Shadow Within

Chapters

2: Missing The Forest For The Trees
3: Secrets and Revelations
4: We Need To Talk
5: Soft and Hard Problems
Prologue: Dreams and Nightmares
1: The Best Laid Plans

2: Missing The Forest For The Trees

The dark expanse of the Everfree stretched out before the group. Slowly curling vines wreathed the path, stretching their tendrils towards Ponyville. Behind her, Twilight heard Fluttershy gulp. She reached one hoof up to touch the Element of Magic on her head, just to make sure it was still there. “Alright,” she said, as much to herself as anypony else. “Let’s do this.”

“I’m still not sure this is such a good idea,” Applejack muttered. “We don’t know how deep we’re going, or what we might find on the way.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Twilight said, trying to project confidence. “We’ve been in here before, and we have the Elements. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, quit worrying, AJ,” Rainbow piped up. “We swoop in, blast the bad guy, save the day, and Pinkie throws a party. No sweat.” She put her hooves up and gave the air a few quick jabs, ending with a vicious uppercut as she defeated her imaginary foe.

“I hope it’s that easy,” Fluttershy whispered, sticking close behind Applejack. Her gaze darted in every direction, watching the trees and vines around them.

“We’ll be fine,” Rarity said confidently, her gaze fixed on Twilight. “With Twilight’s leadership, so long as we stick together there’s nothing in here that can hurt us.”

Applejack nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced. “I hope you’re right.”

The group continued to walk deeper into the forest, conversation dwindling as the trees grew darker around them. Occasionally Twilight would stop, examine the strange vines curling through the underbrush, and change direction. It wasn’t long before that turned them off the path, and they were pushing their way through thick foliage, unable to see more than a few feet in front of them.

Their progress was halted by a very unladylike shriek. Rarity stumbled into Pinkie Pie, who turned out to not be very stable at all, and both of them fell over. “Something grabbed my leg!” Rarity yelped, looking around wildly. The trees around them rustled, and a plant rose up from the darkness, a thick vine attached to a flytrap mouth shaped like a vice, but as wide as a pony. It opened wide above the fallen forms of Pinkie and Rarity, letting out a faint hissing sound.

A lasso sailed out, tightening around the thing’s jaws and forcing them shut with a snap. A quick tug brought it to the ground, and Applejack stepped on the vine, pinning it. “What in tarnation is this?” she muttered.

She didn’t get an answer, because a half dozen more vines followed the first, lunging forward towards the group of ponies. “Look out!” Twilight shouted, before her horn lit and she sent a blast of magic at the nearest one, driving it back. Another slunk towards her, releasing a blast of gas from its maw, and Twilight shrank back, coughing. Her wings spread, and she tried to fly away, but her panicked flapping only landed her on her rear.

Before the plant could descend upon her, Rainbow swooped down with a flying kick, knocking it away. Another took its place, keeping her engulfed in the choking fog that made her eyes water and her mind fuzzy. Then suddenly Rarity was by her side, a piece of fabric held over her muzzle as she sent rapid blasts of magic at the plants nearby, keeping them at bay. As she pushed them back, Applejack produced more rope, tying the vines up and pinning them together. Slowly, Twilight’s head cleared.

Then there was a scream that suddenly became muffled. Twilight turned, and found a plant at the edge of the fray with a wriggling, pony-shaped bulge in its grasp. A torso and a pair of frantically kicking yellow hooves were all that remained outside.

“Fluttershy!” Twilight called out, and pulled away from Rarity before flicking her head in a fast arc. A crescent-shaped wave of purple energy slashed outward, slicing cleanly through the vine without even slowing down. The flytrap dropped to the ground and Fluttershy pulled herself out of it, mane coated with slime.

The other plants got the message. Those that weren’t already struggling against Applejack’s expert ropework retreated back into the trees, vanishing without a trace.

“Fluttershy, are you okay?” Rainbow asked, dropping to the ground to help the other pegasus up. “I shoulda seen that one but I was distracted and it never shoulda been anywhere near you—”

Fluttershy pressed up against her, her breathing heavy and her eyes wild. Rainbow shut up, and wrapped her wings around the other pegasus instead.

