Thirst for Knowledge

Chapters

Draw Three
Discard Two
Or an Artifact, or Two Cards Which May or May Not Be Artifacts, and if You Really Want to You Can Discard Two Artifacts

Draw Three

I sank to the ground under the relentless assault, my newfound magic quashed, the psychotic haze surrounding my eyes dissipating. It had taken mere moments for my illustrious opponent to sunder everything I had worked so hard to accomplish. I did not care about the hundreds of painstaking hours spent obsessively searching, but that the research and developments from this ‘Magic of Friendship’ would be forever lost!

Clad in an opalescent white and pink dress, two illuminating golden wings spread wide and a two foot long ethereal white horn jutting out from her forehead, Seraph Sunset Shimmer looked not overjoyed at defeating me after our prolonged magical duel but resigned.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Her soft voice echoed among the heavy fog. “Take my hand.”

She stretched the eponymous appendage toward me. It felt like we were the only two beings in the world, separated from everything else, and perhaps we were. The school, the students, the surroundings were lost in a wall of mist. I was alone, afraid, and…

A senseless rage almost overtook me; the perfect target to be browbeaten, coerced, and threatened!

I bit back my fiery temper with a grimaced tuck of chin against chest, like I was a wild dog about to be struck again. A violent eruption would do no good, my reserves spent like so many alms. Of the vain hope remaining?

My teeth ground against each other. I understood perfectly what would transpire if I took that hand. I had transcended my previous self by donning the Magic of Friendship, creating the perfected form I now possessed! I would not let a jeering ravager like her close to my mind! Her promised transformation would not empower me with Friendship, but strip me bare!

I could not abandon reason, but I could escape this nightshade assassin, her wreath of light a macabre mockery. There is a certain strength in isolation, one I had become thoroughly acquainted with during my time as a droll pariah at Crystal Prep. I peered through the hazy depths surrounding us, revealing dozens of students. Each tirelessly worked to rescue each other from the aftermath of my actions. Only one searched for me - my faithful dog, Spike.

I knew I would never find a place here. Not with the destruction in my wake.

With the last of my strength I raised my hand in the traditional alchemist’s greeting, hoping my bluff would be enough. And so - with a regretful glance to my one friend in this world, Spike, his twin eyes mourning my estranged state with weeping tears - I let myself fall towards the one remaining portal, the call to the netherworld too great to surrender.

A frantic purifying salvo passed me by inches, a frenzied shout, and then there was just the wind. I was gone, the portal sealed away. Nagging thoughts were swept aside as I fell, a gibbering descent into madness as space and time warped around me.

At some indeterminate point later I found myself plummeting, tumbling through endless clear skies coupled with rolling greens and browns and blues and grays of a countryside that couldn’t make up its mind about where it wanted to be. A golden sun gleamed brightly, but not blindingly so. An idyllic setting, this strange world, down to the rustic town sprawled underneath that rapidly rushed closer. The situation might have been terrifying but for the Magic of Friendship still coursing through my veins.

By pure force of will I stopped. A glance backward confirmed my two midnight blue wings were still present. What was discombobulating was that they connected to a sleek lavender coat and equine body.

I uttered a bemused, “Hmm,” as I raised my right arm… no, my right foreleg. Magic already altered my reality once; there was no law saying it couldn’t do so a second time. The scientist in me immediately demanded experimentation, if not an explanation I knew was not forthcoming. Perhaps this land might provide answers?

A quick test proved all of my parts functioned as I would expect them to, though I suspected galloping would fare better the less I thought about the actual kinetics. My wings seemed more ornamental than functional, given my magic, but they were fully capable of flight and folded easily against my sides. My exposed underbelly and backside left too little to the imagination; a magenta flare of the teal horn I could barely make out crafted a set of violet barding with teal accents.

My very essence thrummed with power. Despite my drained reserves I felt invincible! Yet I knew the feeling was but an illusion of grandeur, a strength borne of lunacy, and I was determined not to waste this second chance by letting my arrogance make a wurm out of me.

With little else to do besides study geography and my newfound body I found myself drifting towards the closer of the two most predominant structures of the town below: a massive crystal... tree in the glacial process of devouring a spired castle topped by an eight pointed star. Strangely, a similar star to the one I emblazoned on my barding, though clear crystal instead of magenta.

An oddly familiar purple winged rootwalla basked on the balcony of one of those spires. The black and white maid outfit suggested sapience, though I had done more than my share of equipping Spike to know it could be a pet. I drifted closer, smiling at the whistled lullaby that accompanied the feather duster idly sweeping back and forth.

I was noticed in almost no time at all; he must be accustomed to spotting despots on the skyline. His face registered surprise, but not the terror I might have felt at a ravenous intruder descending toward me.

“Twilight!” shouted the purple lizard, valiantly brandishing the duster. He did not take his eyes off me even as he inclined his head toward the open door. “I thought you were busy reshelving!”

“I am busy reshelving!” came a disconcertingly familiar voice from the dark depths. “What is it, Spike?”

Spike? I frowned as I compared the creature to my canine friend. The colors were a mirror match, down to the green tuft of hair and eyes. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Oh,” he said as I came to the exact same conclusion. “I think some funky parallel universe shenanigans are going on.”

“Good shenanigans or bad shenanigans?” growled my doppelganger’s voice. “Hold on, I’m getting an important call right now.”

A grave scrabbling in my gut stirred me to evasive action; a mere thought brought me to the multi-storied purple and white building set against a green hill. Waterfalls spilled off the edges of the center entryway and around a stylized picture that bore a vague resemblance to my own preferred attire. And, even more curiously, an exact replica of the necklace around my neck, an eight pointed magenta star.

I levitated to the moat, setting down on two islands along the walkway, and gazed into the crystal clear waters. My reflection was not quite what I expected, with an equine’s long face and large, expressive eyes that properly belonged in a cartoon. My… mane billowed away from my head as an ever-burning inferno of magenta and violet. It was intimidating, to say the least, and I found myself recoiling at my imposing visage.

“I love the new look, Twilight,” a refined voice said from behind me. I turned; there stood a pearled unicorn with a styled dark purple mane, exactly the same configuration that Rarity from Canterlot High wore so glamorously. “Very avante-garde,” she continued with an affirming nod.

