Chapters “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.”
“Am I dreaming?” Spike asked. “Is this some kind of - Gah! - ironic nightmare?”
“How could this be a nightmare?” Twilight asked, one of his legs propped up onto his overnight travel pack, a hand gripping the railings of the sky-chariot, his other held above his brow as he eagerly scanned the horizon for their approaching destination. “The world might be about to end, and I was right about it! This is the greatest day of my life!”
“How can you not see how this is a - Gah! - bad thing?!” Spike asked. “And stop striking that - Gah! - ‘bold adventurer’ pose!”
“Can’t you be happy for me, that I’m right, and that now I am finally a bold adventurer?” Twilight asked, breaking from his pose for a brief moment to look back at Spike.
Spike was barely held in place next to his own travel bag by a tied sash of finest silks. Every bump of air turbulence sent him bouncing briefly into the air with a gasp of flame, only to be caught by the safety strap and yanked back to the chariot’s metal floor. Based on how Spike was cradling his stomach, Twilight feared fire might not be the only thing Spike let loose before they landed.
“I thought you were a scholar,” Spike said, managing a small smirk. “Besides, doesn’t this all seem - Gah! - a little fishy to you? Princess Celestia practically sent you a reply the moment you - Gah! - mentioned Nightmare Moon and the Elements of Harmony to her. She had the sky-chariot waiting for you when you went to ask her for transportation.”
“We have been waiting for this day for quite a while,” one of the pegasus royal guards called back from in front of the sky-chariot. “My buddy here bet me you’d never figure it out. So... Thanks for helping me win fifty bits, kid.”
“Quiet!” the other royal guard snorted. “You’re not supposed to tell him that!”
“Exactly, Princess Celestia said she was waiting for me to figure it out,” Twilight said to Spike. “See? They just confirmed it. And I did find it out, all on my own.”
“I don’t know...” Spike mumbled. “Something still doesn’t feel - Gah! - right about this.”
“Come on, Spike,” Twilight chuckled. “Where’s your spirit of adventure? I’m about to save the world, unite a new era of heroes, and make Equestrian history, and you’ll be along for the ride! Future generations will sing of our greatness, Twilight the Brilliant and Spike the... Um... Helpful Assistant!”
Twilight didn’t have to turn around to feel Spike’s half-lidded glare on the back of his mane.
“We’ll come up with a better heroic name for you later,” Twilight added. “For now, let’s ride into our destinies, a song in our hearts, our minds sharp, our courage unmatched, our -- Gah!”
Twilight was abruptly interrupted by a slurry of molten dragon vomit splashing against the back of his head.
“Sorry, Twilight the Brilliant,” Spike managed to say, his voice hoarse.
“Spike!” Twilight gasped. “That’s disgusting. And... Why is it so hot?!”
Rifling through his travel bag, Twilight pulled out a towel and dried the steaming gunk from his mane as best he could. It took him a good long while to wipe up the sticky grime, but at least the vigorous drying also allowed Twilight an excuse to use the towel to cover his ears from the guard’s laughter.
Soon thereafter, but not soon enough for Twilight’s liking, the sky-chariot touched down outside the small town bordering the Everfree Forest. Bidding the royal guards a safe and swift return to Canterlot and trying to ignore their thinly-veiled snorts and snickers, Twilight slung his bag over his shoulder and headed into town.
“Why didn’t we go straight to the Everfree Forest?” Spike asked, keeping pace as best he could and still holding his stomach, but looking significantly less queasy. “And I’m sorry about throwing up on you, okay? You know I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, Spike, and I forgive you... Please try to aim somewhere else next time, though?” Twilight sighed with a small smile. “Also, Princess Celestia said to recruit some other champions on our quest for the Elements. We need to find the noblest souls this town has to offer. What’s this town called again, Spike? Oh, right, Pony Town. Not the most scientific or heroic of names, but it has a certain rustic charm to it.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Spike said. “First of all, it’s called Ponyville. Second, you’re actually going to interact with other ponies for once? Talk to them? Engage in normal social behavior?”
“Talking to other ponies isn’t difficult, Spike, especially when the fate of Equestria is at stake,” Twilight huffed. “I usually don’t because I’m busy with my studies. I can, but I choose not to.”
“...Really?” Spike said flatly.
“Come on, Spike, I’m not an antisocial hermit,” Twilight said as they entered Ponyville’s central plaza. “Here, I’ll prove it to you.”
Twilight scanned the open air marketplace that took up most of the plaza, full of all manner of ponies. Few of them were dressed with the refined luxury of Canterlot’s upper class, most wearing common townsfolk wear. Some walked about in muddy boots, flannel, and farmer’s overalls, others still wearing aprons and chef hats over more standard clothes as they fixed up food at their market stalls for waiting customers.
One chef in particular was headed in Twilight and Spike’s general direction, skipping rather than walking, yet somehow still perfectly balancing a tray of cupcakes. A slightly hefty pink earth pony stallion, he whistled a merry tune, his voluminous fluff of a curly mane barely contained beneath his chef hat. The rest of his chef’s smock was covered in so many icing stains that it looked more like an exploded rainbow than white fabric.
“Hello,” Twilight said, waving in greeting.
The pink stallion turned his head, his cheery smile disappearing instantly as his already large blue eyes widened all the more, scanning Twilight up and down.
“My name is--” Twilight managed to say, taking a nervous step backward before the pink stallion leapt into the air higher than should of been possible for a non-pegasus pony, letting out a screech that stung Twilight’s ears to hear.
Your sanity would serve as a scrumptious sweetener on the sugary snow cone of sacrifice.
“What?!” Twilight gasped, but the pink stallion had already landed and galloped off. “What was that?”
“My point,” Spike said with a smug grin. “I’m not really sure how, but yes, that proves my point exactly.”
“No, but didn’t you hear...” Twilight began, glancing at Spike in confusion. “You know what? Never mind. There’s at least one crazy pony in ever town. There’s got to be other potential champions to recruit for our quest.”
“I can’t wait to meet them,” Spike said with a grin all the wider. “In all honesty, though, this is a good thing. It’s high time you talked to some people who aren’t me. I’m glad to be your number one assistant and all, Twilight, but there’s more to life than studying and listening to my sarcasm.”
“I could do with significantly less of the latter,” Twilight mumbled. “Fine, let’s go.”
Marching further into the thick throng of market-going ponies, with a little more stomp in his step than before, Twilight kept his eyes peeled for anypony that looked even slightly heroic. His eyes widened and his face lit up with a grin as he spotted a hulking mountain of a crimson stallion across the crowd, currently unloading barrels from a cart two at a time.
“A party of heroes always needs somepony big and strong,” Twilight said, pointing out the huge stallion to Spike. “Come on, let’s go get us a heavy, or maybe a berserker.”
“Real life does not follow fantasy game rules,” Spike mumbled, but followed anyway. “I suppose if we are going into the Everfree Forest, though, it’d help to have somepony who can hold their own.”
Finally popping out of the other side of the crowd, Twilight strode up to the towering stallion’s market stall. The stall was little more than a wooden table and a handmade sign proclaiming ‘Sweet Apple Acres! Finest Apples in Ponyville.’
“Greetings, good sir,” Twilight called to the red stallion. “I was wondering if I might interest you in a grand proposition.”
The crimson stallion set down his final load of apple barrels and turned to face them, wiping sweat from his brow. He was even more intimidating up close, wearing nothing but well-worn farmhand trousers. His torso may as well have been chiseled from rock.
“Applejack handles the business side a’things,” the red stallion said, his voice the deepest Twilight had ever heard. “If ya want ta work out a bulk order, Ah’ll call ‘im over for ya.”
“No, that’s quite alright, good sir,” Twilight started to say. “You see, my companion and I--”
“APPLEJACK!” the stallion roared over his shoulder, the sonic shockwave of his booming voice nearly shaking Twilight’s skeleton out of place. “WE GOT A BIG ORDER!”
“Ah’m a-comin’!” called a close, but not quite-as-deep voice with an equally thick accent.
A column of the wall of apple barrels the crimson stallion had unloaded rose into the air, a bright orange earth pony stallion slipping under the stack before carefully setting it all back down. He was almost, but not quite, as tall and muscular as the crimson earth pony. Whereas the red stallion wore little more than his trousers, though, the newcomer might as well have stepped out of an old sepia-tone western film, or a gunslinger’s duel at Appleoosa.
Other than possessing the physique of a rugged western gunslinger, though, he certainly dressed like an Apple Wood star playing just such a role. With a wide-brimmed stetson, a fringe-laden vest, tall boots with spurs, and enough straps, buckles, and pockets to put a duffel bag to shame, Twilight flinched as the orange stallion suddenly leaned forward, swiping something out from what looked like a holster at his hip.
“Applejack of Sweet Apple Acres, pleased ta meet ya!” the orange stallion said, thankfully only grabbing Twilight by the hand and giving him a vigorous shaking. “Big Mac says ya might be interested in a big order? That’s just grand ta hear! How many apple barrels should Ah put ya down fer?”
“No, no, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Twilight said, rubbing his sore hand when he finally freed it from Applejack's death grip to see that he’d been slipped a business card for the farm during the handshake. “You see, I was going to ask your coworker here--Big Mac, was it?--if he might be interested in a grand adventure.”
“Ah, shucks,” chuckled Applejack. “Big Mac here is mah older brother. Sweet Apple Acres is a family farm, through and through. And an adventure, ya say? What kinda adventure?”
