakes, and even hugs!
The latter came mostly in the form of a few select mares offering a gentle embrace and welcome home, and the foals at large latching onto her legs, begging her to share the latest stories of her deeds. Always the same.
And it never failed to bring a bright grin to her face and laughter to her chest the likes of which she normally only reserved for her closest friends and teachers. Twilight did her best to return all hugs or at least offer an affectionate tussling of the mane to each foal, smiling almost sheepishly at her friends amongst the locals.
“One of these days, yer gonna end up stayin’,” a smirking farm pony named Applejack drawled, tipping her hat politely before closing the distance to offer a hug which nearly cracked ribs. All that time spent volunteering with the Everfree Rangers had done almost double what farm work ever could. Her brows disappeared beneath her bangs. “Lan’ sakes, mare! Do ya eat at all when ya travel? I didn’t think ya could get any skinnier last time ya visited!”
Behind her, Rainbow Dash snorted. “Oh, lay off, Ay-Jay! She’s bound to lose a little when she’s running around!” She sidled up to visit a playful punch to Twilight’s shoulder, Applejack’s fellow Ranger was quite the creature of habit, then leaned in to stage whisper, “So, about the yaks and elk. You gotta tell us how you did that—there’s, like, twelve different stories floating around Harmony Province alone, not to mention the ones in Canterlot!”
Her words whipped the crowd of ponies into a renewed frenzy. Twilight felt her cheeks heating, she ducked her head and pulled the brim of her hat low. A nervous smile betrayed her flattery, growing worse still as she noticed Starlight and Trixie off to the side, their eyes glittering while they enjoyed the show.
Just past them, though, her savior stood. Her head low as if to make herself smaller, and her verdant cloak in stark contrast to her powder pink mane and yellow coat.
The great big grizzly bear standing beside her didn’t do wonders to help her hide at all.
With a smile as bright as the sun, Twilight disappeared from the crowd in a blinding flash of magic, then reappeared at her longtime sister-mage’s side. The Purple Magus bowed her head and greeted her warmly, “Fluttershy of Everfree, how are you, old friend?” Her eyes flitted to the mare’s companion, she bowed once more. “And hello to you as well, Barry.”
Barry returned her greeting with a toothy grin and low, pleasant rumble, then turned to his little friend and prompted her with a gentle nudge of his great paw. The sudden move prompted a squeak and rustle of wings.
“Hello, Twilight,” Fluttershy replied softly, returning the little bow in kind. “I’ve been well. I’ve made a lot of animal friends in the forest, and even met some species I’d never seen before.” Her eyes positively danced at the mention of her companions. She’d always been one who favored the company of nature than crowds of ponies. Then, she smiled and added, “A lot of them have been gossiping though. About you.”
“Oh?” Mulberry ears twitched. “What ever about?”
Sucking in her lips, Fluttershy had to bring a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “It seems it’s not only ponies who hear and spread tales about Twilight Sparkle the Purple Magus.” Those cerulean eyes shone with mirth. “They love to pester me until I tell them about the time we protected that phoenix nest from timberwolves together. It’s one of her favorites to hear as well, whenever she’s over for tea.”
Teasing? Fluttershy? Twilight blinked and raised her brows. Clearly, her old friend had finally taken her advice and sought the company of other ponies, to widen her tiny circle of friends beyond animals and herself. But really, teasing her?
Worse, Fluttershy keyed in on her surprise. Pale yellow feathers fluffing, she cast a meaningful look over her left shoulder, toward a particular building which didn’t quite match the straw-thatched roofs and paned windows. “She’s been waiting for you.”
Twilight would later deny how she sputtered and choked on her own saliva. “I-I beg your pardon?”
“Ever since she got your letter, Rarity’s been waiting. It’s rather cute, really.” Again, she glanced over her shoulder, toward that splendorous boutique the mare so prided herself on running. One that almost seemed in stark contrast to Fluttershy, who always seemed more at home with leaves and flowers woven into her mane by squirrel and chipmunk friends, and a tattered old cloak.
Wait a minute, where was her tattered old cloak? This one was new. And … made of some rather fetching material, with a rather nice leaf pin fasten around her neck.
Rarity’s hoofwork, Twilight realized. My, how times had changed. It was only a year ago that Fluttershy could only stand the company Rainbow Dash, her parents, the Princesses, and Twilight herself as far as ponies went. Other than that, she’d been as skittish as a bunny.
“You’ve been talking to her quite a bit then,” Twilight replied as evenly as possible. “I believe you mentioned spa dates in your last letter. I had no idea you would enjoy a spa, though I suppose it makes sense, given your love of hot springs.”
Humming an affirmative, Fluttershy beamed. Her eyes still shone, she knew Twilight’s tricks well.