“Thanks,” I politely returned, if curtly. I cared little for my outward appearance, though the… mare seemed eager to continue the conversation. Perhaps she would be useful in navigating the premises. “I made it just now.”

“Really?” Rarity inquired, conveying more than a passing interest in the technical details with a single word.

“Yes,” I replied, if only to fill the resulting void. “Perhaps we can…” I trailed off as I noticed the three teal diamonds on her bare flank pulsing brightly.

“Oh!” she exclaimed happily, tapping her hooves in an excited dance. “It looks like a Friendship Mission!” Rarity glanced back to me. And then above me. She cocked her head at the approaching winged lizard. And, to my dismay, my native counterpart. Her eyes rapidly flicked between the two of us, ending with a vaguely disappointed sigh. “Twilight, is this your doing?”

“Yes,” I replied guilelessly at the exact same time as my counterpart sternly said, “No.”

I frowned. I had not meant to speak the truth, or indeed to give any answer at all. Was I compelled by this magic to answer Honestly? I nervously drummed my front hooves against my footing, debating the best counter.

“At least we know it isn’t a changeling ploy,” Spike remarked dryly, glancing between the two Twilights.

“No, a blast from the past,” Twilight said, apprehension and distrust staining her words. “You were vanquished years ago, Midnight Sparkle. Why have you returned?”

“I…” I stammered, unable to answer the question behind the question she was demanding. Why did she call me Midnight instead of Twilight? I suppose I was transformed, and she had the prior claim to her name, as I was walking in her plane. “I have no recollection of being here before. I seek to learn the Magic of Friendship.”

“I’ve received word,” Twilight remarked as she drew herself up to her full height, “from Daydream Shimmer that you are wanted in the mirror world.” I could sense the very air aligning itself to her will as her horn surged with power. It was simultaneously alluring and alarming that one not so different from myself could so casually wield such ability. “That you pose a threat to ponies and their magic.”

My mind whirred with possibilities. I immediately discarded any involving escalation, not willing to acknowledge the murderous compulsion. With only untempered power at my hooves? Lethality and surprise would be my only options, and that was not a road I was willing to travel. Perhaps I might be able to flee, but that would run counter with my true purpose here.

I contritely lowered one knee in what I hoped was a supplicating manner. It would not do for them to call my stance a masquerade. “I formally request asylum.”

“Y-you do?” asked my counterpart, her concentration broken and the shimmer around her horn dissipating.

“She does what now?” demanded a brash voice from behind me.

I turned, seeing six ponies in an assault formation. Two winged, one yellow and one cerulean; two horned, one heliotrope and one azure; and two without wings or horns, one pink and one orange. Their eagerness to fight was impossible to miss, and the azure horned one looked especially disappointed that she wouldn’t be taking me down a peg.

“Asylum,” I slowly repeated to the incorrigible youths, enunciating every syllable. “I have good reason to believe I would be tortured and destroyed should I return.”

Twilight glanced around, nakedly grimacing at the approaching crowd of curious onlookers. “Not here,” she said, a bright flash from her horn briefly blinding me. We reappeared in the middle of a large room. Some sixth sense told me we were now inside the castle, and I could make out an ephemeral tunnel that traced back to the origin of the teleport. It took all my will to break my gaze from the fascinating sight and to my surroundings.

Six chairs surrounded a massive stone table in the center of the room. Magic coursed through it, seemingly connected not just to the ponies but to the entirety of the country it depicted in miniature. Chunks of crystal jutted haphazardly from blue walls and green stained glass windows. A massive root structure secured to the ceiling had trinkets and pictures hanging down, the baubles lighting the room. I briefly wondered what sort of creature would need such a massive auditorium, given the doors were large enough for six ponies to walk abreast.

It took almost no time for six of the ponies to take their seats while azure and heliotrope stood guard near the door, Spike hovering near Twilight. As one they turned to regard me with naked hostility. It pained me to be subject to the vixen’s judgement; it seemed they would play not only judge and jury but, if they were to rule against me, executioner.

“Tortured?” The brash voice sputtered, belonging to the cerulean pegasus; I recognized her as Rainbow Dash, which would make the remainder of the motley crew Fluttershy, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. I did not recognize the other two. Rainbow Dash nervously glanced at Twilight, hiding it with the sharpness of a cold, biting rain. “That doesn’t sound right. They wouldn’t do that!”

“They would,” I repeated strenuously. I pointedly glanced between Dash, Rarity, and Twilight. “Or what would you call it if they stripped you of your wings, your horn, your magic?”

“They claim you stripped them of their magic,” Twilight stated. She held up an enchanted journal, the pages detailing as much. “That you might prey upon the ponies here. What do you say to that?”

“They…” I started, but stopped almost immediately. I wanted to say that they lied, but that implied a conscious decision to not tell the truth. They were merely ignorant, the facts presented from one side. “Those are unsubstantiated allegations.”

“Really?” Twilight asked, her voice hard.

“Friendship is like knowledge,” I stated. It sounded trite enough to mollify her. “It can be shared without diminishing. As proof, they were able to empower their friend Sunset Shimmer with the power of Friendship. She defeated me, using the power that you share.” My gaze sweeps across the room, briefly resting on each pony in turn.

“So you’re not like Tirek?” Twilight demanded as a quill, held in a raspberry aura, scribbled in the journal.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that name,” I said evenly.

Twilight took a moment to read the journal’s written response. She glanced up curiously. “You aren’t planning on betraying us?”

“No,” I immediately reassured, wondering who would be naive enough to expect any other response to such a question.

Myself, apparently. I was not enthused by this revelation. Though if there was some sort of ability at play that compelled honest answers? Or at the very least detected dishonesty? I couldn’t rule anything out.

“And I have no interest in a campaign of vengeance,” I continued. “What’s done is done.”

Twilight glanced toward Applejack. The hatted pony returned the barest of nods.

“If that is the case,” Twilight stated, drawing herself up regally. “You will obey the rule of law.”

I couldn’t help but nod, hoping their laws were at least similar to my own.

“And what do you wish to do as our visitor in asylum?” Twilight demanded.

“I wish to learn about the Magic of Friendship,” I repeated.