“The most epic of adventures,” Twilight said, grinning excitedly. “In fact, why don’t you both come? You look pretty strong as well, and we'll need ponies who face deadly foes and eldritch monsters alike. The fate of Equestria may be at stake. You see, my name is Twilight Sparkle, apprentice to her royal majesty Princess Celestia, who has charged me with saving the world from the impending wrath of a vengeful manifestation darkness. I need the noblest and strongest ponies I can find to band together, brave the perils of the Everfree Forest, locate a lost magical treasure, and... What?”
Twilight stopped when he saw the look Applejack was giving him.
“...Right,” Applejack said with a bit of a nervous chuckle. “Ya wouldn’t happen ta be one of Pinkie Pie’s friends, would ya?”
“Who?” Twilight asked.
“Pink chef guy?” Applejack elaborated. “Kinda chubby? Heart of gold? Oddly spooky?”
“Spooky?” Spike echoed.
“We ran into a pony like that on the way over here, but no, I am not acquainted with this ‘Pinkie Guy’,” Twilight said. “Now, about that impending doom and glorious destiny I’m offering you and your brother--”
“Pinkie Pie ,” Applejack corrected. “Thank ya kindly for the offer, but we’ll have ta pass. Got a full day ahead of us sellin’ apples for the farm. Thanks for stoppin’ by, though!”
“...You heard me when I said the fate of Equestria may be at stake, right?” Twilight asked.
“Yup,” said Big Mac.
“...But you don’t believe me,” Twilight sighed.
“Nope,” Big Mac said.
“To be perfectly honest, ya sound right plum crazier than a jackrabbit juking it out with a jellyfish in July,” Applejack added. “No offense.”
“What?” Twilight and Spike both asked in unison.
“Here, take an apple fer the road,” Applejack said with a bit of a crooked smile, though not unkindly. “On the house. Good luck with yer adventure and your mental health!”
He tossed a ripe red apple to Twilight, who caught it, thanked them both for their time, and stormed back into the crowd.
“I don’t believe this,” Twilight groaned to Spike, collapsing onto a park bench in the midst of the plaza. “They're not taking me seriously!"
“I thought you’d be used to that by now,” Spike said. “Princess Celestia did say you had to figure things out on your own, and that she couldn’t just tell you. I guess you’ll have to convince people to join you on your own, too. Good thing you know how to talk to ponies and all like you said, right?”
“That’s only two ponies to turn us down,” Twilight said. “We can’t give up yet. I just need to work on how I phrase it. Surely there’s other ponies who would be honored to join a noble cause.”
“You’re starting to sound like one of Celestia’s charity drive speeches,” Spike chuckled. “But fair enough. Who else looks hero-ish?”
“Maybe we should shelve strength for now,” Twilight thought aloud. “A party also needs a rogue, or a thief, or an archer, someone with speed and agility, and perhaps a bit of roguish charm.”
“Real life still doesn’t follow fantasy game rules,” Spike said. “But why not get both speed and strength?”
“Who could possibly have both?” Twilight asked, following Spike’s finger to a massive mountain of muscle that put Big Mac and Applejack to shame several times over.
A short ways away from them both hovered a colossal pegasus stallion, covered in a thin white coat barely constraining muscles upon muscles upon muscles. His wings were positively puny compared to the rest of him and would have been small even for a more average-sized pegasus, but they flapped hard and kept him aloft all the same. He was currently facing away from them, flexing and moving in an animated fashion, as if talking to somepony they couldn’t see.
“Spike, you’re a genius,” Twilight said with a grin, hopping up and rushing over to the humongous stallion.
“Of course I can fly, see?!” the white stallion bellowed at whomever he was talking to. “But who needs wing power when you have firepower like this? I can fly by punching down the air if I want. I can punch the 'flying' itself so hard that nopony else can fly. If I move my fist fast enough, I could punch through the sound barrier!”
“Yeah, real impressive, pal,” spoke a scratchy voice from the other side of the stallion. “But take it from somepony who’s gone all the way through the sound barrier--speed beats brawn every time.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Twilight greeted, only to fall backwards to the ground as the huge stallion whirled around on him.
“Can’t you see I’m talking up this hot chick?!” the stallion roared. “But hey, you’re a pretty hot chick yourself. Don’t worry, ladies, there’s enough of Bulk Biceps for everypony.”
“What?!” Twilight gasped, standing back up and dusting himself off. “Sir, I assure you, I am not a lady.”
“You’re scrawny like one,” said the stallion, supposedly Bulk Biceps.
“First of all, not all ladies are scrawny,” Twilight said. “Secondly, I’m not that scrawny. Thirdly, I’m here to offer you the proposition of a lifetime. You see--”
“A proposition?!” Bulk bellowed, a huge grin splitting his face. “Two chicks in one day?! At the same time?! Bulk likes that idea!”
“I’m not a chick, either,” said that same scratchy voice. “Is that what was happening here? You were trying to hit on me? I thought we were arguing over who was the tougher pegasus.”
Out from the other side of the mountain of muscle that was Bulk Biceps stepped a diminutive, sky-blue pegasus stallion, at least a head and a half shorter than Twilight. Bulk looked easily twice the blue pegasus’ height, and yet the blue pegasus looked more annoyed at the larger pony than anything.
Nevertheless, Twilight saw a bit of why Bulk may have confused the blue pegasus for a mare, at least at first glance. His rainbow-hued mane and tail were a bit longer than those of most stallions, and though his physique was toned and athletic, he was also undeniably small, and not just in height. What he lacked in the size of his body, though, he made up for in feathers, possessing perhaps the largest wings Twilight had seen compared to the pony to which they were attached. That, combined with the tight jeans, plain gray hoodie, and total lack of any other ornamentation, made it look like the pegasus was a combination of extremes attempting to cancel each other out.
“Of course you’re both chicks,” Bulk said with a roll of his eyes, as if explaining something to someone struggling to grasp the most basic of concepts. “You’re both scrawny, you don’t look manly, and you’re talking to me. That must mean you’re chicks!”
“I have a beard!” Twilight said with a scowl. “Okay, it’s not very big, but I work hard on styling this every morning.”
“Don’t look manly?!” the blue pegasus echoed with an equally dour scowl. “I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be. You may have muscles for brains, but I have the skills, the finesse. I could fly faster than you could punch any day.”
“Prove it,” Bulk Biceps dared, balling his hand into a fist. “I’ll feed this purple chick--guy--whatever--a knuckle sandwich before you can flap your wings!”
“You’re on!” the blue pegasus retorted.
“I do not consent to this!” Twilight yelped, shutting his eyes tight as he saw Bulk’s fist racing towards him, not having enough time to duck, to put up his own hands in defense, or to try sparking up his aching horn.
“Ha!” laughed the scratchy voice of the blue pegasus. “Told you I was faster!”
“This proves nothing!” shouted Bulk Biceps, though faintly, as if he was suddenly far away.
Risking a peek, Twilight opened his eyes to see that had somehow been transported to the other side of the plaza. The blue pegasus released his grip on Twilight’s arms, his touch so light Twilight hadn't noticed it was there.
“Wait, what?” Twilight asked. “What just happened?”
“I saved your life,” the blue pegasus said with a smug grin. “No need to thank me. I’m Rainbow Dash, by the way. Thanks for helping me prove speed beats brawn to muscles-for-brains back there.”
“You’re welcome,” Twilight said, looking from across the plaza to where they both now stood, back again, then again, and again once more. “That was almost instantaneous. How fast are you?”
“The fastest there is,” Rainbow Dash said, clearly enjoying Twilight’s incredulity. “Anyways, it was nice meeting you, but I better grab some cider before Applejack runs out. I’ll see you around, I hope?”
“Yes, actually,” Twilight said, daring to hope he may have found his first stroke of good luck in this quest. “I’m looking for a few brave souls to, uh, help me find a treasure in the heart of the Everfree Forest. We’d split the findings evenly amongst us. Might you be interested?”
“Sure, that sounds awesome,” Rainbow Dash said without a second thought. “Hey, why don’t you grab my pal Pinkie Pie? He’s always up for a good adventure, and he works in Sugarcube Corner, right over there. I’ll swing by in a bit with cider for all of us.”
“Perfect,” Twilight said as Rainbow took wing and zoomed off. “Maybe this won’t be so hard after all. But, he said Pinkie Pie... That weird guy?”
“Twilight!” Spike’s voice called from the crowd, and a moment later, Spike himself plopped out from the throng of ponies, looking rather out of breath. “Don’t leave me behind like that! That bulky guy tried to sell me a bunch of ‘muscle-enhancing herbal supplements.' Freaked me out.”
“He tried to pound me into dust,” Twilight chuckled. “I’d say you got the better deal. Even better, though, I just recruited our first hero!”
“You did?” Spike asked. “This day is just one surprise after another, isn’t it?”
“Speaking of which, he asked me to ask his friend to join us,” Twilight added, heading towards the building Rainbow Dash had pointed out, Spike hurrying to keep up. “I’ll admit I’m less certain about whoever this ‘Pinkie Pie’ fellow is.”
“The spooky chef?” Spike asked as they entered the building marked ‘Sugarcube Corner,’ a large bakery, the door closing shut behind them.
Before Twilight could reply, the room went dark. All windows shut at once, seemingly of their own accord. An ominous chorus of whispers erupted from the darkness. The sweet smells of the bakery mixed with another, far more foul odor.
Welcome to the infernal furnace of fudge and frosting and faceless feral forms forever feasting.
