Friendship is Manic

“We’re not starting out that way,” Twilight Sparkle grumbled, pressing the packet of ice harder against the base of his horn. “Please, anything but that.”

“What’s wrong with ‘Once Upon A Time’?” asked Spike, his sidewise eyelids performing a curious, wet blink.

“It’s the most clinically cliche of all fairytale cliches,” Twilight snapped. “I am a scholar, a scientist of the arcane. I deal in facts, not vague, unscientific speculations on when a possibly mythical ancient event may or may not have occurred.”

Spike blinked once more, his reptilian irises scanning the royal gardens in which they happened to be studying. Other unicorns strolled about, a gentlecolt in a suit and tophat arm-and-arm with a lady in a rather tight dress, both whispering and giggling to each other. Mothers played with their foals, fathers tossed frisbees about in telekinetic games of catch with their slightly older children, and a few elderly ponies simply sat on the park benches, tossing breadcrumbs to ducks and pigeons.

Through it all, Spike could hear the clip-clop of pony hooves, see the swirl and glow of unicorn magic, smell the tasty scents of treats sold from food carts. Out of all of them, Spike and Twilight were the only ones clearly not enjoying their morning.

“Spike?” Twilight interrupted Spike’s thoughts. “Equestria to my number one assistant?”

“How do you want me to read you this textbook if I can’t read what it says?” Spike asked.

“Paraphrase,” Twilight requested. “Think of it like how you edit the letters from Moon Dancer.”

“Like how I replace every time she says she wants you to come skinny dip with her in the Palace Pools with ‘Dearest Sir Twilight Sparkle, might I humbly request your presence at the royal aquatic facilities to study the application of hydrodynamics on the anatomy of an Equestrian female’?” Spike chuckled, performing his best impression and mock-batting his eyelashes at Twilight.

“Spike!” Twilight hissed, his cheeks suddenly red as his eyes darted nervously around the park, not that anypony seemed to have been close enough to hear.

“Or the other way, when you have me write her back and say ‘My esteemed colleague and fellow scholar Lady Moon Dancer, I must humbly decline your request so that I may pursue less base pursuits than fluid dynamics and biology,’ and I write ‘Thanks Moon Dancer, but I’m awkward and nervous around pretty mares’?” Spike carried on. “I tried letting her down easy for you, but I still don’t think she’s getting the hint. Do you think she’d lose interest if she found out your idea of a fun morning was reading a dusty old book in the park?”

“Spike, cut it out!” Twilight growled, his horn glowing threateningly for a moment before sparking out, prompting him to wince and hold the ice bag more firmly against its base. “What if somepony heard you? What if Moon Dancer heard you?!”

“Oh, hello Moon Dancer!” Spike said, giving a friendly wave to somepony behind Twilight.

Face redder than the setting sun, Twilight whirled around to see nopony at all. His ears drooped and his eyes twitched, however, when he heard a subsequent uproar of draconic laughter.

“If I didn’t have a magic migraine, I’d cast a curse of silence on you,” Twilight said, though he couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“But it’s so much fun!” Spike laughed. “Fine, fine, let’s get this over with. The sooner you finish your boring studies, the sooner I get breakfast.”

“They’re not boring, they’re enlightening,” Twilight said, leaning back against his shady perch under the overgrown oak tree. “Finding the truth behind the mystery of the cosmos, figuring out the very nature of existence itself, from the misty annals of history and legend... What could be more exciting?”

“Dying?” Spike muttered. “Painfully?”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Spike sighed. “Let’s get this over with. ‘An indeterminate amount of time ago,’ there were two regal sisters who ruled together, and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn. The younger brought out the moon to begin the night.”

“Princess Celestia harnessed the unicorn aspect of her tri-equine alicorn nature to impel solar movement,” Twilight said.

“What?”

“The eldest sister is Princess Celestia,” Twilight said. “If you won’t cut through the flowery fairy tale language, I’ll have to do it myself.”

“Fine, fine,” Spike relented. “And sure, the older sister must be Celestia. But what’s this about her having a younger sister? I’ve never heard of another alicorn.”

“I haven’t, either,” Twilight admitted. “There are references to another alicorn figure in ancient myths and legends, but this book has the most information I’ve seen about her.”

“Why don’t you just ask Princess Celestia if she has a little sister?” Spike asked. “And why are you having me read this if you’ve already read it?”

“I’ve tried,” Twilight said. “She deflects the question or says something cryptic each time, so I’ve given up. I’m surprised I found this book at all; I’m beginning to suspect she personally removed most references of this ‘other alicorn’ from the archives, though I don’t know why. As for why you’re reading it to me, it’s because I have a magic migraine. You know it’s hard for me to focus when I have a horn-ache.”

“Why do you have a horn-ache, anyway?” Spike asked. “You weren’t trying to teleport again, were you?”

“No, of course not,” Twilight said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Right, sure,” Spike chuckled. “Princess Celestia’ll be awfully mad if she finds out you got stuck in a wall again.”

“Just read the book, please,” Twilight groaned.