A hint of a smile flashed across her face. “Very well.” Twilight drew herself up to her full height, wings unfurling in a commanding display. “As a Princess of Equestria, I grant you asylum.” Then, in an instant, the pompous demeanor faded. She practically pranced as she flew to a window and threw the crystal open. “And you came to the right place! Because this-” her forelegs flung wide, indicating the whole campus behind the castle “-is my School of Friendship!”

“Your?” I repeated dumbly, flabbergasted. Somehow, I imagined one with that much power would aspire to more than an administrative position. Perhaps teachers did more than empower students with knowledge here?

“That’s right!” Twilight beamed brightly, comically proud of this fact. “Now, I’m going to be a little busy trying to figure this,” she held up the journal and gave it a little shake, “since, you know, you blew up the portal that we normally use to get back and forth. And I need to figure out how exactly we’re able to communicate across the dimensional and temporal barrier.” She coughed. “So I made a list!”

“I love lists!” I said enthusiastically, craning my neck to try to peek at the contents of said list.

“Oh, great,” Rainbow Dash moaned. “There’s two of them.”

“Hey!” Twilight exclaimed, and she barely beat me to it. “Lists are great!”

Despite the awkwardness I nodded and crossed my forelegs in front of me. Levitating without flapping my wings certainly helped.

“In fact,” Twilight started. I couldn’t help but notice the worried and resigned looks among her friends. “I have a list for this exact situation!”

“You do?” I asked, wondering how many times a copy of yourself came to visit.

“Well, yeah!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, nodding superfluously. The list she rattled off made me wonder if she could read minds. “There was the time that Twilight sent herself back in time, the changelings, the mirror pond, the time we all swapped personalities, the changelings again, the changelings a third time, Starlight Glimmer, Starlight Glimmer again and again and again and-”

The heliotrope unicorn rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Pinkie!” Twilight half-shouted, half-chided. It calmed the pink menace down, at least temporarily. “I was talking about Fizzlepop Berrytwist!”

“Starlight Glimmer and the changelings... Hey, I was getting there!” Pinkie Pie claimed, huffing as she squatted down in her seat.

My puzzled expression must have demanded an explanation from my counterpart. “You see,” she says while holding up the piece of paper in her raspberry aura, “long story short, we were attacked, and the primary antagonist was a unicorn who went by the name ‘Commander Tempest’.” She said the name with a tremble in her voice, though her smile belied any actual fear.

“Twilight, darling, she doesn’t need the whole story,” Rarity said, as politely as one can when they interrupt a potentially hours-long tale.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Fine. I was trying to decide who would be in charge of rehabilitating this pony, but she ended up going on an independent study course.” She held up the paper. “There were a lot of candidates.” She glanced around the room, gaze lingering on each pony in turn.

“Please not me,” pleads Rainbow Dash in a quiet voice, hooves clasped together. “Please not me, please not me…”

Rarity idly flipped a lock of mane.

Fluttershy slowly dipped down until only her eyes stared up from below the table.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie sported twin smug looks, confident they wouldn’t be chosen for some magical mischief maker.

The last two unicorns exchanged smirks, their withers flexing as if readying to trot forward.

Twilight’s brow narrowed, but she continued regardless. “Since you’re looking to study Friendship, I think Rarity would be the best candidate.”

“Me?” Rarity exclaimed, her voice shaking. The other two unicorns looked shocked at not being chosen. “I thought Principal Starlight Glimmer would be the best choice.”

“Really?” Rainbow Dash deadpanned. “The same pony who mind controlled us as part of her Friendship lessons?”

I stood a little straighter at that revelation, biting my inner cheek hard and bringing whatever mental barriers I could conceive into being. I felt no different than before, but theorized that mental influence would be impossible to detect from within.

“Precisely,” Twilight agreed with a slight grimace. “Her idea of the scientific method does tend to skip straight to the madcap experiment. Not exactly the best partner to pair with somepony inclined to experimental frenzies. And - trust me - I know me.”

The heliotrope pony I assumed to be Starlight Glimmer gave a conceding shrug.

Rarity hunkered down a little more, glancing at the azure unicorn. “Trixie?”

“Remember what she was like during the teaching lessons when you were looking for a vice headmare?” Spike said, crossing his arms. “Unless you like the idea of giving Miss Midnight here unbridled reign of your library for the conceivable future.”

My eyes must have betrayed my eagerness at such a suggestion because the impatient scratch of a quill came immediately after.

“Um,” Rarity frowned, her eyes flicking wildly. “Princess Celestia? Luna?” Her voice strained. “Cadance?”

“Retired, retired, busy,” Pinkie Pie rattled off like she knew exactly what everypony was up to, and the approaching train wreck had only one destination.

“Sunburst?” Rarity rubbed her hoof against her chin. “Actually, he probably should have been at the top of the list!”

“Except, unless I have drastically misread myself,” Twilight interjected, “Miss Midnight will not be satisfied with theoretical discussions.”

“I would not,” I conceded as Twilight’s piercing eyes strayed on me.

“But,” Rarity stammered, “I-I don’t know, I’m terribly busy with classes and my shops and...”

“So bring her along,” Twilight said with a motion toward me. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy seeing how Generosity plays a part in your everyday life!”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Rarity slowly stated as she calmly drew herself up, pointedly staring at Twilight and carefully enunciating every word. “But I. Hate. Lists.”

I gasped; how could anypony hate something as innocent and helpfully efficient as a list?

“Don’t be silly,” Twilight said immediately. “You love lists.”

Rarity sighed, left with nothing after her bluff was called.

“And your cutie mark!” Pinkie Pie pointed at the glowing set of three teal diamonds and a yellow sun orbiting above Ponyville. “It’s a Friendship Mission! You have to go!”

“Very well,” Rarity said, drawing herself up. “If the map decides, then I must be the best choice.” She cocked her head at the sun. “But what is… Mayor Sunny Skies?... doing here?”

“He knows a lot about magic,” Twilight said, though her carefully controlled mask suggested there was more to this story that she didn’t want me hearing. “I’ll send word to Hope Hollow. In the meantime, Rarity, could you give Midnight a tour of the school?”

“Why do I get the feeling this tour will only visit one location,” Rarity deadpanned.