“Twilight, I want to go home,” Spike whispered.
“Twilight?” asked a new, chipper voice, sounding as if they spoke directly in Twilight’s ear.
Twilight screamed, and all at once, the lights came back on. The pink stallion, Pinkie Pie, stood before them both, holding a cake on a tray.
“You’re here early,” Pinkie Pie said with a friendly smile. “I wasn’t expecting you both until later, but it’s nice to see you again. Your welcome cake isn’t ready just yet.”
Twilight and Spike simply stared at Pinkie, the breaths feeling frozen in their throats.
“What?” Pinkie chuckled. “Is it the red on my apron? It’s icing, I promise.”
“What was all of that with the darkness and the creepy voices?!” Spike gasped.
“The what now?” Pinkie asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Right, yes, we’ll check back in later, sorry to bother you,” Twilight said in a rush, grabbing Spike and heading quickly for the door.
“Good luck!” Pinkie called after them. “I’ll see you when you’ve gathered the others. Hopefully your welcome cake will be ready by then.”
“Twilight, he made you into a cake!” Spike hissed.
“Later, Spike,” Twilight gulped, but couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder as he hurried Spike and himself out the door.
Pinkie Pie had indeed made him into a cake, it seemed. The tray Pinkie held bore an almost perfect recreation of Twilight in pastry form, from the shade of lavender in his coat to the simple traveling clothes he was wearing. The only inconsistency, oddly enough, was that Pinkie seemed to have shoved two cupcakes into what would have been Twilight’s upper torso.
With Spike in tow, Twilight dashed out of Sugarcube Corner and slammed right into a flash of offwhite ivory and deepest indigo. Knocked back to the ground and taking Spike down with him, Twilight gasped as his hands flew to his horn. A jarring shudder shot through him from its tip, the odd spark or two sizzling into the air in angry reds and yellows.
“I’m so sorry!” Twilight managed to blurt between bouts of gritting his teeth as more jabs of bone-rattling agony jolted from his horn. “Are you alright?”
“Am I alright?” replied a smooth bass of a voice, filtered through an oddly familiar tone, though Twilight couldn’t quite place it, like a puzzle piece that should have fit but was just the slightest bit off. “You’ve committed upon me the gravest of offenses, the most heinous of crimes, the worst possible thing you could have done. How could I be alright?!”
“Uh...” Twilight said, still gently massaging the base of his horn as he picked himself up off the floor. “I’m sorry I ran into you, sir, but I’d hardly call a simple accident a ‘heinous crime’.”
Looking down at the other pony he’d inadvertently knocked to the ground, Twilight saw a statuesque stallion wearing an immaculately tailored and well-pressed suit that would have looked posh even on Canterlot’s upper crust. Their collision had caused the other stallion’s solid gold pocket watch to pop out of his pocket and disheveled the rose tucked into his lapel, not to mention knocked off his top hat.
Nevertheless, he didn’t look to be in pain as Twilight had. Even though he also looked to be a unicorn, and Twilight guessed their horns crashing had caused the sudden return of his horn-ache, the other unicorn didn’t so much as check his own horn for possible damage.
“You’ve committed murder!” the other stallion snarled, glaring up at Twilight so intensely that his narrowed brow sent a crack through his monocle.
“Murder?” Twilight echoed. “What are you talking about?”
“My suit!” the other unicorn said, as if it should have been obvious. “You’ve ruined it. There’s dirt everywhere!”
“Your suit isn’t a person,” Twilight noted. “Also, there’s just a tiny smudge of dirt in a few places. Nothing a simple wash wouldn’t clean.”
The other unicorn remained silent, his snarl intensifying to the point that his monocle shattered.
Twilight warily backed up.
“Spike?” Twilight said at last. “Help me out, here.”
When Spike also didn’t reply, Twilight glanced back to see Spike staring wide-eyed at the other unicorn.
“Uh, Spike?” Twilight asked, waving a hand in front of Spike’s face, prompting no response other than a mumbled whisper. “What was that?”
“He’s so cool!” Spike suddenly cheered, rushing up to the other unicorn, walking around him, taking him in from all sides. “He’s like a real-life secret agent!”
“If he was a secret agent, he wouldn’t look like a secret agent,” Twilight pointed out.
“I know!” Spike said. “But he looks so cool he might be one anyway.”
“I’m glad to see that at least one soul around here appreciates the gravity of personal appearance,” the other unicorn said, his scowl softening at last as he gave a small smile to Spike. “Sir Rarity the Third, at your service.”
“Spike the dragon,” Spike said, offering Rarity a hand and doing his best to help the unicorn up. “Number one assistant to Twilight Sparkle.”
“You’ve been knighted?” Twilight asked, sounding doubtful. “I don’t recall seeing the name ‘Rarity’ in the royal registry of honored citizens.”
“A simple formality, and one that shall soon be...” Rarity began before trailing off, taking a second look at Twilight. “Did you say ‘Twilight Sparkle?’ As in, apprentice to Princess Celestia?”
“Yes,” Twilight said, extending his hand with a sheepish smile. “I wish we could have had a smoother first meeting, but it’s nice to make your acquaintance. Speaking of which... Uh, what are you doing?”
Rarity had knelt onto one knee, lowering his head in a manner Twilight had only ever seen ponies enact during knighting ceremonies.
“Think nothing of it, Your Grace,” Rarity said, putting an extra oomph into that almost-familiar tone of his, something Twilight realized was an imitation of a Canterlot accent. “In fact, I must thank you for bestowing upon me the gift of your mere presence, let alone physical contact.”
“Uh...” Twilight uttered. “You’re welcome?”
“I also simply must apologize for the monstrous way I acted towards you over the simplest of trifles; t’was nothing but a bit of dirt on the suit I crafted myself over countless hours of skill and toil,” Rarity went on. “To make things I right, I hereby pledge my undying loyalty to you, Prince Twilight Sparkle of the House of the Sun.”
“Whoa!” Twilight gasped. “Thanks for letting bygones be bygones, but there’s really no need for that. I’m not even a prince, I’m just Celestia’s student.”
“Close enough,” Rarity said, standing with a smile and donning his tophat, making him tower over Twilight all the more. “From this day forward, I shall act as your personal knight in all endeavors.”
Twilight was silent for another moment.
“Are you trying to butter me up in the hopes that I’ll put in a good word to Celestia for you?” Twilight asked. “Is this so you can become a ‘real’ knight?”
“Where in Equestria would you get that idea?” Rarity asked nervously. “Perish the thought. May any eventual knighthoods I receive be purely the result of my having earned them, defending you from harm, protecting your honor, ensuring your--”
“No, thanks,” Twilight said. “Come on, Spike.”
“Wait!” Spike and Rarity both blurted at once.
“I can help you!” Rarity said. “Whatever it is, I can do it!”
“He’s so cool!” Spike added. “And you still need noble heroes for your quest, right?”
“Spike!” Twilight snapped, but it was too late. Already, Rarity’s eyes lit up as his sculpted smile turned upwards in a most meticulously devious way.
“A quest?” Rarity said. “Of course! Why else would Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia send her beloved apprentice beyond the refined defenses of Canterlot if not on a most epic journey? I can aid you in your quest, Prince Twilight. You’ll find no nobler, no more self-sacrificing, no more fashionable soul in all the land.”
“...Fine,” Twilight grumbled at last. “But you better be ready for a real quest. The fate of Equestria depends on it.”
“The fate of what depends on what, now?” asked a scratchy, androgynous voice.
Twilight winced as he looked up to see Rainbow Dash coasting in to land next to them, holding a case of apple cider emblazoned with the Sweet Apple Acres logo.
Slightly behind Rainbow Dash, another pegasus landed, a toned, creamy-yellow stallion with a bright pink mane and tail. Like Rainbow, his mane and tail were unusually long for a stallion, but to a much greater degree. Although he was nowhere near as muscled as Applejack or Big Mac had been, his strong features combined with his silky mane and tail created quite a striking image. If it weren’t for his slumped shoulders, the way he avoided direct eye contact, and the enormously oversized leafy green sweater and worn jeans, he may well have looked like a model.
“Hello again, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight greeted. “Nothing important, just sorting out a few basic details with the newest pony interested in that, er, forest excursion I told you about.”
“The treasure hunt?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Speaking of, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my old pal Fluttershy here along. He knows the Everfree Forest better than anypony. Also, have you asked Pinkie Pie?”
“Treasure hunt?” Rarity echoed.
“I think we may have to ask Pinkie Pie to sit this one out,” Twilight said a bit too loudly. “We went in to discuss the matter with him, and, well... He seems to be busy with his baking.”
“Pinkie Pie is baking?!” Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Fluttershy all gasped in unison.
“Welcome to Ponyville!” shouted an already familiar cheery voice from behind Twilight as what felt like a literal explosion of confetti rocketed him forward. “Your welcome cake is finally ready!”
Twilight stumbled enough to keep his balance and turned to see that the front of Sugarcube Corner had blown open, buckets and buckets worth of confetti fluttering down through the air. Pinkie Pie stood in the epicenter of the colorful burst, proudly holding a cake on a tray. Oddly enough, although the shade of lavender in the icing and a few other key elements looked the same as they had when Twilight first saw the cake, the rest was most definitely very, very different.
The cupcakes that had been shoved into what would have been Twilight’s upper torso were gone, as if they had never been there. Truth be told, it was probably a different cake. Though the pony presented in icing and pastry looked very much like Twilight, it was unmistakably a mare, as if Twilight had had a twin sister. The not-quite-Twilight was also nude.