Such was the nature of companions in the tiny magus community. Those who watched one another’s tricks grew wise and took notes. A handy habit to get into, when one considered how there was never a guarantee that magi’s goals would always align. The deeds Sombra of the Black Plains committed during his fall from grace hadn’t been forgotten, and he’d been one of the greatest of them all.
Unfortunately, it meant there were certain ponies who wouldn’t be swayed by clever wording or carefully steering conversation.
“Oh, yes, the spa is quite lovely. The twins are nice, they like quiet conversations, too, so it’s not too taxing. And Rarity and I can chat as we please.” That accursed smile of hers only seemed to brighten. “I’d share details, of course. But I’m afraid I was sworn to secrecy.” Barry snorted, earning a giggle and pat on his arm. “And bribed with ginseng and chamomile tea, yes, Barry. Thank you for reminding me.”
Twilight leveled her with a flat stare. “If you can’t tell me,” she said slowly, “then what do you hope to gain with this teasing? Since you seem as satisfied as a cat who’s caught the canary.”
“Nothing at all,” came Fluttershy’s reply. “Consider it a courtesy from one magus to another. A favor, if you will.”
Her brow arched. “Teasing me is a favor now?”
“Only a little bit. But yes, seeing as she’s looking out her window right now, waiting for you to make your way over.”
As soon as the words left Fluttershy’s lips, Twilight almost fell over herself leaning to her right to gaze passed her shoulder to check. Just in time to see a flicker of movement in the window, a single, snowy white ear darting out of sight as soft satin drapes. That rosy blush returned in full, spreading to her neck.
A satisfied hum from her longtime friend drove her tow quickly shift her cloak as if cold to cover herself. “I—I suppose it would be rather rude of me not to go say hello to her as well,” Twilight stammered.
“Oh, very rude,” Fluttershy agreed, her smile as sweet and innocent as a foal’s laughter. “Would you like Barry and I to watch your cart?”
“I’d appreciate that.” Her gaze flitted to the friendly grizzly. “If Barry doesn’t mind, that is.”
With a great yawn, Barry leaned forward to fall on all fours, his paws thudding against the dirt path as he began to lumber toward her cart, pausing just long enough to give a affectionate, sloppy lick to the side of her face.
Fluttershy’s eyes shone with naked mirth. “He says it’ll give him something to lean against during his nap, but he’ll at least make sure no pony tries to wheel it away.”
Humming an affirmative, Twilight nodded her thanks. Her mind drifting to a certain bag she’d kept tucked safely away in her rucksack. “Thank you. My—ah—gift for her is in there as well.”
“I doubt any pony will steal it, but I’ll make sure.”
“Thanks, Fluttershy.” With a little bow and an affectionate hug, Twilight stepped passed her friend and trotted toward her new destination—Carousel Boutique, that delightfully decorated circular building with white painted walls and thin columns. One of these days, she’d have to see if she could pry just where Rarity got the inspiration for that oddly whimsical name from her lips.
Maybe with a little enticing, an insidious little voice which sounded a bit too much like Trixie whispered.
Twilight was rather glad her hat covered her burning ears. She made a quick mental note to see about a spell to do away with such pesky things and continued on, her tail swishing like an eager foal’s on Hearth’s Warming morning. Or, rather, like an eager, nervous suitor on Hearts and Hooves Day.
She stopped just before the door and raised a hoof to knock, cursing inwardly at the slight tremble. Why should she tremble? She was Twilight Sparkle the Purple Magus, why should she be so nervous to knock on a door?
Of course she knew. But logically, it was foolish. Why couldn’t logic dictate biological response? Stupid nerves. Stupid Trixie teasing her. Stupid—well, she couldn’t even think to call Fluttershy stupid, but that knowing look certainly didn’t help matters!
Just as her hoof was about to knock on the wooden door, it swung open to reveal the very mare she’d so longed to see. Those sapphire eyes were wide and glimmered with life, her mane, as always, had been brushed and styled into its immaculate curls, and white coat absolutely resplendent.
Though perhaps nothing drew Twilight’s attention to the fading dusty pink still coloring her cheeks. Both Fluttershy and Trixie’s words echoed in her ears, but not so loudly she didn’t hear that musical voice float to her ears.
“Twilight!” Rarity greeted, her smile like sparkling diamonds. She paused a half-second, as if realizing herself, then coughed and stepped to the side. “Please, come in! Where was it you were this time?”
“Er …” Twilight blinked twice to clear the cobwebs. Only an extra look and a gesture prompted her to take the first step inside the lavish boutique, a sheepish grin played upon her lips as her hooves touched soft carpet. Where had she been again? “Starlight and I visited Emerald Isle after the, ah, incident between the yaks and elks. I’m not sure how much you’ve heard of that.”
She shut the door with a deft flick of shimmering blue magic. “Plenty, but even I know better than to put too much stock in the gossip. Especially when your deeds are involved, darling. Would you care for tea? You must be thirsty after such a long journey.”