“Thus, the sisters maintained balance for their kingdom, and their subjects, all the different types of ponies,” Spike continued. “As time went on, the younger sister became resentful. The ponies relished and played in the day her elder sister brought forth, but shunned and slept through her beautiful night.”

“Motive for a potential conflict,” Twilight thought aloud. “What I don’t get is why this ‘mystery princess’ would get mad at ponies for being a diurnal species. We all have to sleep sometime; shouldn’t that be obvious?”

“Especially if somepony needs to tell Moon Dancer he’s too tired from studying to take a long walk through the Royal Gardens under the moonlight,” Spike added. “Anyway, one fateful day, the younger sister refused to lower the moon to make way for the dawn. The elder sister tried to reason with her, but the bitterness in the young one’s heart had transformed her into a wicked mare of darkness... Nightmare Moon?”

“Wait, what?” Twilight asked, sitting up a bit too quickly and rubbing his temples to quell the ensuing sting in his horn. “Nightmare Moon? As in, ‘Nightmare Moon of Nightmare Night?’ The old holiday figure from rural folklore?”

“I don’t know, Twilight,” Spike said. “I’m just reading the book you said you’ve already read, for some reason. Here, we’re almost done, then you can think it over while I get breakfast.

“Nightmare Moon vowed she would shrowd the land in eternal night,” Spike went on. “Reluctantly, the elder sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to pony-kind: the ‘Elements of Harmony.’ Using this powerful magic, the elder sister defeated the younger and banished her to the moon. The elder sister took on responsibility for both sun and moon, and harmony has been maintained in Equestria ever since.”

“That last part sounds familiar,” Twilight murmured. “The Elements of Harmony... Hold on, Spike.”

Reaching for his satchel, Twilight rummaged through other old tomes, far more than should have logically fit inside such a bag, before yanking out a book that looked almost as aged and worn as the one Spike held in his lap. Flipping through the pages with his fingers and grumbling at the temporary loss of his magic, Twilight’s eyes at last widened.

“Elements of Harmony,” he read. “Powerful magical artifacts referenced in an ancient creation myth early ponies used to explain the separation of day and night and the conflict between light and dark magic. Legend says that the forces of light used the Elements to impose lunar exile on the ‘Mare in the Moon,’ a folkloric manifestation of evil, but that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she shall bring about eternal night.”

“So it’s just an old fairy tale after all,” Spike said. “I thought you hated mythology and urban legends and the idea that you might actually need to get out and have a social life of some sort.”

“Ignoring that last comment,” Twilight said. “Ancient legends are sometimes based on hidden truths, ponies of yore trying to make sense of what they couldn’t understand. Even if their reasoning may have been flawed, what they witnessed might have some basis in fact.”

“And all of that would mean...?” Spike asked, to no response. “Uh, Twilight...?”

Glancing over, Spike frowned to see Twilight staring straight ahead, his brow furrowed, using one hand to stroke his slightest of beards. The pose would have looked rather dramatically studious, or so Twilight would have hoped, had he not had to use his other hand to keep the ice bag pressed against his horn, the chill moisture dampening his mane and sending the occasional water droplet sliding down his face.

“Why don’t I leave you to it while I grab us something to eat,” Spike said, slowly standing as he lowered his eyelids, which for him meant half-closing them on either side. “I’ll be right--”

“That’s it!” Twilight exclaimed, standing up with a forefinger pointing skyward, only to collapse back against the base of the tree a moment later, both hands clutching his horn tightly. “Gah! Horn-ache! Why does it have to hurt so much?!”

“What’s it?” Spike asked, reluctantly plopping back onto the shady grass.

“The longest day of the thousandth year,” Twilight managed to say, letting his ice bag drop as he stood shakily back up. “That’s this year’s Summer Sun Celebration. We have to warn the princess at once! Spike, take a letter, it’s of the utmost importance.”

With a wild look in his eyes, Twilight turned to Spike, who merely rolled his own eyes and let out a smoke cloud of a sigh. When Twilight didn’t relax, Spike peered up at the tall, thin, wiry unicorn lad he’d been saddled with and crossed his short, scaly arms.

“Spike?” Twilight asked. “The fate of Equestria itself may hang upon our next immediate actions. Songs may be sung of our heroism for decades, if not centuries, to come, but only if we act quickly. The letter, Spike? Spike, why aren’t you taking a letter? Spike?!”

“Letter number one, day two of your apprenticeship to Princess Celestia,” Spike said. “You made me send her a letter warning her that you’d found an ancient prophecy predicting the fall of magic itself in the lost annals of the library. She rallied the guards and summoned Equestria’s greatest sorcerers, only to find out you thought a comic book was ancient magical history.”

“Spike, that was years ago,” Twilight said. “I’ve done nothing if not learn the difference between fantasy and disaster in the meantime.”

“Letter number two-hundred and forty-three, two and a half years ago,” Spike went on. “You made me send her a letter about how some evil unicorn must have cursed you and your room, only for her to tell you that since you never clean up your room, the crumbs you leave everywhere got moldy, and you were having an allergic reaction.”

“The symptoms of the Curse of Pestilential Malice are incredibly similar to mold allergies,” Twilight retorted. “I wanted to be sure.”