“Your destiny awaits, Twilight Sparkle!” Pinkie Pie said with a beaming smile. “Your doom shall be a delicious dessert for the dreadfully devolved darkness.”
“First, please tell me you all heard him say that last part,” Twilight said, clutching his chest as he tried to stop his rapid heartbeat from sending him into a fit of hypervillation. “Second, what the ever-loving silver strands of Starswirl the Bearded’s beard was that?”
“Pinkie Pie,” Rainbow Dash said cautiously, carefully setting down his case of apple cider and slowly approaching Pinkie with his hands raised and ready. “Have you been baking again?”
“Just a little,” Pinkie Pie said with a sheepish smile. “Not much. Not enough to let in the taste out of space.”
“You know that’s not how it works, Pinkie old chum,” Rarity said, placing himself between Pinkie and Twilight. “You’re not supposed to bake anything, just help with what Mister and Misses Cake make.”
“I know, but where’s the fun in that?” Pinkie said with a small frown. “Baking is my passion. I love it! Can’t I just do a little now and then? It’s not like I’m friends with the Faceless Flavors or anything. I’d never let them into my recipes on purpose!”
“We know you don’t mean any harm, Pinkie,” Fluttershy spoke, his voice quiet, yet comforting. “But remember what happened last time. Remember the goats, and Mayor Mare’s leg, and the thing locked in the basement.”
“...Fine,” Pinkie Pie relented at last.
Taking out a book of matches, Pinkie set Twilight’s oddly female welcome cake onto the ground and lit it on fire. The icing, the cake, and even the tray went up in flames, dissolving into thick, noxious, dark fumes that formed, deformed, and reformed into what looked like agonized faces as they wafted up and away, fading in the sunlight and on the breeze. If Twilight concentrated, he could have sworn he heard faint screams.
Everypony else present let loose a sigh of relief.
“What...?” Twilight uttered blankly.
“It’s a long story,” Pinkie Pie said with another small smile. “After the ‘big thing’ happens, I’ll tell you about it sometime. For now, let’s just say that I made a mistake a long time ago, and it’s haunted me ever since. When you make a silly face at the void, the void makes a silly face back.”
“Rarity aside,” Spike whispered to Twilight. “Are you sure these are the ‘noblest, most heroic’ souls Ponyville has to offer?”
“Rarity included,” Twilight whispered back. “Beggers can’t be choosers.”
All at once, a dull dusk fell across those assembled. Looking up, Twilight saw what should have been the bright glare of the midmorning sun dim all across the town plaza. Ponies looked up from their chatter and market vending in confusion. A tense hush fell across the crowd as, one by one, everypony’s gaze shifted in one direction, each shielding their eyes.
Following their gaze, Twilight and the others looked up as well to see a smaller dark disc creeping its way into the path of the sun. The dark disc cut off a small chunk of luminance, as if taking a bite out of the sun itself.
“Is that the moon?” Spike asked.
“It’s starting already,” Twilight gulped. “We need to hurry.”
“Gah!” Twilight gasped, hastily disentangling himself from Nightmare Moon and rushing backwards to the relative safety of his newfound companions. Nightmare Moon herself didn’t so much get up as melt, all of the scant coloration of her form dissolving into liquid night, only to bubble up and reshape itself to present her in a standing position.
“Were you not impressed by our divine beauty?” Nightmare Moon asked with a wry smile, her darker-than-dark eyes boring into Twilight’s own. “We were most surprised you dared touch us at all. Many would die for such a privilege, and many have.”
Twilight felt a lump rising in his throat, and he swallowed it uncomfortably, but said nothing. A nervous glance at his friends revealed their own tense wariness, but nopony dared speak.
“Have you nothing to say to us?” Nightmare Moon asked, her wry smile widening into a sinister grin.
“What do you mean, to ‘us’?” asked Pinkie Pie.
For a fraction of a moment, Nightmare Moon’s sinister smile faltered.
“I think she’s using the ‘royal we’,” Twilight explained. “It’s an old tradition amongst queens, kings, and other monarchs. Celestia used it herself until a few centuries ago, when language language had evolved beyond its convention.”
Nightmare Moon’s grin dropped back to a wry smile, though this time somewhat strained.
“Historical linguistics lesson later,” Spike pleaded. “Dealing with evil demigoddess now.”
Nightmare Moon tried to reacquire her look of malicious glee, but the moment looked to be lost.
“She wasn’t using the ‘royal we’ earlier,” Rarity pointed out.
Nightmare Moon frowned.
“Sounds like a bunch of malarkey, if ya ask me,” Applejack added. “All them hoity-toity city folk, talkin’ like they’re better than the hard workin’ common ponies that run this kingdom.”
Nightmare Moon snarled.
“Princess Celestia is a butterfly?!” Pinkie gasped.
“Enough!” Nightmare Moon thundered, quite literally, as dark clouds materialized in the air over the Everfree, thunderbolts of unnatural cobalt singing the air. “I am Equestria’s doom, and I demand to be treated with the proper fear and respect such a threat deserves!”
“But you said ‘I’ again, so which is it?” Pinkie Pie asked. “Is it ‘you’ or ‘me’ or ‘I’ or ‘we’ or ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ or... Holy cow!”
A massive thunderbolt struck directly where Nightmare Moon had been standing, leaving only a roiling plume of umbral smoke. Sparks flared and popped like dying stars in miniature, and this time Twilight was certain he could hear screaming voices in the crackle of the fiery vapor.
“Our sister is more of a fool than we had thought if she chose you lot as her champions,” Nightmare Moon’s voice faded on the wind of the dissipating smoke. “We should destroy you all here and now to spare you another moment of your wretched existence. However, we have a more fitting punishment in mind for your insolence. We shall destroy that which you seek before you may claim it, so that you may bear witness to Equestria’s fall from your failure. Only then, when you have tasted the bitter sting of your own weakness, shall I grant you the mercy of death.”
The rest of the smoke billowed away on the chill wind, taking an echoing chorus of angry laughter with it.
“I had been wondering why she didn’t just blow us all up with spooky dark magic right away,” Pinkie Pie said after the group had caught their breath. “I guess that does answer my other question, too, though; why she didn’t just destroy the whatever-it-is we’re searching for to use against her the moment she came back from the moon. What is it we’re searching for, anyway, Twilight? You haven’t told us yet other than ‘lost magic treasure’.”
“Yeah, what exactly is this magic treasure, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I’m all for saving Equestria, but it would be nice if this ‘treasure’ was also still a treasure , if you catch my drift.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of all the toys and treats I’ll be able to buy for my animal friends with my share,” Fluttershy added quietly. “Uh... Twilight...?”
Twilight had fallen to his knees, his eyes wide, staring blankly ahead.
“Twilight, buddy?” Spike asked. “You okay?”
“I was finally right,” Twilight whispered.
“What was that, Twi?” Spike ventured further, giving Twilight an affectionate yet wary pat on the shoulder. “You’re scaring us.”
“I was finally right!” Twilight shouted, his fists clenching and unclenching, the blank look in his eyes turning wild and fiery. “I sent Princess Celestia six hundred letters about a magical catastrophe about to befall Equestria. Six hundred! The one time I’m right, that I actually have a chance to save Equestria, to do something, to matter, to prove to Celestia and everypony else that I’m not crazy, I get so excited about saving the day that I overlook the simplest of details.”
“That Nightmare Moon could go right to the treasure immediately and destroy it?” Pinkie Pie asked.
“Yes!” Twilight choked. “Equestria, the world, my dream of not being crazy... They’re all doomed!”
“Prince Twilight, you’re giving up?” Rarity asked. “Just like that?”
“I’m not a prince!” Twilight spat.
“I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re not a quitter,” Rainbow Dash said. “Sure, you’ve been a little weird since we met. Okay, you’ve been really weird, but the idea of this adventure has been the most fun thing I’ve done in ages. Besides that, Equestria is depending on us, and that means we can’t give up no matter what!”
“If mah granny had given up on concoctin’ the best apple cider in town after just the first few hundred failed batches, we’d have nothin’ but a useless apple farm and a few hundred bowls of stinky mush,” Applejack added. “But she stuck it out, made the best durn recipe ever, and now we’re the biggest apple cider suppliers this side of Canterlot.”
“It doesn’t matter if we give up,” Twilight said sourly. “Nightmare Moon is probably there right now. Maybe she already destroyed the treasure. They’re the Elements of Harmony, by the way, not that it matters anymore.”
“Elements of Harmony...” Pinkie Pie thought aloud, stroking his chin. “...That sounds familiar.”
“I could ask the animals of the forest to help us get there faster,” Fluttershy suggested. “Maybe Nightmare Moon didn’t find these Elements yet, and we still have time?”
“She can teleport, she’s got alicorn magic, and the Elements were hidden away in her older sister’s old castle,” Twilight huffed, sitting back, crossing his arms across his legs, and burying his face in them. “If I actually knew the teleport spell well enough not to get stuck in a wall each time I used it, and didn't have such a horn-ache from practicing, maybe I could have gotten there just in time as well.”
“You’re really giving up?” Spike asked. “I had expected more from you, Twilight.”
“Go away, Spike,” Twilight sighed. “All of you, go away. Please.”
The others exchanged uncertain looks. Spike, meanwhile, merely rolled his eyes.
“Okay,” Spike said simply. “I guess Equestria is doomed, then. All thanks to you, Twilight.”