“The library?” I asked, my voice loaded with anticipation. Would it really be this easy to learn about the Magic of Friendship?

“The library,” Rarity agreed. She trotted through the double doors, only briefly glancing back to make sure I was following.

I did, of course, glad to be out of that tribunal and eager to learn. “It feels strange,” I admitted as I quickly overtook the unicorn, “to have power and know nothing about how to use it. Or anything about it, really.”

“...Yes, I suppose it would,” Rarity replied as we stepped out of the crystal castle and trotted to the school at water’s edge.

Author's Note

31 / 54

Discard Two

The school reminded me of home, with dozens of faces of every color milling about in their cliques. The primary difference, of course, being the variety of shapes: there were six distinct kinds of creatures that I passed in one hallway alone! A plated rootwalla; a fledgling griffin; a razor taloned hippogryph; an earth-origin yak; a morphling, given how her shape changed at will; and an ordinary pony. I wanted to further catalog each one, if only to sate my curious obsession. Alas, time spiraled ever onward, and I had an ongoing investigation to conduct.

We arrived at the library in short order. It was smaller than I expected for a school with such an enlightened patron wizard, though I appreciated the entirely normal armchairs filled by ponies studying. I couldn’t help but notice the multitude of heads turning to regard us, the endless whispers, and the six daring apprentices from before doing a poor job concealing their shadowing.

We passed row after row of suspicious bookcases stacked to the ceiling with thick cartouches containing every topic under the sun. Cartography, history, ancient artifacts, thaumatics, each topic more engrossing than the last! Sadly, my compulsive search was delayed again as Rarity baited me inside a private study room with a spellbook like I was some sort of libratog, my instilled furor at scouring through my first tome impossible to contain.

The room was spacious enough, with chairless desks forming neat, orderly lines. Amply supplied chalkboards ringed windowless walls. With an idle thought I conjured paper and pencil, the tip sharp enough to pierce through the apprentice level book. I eagerly stood in the front row, more than ready to pick the unicorn’s brain and leave the book devouring for later.

The door closed with a soft click as Rarity hummed to herself, tidying up the corners. I half expected her to slap the erasers together to the beat of some imagined tune. Once everything was in place she gracefully spun to the front of the room and half-stated, half-sang,

“The more you know how things are done,
The better equipped you’ll be.
There’s more to learn than shocks and stuns.
And there’s no better teacher than me~e~e!

Rarity!

And once you learn the pony way
you’ll start to fi~i~it right in!”

“I was hoping to learn more about this,” I interrupted what was likely a two minute song as I held up the book. My horn thrummed, whirling my pencil like a dervish. It blew her purple mane back, cheeks puffing out comically. “And other such magics.”

It took a considerable amount of concentration, more than I was able to keep up without respite. Even so, I was amazed at my ability; was this the apex of my power, attained without effort? I refused to believe so. What potential might be achieved by combining knowledge and power?

“Why am I not surprised,” Rarity deadpanned as her mane flickered back into place. She sighed as she strode to the chalkboard, then stopped and stared for a moment. “And while my training might not be as formal as, say, Twilight’s, or even Trixie’s, I am familiar with the basics.” She inspected the colors of chalk in front of her, leaving all the browns and greens untouched.

I gave what I hoped was an encouraging smile. I had more than my share of instructors whom I surpassed, and it would be no fault of her own if that was the case yet again.

“Magic,” she began as six different colors of chalk simultaneously levitated to the chalkboard behind her, “also known as Thaumatics, is divided into six categories. Each is named after an Element of Harmony. They are rough separations, and it is not uncommon for a particular spell to twine two together.”

A grim reminder. If these Elements of Harmony were the same ones Daydream Shimmer tapped just before she defeated me? It would behoove me to learn all that I could.

“Honesty-” orange chalk scrawled an apple underneath the word in the top right of the board “-deals with information. Observation, such as scrying. Distribution, spells that send or receive information. Verification, or truth detection.”

My expressive ears pricked at the last one, given my… constraints. Was it like this for each aspect of magic? She continued before I could comment on how trusting these ponies were. Perhaps it was a test, to see if there was some angry, wrathful falcon gorging its brains out and they might tempt it out from under the floorboards with an enticing lure. Like… a spellbook.

“I, myself, am an Honesty specialist. My cutie mark,” Rarity motioned to the three glowing gemstones on her flank, “relates to gem detection. Most Honesty spells tend to come easily to me.”

My own ‘cutie mark’ was an eight pointed magenta star, different from the six pointed white and magenta stars I observed on Twilight Sparkle. Did it have some special significance, having to do with magic?

A thick orange line separated what she had just written from a hollow outline of an apple. “The converse of Honesty is Deceit and deals with spells that conceal, illusions, and cryptics.”

“Deceit is not seen as evil?” I asked neutrally, carefully considering everything she said.

Her muzzle pulled tight. “Not as such,” she hedged, scrutinizing me carefully. “Though specialists in that area are often regarded with more suspicion than others.”

Suspicion? That’s it? I scoffed internally as I nodded along, brain already storming through possibilities. This broad overview barely scratched the surface! Only an exhaustive search might sift through and reveal the unexpected potentials.

“Generosity,” she continued as purple chalk drew a single diamond, similar to her flank, on the bottom right of the board, “focuses on external energy. It is the field most associated with pegasi due to their command of storms and lightning. The converse, Greed, focuses on internal changes. Earth pony magic and healing magics are often considered Greed magic, despite generally being cast on others, as are growth spells.”

I silently observed, focusing on how Rarity effortlessly moved the chalk around. While the motions came easily I couldn’t help but delve deeper, trying to figure out the underpinnings. Honesty and Deceit shared a theme; I had a harder time drawing the connection between Generosity and Greed, other than a naming convention. ‘Energy’ seemed like too generic a term. Perhaps their magic, their ‘energy’, was as malleable as a physical organ? I flipped the first page, my notes already full of speculation.

There was a strange feeling bubbling inside me. I could not tell if it was a byproduct of the magic infused within or merely an inclination to reciprocate… generously towards my benefactors. Principal Cinch had to cajole me into joining their Friendship Games, but here?

The door opened abruptly, my implement of improvement snapping to a standstill. A medium blue unicorn stallion with a two tone gray and white mane forced his way between the yak and hippogryph to get inside.