“Please.” Who could blame her? The trip had been long.
But, Celestia, did that gorgeous smile make it all worthwhile.
No matter how often she visited, there was a small part of Twilight, that little nagging voice which analyzed everything, that couldn’t help notice the discrepancy between Rarity’s boutique and kitchen. The boutique itself was, naturally, a work of art in terms of interior design—forgiving the occasional clutter of fabrics, pins, and measuring tape when her “muse” struck. Her kitchen on the other hoof, was a more modest affair.
It was small. There was a table fit for four at most sat in a little nook just out of the way, a little stove off to the corner a short reach from the sink, an oven, and a rack of cooking utensils hanging beside cabinets filled with plates, bowls, and other glassware.
Twilight chose the seat nearest the wall, in part so she could have her back to something solid, a habit picked up after years of wandering in unpleasant places. But, more importantly at present time, so she might take a quiet moment to appreciate the living beauty chattering away about dresses and gemstones while she made tea.
Oh, it wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen somepony or some creature of particular beauty or grace in her time. After all, she frequently found herself a welcome guest in the company of hippogryphs, elk, and deer, both of the Forest and Glen, not to mention those rather enchanting changelings found in the northern mountains and eastern forest surrounding Hollow Shades—though one should not fail to note the danger in those from the Western Badlands and Wild South.
But they weren’t Rarity.
Their eyes did so shine and coats did capture light, but they were just … too supernatural for her tastes. Twilight adored them, of course, they were wonderful friends, despite the changelings’ incomparable love for tricks and the cool gaze of an agitated deer. But there were some days she quite missed being in the company of regular ponies. If only so she could be more awestruck when she met one like Rarity.
Yet each time she thought in such a manner, she came back to Ponyville and saw her again, and any such notion that she couldn’t be stricken so died a swift death in the recesses of her mind. Then was promptly cremated and scattered into the sea when Rarity turned around with a happy bounce of her curly tail and captured her gaze, a tray of tea held aloft in a bubbling blue glow.
Twilight noted for what must’ve been the thousandth time that any one of her friends from other kingdoms would surely find themselves in similar state if they ever laid eyes upon Rarity.
And Sireadh Firinn would try to cajole her into staying with her hive in the forest, she thought with a fond smile. And the instant I protest, she’ll give me that blasted look that melts ponies’ hearts and repeat her tireless invitation for me to remain as well.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to prepare yours for you,” Rarity said, cutting through her flowery musings.
“Not at all.” Twilight smiled and shook her head. “You know well enough how I like it.”
The mare beamed, and Twilight felt she could’ve died happily and moved onto the Great Plains Beyond. “Earl Neigh. Splash of cream, stirred three times, tapped twice against the rim, no sugar, never lemon.”
She even knew the number of stirs and rim taps, both essential to Twilight’s enjoyment of good tea. Was there any doubt this mare was perfect in every way?
“Now, darling, tell me all about this visit to Emerald Isle,” Rarity said as she slid into the seat across from Twilight and sipped at her own cup. “I believe in your last letter you mentioned looking for something on behalf of your friends in the forests near Hollow Shades, yes? One of the, ah, changeling groups?”
“Hives, but yes.” Twilight nodded once. “There’s a bit of a dispute between they and the kelpies on who own claim to being the rightful descendants of those who came from the Faerie Glen within the Eternal Forest.” Pausing a moment, she took a deep sip of tea. A satisfied note built within her and gave itself voice in a low hum. Perfect as always. “Have you heard tales of either?”
The mare shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as well-read as you. Frankly, the first time I heard of either was your first letter about the trip.” A delicate brow arched. “Along with some note of legends telling that no pony who ventured in ever emerged the same, if at all, I believe,” she said, a note of foreboding creeping into her tone.
“I took precautions,” Twilight hurried to assure her. “Most of it was because the inhabitants, the Kindly Ones or the Tricksters, the locals call them, tend to dazzle ponies with their dances and shimmering magic. It’s not so much that they hurt anypony—er, unless offended or challenged,” she amended. “Then, well, I think I’ve told you how some of my friends can be about such things. They’re rather … foalish, by comparison to what the old tales imply.”
“Foalish how, might I ask?”
Suddenly, Twilight found herself quite interested in the steam rising from her mug and the comfort of heavy silence. When that persisted and a glance stolen up revealed an expectant gaze, she splayed her ears and muttered, “Being kept as a servant would be considered a kindness depending on how grave the slight. Being left to wander the endless forest was one of their favorites, if not worse.”
Rarity’s brow disappeared beneath her bangs. “And you went into that forest alone?”
“Not alone. I had Starlight.”
“Forgive me. You and Starlight went into that forest alone?”