“...What?” Twilight said, daring to peek up.
“You said it yourself,” Spike said with an exaggerated shrug. “Nightmare Moon probably already found the Elements and destroyed them. I’m sure Princess Celestia will be so disappointed in you.”
“What?!” Twilight gasped. “Spike...”
“I guess you really are just a crazy unicorn after all,” Spike said, turning his back to Twilight and crossing his arms, hanging his head.
At least, that’s the impression Twilight could see from behind. Spike glanced up the slightest bit, saw that the rest of the group was watching him with equal parts surprise and suspicion, and gave them all a wink.
“Three...” Spike mouthed, but did not speak aloud. “Two... One...”
“I’m not crazy,” Twilight said quietly, fire returning to his eyes, one of which gave a sudden twitch. “I’m NOT crazy. I saw what nopony else was willing to see. I found what nopony else could find. I’ll show you. I’ll show them. I’ll show them all. I’m not crazy! EVERYPONY ELSE IS CRAZY!
“We’re all going to be heroes and save Equestria whether you believe in me or not, Spike!” Twilight declared, scrambling to his feet. “Come on, everypony. Let’s go stop Nightmare Moon!”
“I knew you had it in you, Twilight,” Spike said with a wide, toothy grin. “So, which way to the Elements of Harmony? Uh, Twilight? What are you doing?”
One of his eyes still twitching spasmodically, both eyes glowing fiercely, and breathing haggardly, Twilight cast a dim yet brightening glow from the tip of his horn.
“There’s only one way to get us there fast enough,” Twilight said through gritted teeth, a low, uncomfortable chortle rising in his throat. “I can do it! I know the spell! I have the magic! Goddesses above, this hurts like Tartarus!”
“Twilight, no!” Spike gasped, but it was too late.
A blinding flash erupted from Twilight’s horn, enveloping them all.
. . .
There was nothing.
Nothing but more nothing, and then some nothing, and more nothing after that. An infinity of naught, an eternity without time, a void without space, a canvas without paint, a story without ink, unwritten, undreamt, and forgotten before it was even created.
Then, with a blinding brilliance that hurt like the sun rising in his face, Twilight fell out of nonexistence and back into the all-too-real agony of reality. Tumbling several times with the gloriously aching body he had suddenly reacquired after briefly passing through that horrible oblivion between teleports, Twilight finally came to rest against the base of a gnarled old tree with a facefull of dirt, crumpled leaves, and what felt like a large rock wedged inside his mouth.
“...Mmm?” Twilight called out, although the decaying detritus of the forest floor proved quite muffling.
“Twilight!” Spike’s voice called out in turn, as if he had somehow understood Twilight all the same. “Are you there? Are you hurt? Are you insane?!”
Twilight gasped and spat out his mouthful of dirt, leaves, and the lone stone as Spike’s surprisingly strong hand bopped him across the top of his head. Shaking said head to clear the after-image of dancing spots, Twilight stood up and brushed himself off, his dizziness slowly subsiding and the dreary darkness of the Everfree Forest coming into focus all around him. Spike was looking up at him with a mixture of worried terror and furious consternation.
Twilight opened his mouth to speak, only for Spike to shout “What were you thinking?! You could have teleported us all inside a tree, or left parts of our bodies behind, or gotten us all lost in transit forever!”
“I’m sorry, Spike,” Twilight said with a giddy grin. “It was the only way to reach the castle in time. But we made it! I finally performed a proper teleport spell, the biggest one anypony outside of Celestia herself has made in centuries!”
Spike’s draconic brow furrowed, then just kept on furrowing, lowering so darkly and heavily across his slitted eyes that they threatened to close entirely.
“Pop quiz, Twilight,” Spike hissed through gritted teeth.
“Spike, I hardly think this is the time for--” Twilight began.
“Question one,” Spike interrupted. “Does it look like we teleported to an ancient castle?”
Twilight was about to retort that of course they had, only to falter, look around at the seemingly endless expanse of gnarled, towering trees and darkened underbrush all about them, and finally admit with a defeated squeak, “No.”
“Question two,” Spike went on. “Do you see any of the rest of the ‘brave and noble heroes’ you asked to join us?”
Twilight didn’t have to answer; his pained expression spoke for him.
“That’s what I thought,” Spike said. “Question three. Where are they?”
“...Uh...” Twilight managed to utter, although he found it hard to say more. “...They’re back where we last left them... Probably. Maybe I was only able to teleport the two of us?”
“Probably?” Spike echoed, one of his brows rising while the other remained firmly lowered. “And if you’re wrong?”
“Then... Uh... Well, you see...” Twilight stammered as Spike’s lone skeptical eyebrow rose higher, then higher, and higher still, threatening to float right off his face. “They may have teleported randomly, and be scattered across the Everfree Forest like we were. Or... Parts of them may have been. Or they never reappeared.”
“Final question,” Spike said. “Can you find them?”
“I should be able to,” Twilight said with a small smile. “Tracking magic is easy enough, so I just have to cast a spell to lead us to traces of my own spell-signature wherever they reappeared... Hopefully.”
There was a tense silence for a moment, Spike staring expectantly at Twilight, Twilight standing still and doing nothing.
“...Well?” Spike asked at last. “Why aren’t you casting the spell?”
“I thought I was casting the spell,” Twilight said as his face fell and his eyes widened. “No, don’t tell me I burnt out again!”
Twilight’s hands flew to his horn, feeling no breaks, no cracks, and most surprisingly of all, no aches or pains, even after such a tremendous expenditure of magic.
“And now we have to wait for you to recharge,” Spike grumbled. “Just great!”
“No...” Twilight uttered in a voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think that’ll work.”
“Why not?” Spike asked.
“My horn doesn’t even hurt,” Twilight said. “It hurt like crazy all day after I tried to teleport last, and that was just me moving from my bedroom to being stuck in the wall between my bedroom and the next room over.”
“...So?” Spike huffed, not following.
“I think I broke it,” Twilight said, his voice wavering. “My magic. My horn. All of it. I think I burnt out for good.”
Spike’s gaze softened, but only for a moment, before hardening more fiercely than ever.
Spike stared at Twilight for a good long while.
Twilight tried his best to return the stare with an earnest, hopeful grin against what felt like a horrendous weight crushing down on his shoulders.
Spike’s stare intensified.
Twilight’s grin wavered. He felt a cold sweat break out across his coat.
Spike’s stare could have stopped a stampeding royal guardsman.
Twilight swallowed uncomfortably, his breath catching in his throat.
Empires had crumbled to dust under less pressure than that which currently flowed from Spike’s stare. The tides of war, famine, plague, and death itself held nothing to the infinite displeasure of this one, tiny dragon.
“Okay I’m sorry I was stupid and I messed up big time!” Twilight finally blurted in a mad rush, taking a deep breath at last. “I may have cost myself my magic and killed our new friends and doomed all of Equestria. Stop staring at me like that! You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Your heart isn’t going to get a chance to attack you before I do,” grumbled a scratchy, androgynous voice as a blur of azure feathers and polychromatic hair dashed out of the underbrush and tackled into Twilight, knocking him to the ground, Rainbow Dash pinning him down with surprising strength for such a slight, short stallion. “What did you do?! Where’s Fluttershy? Where’s everypony else? Where the Tartarus are we?!”
“Can’t... Answer...” Twilight wheezed.
“Why?” Rainbow Dash demanded, giving Twilight a rough shake.
“Can’t... Breathe...” Twilight sputtered.
Rainbow let up on Twilight, but not by much.
“I’m good at magic, but teleportation is a really advanced spell,” Twilight said. “I thought it would be the only way to get us all there fast enough, but it looks like I failed.”
“You could have killed us all, then?” Rainbow asked.
“He may have killed us all anyway,” Spike mumbled.
“I could have,” Twilight sighed, but his gaze hardened. “But I had to try. I had to do something. Would you rather we have walked to the center of the Everfree Forest, only to arrive long after Nightmare Moon destroyed the Elements? I know it was risky, but you said it yourself, Rainbow. We can’t give up, no matter what. I put everything I had into that spell to try and save Equestria. Yes, to prove to myself that I could do it, that I could matter enough to be the one to save the day, but also to really, genuinely save everypony we know and love from Nightmare Moon. If I could try again, I would, even if it meant it would be the last spell I ever cast. Even if I knew I’d lose all my magic to save Equestria, if there was even the slimmest chance that it would work and I had no other options, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Spike’s gaze softened, and he looked away.
“You’re right, Twilight,” Spike sighed. “There was no real option, I guess. I’m sorry I yelled at you... And I’m sorry about your magic.”
“It’s okay, Spike,” Twilight said with another small smile. “I’d probably have yelled at me too if I were in your position.”
“...Fine,” Rainbow Dash relented at last, getting up off of Twilight and helping him up. “I’m sorry, too. But we should hurry. Maybe there’s still time.”
“We can’t give up no matter what, right?” Twilight said.
“No matter what,” Rainbow agreed.
“There’s only one other problem,” Spike said. “Which way are the castle ruins from here?”
Before Twilight could attempt an answer, the three of them spun around at the sound of something rustling in the underbrush. Something was stirring in the pile of dirt and leaves at the base of the old tree where Twilight had reappeared, the grime finally parting as the lone rock that had wedged itself in Twilight’s mouth rolled free. It continued to roll, somehow propelling itself past Rainbow and Spike before coming to rest at Twilight’s hooves.
