Checklist: check.
Letter from the princess confirming the order: check.
Invoice: check.
Train ticket: check.
Number one assistant: check.
Those were the essentials, anyway.
"Earth to Miss Twilight?"
She started with a jolt, banging her horn against the top of the cabinet. Steam whistled through her teeth. "Yes, yes?"
A little earthen filly, ruddy brown in demeanor and inflamed of mane, offered up her tribute. "I wanted to bring this back to the library."
Crystal Broadcasting for Dummies was the tome. Smelt vaguely of grapefruit, for some reason.
Standard fare for budding speaksponies.
She took stock of the little one. Cornflower, wasn't it?
"You're three days early, but alright!" Her saddlebags flipped open, casting a small slip of parchment over to her patron. "I took the liberty of making recommendations for further reading. Just remember to fill out the log if you take anything."
Twilight was already breaking for the door when a question nipped at her ears. "Miss Twilight, are you not goin' to be around for the day?"
She shrugged, tilting her head back. "I need to pick up an important package in Canterlot. It's a surprise."
"Hope it's a good'un."
Twilight blinked blearily at the thickheaded clinician. The glasses fixed slightly askew on her face. The lenses flashed in the light. She broke a smile.
“Well, Ms. Sparkle, I’d say you’re good to go!” said Dr. Dry Eyes. He clapped a hoof to her back, rattling her diminutive frame.
As quickly as clarity was granted, he stole it away. “Oh, just noticed the problem there. Let me fix it for you.”
He turned away, leaving Twilight to examine the slightly crumpled pamphlet on the desk. Her violet aura snatched it away, unfolding it before her eyes. She pursed her lips. Awfully dated.
Hello! You are now the new owner of a pair of
Down To Earth Technologies, Inc.
Compu-Scry Spectacles
Our magitech network interfaces with your thaumatical system, regardless of race, to allow for cutting-edge networking and word processing.
New Aethernet connections are few and far between, but with this pilot program, we hope to create brand new networks with Scry users. Each pair of Compu-Scry Spectacles can directly interface with any unit within 300 feet.
If you’ve used a DTE Compu-Scry terminal before, then you’ll find the user experience to be almost identical!
(user manual inc. in box)
"Uh, it says there’s a manual?” she asked.
Spectacles, free of taint, were pressed back onto her nose. The doctor frowned. “This was a rush job, Ms. Sparkle. You might want to ask the Princess to ask the company to maybe send me a pair, with, I don’t know, the packaging?”
He pushed some other pieces of paper on the desk noncommittally.
“This is all they sent.”
Another pamphlet about other DTE products, some ad for an expo in Manehattan, and..
“A Certificate of Authenticity?” The handwritten slip proclaimed Twilight Sparkle was User #493! Neat?
She rummaged in her saddle bags, eventually proffering a satchel of bits. He frowned, pushing it away. “Ma’am, Princess Celestia insisted that she would personally bankroll this for you. I can’t take your money.”
The unicorn bobbed her head in understanding. “Well, still.” Her hooves scratched the floor as she shuffled out. “I get to come back if there’s a problem, right?”
He let out a hearty laugh, his own spectacles jostling on his face. “Oh, of course. Of course. Have a good day, Ms. Sparkle.”
“You too, doctor.”
Spike hopped to his feet, padding quickly to Twilight’s side. The dragon's eyes sparked in interest of something only marginally more important than the latest geek fancy. Er, comic books, that is.
“Gee, Twilight!” he said. “Those sure are some snazzy new glasses.”
Twilight’s vision broke. As soon as she had left, her senses had been assaulted by information. The interface in this device was constantly scanning and presenting her with information. Spike: dragon. Canterlot: town. Map: present. Hobnobbers: abound. Who was Mister Moneybags? She didn’t know, and she didn’t feel like it was altogether important.
“I know, it’s a bit dorky.” The thick frames drooped when she lowered her head to him. “But I’m lucky Princess Celestia decided to approve this. Thaumotech is very expensive.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he waved her off. “A bajillion bits or something. We both know she’ll do anything to keep her number one student happy.”
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes on the road ahead.
She kinda wanted to splurge on a chariot, maybe pull a few strings. But this wasn’t a rush job. The train would do. Just might be a couple extra hours.
The sun shimmered high in the sky as they left the station. Twilight’s magic plucked at the glasses, even though Spike was trying his best to chip at her tunnel vision.
It was almost a snap of his talon before they were rolling into Ponyville proper.
Breaking free from the microcosm of magitech was almost strenuous. There was a throbbing pressure behind her right eye as she forced herself through the shutdown process.
Step one:
Find your magical center.
For unicorns, this was rather intuitive. Plant your hooves to the ground. Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth.
Imagine your magic as a tightly clenched ball. Press that ball down.