“Er.” She squirmed. Why did she suddenly feel like the little filly three princesses caught sneaking into the Royal Archives after hours all over again? “Would it help my case at all if I mentioned that their city was abandoned entirely and had been for what must have been thousands of years, and that Starlight is probably getting rather close to rivaling Fluttershy in terms of power?”
“Did the pair of you know you wouldn’t be met with furious Kindly Ones or Tricksters or Whatever-They-Were when you set out?” At the way Twilight winced, she drew in a breath. “I see. Did your brother or Princess Cadence know about this?” Her eyes sparked. “Did Princess Celestia or Luna?”
Her heart leapt into her throat. “Please don’t tell them!” Images of those younger years flashed before her eyes. To the three of them, she was still very much the little filly they taught. Especially the sisters.
By the sun and moon and all the stars, she’d never hear the end of it.
An almost catlike smile played upon Rarity’s lips. “You told them you’d have accompaniment, didn’t you?”
Twilight squirmed. “I … may have implied that I was going to just interview locals and read up on old accounts for now,” she admitted. “And then send them my findings and ask for a few guards to go with us.”
“Oh, darling!” Sighing theatrically, Rarity shook her head and took another sip of her tea. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Pretend you didn’t hear me admit all that and forget I told you I went into the city the next time you see them?”
She laughed, the sound as lovely as sunshine and rainbows. Her smile took on a dangerous edge. “I’m afraid that’s quite out of the question. You’d best tell them first, because I have tea arranged with Princess Cadence in two weeks, then a trip to the opera together. You’re invited, of course. I think both of us would quite like that, and Shining as well.” Something about the look in her eyes told Twilight it wasn’t exactly a request.
What was there to do but relent? “I don’t think Starlight or I planned to travel too soon after your birthday.” A quick letter of apologizing to King Olorin and explaining that she’d have to miss the Springtime Gala for personal reasons would see to that.
“Excellent. It’ll give you plenty of time to talk to them, and me plenty to make you a dress—yes, a dress, darling,” Rarity drawled before she could protest. “We’ll be going to the Canterlot Opera House, and I, for one, shan’t allow you to appear in your robes like the Grand Galloping Gala. This time, you’ll be donning proper formal attire.”
Twilight opted to bite back a comment that her new robes were quite nice and were most definitely suitable formal attire. She was already in enough hot water as it was, and, really, this was meant to be a happy day for Rarity. It was her birthday, after all, hardly a day for her to fret.
Which meant it was high time to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Speaking of your dresses, how’s business been?”
Those sapphire eyes flashed, her snowy white ears stood ramrod straight. The teasing edge to her smile gave way, returning that bright, sunny countenance Twilight had so longed to see these past several months. Rarity launched herself into a vivid recounting, the full details of each dress, each client, what was asked, which colors, how she had to do her level best to direct some away from their own vision toward one more fitting their image. “A pony’s vision,” as she said for what must have been the thousandth time since they met, “can be a wonderful thing, darling. But there’s always another take. And, loathe though I am to say it, some visions just don’t fit.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Fashionably lacking though she was—or so she was told—Twilight could recall and think of more than a few times she’d seen mares and stallions alike sporting a look which did more to hurt their impression than help. Keeping her ears up enough to hear snippets of gossip certainly helped.
Such things were unimportant. Her focus was on the light which seemed to radiate from the beautiful young mare as she spoke, how she gestured wildly with her hooves like she meant to conjure the very images of dresses, ponies, and actions for Twilight to see. Could the Purple Magus think of a spell or two to make it possible? Of course.
But why rob herself of this?
The pair finished their tea long before Rarity ended her recounting and paused to glance up at the clock. “My, four-thirty already! Time does fly when in good company, doesn’t it?”
Four-thirty? Twilight had to stile a piteous groan as she rose, stretching her hind legs to work out a bit of stiffness and made to walk toward the fitting room, toward the front door. “That it does.” She gave a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, that means that I need to go set up my fireworks before somepony gets any bright ideas. And get ready to put the final touches on your gift.”
The instant the words left her lips, Rarity’s eyes flashed and ears twitched. An almost vulpine smile began to spread across her features. “Oh, really?” she purred, swishing her tail. She began to saunter toward Twilight slowly, a tantalizing sway in her hips timed with that delightful swishing, almost hypnotic in how it drew Twilight’s eyes and rendered her tongue numb.
“Er …” The Purple Magus took a hesitant step back, laughing nervously. “W-Well, you see, it’s. Um. It’s a thing that requires that I do a thing along with another thing. To, ah, make it a thing.”
“How very informative!” came the retort. Rarity continued forward until Twilight felt her backside hit the doorjamb, and kept coming until she was close enough to place a gentle hoof upon Twilight’s chest and trace tiny circles as she leaned in so close their noses almost touched. “I don’t suppose there’s some way I might convince you to give something a bit more concrete, dear? Some way I might entice you to give me a hint?”