You have passed the trial of the mystic with grace and sacrifice , whispered a voice in Twilight’s mind, causing him to flinch as the stone rose from the ground, floating before him. Fear not, Twilight Sparkle, for hope yet remains. The sun has yet to fully set. The moon has yet to reach its zenith. Whether one shall reign supreme or they both shall share the skies in the true balance of harmony shall be yours to decide.
Cracks appeared in the rock, a bright, violet luminance shining from within. The light grew brighter until whatever lay inside shattered through its stone skin, revealing a gem glowing so brightly it hurt to look at.
Your companions shall be tested in their own way, the voice continued in Twilight’s mind. We have taken it upon ourselves to give your world a chance to save itself. Neither defeat nor victory are certain. You, however, have been chosen as the anchor point through which victory may be achieved.
Congratulations, Twilight Sparkle, the voice finished as the gem flew towards Twilight. You are now the host of the Element of Magic. First, however, a few adjustments are in order...
Author's Note
Thank you all for your patience. Also, I wanted to start this chapter with a bit of a warning. This is the first chapter that truly warrants the 'Big Red M' of the mature rating. It's a bit out of left field compared to the mostly lighthearted comedic antics of what came before, but I wasn't really sure how to incorporate the truly 'saucy' elements of this tale until now. I hope that what I have here doesn't disappoint, but please know that I'm writing this tale largely to figure out how to write stories of a more erotic nature. I may stumble and fall a few times, but that's always the cost of improvement, and I hope to deliver higher quality content moving forward.
Thank you all again for reading!
Chapter Six
“Adjustments?” Twilight echoed as the glowing gemstone flew towards him with growing speed. “What do you mean by--”
The gemstone smacked against Twilight’s chest, striking his shirt slightly below the collar and nearly knocking him over in the process. The gleaming rock stung with a searing heat, even through the fabric. Twilight frantically attempted to pry the gem off, to back away from it, to do something to stop that scalding heat, but his fingers flinched back from an eruption of sparks. Meanwhile, the gem merely pressed against him all the harder, all the hotter. A thin vapor curled up from the point of contact, carrying an acrid scent.
“What’s it doing?!” Twilight gasped. “And what’s that smell?”
Your mortal fabric is blocking the progress of harmony, that voice whispered in Twilight’s mind once more. Such impediments are not acceptable and shall be dealt with accordingly. You might want to remove the rest of your clothes as well. They may become ill-fitting or restrictive.
“Your shirt catching fire?” Spike said, grabbing a twig from the ground and rushing Twilight, attempting to pry the gem off with the stick. However, the twig caught fire the moment it touched the gem, and whatever force propelled the gem pushed the stick roughly away and sent Spike tumbling to the ground with it.
“I’ve got this!” Rainbow Dash said, spreading his large wings and rocketing skywards. “Stay still, I’ll be right back!”
“Wait, come ba-ack!” Twilight called after Dash, only to to clasp his hands to his throat as what felt like a violent hiccup wracked through his windpipe, his voice cracking. “Don’t leave us he-re!”
Another shudder rattled its way up Twilight’s throat, causing his voice to crack again as it hadn’t since puberty. Finally, an actual hiccup erupted from Twilight’s mouth, then another, and another, and another still. With each involuntarily yelp, Twilight’s eyes widened as he felt the impossible sensation of his neck thinning in his hands, becoming slender, and in the front, decidedly flatter and smoother.
“What’s ha-ppening to me-ee?!” Twilight demanded in between bouts of increasingly higher-pitched yelps.
“Twilight, you sound...” Spike began, but couldn’t finish, his wide eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute...”
“What-ever this thing is do-ing, it ends no-ow!” Twilight snarled, too overcome by the burning on his chest to notice how high pitched and otherwise altered his voice was becoming. With each syllable, it sounded less like the smooth voice of a young stallion and more like the voice of a child attempting to sound grown up, and then the husky voice of a young, breathy mare, and then further, further, and ever further still into increasingly more feminine tones.
Ignoring the singe of the heat, Twilight shoved his hands through the sparks of the glowing gemstone and grabbed hold of it, feeling sparks and smoke from what must have once been the unburnt parts of his shirt. It fought him, but he was too overwhelmed by the adrenaline of confused frustration to let it push him off again, and so he roughly yanked it.
Unfortunately, this only resulted in causing him to gasp as if he’d been stung by the rock all over again, only this time, from the other way around. Looking down, Twilight saw that the gem had completely burned through his shirt to get at the small fluff of coat on his upper chest. Although it had miraculously somehow not burned his actual coat or skin, the gem looked smaller and of a different shape than it should have been.
Or rather, Twilight realized, part of it was hidden. Half of the gem looked to have pressed inside Twilight, the other half of its glowing, round, crystalline countenance protruding out. Pulling at it was like trying to tear off a superglued bandage. It may as well have welded itself to his body.
“What did you... Oh...” Twilight began, then stopped, then tried to speak again, before finally giving up as he at last registered what his ears were telling him.
It sounded like it should have been his voice. It said what thoughts he pushed into the world through all the right motions of his tongue and the shapes of his mouth. It spoke in perfectly matched conjunction with the subtle flexes of his inner throat and the corresponding movements of his neck. And yet, though he spoke through this voice, it was not his own. It was the voice of a young mare, undeniable as anything else.
“What did you do to my voice?!” Twilight demanded after a tense silence, glaring down at the gemstone lodged painlessly yet not exactly comfortably in his chest. “Spike, tell me you’re not hearing this!”
“If you’re referring to how you’d have a new position in the Royal Equestrian Choir, if you ever bothered to show up for it despite owning a membership card, then yes,” Spike said, staring at Twilight blankly. “I don’t think it’s just your voice, though, Twi. Your whole face looks different.”
Furrowing his brow at this unexpected remark, Twilight raised his hands to his face, not exactly sure what he should expect. Whatever it was, though, it wasn’t what he felt. His entire face felt odd to the touch and growing odder and more unfamiliar by the moment, as if some unseen cosmic baker were kneading his flesh like dough, rounding out his cheeks, smoothing the underside of his chin perhaps a bit too forcefully, pushing certain bones higher, and most of all, pushing against and pinching in the forefront of his face.
Getting a sinking feeling, Twilight crossed his eyes to see his slight but no less boxy snout pushing further back into his face and shrinking, rounding, and reshaping. By the time it was finished, Twilight’s hands felt something more akin to the button nose snout of a mare than anything he’d ever possessed. He couldn’t even feel the beard he’d worked so hard to fashion into what he’d always hoped was stylish, just a smooth underside to his newly shrunken, rounded face.
Speaking of sinking feelings, the world itself looked to be growing larger around him, until Twilight realized that it must instead be he who was becoming shorter by comparison. For what was probably no more than being a head shorter at most, the world loomed up impossibly large in Twilight’s terrified eyes, one of which twitched in an all too familiar bout of nervous spasms. The only difference was that now his twitchy eyes were rimmed by longer, darker, and thicker lashes.
A scream welled up in Twilight’s throat, his heart racing in his shrunken chest, until he shut both eyes tight, took a deep breath, and let it out with glacial slowness.
“Uh...” Spike said. “Twilight...?”
“I have to reason this out,” Twilight said in a surprisingly calm tone despite the unfamiliar voice with which it was spoken, his eyes opening at last, though unfocused, as if he was seeing elsewhere.
“Twilight?” Spike asked again. “You, er, um...”
“It looks and feels like I’m being transformed by a magical gemstone from a stallion into a mare,” Twilight went on, even when longer and thicker strands and tufts of his mane crept lower across his vision, tickling the sides of his face, and even tumbling down his neck, shoulders, and upper back. “Obviously, this is a completely ridiculous proposition that cannot possibly have any basis in fact.”
“Twilight?” Spike asked again, his voice sounding a bit more urgent. “Maybe you should look down...”
“Hypothesis one,” Twilight said. “I’m experiencing a fever dream while sick in my bed, still in Canterlot and still physically male.”
Yes, that sounded far more plausible than this chaotic reality. Twilight was at home in bed, sick and feverish. He had to be. He could already feel what he hoped was actually reality seeping in, the unpleasant but at least real heat of the fever, the sensation of being lost in warm blankets as he tossed and turned fitfully beneath the covers. Blankets that at first felt too large, and then too tight. Too constrictive. No matter which way he turned, they grew tighter, wrapping around him, strangling him with a hot, sweaty mix of shock and unexpected exertion.
The heat kept rising like a furnace through his skin. Twilight at last turned his attention downwards, half expecting to see steam rising off his coat as he tossed and turned in his cozy bed in Canterlot...
Only, that’s not what he saw. Not at all.
Twilight was still very much lost in the Everfree Forest with a crazed magical gemstone lodged in his chest. More precisely, what would have been between his pectoral muscles if he had ever gained definition there and lost the lanky, wiry countenance he seemed to have been eternally saddled with in his late teen years.
Only, his chest was gaining definition now, just not necessarily with any focus on musculature. Twilight’s eyes widened like a deer blinded by the blaze of an oncoming forest fire, unable to flee, unable to move, but helpless to watch as it overtook him.
Though Twilight’s narrower, shrunken shoulders practically swam in his suddenly oversized shirt, his chest was swelling larger, slowly yet with increasing speed. With each passing breath, more soft, supple flesh seeped into the growing mounds on his chest, filling them out rounder, larger, fuller, and heavier. They pulled downwards against his upper torso, moreso with each moment. They rubbed against the gemstone wedged between them at the crest of Twilight’s deepening cleavage, as well as each other. Twilight’s breasts, for what else could they be, pushed against the remnants of his shirt, their swollen tips making little tents in the fabric.