“That was too close,” Applejack muttered. “Is everypony alright?”

“I’m great!” Pinkie exclaimed. “That was exciting! Rarity was all vrrm and Twilight was all hack hack blegh but then Rainbow was like wham pow bam and then—”

“Yes, Pinkie, we were there,” Applejack drawled. She frowned. “Those things almost ate Fluttershy. Twilight, too, for that matter. I thought...” She cut herself off and coughed. “I’m just worried we’re in over our heads, is all.”

Twilight glared. “What do you mean, you thought? Just because I’m not used to my wings yet—”

“That ain’t it at all!” Applejack protested. “I just thought… you’ve got all that fancy magic and you’ve got wings now too, and anything that could give you trouble is gonna get somepony hurt. We got lucky, and we still don’t really know what’s going on or what to do about it.”

“Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?” Twilight growled, her gaze darkening.

“Now now, let’s not fight,” Rarity stepped between them, one hoof trying to placate each of them. “It’s been a very stressful day, I know, and we’re all just a little tense.”

“No! I’m saying this is dangerous!” Applejack pleaded, ignoring Rarity. “And… look, Equestria can’t afford to lose another Princess. I’m worried about you, and about what happens if things go sideways. Until we find Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, we can’t risk losing you.”

“Oh, but we can risk losing Fluttershy?” Twilight hissed. “She was almost eaten a moment ago. A fate which I saved her from, I might add. You’d rather I was home safe so something bad could happen to her? Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care! I’d never let anything happen to Fluttershy either. But Equestria—”

“BUCK Equestria!” Twilight screamed, and the forest around them went still and silent. “I didn’t ask to be in charge! I didn’t ask to be any more important than anypony else, and I certainly didn’t ask for these useless wings and for everypony to treat me differently! I hate it! I hate the looks, and the whispers, and ponies that never talked to me before suddenly wanting my opinion on things, and everypony treating me like I’m something special! I’m not, and I refuse to let you do it too!”

Stillness settled around them like a shroud, even the forest seeming to hold its breath in the wake of Twilight’s outburst. For a long moment, the only sound was Twilight’s harsh breathing, and a slight rustle of Rainbow’s wing around Fluttershy. Twilight glared at Applejack, trying to ignore how dizzy she felt. Her lungs still didn’t feel like they had enough air after being gassed, but she couldn’t show weakness, not now.

It was Rarity who finally broke the silence. “No one wants to treat you differently,” she said meekly, cautiously touching Twilight like the alicorn might burn her. “Right?”

It took a moment, but Applejack gave a tiny nod. “Right. Didn’t mean to imply nothin’.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Twilight snapped, but when Applejack just looked at the ground instead of responding, she sagged. She opened her mouth to apologize, and a wave of exhaustion suddenly passed over her. Instead, all she said was a terse, “Let’s just keep going.”

She continued deeper into the forest, and after a moment she heard the rest of the group following her. She was so focused on the trail of strange vines that she didn’t realize Rarity had come up next to her until a soft white hoof touched her shoulder, and she jumped.

“Are you alright, darling?” Rarity whispered, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I feel like I’ve been asking that an awful lot lately.”

Twilight sighed, and briefly closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. “No,” she finally murmured back. “I just… I feel like I’m falling apart. I thought I could just… be me, but everything is different now. And I don’t know how to make it go back to how it was.”

Rarity nodded. “I don’t think you can, I’m afraid.” She looked away for a moment, glancing back at the others behind them. “Things have changed, but that doesn’t mean they have to be worse. You just have to… give everypony a little time to adjust. I’m sure they’ll understand, once they get used to it.”

“Just let them get used to it,” Twilight repeated bitterly. “Used to the new me, and the new Equestria, and the new Princess. What if I don’t like the new me?”

Rarity nudged her. “I like the new you,” she said softly. “Applejack shouldn’t have suggested we treat you differently, and the new you is assertive enough to tell her so. There’s nothing wrong with that. And besides,” she added with a smile, “No matter what, you’ll still be you. Don’t ever forget that.”