She had to swallow a lump. Was that chocolate rose perfume? It was chocolate rose perfume. Why did it have to suit her so well? And why did the warm breath washing over her face have to make her heart race so? “Er, um, well.” Twilight’s eyes darted about in search of an escape. “Isn’t it bad form to tell before it’s time?”
“True, but I’m not what one would call rooted in tradition. I can be quite a progressive mare.” She tilted her head to one side, leaning in closer, their noses but a hair’s breadth apart. “So, how do I convince the vaunted Purple Magus to part with valuable information?”
How?
Uh. Well, Twilight would be lying terribly if she claimed she didn’t have the slightest inkling of one way or another how she might be convinced. The issue, rather, was more that her tongue, mouth, and brain were currently tying to untangle themselves and decide whether the best course was to babble an excuse, squeak and teleport, or give into that insidious little voice in her head which was currently trying to convince her of the merits of using this as the chance to say something flirtatious. Or to just ask for a kiss.
Her face felt as though it might burst into flame as that thought came to mind. It would be easy. Wonderful, even. And it wasn’t like Fluttershy and Trixie hadn’t implied it would be more than welcome.
Twilight ran her tongue over her dried lips. “Well … I—um—well, I—”
A loud, shrieking whistle followed shortly by a sudden explosion and chorus of crackling made the pair start. With a yelp, Rarity leapt forward and wrapped her hooves around Twilight’s shoulders and buried her face in her shoulder. The Purple Magus held managed to rear up just in time to catch and hold her close, her ears up and eyes alert, any sign of nerves or hesitance evaporated in an instant. Wrinkling her snout, she craned an ear toward the door. There was something about that sound.
Another explosion and crackling sound, followed by a sudden onset of high-pitched squealing filling the air spurred a tiny groan. “Oh, no,” she whined, thudding the back of her head against the wall. “Not again.”
“Again? Darling, what’s—”
She didn’t reply. Instead, Twilight released her embrace and gently guided Rarity to stand on all fours before dashing out of the kitchen and through the fitting room, her horn alight with a shimmering raspberry glow to pull the door open so she wouldn’t have to slow her pace. The scent of burning wood, smoldering powder, and ash made her stomach turn, and the chorus of explosions mixed with startled ponies yelling as they dove for cover, dragging foals along with them, drew a curse.
None quite made her teeth grind the way the sight of her precious cart jumping and rattling with each firework which shot off into the evening sky, its frame smoking and fiery tongues flickering almost mockingly.
But there was one pony among all others who hadn’t fled or dived for cover.
Her form wreathed by a shimmering green light, Fluttershy of Everfree stood tall and proud between the cart and a crowd of ponies, her head high and verdant green cloak fluttering in the wind, her cerulean eyes alertly tracking each firework that shot off into the night and lips moving with muttered spells to guide them upward, high above the rooftops where they might safely detonate. All the while, she did her best to carefully direct them away from a Rainbow Dash and a pair of weather pegasi as they struggled to find a raincloud that hadn’t been reduced to wisps by the sudden heatwave.
Oddly enough, Barry was nowhere to be found. But, then again, the cart hadn’t moved other than jumping, so Fluttershy may have told him to take cover while she dealt with the matter.
However, Twilight’s mind was racing toward multiple points. There were ponies in danger, somepony had set the mess off, her cart was on fire, and Rarity’s gift no doubt still in its pouch!
If anypony had gotten hurt or her gift spoiled, there would be words.
Twilight gritted her teeth, turning her focus to the fire. Protection and wind spells to direct fireworks away from ponies was well within Fluttershy’s prowess, but her forte, her command of plant life and kinship with animals, didn’t serve the situation well. Fire had always been her area.
Princess Celestia had seen to that personally.
She took a deep breath, a shimmering, twisting raspberry glow wreathing her body as she muttered a spell in a language long forgotten by pony ears. Extending her will, Twilight bellowed the final verse of her incantation and smothered her cart with her magic. Small enough so it wouldn’t crumble, but forceful enough to kill the flames with a sudden fwump!
And then there was heavy silence, save for the last remnants of sparkle powder crackling overhead.
Twilight strode forth, her purple cloak billowing as she approached her smoldering cart with eyes flashing and jaw set. She peered over the edge, reaching in despite the lingering heat until she felt her hoof brush against a small, burlap sack. Her heart skipped a beat, she tugged it out of its hiding spot and swiftly unbound the twine, and peered inside. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, she let her shoulder slump and thudded her forehead against the edge.
Thank Celestia!
A steady cadence of hoofsteps drew a flick of her ear. She felt a gentle hoof touch her shoulder, like a lover offering comfort. “Were you able to save anything?” she heard Rarity ask.
She glanced up to check her rucksack. Intact. Another happy mercy. “I saved your gift” she replied softly. “And my things.”
“Darling, I think we may need to re-examine your priorities,” Rarity said with a little laugh. She tugged gently, coaxing Twilight to turn to meet her eyes, concern still written plain across her face. “Are you all right?”