“Hello!” he greeted chipperly, shooting Rarity a fond smile.

“Hello,” Rarity returned demurely, a hoof batting back her mane. “You must have been in the area.”

“Oh, yeah, been meaning to thank all’a y’all for what ya did for Hope Hollow. Happened to be in town when this started going blinky!” He motioned to his pulsing cutie mark of a yellow sun. For myself he reserved a cautious, if optimistic, grin. “Just came in today, did’ja?”

“Yes,” I replied curtly. His cheer, while infectious, represented a gleaming barrier to learning I did not appreciate. Or would he help me sort fact from fiction?

“And already needing a Friendship Lesson? You must be as welcome as a pack of parasprites at a Filly Guide bake sale!” He chuckled at his own joke, my unamused expression lost. “Oh, look at me fergettin’ ta introduce myself. Name’s Sunny Skies, mayor of Hope Hollow! Pleased’ta meet’cha!”

He held his hoof up expectantly, grinning all the while.

“Likewise,” I returned, uncomfortably bumping his hoof with my own after a moment’s hesitation. “Midnight Sparkle.”

“Eerie,” he said as the reflection of my billowing mane danced in his eyes. His gaze rested on my necklace, and I had half a mind to remind him that my eyes were located a foot higher, if only to have said the phrase once in my life. “You sound just like her.”

“We were just going over the categories of magic,” Rarity explained, motioning to the chalkboard. She gave him a soft smile, the slightest flick of her mane beckoning him toward her.

“Oo! Ya got to Friendship yet?” Sunny Skies asked earnestly, a swift trot taking him to the board. “That’s what these fine fillies helped me with! Well, in a way.”

“You had a problem with Friendship?” I asked, intrigued. Accumulated first-hoof knowledge of the primary subject in which I was interested? I supposed I could welcome him to the fold, as long as he did not prove a fleeting distraction.

“Oh, yeah! Like you wouldn’t believe!” Sunny Skies chuckled self-deprecatingly. “You see, as the mayor of Hope Hollow, I was in charge of the Rainbow Festival, and we drew in ponies from all over! We were the happiest, friendliest town there ever was. Well, at least, until things started going downhill.”

“What happened?” I asked as he faltered.

“At first?” he continued, sighing to himself. He softly sang, a slow and entrancing melody,

“It never really seemed like much, when all it takes is a simple touch.
Lending a cup became a chore, no more chats with your neighbor.
Fences went up, we lost track; soon, there was no turning back.
Friendships faded, feelings were down. Soon, nopony had time for our town.”

He ended with a solemn motion to Rarity, his head bowed,

“The Rainbow Generator did a rope’s worth of pushin’.
Hopelessness stalked, a wolf set on ambushin’.
None noticed as colors faded, no more time to share.
We found an end to the Rainbow, hope turning to despair.”

Rarity sang back, her tempo upbeat,

“Against the darkness, we had to fight!
Why just be black and white?
No need to hide all the colors inside!”

They both joined together, harmonizing perfectly, “We’ll be living in color!”

I pondered, as they devolved into fond chuckles and wiped tears, the implications of their lyrical tale. The loss of Friendship resulted in physical manifestations that they were unaware of? And the restoration of their Friendship likewise restored their color? A fascinating phenomenon, to say the least. What other manifold insights could be found?

“Loyalty,” Rarity continued, trying to get back on track as red chalk drew a lightning bolt in the top center, “enhances or modifies attributes already present. Betrayal, or Disregarding, adds abilities not present. An example would be a cloud-walking spell that allows an earth pony or unicorn to, as the name suggests, walk on clouds.”

I frowned as I tapped my pencil, poring over the pages. Disregarding didn’t sound negative at all! It seemed like a natural extension of magic, in fact, paradoxical as that sounds. What was the converse of Friendship? Hopelessness? Despair? Did I miss that part in the song? Or would I need to delve to reach these secrets they keep?

“Kindness,” pink chalk drew a butterfly in the top left, “is all about the mind. Uplifting, cheer, mental restoration. Its converse, Malevolence, deals with changing a pony’s mental state, or altering egos. Enchantments.” Rarity’s eyes narrowed as she focused on me, impossible to misread her tone. “One of the more restricted areas of magic.”

“Mm,” I grunted. I was no hypnotic siren beguiling wills, or Sunset Shimmer slaving minds. Except…

I frowned at the abundance of ways to twist allegiances. Could you manipulate the masses in the same way? I made a mental note to privately research this perilous foray. It seemed a glaring weakness, if nothing else, one that should be tested if only to get a better idea of how to bolster their defenses.

Rarity took another long look at me, like she sensed a portent of my betrayal, before she drew a blue balloon in the bottom left. “Laughter specializes in shields and other protective magic. Reality - Principal Starlight Glimmer’s specialty - dispels, dispenses, or otherwise disperses with magic.” Her harsh scrutiny intensified.

I completely disregarded it. Confidence and optimism were never my weak suits, nor was taking a hatchet to my own work. “And Friendship?” I asked, a surge of zeal entering my voice.

A spin to face the chalkboard failed to hide her grimace. Magenta etched a six pointed star in the center. “Teleportation, telekinesis, and other conjurations.” She motioned to my pencil. “And you seem to have a grasp on that already.”

“If’n’ya couldn’t’a guessed, it’s my specialty, too!” Sunny Skies exclaimed giddily, blinding light reflecting off his teeth.

I inspected my pencil, then my own mark. If Friendship was this Twilight’s specialty? A smirk crossed my muzzle. “Is it the most powerful of magics?”

“Oh, ya! Definitely!” Sunny Skies gave Rarity an apologetic grin, the corners of his muzzle pulling tight. “Not that the others aren’t important!”

“I would have said,” Rarity returned, her voice hard but not derisive, “that it is only when all the Elements of Harmony work together that they are the strongest.”

A hoof scratched at my chin as I studied the chalkboard. Each Element, working together? Yes, strength of unity might cover the weaknesses of the other, working together toward a common cause.

“And what is the opposite of Friendship?” I glanced down at my notes. “Hatred?”

“Not as such,” Rarity explained uneasily. “That would be more Greed, or Malevolence, depending on the reasons behind it.”