Twilight leaned against Rarity’s side, and took a moment to just breathe. Her head was beginning to clear, and Rarity’s presence was comforting, safe. “I’ll try,” she whispered.

They fell silent, and Rarity didn’t pull away. Twilight could feel Rarity’s coat against her wing, and she didn’t want that sensation to stop. She could hear the others murmuring behind her, trying to keep their own conversation private, but she tuned them out. Whatever they were saying about her, she didn’t want to hear it.

No further threats materialized as they traveled, and their journey came to an abrupt end as the trees ended at a sheer cliff. Twilight stepped up to the edge, already dreading the idea of trying to fly down or walk around, and was relieved to discover a set of narrow stone steps leading down. A cave mouth lay at the bottom of the stairs, those strange vines spreading outward from within.

“That must be it,” Twilight muttered. “The source of all this.”

Fluttershy eeped softly as she reached the edge of the cliff and peered over, even as Rainbow swooped out over the edge. “About time,” she called out. “I’ve been itching to kick something’s flank all day.”

“Be careful, Rainbow,” Twilight cautioned. “We don’t know what we’ll find in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow replied, but she refrained from diving straight down into the cave as the rest of the group slowly made their way down the stairs. It took several long minutes, but with the goal in sight, Twilight was hopeful that this would soon be over. With any luck, the threat would soon be dealt with, Celestia and Luna would be found, and she could go back to bed and pretend she was just Twilight, Ponyville librarian with no real responsibilities.

As the group assembled in front of the cave entrance, Twilight lit her horn and let the light shine into the depths. “Stay close,” she said softly. “Be ready for anything.”

The clack of hooves echoed off the walls as they stepped into the cave. The tunnel was narrow and twisting, the slowly moving vines coating the walls ignoring their presence. Soon enough, a glow from ahead overpowered Twilight’s hornlight, and they stepped out into a larger chamber.

A massive tree stood before them, trunk and branches covered in thick, choking vines. At the ends of its branches, familiar symbols were inset into the wood, one for each of the Elements of Harmony.

“Err… Twilight, what are we lookin’ at?” Applejack broke the silence.

“I’m not sure,” Twilight muttered. “But this has to be the source. This tree… it’s connected to the Elements. Can’t you feel it?”

There was a murmuring of uncertainty, before Rainbow spoke up with a shrug. “I dunno, Twilight, I just blast things. It looks like a tree to me.”

“Well, I think it’s in trouble,” Twilight replied. “These vines… they’re the problem here. Whatever is causing them, that’s what we’re here to stop.”

“We’re just stopping a mean plant?” Fluttershy murmured. “I was sure there’d be a pony, or maybe some forest critter behind all this. Plants don’t just attack things for no reason.”

“Fluttershy, they tried to eat you,” Rainbow countered.

“Well, they were hungry,” Fluttershy noted mildly. “That’s a reason. It doesn’t look like they’re eating the tree.”

Twilight waved a hoof. “It doesn’t matter,” she interjected, frustrated. “Even if it’s just a plant, the Elements can deal with it. This is the center, so this is where we use them. Come on, let’s fix this.”

She got a series of nods from her friends, and they stepped up beside her. Twilight closed her eyes, and felt the magic flowing through her Element, connecting her to all the others. Heat filled her body as that power spread through her. She was weightless, invincible, and all she had to do was direct the Elements at the problem that needed correcting. Twilight took that power, and sent it outward at the vines choking the life out of the tree. She channeled all of her frustrations into the blast. Everything that had been thrust upon her, every unwanted change, every new expectation.

For a moment, everything seemed to work. The familiar rush of the Elements making things right suffused her, and she could feel the emotions of each of her friends, from Rainbow’s brash confidence to Fluttershy’s nervous hope to Rarity’s unshakable faith in her. But then, in an instant, it all became somehow wrong.