All right? Twilight blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be? I put out the fire before I came to check on the cart.”
“Not what I meant, dear, but I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
“Oh.” She blinked again. “You meant emotionally.” At Rarity’s nod, she drew in a breath. Her eyes slowly scanning her surroundings, flitting from one pony to the next. “I’m rather irritated,” she said finally. “I’m irritated, and I’d like to have words with whoever was foolish enough to set off an entire cart full of fireworks in the middle of town square unsupervised.” Pausing a beat, she turned to let her gaze sweep over the crowd as they emerged from their hiding places, each freezing beneath the gaze of the angry magus. “Now.”
Each made a point to shake their heads, some went as far as to mutter quick alibis, some swearing they’d never touch somepony else’s belongings without permission. Especially her fireworks. Comforting, but they hadn’t just set themselves off. She’d taken care of that problem years ago. Right after she’d nearly hit Luna’s observatory.
A familiar titter made her ear flick. Twilight furrowed her brows and turned, perplexed to find Fluttershy looking off somewhere between a Sugarcube Corner and Quills and Sofas. Before she could think to ask just what could be so funny, Fluttershy glared over her shoulder, her eyes shining with mirth. “I think Barry might have gone off and found our culprits,” she said through another bout of giggles. “I don’t think you’ll need three guesses.”
Curious, Twilight stepped around her cart and trotted over to her friend, with Rarity following in her wake. As soon as she reached Fluttershy’s side, she looked up to see Barry lumbering forward on his hindlegs, his massive forelegs wrapped around three little fillies and one mare, each sporting soot-coated faces and sheepish grins.
She brought a hoof to her forehead to stem an oncoming headache. Of course it would be them.
Rarity didn’t have nearly so much restraint. “You three, again?” she yelled. “Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you to stop these silly crusading antics? You could’ve hurt somepony!”
Though the fillies hung their heads and tried to hide in Barry’s arms, the mare with them had no such shame. “Aw, c’mon, Rarity!” she chirped, the curls of her pink mane bouncing with each of the bear’s steps. “We were just trying to see which fireworks Twily-Wily the Purple brought! We had to make sure she had the big ones!”
“Oh, really?” Even Twilight flinched at the false sweetness in her tone. “Tell me then, dear Bard Pinkie Pie, did our fair magus bring the big ones for my birthday celebration?”
Realization must have hit in that instant. Pinkie Pie ducked her head, her ears splayed back. “Yeah. I, uh, accidentally tripped on the fuse and set it off. And then once it went off …”
She didn’t have to say it. Twilight knew full well what happened when one of firework lit in the middle of a cart full of them. Her shoulders slumping, she turned to fix the smoldering vessel with a forlorn look. It was going to take weeks to make and enchant a new one.
“Sorry, Twilight,” the four intoned.
Her ear flicked. Turning slowly, she eyed them in silence, her lips pressed together in a flat grimace. A low growl rumbled in the back of her throat, and sent them ducking into Barry’s fur to hide.
Rarity laid a gentle hoof upon her shoulder again. “I think,” she said, her eyes trained on the foursome, “it would be fair if you three helped repair or remake Twilight’s cart, since it was you who damaged it so. Wouldn’t you agree?”
They dared to peek, dared to look at her again. Just in time to catch Twilight’s brow slowly arching until it nearly disappeared beneath her evenly trimmed bangs.
It was all the prompting they needed to blurt out in agreement, spurring a sigh and shake of the head before Twilight turned away to survey the remnants of her cart once more.
She heaved another sigh. Sometimes, she regretted taking up fireworks as a hobby.
If there was ever proof of Rarity’s power over her mood, Twilight certainly had it in the wake of the firework accident.
Rarity had never been one to cling, but there were always moments she insisted on being together. Her birthday, however, was the one day she never failed to allow herself a bit of selfishness. More so after learning of that little jaunt into the Eternal Forest and how upset she’d been at the loss of her poor cart.
“It’ll be fine, dear,” she whispered for what must have been the umpteenth time. After the presents had been given, save for Twilight’s, as she insisted that she had to prepare one last piece, the mares had slipped outside. In part, aided by Pinkie’s insistence that she could handle cleanup.
Or, rather, her insistence so she could get a head start on making amends. The fillies, on the other hoof, were caught trying to sneak away after being enlisted to help with dishes.
One glance at Fluttershy’s too-sweet-to-be-natural smile put a quick stop to that.
Brushing her shoulder against Twilight’s, she leaned in, their sides touching as they each enjoyed a slice of yellow cake with sweet purple frosting, and what looked to be a third of one of Rarity’s diamonds on Twilight’s piece. “You’ll be here a couple weeks anyway, think of it as a little side project to occupy your time. You could even give it a canopy—why, I have the perfect material for it. Something hardy, but not too heavy. It would keep your things out of the rain.”