“Like a Wendigo,” Sunny Skies supplied. At my twist of head he continued, “They’re creatures.” He paused as if the word meant something descriptive. I kept staring. “Born of cold and hate, and they appear when ponies’ hearts are filled with the same.”

Rarity glanced at me curiously, head cocking to the side just slightly as if she was trying to peer into my soul. “Is there somepony, or something, that you hate?”

“N…” I started, frowning as my muzzle clamped shut all on its own. Did I hate Sunset Shimmer for what she had nearly done? I did not think so; there must be something else. I carefully considered my next words. “I am a scientist,” I stated neutrally. “If there is anything I hate, it is ignorance.” I motioned to the board, my heart swelling with ardor. “I wish to learn more of Friendship!”

My mind reeled, like a weird vampire driven mad by the scent of blood. I had to know! As if my very existence was owed to this obsession, a choice made not during some psychotic episode but from a true desire, one I would not let slip from my grasp! “And, if anything, prove that Friendship is the greatest power in existence!”

“Prove?” Rarity asked, her eyebrows raising. “How would one prove that Friendship is more powerful than Apathy?” She glances back at her board. “Or any of the other Elements?”

Apathy? The opposite of caring about something was not caring? Understandable, if trite.

Unbidden, my mind began drawing connections between the Elements: Honesty to Kindness, to Generosity, to Loyalty, to Laughter, back to Honesty, surrounding and encapsulating Friendship with every connection.

“Especially because we saw that happen in Hope Hollow,” Sunny Skies added.

“Hardly a rigorous test,” I countered, shaking my head and clearing the equations from my mind’s eye. “A true scientist sets her hypothesis against the strongest arguments she can. And it is meaningless unless it can withstand repeated evaluations.”

“Like when Chrysalis, Tirek, and Cozy Glow attacked all of Equestria?” Rarity deadpanned, her already long face stretching to the longest pout I had ever seen.

Like a stroke of genius it struck me, a malevolent whisper that might prove the perfect opportunity.

“Black!” Rarity shouted, her horn flaring. Her attempt to anchor me to reality was turned to dust, and she was fortunate her flesh did not follow. She hunkered down, her thoughts dampened, and shrieked, “Code black!” as reinforcements forced the door open.

I barely even registered how I had quashed her attempt to imprison me, and I surely did not wish to allow a repeat performance. With a thought I brought myself to Twilight’s throne room, slipping through mystic barriers as if they were designed for me. I stood before the circular map. I could feel the power coursing through it, connecting each and every pony. I scoured my mind; I needed something potent, yet not so egregious that anypony might fight it.

A wicked smirk crossed my muzzle as my horn lit, casting the entire room into a deep magenta. I had listened to them too many times, these words of power, that I recited from memory. I let the echoes in the otherwise empty room wash over me, a solemn simulacrum of the Rainboom’s performance.

“Don’t need to hear a crowd,
Cheering out my name.
I didn’t come here seeking
infamy or fame.
The one and only thing,
That I am here to bring
Is music, is the music,
Is the music in my soul!

Let it break out!”

I slammed my hooves into the table with an earth-shaking Kaboom! The castle shook, the trinkets above swaying ominously. Six colors of magic entwined together before their essence drained into a colorless gray.

“It’s coming,” I muttered.

It plunged into the map, spiderwebs of darkness withering every corner. I could feel the magic already taking hold, and yet… I couldn’t seem to care.

“What have you doing?” shouted Rarity from the entryway. Sunny Skies slunk behind her, aghast. She kept in front of him protectively. Twilight Sparkle hovered above, eyes wide and shining white, mouth gaping.

“Did you see the elegance?” I motioned towards the once prismatic strands. “Deceit, not meant what you say. Greed, affecting yourself. Disregarding, an ability not present. Malevolence, a mental effect. And Reality, will bypass any defenses.” I grinned. “And Apathy.”

“Really?” Rarity said, frowning. “I will not feel any different.” Her frown deepened, pulling at the corners of her muzzle as she inspected her body.

“Do you had any idea what you will do?” Twilight demanded, gritting her teeth. She shook her head, as if that might shake the enchantment laid upon her.

“It will falsify my hypothesis,” I said, enthralled by my creation. “And we learn if Friendship truly will be the most powerful magic.”

“But your spell!” Twilight shouted, snarling. “Nopony uses the intended tenses!” She stamped a hoof, her horn flaring. “I can’t spoke right!”

I could see the steam jets preparing to blast from her ears while she pawed at her eyelids.

“Of all the times to start Twilighted,” Rarity muttered.

“You can’t even said ‘will Twilight!’ correctly!” Twilight snapped. She took a deep breath, eyes closed yet still fuming. “I gone to the Princesses!” She grit her teeth before trying again, “I go to the Princesses!” Before correcting herself a second time her horn flared a bright magenta and she disappeared with a flash.

“Honestly?” Sunny Skies said cautiously, slowly coming out from behind Rarity. He raised a hoof, his medium blue slightly grayer. “It don’t seem that bad.”

Author's Note

42/55

Thanks to Estee for the spell idea.

Or an Artifact, or Two Cards Which May or May Not Be Artifacts, and if You Really Want to You Can Discard Two Artifacts

Rarity nervously circled around the table, the animosity she shared with her compatriot plainly displayed like I was some archfiend of spite. Her horn remained unlit, always watching my every move. I could hardly blame her guarded nature, that fear of repercussion should she attempt anything, yet admired her courage to continue without her more powerful ally present. Sunny Skies slunk behind her, fascinated gaze continuously darting toward the map.

“Why?” Rarity demanded, her bloodied distemper perhaps allayed because I was taking no other actions. She swept her hoof across the cursed land, blighted woodlands and rugged highlands slowly losing hope as their well drains of color. “Why will act so?”

Her demand did not dignify a response; thus, I did not supply one. I continued studying the magic I had wrought. I could already see ways to improve the spell, to spread the sickness further and faster. And, as a shocker, Sunny Skies had pulled his own piece of paper out and was taking notes, though he was inventing ways to invert the magic. A thin smirk crossed my muzzle; I would certainly rise to the challenge of upping the ante of this mages’ contest to a rivals’ duel.