With that, Twilight’s mind finally snapped.
Screaming, he backpedalled, turned, and ran. Whether he was trying to run away from his own shifting body or simply so full of shock and adrenaline that it was an instinctive response, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had grown a pair of breasts, and they jostled and bounced like mad with each step, against themselves and against the rest of him, the fabric of his shirt sliding across them with heightened yet no less alien sensations. They practically had their own personal laws of inertia, always chasing his movements a heartbeat out of sync before catching up, continuing, and finally bouncing back.
“Twilight, stop!” Spike cried, chasing after him. “You’ll hurt yourself!”
“If I smack myself in the face with these?!” Twilight shouted back.
“No, your pants are too big now!” Spike said. “You’re going to --”
As if on cue, Twilight completed Spike’s sentence for him via demonstration, tripping over the now too long and too large ends of his pant legs and sending him tumbling to the ground. Twilight broke most of the fall with his outstretched hands, but that didn’t stop his new bosom from receiving more than its fair share of the impact as well, sending a piercing sting through him.
“Why don’t these soften the fall?” Twilight mumbled through another mouthful of dirt and underbrush. “Why do they make it worse?!”
“They’re not airbags,” Spike said. “Maybe you’d know that if you ever took Moon Dancer up on her skinny dipping invitations.”
“Wrong time to mention that,” Twilight grumbled as he struggled back up into a sitting position, looking as if he was about to launch into another retort before his voice caught in his throat, his eyes grew wide, and his face flushed red. “Spike, I think you should leave.”
“Why, what’s--”
“Go stand by that tree!” Twilight interrupted. “Don’t look back!”
Spike looked about to protest, but seeing the look of desperation and discomfort on Twilight’s face, relented and headed off.
Making sure Spike was far enough away and not peeking, Twilight forced himself to look down once more. Past his new breasts, his already thin torso cinched even more tightly inwards at the waist, any excess mass pushing down to force his legs apart as his hips widened. The sudden change nearly knocked the wind out of Twilight, though it wasn’t as bad as the tight strangle his pants suddenly had on his protesting hips. Soon, Twilight’s hips were joined in their revolt against his clothing by his thickening, softening thighs and equally swelling posterior, each pushing softly against the forest floor.
Trying to release some of the tension, Twilight struggled to shove his pants down, finally freeing his curvier lower body with a burst of relief. Twilight could feel the changes further rippling down his legs, shrinking his calves, making his hooves a bit smaller as well, fluffing up tufts of his coat at his fetlocks.
Nevertheless, Twilight’s face still burned as it had since he ordered Spike away. More than just the sensations of his own shifting flesh, Twilight had felt the rhythmic pulse of something else rising steadily within him. Parts of it were recognizable as arousal, but parts of it were too intense for that, touching deeper, if not outright inverted in their nature. His insides felt warmer by the moment, not to mention... Squishier?
“What is happening to me?” Twilight whispered to himself as he felt the oddly pleasurable pressure building up deep inside him, soon overflowing to manifest itself in perhaps the one yet untouched part of his anatomy.
As terrified of intimacy or even the mere idea of sex as he may have been, Twilight was no stranger to getting an erection. From the purely scholarly perspective, it was a rush of blood and biological preparations to the male reproductive organ known as the penis, readying it for a release of sexual fluids and a rewarding rush of endorphins. From the perspective of an awkward young man who was regularly horny despite his self-imposed celibacy, he knew he was getting a hard on and on the verge of blowing his load.
Twilight’s penis, or dick, or whatever his frazzled mind wanted to call it, positively throbbed. Now exposed to the open air, it looked more erect, hard, and pent up than he’d ever seen it, practically pulsating, a watery film coating its tip.
And yet, Twilight felt no relief, no gooey white explosion of his load. He didn’t even know how he could be so aroused, hornier than he’d ever felt in his life, at such a bizarre time as this.
Almost finished , that voice whispered in Twilight’s mind. Preparing to expel all unnecessary elements before the final reconstructure .
Twilight grunted. Or, perhaps, his body grunted and Twilight was merely along for the ride, his body acting completely divorced from his rational mind. He felt his testicals tightening in their sack. He felt his dick rushing as the largest orgasm he’d ever experienced wracked through his body and spewed out onto the forest floor between his fuller thighs. It didn’t stop, not for several moments, several more grunts, several more shudders in which his eyes felt like they would roll so far back in his head they’d see his brain having turned into a gooey mush.
It felt amazing.
But also horrible.
An explosion of ecstasy the likes of which poets of old would die to achieve, to capture in words.
His body turning against him, taking control, his hips bucking wildly in the air at nothing.
Even worse, the horror didn’t end after he’d released the last drop.
As Twilight felt the last of what must have been every last bit of seed he’d had in him at the moment drain out, the pounding, hard heat retreated into a pulsing, soft fire. He watched helpless as his spent dick shrank and softened, swallowed up into his flesh as were his testicles. Everything shifted lower, flattened into a firm yet puffy mound. Twilight felt an opening sensation that tunneled ever upwards, his insides churning as what was absorbed reshaped itself.
Exhausted and feeling like he’d just run a marathon, Twilight collapsed backwards. Falling from sitting on the forest floor to fully lying back on it, his breasts heaved as he breathed haggardly.
His every bodily sensation confirmed what his mind already knew to be true; he was now completely physically female. Nothing was left between his legs but what his scholarly mind would call a vagina. What his cultured sensibilities would refer to as maidenhood at their most crass. What most stallions his age called a pussy.
“I’m back!” Rainbow Dash’s voice announced as a blur of sky blue feathers and multi-colored hair sped into view, pushing a small, dark storm cloud before them. “This’ll put out that fire!”
With a quick stomp from above, the cloud poured rain, soaking Twilight and what was left of his clothes.
“A little late for the cold shower, Dash,” Twilight grumbled.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. “So... What exactly is going on?” Fluttershy asked, breaking the latest of more awkward, drawn-out silences than Twilight was willing to count. It was the first time Twilight had heard Fluttershy speak since Pinkie Pie’s monstrous cake-thing, and also the first time Fluttershy had made direct eye-contact with Twilight himself. For such a meek-looking stallion, his eyes were rather intense.
“I didn’t lie to you all,” Twilight said quickly, seeing the suspicious looks in the other stallions’ faces approaching the thin line of up and walking out on his mission. “I just... Gave you each different versions of the truth.”
“Is it or is it not a treasure hunt?” Rainbow Dash asked, his thin arms crossed in front of his plain hoodie and his eyes narrow, presenting the most intimidating look Twilight could have imagined on a pony of so small. “If it is, I still want in, but the big evil-looking moon covering the sun seems more important at the moment. Treasure can wait till after whatever that is.”
“I must admit, Prince Twilight, that though I have ultimate faith in you, I am more than a tad confused myself,” Rarity added. “Did Princess Celestia really send you on a mission to save Equestria, and if so, how does whatever’s in the Everfree Forest avert whatever is going on with the moon? Furthermore, what is going on with the moon, anyway?”
Twilight couldn’t help but glance up at the mention of the creeping dark disc in the sky. In the short time it had taken Twilight to convince his prospective companions to walk from the Ponyville plaza to the edge of the Everfree Forest, the moon had covered nearly half of the sun. Most ponies they’d passed on the way here had remained outside, clearly uneasy as they watched the sun’s slow obscuration, but not really sure what to do about it. Beyond standing around and speaking to each other in hushed, worried whispers, what could they have done?
“Ah’m mighty interested in hearin’ that part, mahself,” Applejack added, his bulky crossed arms against his bulkier chest doing a fair bit more to look intimidating than Rainbow, despite the latter’s best efforts. Applejack had come looking for Twilight shortly after the moon began overtaking the sun, looking far more suspicious than apologetic that he had turned out to be wrong about Twilight’s proposition. Given the circumstances, Twilight hated to admit that he couldn’t really blame him.
“I told you the truth right from the start,” Twilight said, glancing at Applejack. “But you didn’t believe me. That’s why I had to tell everypony else almost-but-not-quite the truth. Do you believe me now?”
“Not exactly,” Applejack huffed. “But somethin’ here is more rotten than a cow patch in August.”
“First of all... Ugh...” Twilight said with a shudder. “I really wish you hadn’t put that image in my head. Second, well, let me just tell you everything as best as I know, because I really don’t know the whole story. I just know that the moon breaking astronomical protocol up there is really, really bad news for Equestria, what’s waiting in the Everfree Forest is the only thing that can stop what’s coming, and we don’t have a lot of time to find it. Come help me find it, and I’ll tell you on the way... Please?”
Twilight flashed his most earnest, heroic smile across the wall of unimpressed faces, earning only a few confused blinks and the occasional awkward cough in response.
“Okay, okay, fine,” Twilight sighed in defeat. “Once upon a time--”
“I always hated that cliche,” chuckled a... Something. Not quite a voice. Not quite present. Felt, but more as a shudder than a sound.
“What the hay was that?!” Applejack gasped, his hand darting to what Twilight saw really was a firearm holster at his hip, even if he only drew a handful of yet more business cards. “Ah’m warnin’ ya, spooky voice, Ah gotta sales pitch longer than a country mile, and Ah ain’t afraid ta use it!”