Twilight hummed around a mouthful of cake. It would be one less enchantment to lay. Then again, Starlight had mentioned wanting to expand the cart so they could have an actual place to sleep rather than on the ground or trying to spell a cave warm so it’d be suitable. She licked her fork clean of icing, then said, “That, or we could make a bigger one. Starlight and I have discussed it. I think she wanted to borrow from Trixie’s design.”
Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That would be better! Forgive me if it’s out of place of me to say, darling, but I do abhor how you both spend your nights on the cold hard ground if not at an inn. You’re going to end up with back pains if you keep that up!”
A fair point. Aches would make fighting or running quite difficult down the line, if it came to that. And knowing her luck, it very well would. “Well, it’s definitely something to consider. I could even see about playing around with a few spacial-dimension spells to give us al little space. You know, it’s really—” She caught sight of the bemused grin on Rarity’s face and stopped short, coughing into her hoof. “Er, pardon me. You probably don’t want to hear about that boring stuff.”
“I’ve never minded hearing you talk about magic, dear,” Rarity replied, her smile more beautiful than the setting sun. “You get so excited when you explain. Like a little filly ready to open presents on Hearth’s Warming. Your smile is never so beautiful.”
There had to be some spell in her words. Something laced into her voice, perhaps, which stoked the fires beneath Twilight’s skin and brought a rosy hue back to her cheeks with such force she had to hide it behind a terribly faked cough so she could avert her gaze. Beautiful? Her smile?
Oh gosh!
She shifted, in place, the tickling sensation of coat playing against coat not lost upon her. If not for Pinkie doing everything she could to stay in good graces, she’d almost hope for a little interruption to save face.
It didn’t come. Damn.
“Speaking of beautiful things involving Twilight Sparkle, the Purple Magus,” Rarity purred. She set her plate aside and leaned in close, her lips mere inches from Twilight’s ear. “You’re a wicked, wicked mare, making me wait so long for my present. The anticipation, the suspense, they’re just killing me, darling. And here I thought you said you weren’t the sort to play games with a mare’s heart.”
For a split second, Twilight felt her breath catch in her throat, a hasty denial coupled with assurance her intent wasn’t along those lines leapt to the tip of her tongue. Then she saw the teasing gleam in Rarity’s eyes.
She fixed her with a sidelong look. “Has anypony ever told you that you’re the absolute worst?”
The mare threw back her head and laughed. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds. “Only those I love the most.” She leaned in once more, her lips curving into a vulpine smile again. “I say to the mare still holding my gift over my head, keeping me in suspense all this time.” A pleasant hum in the back of her throat sent shivers down Twilight’s spine. “Or were you trying to avoid making a scene and keep me to yourself?”
Twilight’s cheeks felt aflame. “I wasn’t—that isn’t—wait a minute!” She drew back and pointed a dramatic hoof at Rarity. “You’re teasing me again!”
“You make it far too easy, dear. And, really, keeping me waiting so long, I am a little entitled to do so.”
A fair point, not that Twilight would admit so aloud. Glancing at the back window of Sugarcube Corner’s kitchen. She sent forth her Will to teleport their plates and forks back to the kitchen, right by the sinks. A chorus of fillies whines brought just a hint of satisfaction to her chest.
But it was quite short-lived. Nerves soon crept their way in and spread like a virus, her mouth went dry and felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton swabs. Slowly, she nodded and retrieved the pouch from its place beneath her cloak. “There’s still one more thing I need to do,” she said. “Well, two, really, but it’s part of the same thing. We need to be in your boutique again.”
Rarity fixed her with a bemused smile. “Not to complain too much, but is there a particular reason you couldn’t do that while we were there earlier?”
“To be perfectly honest, I was planning to, but then Pinkie and the fillies blew up my cart.”
“Fair point.” She rose gracefully, flirting the tip of her tail against Twilight’s side. “Then onward, so this mystery present might be revealed!”
Twilight pretended she didn’t nearly trip over herself in her haste to get to her hooves and follow Rarity back to Carousel Boutique, back through the sweets shop so they might bid their goodbyes, and then out once again into the cooling evening.
A short walk saw them back in Carousel Boutique once again, back in Rarity’s humble kitchen, this time without the chance for any unfortunate accidents. Hopefully.
She needed little prompting to approach the table and set her pouch down so Rarity could open it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to wrap it,” Twilight said. “But … well, there are a few spells that sometimes don’t react well with wrapping paper.” Not that it did much to stop a fire, anyway. With a little cough, she forced a smile. “I hope you like it, though!”