Down, more. Scratch it along your chin. Through the fur on your belly. Tickle through your tail. Run up your back. Maybe pause to get rid of that dreadful itch.
Force that ball right behind your head. (Okay, you can go the other way top-up but this is more fun).
Step two:
Consume.
Press that down into your head. Smooth it out like peanut butter. Smear around your insides like a high quality oil. It will steam out your orifices.
The glasses flashed purple for a second, and then the glazy haze over the town faded to clear. The budding mage clenched her jaw.
I mean, what kind of absolute ass writes like that?
Rarity took it the best, she thought.
"Oh, darling. It may not be my style, but you radiate confidence with a simple bit of eyewear!" she claimed. Her front hoof tapped at the dirt. "Although, it might not hurt to have me spruce it up a bit."
Rainbow's barbs about 'peak egghead' weren't uncalled for, she admitted. A librarian -- nerd -- geek -- with glasses. Twilight's snout wiggled at half-smile. At least Fluttershy had her back on that front.
Applejack wouldn't stop giving her the eyebrow, although that was better than trying to field Pinkie's questions she couldn't hope to answer.
When there at last broke a lull in the conversation, their faithful leader spoke. "Now, now, girls." She flashed them an anxious smile. "I know it's nerdy, and expensive, and not the height of couture, but I'd rather have a nice night out with all of you. I have activities scheduled later so we can each find out what the glasses are capable of."
Rainbow Dash's face screwed up at that. "Twi, I don't care if that tells me how many records I'm breaking with every practice run I make." She smooshed her friend's nose. "Not. Cool."
Twilight suppressed a smirk. "Let's settle this over drinks, okay? My treat."
Even as Rainbow finished her seventh drink, Twilight couldn't help but smug over her glass of brandy. Really, she'd trade every experiment in the world to have Rarity and Fluttershy STOP ARGUING OVER THE BILL.
"Another one, please," Twilight said.
"Oh, me too!" chimed in Pinkie.
The night cascaded into a blur of arguments over who the better Royal Sister was, if it were better to have beers cold or room temperature, and what the correct order to apply condiments to your hayburger were. (The obvious answer, Twilight supposited, was mayonnaise first as a supportive layer on the bottom bun, and then pick and choose what to apply to the top before you added your other garnishes. To do so otherwise was to have it all squish out on the sides when you put the top on.)
They left leg-in-leg out of the bar as the night drew thick and heavy. Tummies full, legs of jelly, smiles wide. It was a good night.
Twilight almost collapsed through the front door, hornlight shimmering up the infinite, space-time contorting stairwell.
Spike tugged at her foreleg, leading the delirious pony to her bed. "Come on, Twilight," he said with the air of someone who needed a raise. "Take your medicine."
The thaumaturge choked down the little grey pills dry, hacking into her pillow. Spike plucked the glasses from her face. "These'll be here tomorrow, okay?"
She grumbled something.
"I love you too. Good night!"
And all was dark.
Teeth picked at the dried drool on her lower lip, studiously inspecting her reflection in the cooking yolks of her breakfast. Almost absentmindedly her magic picked and pried at Spike’s snack jar.
Her tongue pressed hard against her teeth as she measured out her seasoning. Although she always was liberal with the black pepper. Pound of pepper just to persevere against the elements. One need not interfere with perfection, 'recipes' be damned.
Spike never seemed to mind, but that might be that she always ate half of his breakfast and needed to start over before he woke up anyway.
“Spiiiiiiiiike! Time for breakfast!” Twilight called, struggling to not scarf down the pan before he waddled downstairs.
A draconic groan echoed down the stairs in reply. She quietly laughed to herself as she set the table.
Well, almost, anyway. Magic working on instinct, the plates almost dropped to the ground. The table was almost certainly seven hoofsteps from the front door, and this time it had moved at least fifteen. Ridiculous.
His blurry form toddled in as she slumped back on her haunches. Her tongue stuck out in a marked sign of determination, the plates drifting up from their near-miss and setting at the table with a soft clink.
It was a long silence before she spoke again, halfway through their meal:
“Spike, did I try to redecorate after last night? You know I seem to have these breakthroughs when I, uh..” She waggled a hoof back and forth. “You know.”
Claw balled in his eye to brush away sleep, he said, “Mm, I don’t think so, Twi. Why?”
“Just I almost…” She shook her head. “Nevermind.”
It drifted on in silence. It pricked at the back of her head. She felt a need for information. For learning. For, dare she say it, the joy of experimentation.
“So." Her fork hit the plate. “I’m going to take my run with Rainbow before we work today, alright? You have fun. But I expect you back before lunchtime.”
"You got it," he said, nose already half-buried in a comic. Like he was going anywhere.