“Circular logic?” Rarity continued without waiting, contemplating aloud. “A fool’s cursed wisdom? Or will a certain Discordant spirit has been behind this?”

My smirk curled to a frown. What did the President have to do with anything?

Her head dipped down, craning awkwardly to peer into my eyes. “No, even he will have the sense not to attempted something so monumentally idiotic a second time. If only because it be ‘unoriginal’.” She spat the words out with obvious disdain.

Perhaps this ‘Discord’ should have revised his contentious plans instead of discarding them. But what did I know of well-laid plans?

“You wanted to know why?” I said as I spun around, striding toward her. From memory I created a crystal copy of my artifact, the one I had used to obtain Equestrian Magic in the first place. “This… this magic that you will possess. Did you know what it meant?”

Rarity nearly misstepped backing up as my rant intensified.

“It represented anything! Everything! Power beyond the laws of nature, of space and time!” I held up my transformed hoof. “Healing salves, regrowth of life and limb!” I swept that hoof toward the opening double doors and the dozen or so creatures streaming inside. Each of their bodies was slightly grayer than earlier. “You will want to know why I unleashed the magic, why I tempted fate so? I didn’t will do it for those so-called friends, that they might accepted me if I went along with their game plan and won their feral contest!”

Though I could hardly call her my evil twin, the harsh judgement on my body double’s face was unmistakable. The others spread out, none yet advancing. Two big game hunters, wavy manes suspiciously similar to Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna, had joined the ranks of Twilight’s friends and the daring apprentices.

I rose from the floor, forsaken body drifting underneath me like I was still in my human form. “I done it because I will know this giant opportunity would be totally lose if I did not took it! That I would be spent years will languish while-” I scoffed the word “-experts in banalities charted a course! If I even get the opportunity to have studying it! I has to take it!”

“Couldn’t Sunset have write to Twilight?” Rainbow Dash interrupted brashly. “And then you could has gotten a real Equestrian arcanist?”

I grit my teeth. Despite the inclination to Apathy I found the wrong tenses needling. “In hindsight,” I conceded, “and if I has knowing of the existence of the planar portal.” I closed my eyes as I shook my head. “I am fully prepared, initially, to fought and rip apart the very fabric of reality in order to be learning these arcane teachings.”

“Begged your pardon?” Sunny Skies cut in, his voice shaking with worry. “I’m… not quite sure you will stop.”

“What?” I demanded as I spun.

He shuddered as his hoof pointed at the small port town where two cutie marks still danced on the wind. “You don’t turn just one area into a bastion of Apathy. Your spell turned the entire country colorless!” He motioned across the map. “Starting with Ponyville!”

I nodded, the effects of my shifting spell plain to me.

Twilight laughed, the sound hideous. “You don’t get it, did you?” She shook her head as Celestia and Luna drew up behind her. “Windigos, the product of Malevolence. Parasprites, from Greed. Do you will know what vile manifestation Apathy creates?”

The twisted image of her smirk brought me second thoughts. As if on cue the castle rumbled, as if some great colossus was hammering at the very foundation. And succeeding. Blood drained from my face like color from the halls, and I briefly wished a priest might grant me penance.

Everycreature crowded the crystal windows, hoping to witness the end.

“It will appear,” Celestia’s soothsaying voice lilted, silk wrapped around tempered steel, “that the stars again aided an escape.” Her eyes met mine, harsh scrutiny I could not withdraw from. “Though a blanket of eternal night might be survived, instead of being scour from existence by these abominations.”

“Should we again became Nightmare?” the Heir to the Night mused, a hoof rubbing at her muzzle.

“If your Night’s Soul betrayed us again,” Celestia rebuked, “then you shall played customer service to the coastal wizards during their ultimate nightmare.”

Luna rolled her eyes petulantly.

“But,” Celestia conceded, “if these invaders were who I suspected they will be, I shall… open the armory.”

Luna grinned like an eager cadet, hooves tapping merrily as she broke into a happy dance that spilled shadows in every direction.

“Perhaps,” Twilight said diplomatically, “we should focused on our defensive formations?”

“Against what?” the furnace whelp demanded as she idly spit a burst of flame.

The castle rocked again as the terrain outside roiled, the earth cracking into crevasses. Dozens of skittering invaders burst forth from the broken ground. Each was short and squat, the size of a young foal, and moved with a unity of purpose on tentacled limbs. The gorged on anything nearby, insatiable like a pack of parasprites, and once they devoured enough split open only for more hideous beings to emerge.

It was what was behind them, a glimpse of the unthinkable, that removed any shadow of doubt that my - while not strictly pure, but certainly not malicious - intentions had made a truly dangerous wager.

The sire, a massive gray eldritch abomination, ponderously wrest itself from the earth. Every rippling surge retched another from its abundant maw as house-sized chunks of gray flesh unearthed themselves. Then it opened even wider, all manner of horrors about to burst forth, before a trick of Starlight’s horn bound its maw shut.

“Oh,” the chastised whelp said as a deranged grin flashed rows of dagger-like teeth. “Excellent.”

“Sister,” Celestia commanded with an aura of righteous authority as ethereal barding solidified around her flanks. “We shall held them at bay.”

“We will ride as one,” the Cavalier of Night replied as Starlight Glimmer gifted colorless runes to her withers. Two swords that Trixie painted green snapped to her sides, one dripping frozen flames while the other cast shadows of light.

“Twilight,” Celestia continued, “Counter their efforts to destroy everycreature, and save the land from what damage you can!”

Twilight laughed to herself as she flicked her hooves against her face.

“For the rest of you?” the Dawnbringer grinned as dozens more equipment phased in.

Time stretched as every mare surged into action. I wish I could tell the tale - of Luna’s dread charge into the grand melee, how Trixie’s occult storms and fireballs channeled at reckless wurms were redirected to drubbs born of muck, but that saga would have to wait as my attention was pulled elsewhere.

“Midnight,” Sunny Skies said plaintively. He stood on two legs to gently tug at my hoof. “Don’t’cha know, but we’ll be needed to stop this pernicious deed of yours.” He grinned at catching my attention. “We’ll get her fixed right in a jiffy!”

Dazed, I nodded. “If only it is that easy,” I said as I drifted to the table, mulling over options. “How do we unravel the æther components?”