“Oh, darling, I’m certain I will.” A shimmering blue glow wreathed her horn, Rarity unbound the twine and tugged the pouch open, peering inside. A tendril of magic snaked in to retrieve three items—two necklaces, one amethyst, the other sapphire, and a large crystal stone the size of one of her hooves. Her eyes lit up. “They’re beautiful!” she said breathily. Then, she paused, blinking and staring at the crystal stone. “I feel … a lot of magic in this one. Thrumming. Is it meant to thrum?”
Twilight nodded once. “It’s part of the spell,” she replied, extending her Will out to the stone to trigger the marker. The stone flashed white once, then dimmed.
Perfect.
“I see … what was it you had to do? And what was that just now?”
“I just did it, actually. I’ve put a few enchantments on it. Some things that use the stone as a beacon and the necklaces …” She couldn’t help but smile, both proud of herself and anticipating Rarity’s wonder once she realized. But what were words? Lighting her horn, she summoned the amethyst and placed the necklace around herself, then did the same for Rarity with the sapphire. “Why don’t I show you, actually? I’m going to go into one of the other rooms. When I tell you I’m ready, I want you to think about being where I am. Okay?”
“Sounds simple enough.” Perplexed, she tilted her head. “Is this some sort of—”
“It’s honestly better to see than hear. Trust me.” She backed out of the room, a bright, eager grin threatening to split her face. “Remember, when I call, just think. The necklace and stone will do the rest.”
Before Rarity could question further, or that smile could betray her glee, Twilight turned and hurried from the kitchen. When she reached the staircase, she turned so quickly her hind legs nearly went skidding out from underneath her, but she pressed on undeterred, climbing the stairs two and three at a time in her haste to reach the top. Her eyes flitted about for a moment, settling at last on a door to her left. Rarity’s supply and muse room, as she called it. Throwing caution to the wind, she pulled the door open and stepped inside, practically bouncing on her hooves.
The look on Rarity’s face would be so worth the effort!
“I’m ready!” she called loud and clear.
Rarity’s voice floated to her ears a beat later. “Okay … here goes?”
Oh, was it ever worth the effort when Twilight felt the amethyst around her neck vibrate as a raspberry glow washed over the room, then the flash of brilliant blue a mere step before her very eyes, and the silhouette of Rarity’s lovely form as the light died down to revealed a stunned mare standing with eyes wide and jaw hanging.
Dear Celestia, was it worth it.
“How in …” Rarity trailed off, her eyes flitted about for a moment before settling on Twilight again. “We’re in my muse room. I was in my kitchen a second ago, but now I’m … with you in …” Twilight took a split second to savor the instant realization flashed across her beautiful features. “Your gift brings me to you?” she practically squealed.
“More than just that,” Twilight replied, beaming. “Think about wanting to go home. It’ll take you back to the stone’s location.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Rarity caught her in a tight embrace, nuzzling her nose as a bout of giggles took her. Giddiness shone naked in her eyes. “Why in Celestia’s name would I ever want to do that?”
Unable to help herself, Twilight laughed and returned the hug. “Just to show you how it works, I promise. You can come right back up as soon as you get there.”
“Oh, very well!” She let go, that grin still spread across her face and tail swishing. “Don’t—don’t move a muscle!” Rarity commanded. “Not a muscle! I’m coming right back here as soon as this works, and then—”
There was another flash of blue, Rarity blinked out of existence before she could finish her sentence. Twilight perked her ears just in time to hear a jubilant squeal from the floor below, she brought a hoof to her mouth to hide a smile as Rarity returned in another flash and tackled her, babbling her thanks and squeezing her tight.
Laughing again, Twilight met her eyes. “I take it that was worth the wait?”
“Yes!” Rarity squealed. “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” She drew back and held Twilight at foreleg’s length, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Slowly, she leaned in, pressing their noses together. Those beautiful eyes of hers were Twilight’s entire world. The only sound, a hushed whisper, “This is the best gift you could’ve given me.”
Her heart did a backflip. Two, even! The heat rose in her cheeks again, Twilight splayed her ears back and ducked her head, trying to hide a bashful smile. “W-Well, I’m glad you like it.”
Rarity gave a breathy laugh. “Like it? Darling, no. No, I don’t like it.”
Twilight didn’t have a chance to question further. Her lips, she found, were quite occupied, claimed by the softest, sweetest kiss she’d ever dreamed. The heat in her cheeks spread throughout her face, to her very chest.
It ended all too soon. Rarity smiled softly, transfixing Twilight with a half-lidded gaze as she nuzzled a slow circle around her nose. “The only thing I love more is you,” she whispered.
Their lips came together almost of their own will, drawn by a force more powerful than any magic Twilight or any magus before or since could wield. A force to which she was happy to surrender, and let her eyes flutter shut as she wrapped her hooves around Rarity’s waist and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. She’d waited so long for this moment, and, at last, it came. Neither early or late.
But precisely when it was meant to be.
Author's Note
Significantly more fluffy, though I won't lie, I kinda want the adventures of Twidalf and Fluttergast now. >.>