My teeth ground together as the DTE launchpad clicked on. Turning this thing on and off was quickly becoming a chore.
An azure film melted through the pastel paintscape before her. Even as she beat the ground like it owed her money, the monitors in this bafflingly intricate system kept accurate count of her speed, distance, and heart rate. When she cast a spell to catch a stray apple flung high to the sky, it could play back the trace of her spell frame by frame, plotting the magic burning through the air.
Was this really the work of a simple Manehattan company?
She had never been, but she remembered Applejack emphasizing to her that it was a mostly earth pony city. DTE Technologies must have a squadron of unicorns on staff.
Almost certainly, she mused.
Rainbow was waiting as she completed her circuit, wholly lacking in gravitas as she clapped the Sparkle on the back, rejoicing in a disgusting sweaty hug.
"Hey, great job! You made better time than last week. Maybe those frames are doing something for you after all," Rainbow joshed.
"Only by five seconds," Twilight said. "But thanks for helping me with this, again. If you want, I can try to record your times myself."
Dash cackled, darting above her friend's head. "If those things can keep up, sure."
What ensued was a familiar happenstance: The pegasus completed an almost identical route to her first encounter with Twilight, albeit no clouds to stunningly obliterate.
As Twilight drew her focus sharp, the reticule on the lens identified the target with ease. It traced a spectrum of lights and waves, of gravity bowing to the reign of a most peculiar Dash. It was like viewing her through a slideshow.
Although, she noted, when Dash was at peak speed in the first portion, it had struggled to keep track of her initial movements. From that, she severely doubted that this technology could, say, record a Wonderbolts show for play-by-play analysis. Unfortunately for our aspirant superstar.
"Well?"
Maybe I shouldn't --
The glasses were wrenched from her face.
"No, no please, don't!" Rainbow Dash awkwardly scrunched the glasses onto her head, the frames too large for her face. The arms hung sloppily, almost grotesque. Her snout crinkled. Her mouth folded in.
"Ugh, this is giving me a headache. How can you read this stuff?"
They drifted back to earth upon wingtip, Twilight accepting the package with an anxiety yet to be tainted with relief.
"Please be careful!"
Her heart rate subsided as the frames dropped back onto her face. She blew out, hard, cool air stirring the dust beneath her hooves. She fixed Rainbow with a stare. "If you had given me five seconds, I could've told you, you were two seconds faster than normal. Nine seconds."
"Uh, no. That'd be eight seconds. It was 'ten seconds flat', remember?"
Twilight tilted her head up at her friend. Arguing would be a waste of time. Later, she'd show her her records from that day. Was that too petty?
"I guess you're right," she said, feeling a little sour about the whole affair.
Spike was dutifully waiting by the front door as the sun inched its way towards what some may call 'eleven o'clock'. What Twilight preferred was 'early lunch', but something of importance superseded that desire right now.
"Give me a second," she said, Spike closing his mouth in perturbance as she brushed by. Filing cabinet screeched open. Records flitted past irritated eyes.
Summer Sun Celebration, 1000 F.O.N.
Musings, commentaries, off-handed ribbings...
There:
Met one 'Rainbow Dash'. Left me a mess, but incredibly fast. Clocked in at a record ten seconds in clearing the skies. At least I don't need to worry about the weather for the celebration.
Her hoof traced the line again. Unmistakable. Her own hoofwriting. Black and white. Right and wrong.
She bit the inside of her cheek, shuffling everything to its proper place. It was possible for her to be wrong, wasn't it?
I've been wrong before.
It's just...
The Changeling Invasion had been so recent. And they hadn't believed her there either. But the stakes were lower here. Her talent wasn't memory related, so it wasn't to be expected she remember everything.
In the midst of her reverie, a blip popped in the upper right of her vision.
New connection found! User ThePronoidOvoid#1987 is within 350 hoofsteps of your location.
A pointer appeared shortly after, indicating the direction of…
Whatever this was.
In the air above her head, she saw this glimmer of light, feathery-strands shining silver -- gold -- purple -- every color of the rainbow and beyond.
She snatched Spike up without further words. He asked once, twice, three times where they were going. But she kept her mouth shut, ears twitching with every word that brushed past her.
It wasn't long before the straggles of the wilderness cropped up. Sure sign they were near the Everfree. But she didn't need to say or think anything else before the little triangular blip that accompanied all new logs in the file system showed up. The map interface was growing, surely but steadily. She'd need to ask customer support about this; it seemed awfully invasive to automatically record anything. There didn't appear to be a way to turn it off, either.
The strand ducked and choked through the knots of nearby trees, slithered through the brambles of a blackberry bush. 150 steps
100 steps.
50.
25.
And then, it vanished.
Connection lost. Darn! Guess you can make friends next time.