“Alright, what if we’ll start at the beginning?” Sunny Skies trotted to the table, hopping up to get a better vantage point. He held up my crystal copy. “What made up Apathy?”

“What?” I said, confused and infuriated for the first time as to somepony’s meaning due to the change in tenses.

“Apathy. Description.” A blue hoof motioned toward the graying town, his enthusiasm unbounded. “More than colorless. Just nothing?”

“A lack of verbs?” I chuckled. “A solution.”

“If only.” He shook his head. “A workaround. Clumsier’n me’n Petunia.” He motioned again. “Apathy. These creatures outside, they not there before. They will appear from nothing.”

I nodded, beginning to see his point. “They come from nothing. They go to nothing?”

The corners of his muzzle turned up. “Then we just needed a way to send them back.”

I frowned as he grabbed a crescent shaped wrench from Celestia’s armory and began assembling a circular contraption. “What was that?”

“Ya knew. Not everycreature came by balloon.” He poked a hoof at me. “Some will come by way o’ erratic portal. This here prototype portal’ll send ‘em packin’ like sugar’n apricots!”

The individual components he amassed gave away the structure of the arcane dynamo. “You will realize the power we’ll need to sink into this, yes?”

“Eeyup,” he muttered as he bit at his lip, horn grafting five different colored shards along the fateful wheel.

“More than anycreature could provided.” I glanced around for some powerstone that might be used, some empowered autogenerator that could eventually get us there.

“Not to mention,” he said acerbically as he hammered another piece into place, “that we’ll be needin’ to stopper up your little creation at the same time.” He cranked hard, the whole device whirring and blinking. “But I think this little puppy’ll work, right?” He tapped it, and the whole thing shook like it might fall apart at any moment. His nervous grin stretched a little wider.

I did a double take. You’d have to be a madstallion to create such a device and believe it would work. “You think you can use…”

“The power of the Elements?” He tapped the wrench against his skull, lost in thought.

Rarity, who had been standing at the opening everycreature had charged through, horn lit and neutralizing the blasts outside, spun around. Her face lit from within. “Now, if only we had not one, but two sets of Bearers…”

She trotted outside the opening and whistled loudly enough to draw Twilight’s attention. The arcane savant swooped down, barely able to listen as lightning blasted everywhere.

“I need the Elements!” the diamond mare yelled. “All twelve!”

“Celestia!” Twilight thought, the voice echoing in all our heads. “Can you cover everypony?”

The crested sunmare, flying high above the battlefield, nodded. “I shall give no ground!” she bellowed, and it seemed like every spawn and scion and drone could do nothing but focus on her.

Twilight concentrated for a moment, horn flaring, and the other ten creatures blinked to her side. Fluttershy startled, nearly dropping the sword twice as big as her, while a battle-mad Rainbow looked ready to lop off anycreature that so much as moved.

“Everycreature!” Sunny Skies shouted as he levitated the circular door outside. “Focus on your Elements!” He flung it as far as he could, and it scattered a cloud of dust on landing. My crystal copy ended up in the center.

The twelve closed their eyes, calmly holding up their forelegs as they rose from the ground. From each came a beam of color, directed right at the door. It seemed like something only an imbecile would do, the circular artifact opening a hole into the void.

A flurry of color came, mostly blues and greens, as Starlight Glimmer, Trixie, and Luna disallowed any attempt to repudiate or stifle our ending this tale. It was more than I could keep track of, blasts of spellwork nullifying each other while showers of sparks sprayed everywhere.

The twelve dropped down as the circular door hovered up. There was no back, just a void, and into that the first of the spawn flew through. One after another they came, impotent to avoid their fate, the more massive audibly crunching to fit through the pony sized portcullis. It was unnerving, the slick and slurping of ichor as they compacted. And that I could so easily have done the same to these, these, these friends, and might have done so to those back home. Had wanted to do so. I sobbed, a reclusive wreck, hiding my face like a gorgon unwilling to petrify.

And then, everything went silent and still. High above, a second sun rose above the horizon, bits and pieces of ruined structures melding themselves back together as the terrain smoothed out.

“Was it all wistful thinking?” I mourned, head bowed and eyes clenched shut. I could hear the others gathering around me, their hoofsteps slow and unsure. I stammered, “To truly know, I had to become it.”

“But you lost yourself in the process,” Rarity finished, her voice quiet. She knelt beside me, a reassuring hoof resting on my withers.

I nodded glumly, glancing up through tearful eyes.

“You think Friendship brings you power,” she stated, her pitying gaze never straying. “And it does. But it does so much more than that.” She glanced back, pausing on each of her friends. Her muzzle curled to a smirk as each of them met her gaze and smiled back. “And I know just who to send you to.”

With the slightest of smiles she stepped back, allowing Twilight Sparkle to step forward. My counterpart knelt down, her hoof caressing my sagging mane. “I can’t do this alone,” she said quietly. “It isn’t something we can force on you. It will need your help, your dedication, to flourish.”

“I understand,” I whispered.

My horn joined hers, and in the blink of an eye I found myself where my story began.

Clad in an opalescent white and pink dress, two illuminating golden wings spread wide and a two foot long ethereal white horn jutting out from her forehead, Daydream Shimmer looked not overjoyed at defeating me after our prolonged magical duel but resigned.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Her soft voice echoed among the heavy fog. “Take my hand.”

I grimaced as I clenched my fist to my chest, tucking my head down. The coercive portal was underneath, beckoning. Would it loop me back again? That I might find some way to get them to do Midnight's bidding?

Or was it true? Would they, these six friends, really accept me? And forgive me for what I had done?

Daydream Shimmer merely levitated another few inches closer, patiently waiting for me. “Let me show you there’s another way.” She gave me a small, knowing smile. “Just like someone once did for me.”

I bit back the tears welling in my eyes as I thrust forward, her hand a blazing warmth against my chilling grasp.

Author's Note

Chapter Title: also known as OAAOTCWMOMNBAAIYRWTYCDTA. Sorry FoME, I had to. The original title was 'Or an Artifact'

53/53 madness cards. I don't want to count how many other cards allusions there are. If people really want, I might write out the final battle, but it didn't fit this, and I would definitely have to include a crossover tag. I still might, especially if it's an epilogue chapter or something.