“Letter number five-hundred and ninety-nine, yesterday,” Spike continued.

“You really don’t need to bring that one up,” Twilight said.

“You made me send her a letter that a dream-witch had attacked you in your nightmares,” Spike added. “The witch had somehow cast an evil spell that wounded you in your dream and also wounded you in real life.”

“Please, Spike, I get it,” Twilight hissed. “But this is--”

“Celestia had to explain to you that the damp spot in your bedsheets was not, in fact, blood, and it wasn’t even red,” Spike finished. “It was something that most colts learn on their own when they’re thirteen is a ‘wet dream,’ not something an immortal demigoddess has to explain to her nineteen-year-old apprentice because he’s so scared of seeing anypony that the only action he gets is in his sleep.”

“SPIKE!” Twilight yelled, finally drawing the attention of other nearby park-goers, his face flushed and furious. “Shut up about my wet dream!”

The resulting silence was deafening, Twilight at last realizing what he’d just screamed to the world as he peered about them. The other pedestrians nervously averted their eyes and hurried back to their own tasks.

“Fine, you’ve made your point,” Twilight sighed in defeat. “I know I overreact a bit sometimes... Okay, I’m a total hypochondriac about everything. But I really, really think I’m onto something here.”

Spike raised his brow all the further, but his frown lessened somewhat.

“Send Celestia this letter for me, and I promise I’ll never have you send her another ‘dire message’ ever again unless you also think it’s a dire message,” Twilight asked, placing one hand exaggeratedly on his heart. “I promise, unicorn’s honor.”

“Alright, Twilight,” Spike relented. “This is for your own good, though. Moon Dancer or not, you really need to live outside of your books every once and a while. What do you want me to tell her?”

“My dearest mentor,” Twilight dictated as Spike whipped out a quill and parchment. “In my studies, I have discovered an imminent catastrophe. Ancient tales of the eternal clash between light and dark magic may be coming to a head. I have reason to believe the mythic figure Nightmare Moon is not only real, but may strike all of Equestria with eternal night at the upcoming Summer Sun Celebration. I await your wisdom on how to best aid in preparing the nation for this coming darkness. Sincerely, your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Shorter than last time, at least,” Spike said with a small smile, rolling up the parchment and blowing it away into glowing embers on a breath of fire. “Now, can we please, please, please get some breakfast?”

“Yes, breakfast sounds good,” Twilight said, grabbing his satchel and following Spike out of the park.

They’d both walked about three or four steps before Spike lurched forward, a mighty, fiery belch unleashing itself from his tiny stomach. A return scroll materialized out of the embers, Twilight snatching it and unfurling it, his eyes practically touching the parchment as he scanned every line.

“How did she write it that fast?” Spike groaned, rubbing his still-grumbling stomach. “Now I’m going to be queasy all through breakfast. Did she have a response already written, or something?”

“My dearest student,” Twilight read aloud. “You know that I value your judgment and trust you completely. However...”

“What?” Spike asked as Twilight trailed off. “Did she tell you to stop reading those dusty old books and finally make some friends?”

“No,” Twilight said quietly, reading and rereading the note again and again, as if not believing what he was reading was real. “She agrees with me!”

“She what?!” Spike gasped.

“...Nightmare Moon is a very real threat to everything our nation holds dear,” Twilight went on, sounding giddy. “I picked you as my apprentice because I saw in you a heroic spark that I hoped would one day save Equestria from certain ruin. Hearing that you have figured out the impending catastrophe on your own, despite my best efforts to hide the truth from you, I couldn’t be more proud knowing I was correct. You have passed my most ultimate of tests without me having told you such a test existed.”

“Is this real?” Spike asked. “You’re not making this up?”

“It’s real,” Twilight said, shoving the letter into Spike’s face.

“The road ahead is hard and fraught with danger,” Spike continued where Twilight left off after confirming Twilight’s original reading. “I’d never have thrust you into harm’s way if I could help it, and I couldn’t have simply told you what to do, but the fate of Equestria is at stake, and the Elements are very particular about how they pick their hosts. Now that you have discovered the truth on your own, though, I wish you the best of luck in finding the Elements, proving your worth to them, and saving Equestria from its coming doom.

“I’m so happy you’ve chosen to press on in the face of what is to come despite fully knowing the risks and the changes ahead, having figured everything out, all on your own,” Spike went on. “Your destiny awaits, my apprentice. Venture forth to the heart of the Everfree Forest, where my most ancient castle lies in ruin. There, you shall find the Elements and Equestria’s only hope. Make haste, embrace your destiny, and save us all.”

“She believed me!” Twilight said once more, nearly bouncing up and down. “After all this time, I was right! I finally figured something out on my own! Nightmare Moon is real, and she's going to destroy everything unless I stop her. This is great!”

“Sincerely, Princess Celestia,” Spike finished. “Post Scriptum: the Elements of Harmony may not be wielded by a single mortal pony all on their own. To save Equestria, you must find and unite the bravest, most heroic souls you can find on your journey. Choose your allies and our champions wisely. They shall share your fate, and we’ll all be stuck together forever.”