“...Cards on the table,” Rarity whispered to Twilight. “I had hoped your ‘epic quest’ involved overseeing preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration, not an actual threat. Would it be dishonorable if I were to politely retract my offer of undying knighthood?”
“I never accepted it in the first place,” Twilight hissed back. “But yes.”
Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy said nothing, but stood back-to-back, their wings at the ready as they scanned the unnatural dusk of what should have been midday. Twilight followed their gaze and noted with another shiver that the elongated shadows of the untimely gloom didn’t always quite match the shapes of what cast them.
“Amatuers,” Pinkie chuckled. “What, none of you ever cracked wise with a child of the void?”
“I see the pink one is here,” whispered the eerie susurration of sounds with what Twilight could have sworn was a grumble. “How wonderful.”
“You know her?” Twilight asked.
“Of course not,” Pinkie and the voice both said at once. “But word gets around.”
“What is it?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I’m starting to see your point, Twilight, but I’d really like a little more answer than ‘spooky shadow voice is acting vaguely threatening towards us,’ as super creepy as that is.”
“What is it?” the voice whispered in a mocking imitation of Rainbow’s scratchy cantor. “I assure you, dearest hatchling of the most naive morning, I am not an ‘it.’ I am what swallows the concept of ‘it’ into myself.”
The group tensed as the incongruous shadows all around them lengthened further, darkened, deepened, distorted. Twilight knew, although he did not know how, that the trees of the forest’s edge no longer cast these shadows. Perhaps they never had. They merely borrowed their darkness from something much, much older, greater, colder.
“I am the night,” the voice whispered, the air chill, the group’s tense breath frosting with each worried huff, their own shadows twisting. “I am darkness. I am the all-consuming maw of your deepest, most primeval fears, crawling up from the primordial abyss of the deepness of time. Before your consciousness crawled its way out of the muck of pre-creation, before light dared oppose the dark with its foolhardy falsehoods, I was there. I was waiting. I will still be waiting long after I have snuffed out the spark of your existence, long after I have forgotten such trifles as ‘love’ and ‘friendship’ and ‘life.’ I am infinite, you foolish children of light, child of lies. I am eternal. I am--”
“Nightmare Moon,” Twilight blurted.
“Goddesses dammit!” shouted the voice. “Way to steal my thunder, you eggheaded runt! I had this whole speech building up, and you had to ruin it right at the end! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to deliver that line to Celly’s rotten champions?!”
“...A thousand years?” Twilight ventured, shoulders hunched.
“That was rhetorical!” the voice, Nightmare Moon, raged. “You’ll pay for this! You’ll pay for everything!”
All at once, the twisting shadows all around faded back to their ordinary shades and resumed their proper silhouettes, the sound of a muted grumble fading into the distance.
“...What just happened?” Fluttershy gasped, sounding on the verge of tears.
“Twilight here just ruined a perfectly good punchline to a millennium-long buildup,” Pinkie Pie said. “Hecklers truly are a disgrace to the standup villain community.”
“Whose side are you on?!” Twilight snapped. “Is she where you get all your creepy baking mumbo-jumbo?”
“From her?” Pinkie snorted. “Are you kidding me? I’d never stoop to such base, lowbrow material. The whole ‘dark lord’ schtick is so old-hat. No, we just have a similar supplier.”
Twilight eyed Pinkie strangely for a moment before shaking his head and throwing up his arms in defeat.
“Wait just a durn tootin’ minute,” Applejack said. “That was Nightmare Moon? The boogie-mare that foals make their parents check under the bed for? The mascot of non-locally grown big-wig candy companies exploiting Nightmare Night for personal profit, when small town businesses are clearly the better--”
“This is not the time for one of your lectures on rural economics, Applejack,” Rarity interrupted. “Prince Twilight, just what is going on? What can you tell us?”
“One of my favorite subjects has always been ancient Equestrian magic,” Twilight explained. “Over the years, I kept finding oddly isolated references to an old tale about one of the defining battles between light and dark magic. The eternal cycle of dark and light is a theme in practically every old myth, even from pre-Equestrian times. There’s the Pony of Shadows, Lord Tirek, Grogar; the list is endless. But the tale of the Mare in the Moon is only ever occasionally mentioned, never told in detail.”
“Maybe we should get the abridged notes version instead of the twenty-page essay, Twilight,” Spike said. “Like you said, we probably don’t have a lot of time.”
“Right, sorry,” Twilight said with a sheepish grin. “I recently discovered the most complete account of the tale of the Mare in the Moon I’d ever seen. Supposedly, she used to be Princess Celestia’s younger sister, in charge of raising and setting the moon while Celestia rose and set the sun. However, eventually the two came into conflict, the younger sister turned into the evil Nightmare Moon, and Celestia had to use a powerful, ancient magic to banish her to the moon to stop her from creating eternal night. However, after a thousand years of banishment, she’ll be able to come back and finish her plan, which is happening right now.”
“But the Princess doesn’t have a sister,” Rainbow Dash pointed out.
“That’s what I always thought, too,” Twilight said with a nod. “When I asked the Princess about it and told her I feared Nightmare Moon’s imminent return, she told me that she hid all information about her sister that she could. Apparently, the magical forces Celestia used to banish Nightmare Moon in the first place are sort of particular. Celestia can’t use them herself anymore, but she couldn’t just give them to the next generation of heroes. The magic wants to be rediscovered, not regifted.
“That’s what we’re looking for,” Twilight finished, turning to peer into the Everfree Forest, which already looked darker than it should, even with the encroaching gloom. “That magical treasure that defeated Nightmare Moon the first time is hidden in the heart of the Everfree Forest, at Princess Celestia’s old castle. Once I discovered what was going on, Celestia charged me with gathering the best heroes I could find and retrieving the treasure to defeat Nightmare Moon again. If we don’t, Equestria will be shrouded in darkness forever.”
“Still not exactly the abridged notes version,” Spike pointed out. “More like a mini-essay, but close enough.”
“Ah’m sorry Ah didn’t believe ya the first time,” Applejack said.
“It’s okay,” Twilight replied with a reassuring smile. “In hindsight, it must have sounded pretty silly without any proof. But do you all believe me now?”
One by one, the group gave a worried yet determined smile and nodded.
“Excellent, thank you all,” Twilight said, feeling better about this whole venture than he had since its outset. “I won’t pretend it’s going to be easy, but the fate of Equestria depends on us. If we succeed, we’ll be heroes. If we fail... Well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Now, let’s be off! We have a kingdom to save.”
“Right!” the rest of the group all shouted in unison.
Twilight about-faced and charged head-first into the darkness of the Everfree Forest, his new companions hot on his heels... Or rather, he would have, had he not instead ran headfirst into something else.
What that something was, Twilight couldn’t be sure. One moment, he was rushing into the shadowy pathways of the Everfree, a song in his heart, a fire in his blood, and new friends at his back. The next, his head had run right between two warm, pillowy masses of congealing darkness materializing right where he had been heading.
Twilight felt himself tripping, and someone new tripping with him. There was a tumble, a tangle of limbs, a slew of curses in an eerily familiar voice, and the oddly pleasant yet still utterly terrifying sensation of that same soft warmth pressed against Twilight as he and whoever else had suddenly appeared ended up on the leafy carpet of the forest floor.
“Get off me, you mortal sleazebag!” demanded a voice that matched the whispers from earlier exactly, save for the fact that now it thundered. “How am I supposed to destroy you if you’re on top of me?!”
Twilight tried to say something, but found his voice instead muffled between the twin soft something-or-others. In fact, his whole body was pressed against this new person, who could only be one person, really, based on her unmistakable snarl of an imperious voice.
“Stop that!” Nightmare Moon demanded, somehow sounding on the verge of laughter despite her furious tone. “That tickles!”
“Sorry!” Twilight gasped, at last regaining his sense of balance long enough to raise his head, gasp for air, and push up from the ground. “I haven’t trimmed my beard in a few days, and it must have... Oh, uh... Wow...”
What Twilight saw beneath him was a towering, if currently horizontal, alicorn mare. Her fine coat was darker than the sky on a moonless night. Her features looked, and in fact were, positively divine. She wore a surprisingly tight and revealing imperial silken dress of a sort Twilight had only ever seen in illustrations of ancient Equestrian royalty, albeit pale and faintly glowing like the thinnest sliver of a lunar crescent.
“You’re much more... Pleasant to behold than I had expected,” Nightmare Moon said, drawing Twilight’s eyes to her own, instantly banishing his blush and sending a cold chill to overwrite his confused, terrified, slightly aroused sensations with the most frigid of blizzards.
Her eyes were not the eyes of a pony.
Princess Celestia’s eyes were kind, calm, understanding, even motherly. They glowed faintly with the warm light of a comforting sun on a beautiful summer day, and spoke of wisdom gained over generations of peacefully ruling her subjects with patience and love. They were the eyes of a teacher, a friend.
Nightmare Moon’s eyes, however, if they were even eyes at all... Her sclera was darker than the night sky on a starless night Twilight had never seen, but could imagine all too well. Her irises were deepest verdian, or perhaps azure, or perhaps cobalt, or perhaps even darker still, simply backer than the sclera. Her pupils were an infinite descent, down, down, down through the darkest of darkness to a depth described only in screams, only in fears, only as nightmares.
“Nevertheless, if you’re going to ram your filthy, unwashed mortal face into the sacred bosom,” Nightmare Moon continued with a tone returning from near-giggle to the most sinister of snarls. “At least buy your dark goddess dinner first.”