Pain lanced through her head as the magic arced and sparked and crackled, and her vision went white as it overwhelmed her. She felt like she was splitting apart from the horn down, but then there was a shattering crash from all around her, and the magic winked out and was gone. Twilight fell to the ground, clutching her head, and her hooves brushed against shards of crystal scattered on the ground before her.

“What happened?” Applejack muttered.

“A whoosh! And a vrrm, and… a crash,” Pinkie responded. She was more subdued than usual. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Twilight slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw, right in front of her, were the shards of the Element of Magic that had been on her head only moments ago. “No…” she whispered. “No no no no this can’t be happening.” Lifting her gaze further, it fell on the tree. The vines were gone, vanished as if they’d never been. And crumpled on the ground nearby, where they had moments ago been hidden from sight, were two familiar figures. “Celestia! Luna!” Twilight called, her voice hitching in relief. “Oh please be okay…”

“They’re breathing,” Fluttershy murmured, already at the tree and kneeling next to the two alicorns. She pressed her ear against Celestia’s chest, and then pulled back. “They seem fine. Just… drained, maybe.”

“What happened to the Elements?” Rarity wailed. “Everything was fine, and now look at them! They’re ruined! How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said. “I don’t know what happened. I should have… I should have…” She searched about for an answer, but couldn’t find one. She tried to stand, but instead stumbled, her head woozy. A ringing was slowly growing louder between her ears, and she shook her head to try to clear it. She quickly realized that was a bad idea.

Rarity was by her side in an instant as she sank back to the ground in pain. “Twilight, are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

Twilight groaned. “Is… Celestia okay?”

“Oh, ah… Fluttershy seems to think so—”

“That’s... good. She’s in charge now.”

“Twilight? Twilight!”

Rarity’s shouting followed her down into the dark.

The world swam around Twilight as she floated in a dark void. Her horn lit up only a small slice of the murky darkness, but as she cast it about, it revealed faceless ponies surrounding her. “Princess Twilight!” they called, shouting over each other as they were illuminated. “Help us, Princess Twilight.”

Twilight tried to respond, but nothing left her mouth save a trail of bubbles. Her voice was just a burble of formless noise, useless to the crowd of supplicants. Soon, their voices changed, becoming harsh and angry. “Why won’t you help us, Princess? Why don’t you love us? What will we do?”

Twilight felt them close in on her, and she backed away. But her back was to the wall, and the faceless ponies closed in, reaching out for her, their hooves growing claws. She tried to speak, tried to beg them to leave her alone, but she couldn’t. Her mouth was full of molasses, and her motions were sluggish. She cowered as the creatures swarmed her, claws raking against her fur. Pain lanced through her head and tears fell down her cheeks.

She screamed, a wordless, silent cry, and a wave of power blasted out from her core. It blinded her as it lit up the darkness, and the crowd was swept away by the force of it, some turning to withered husks and others dissolving away entirely. When Twilight’s vision finally cleared, the field around her was scorched clean and littered with twisted, ruined bodies. Her body shook, but still she couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

“Twilight? Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes, gasping.

Rarity was standing over her, looking concerned. Twilight groaned, and looked around blearily. She was in her bed, and the afternoon sun was shining through the window, and the moon was nowhere to be seen. She breathed a soft sigh of relief and sank back into the pillow. Already the dream was splintering into pieces and fading away, and she could no longer remember why it had rattled her.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Rarity said, her voice full of relief. “I was so worried.”

“Where is everypony? What happened?”

Rarity bit her lip. “The others are helping the Princesses restore order, telling everypony that the threat is over and there’s no need to panic. I… thought you probably would want to stay away from all that, at least for a little while, so I volunteered to take you home and keep an eye on you.”

Twilight smiled. “Thank you, Rarity.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank Celestia that everything’s alright. Now maybe things can all go back to normal.”

“Well… not everything—”

Twilight sat bolt upright. “Oh no! The Summer Sun Celebration! I was going to— eurgh—” The world spun around her, and she nearly fell out of the bed. “Unnh... my head.”

“Twilight! Don’t do that, you silly thing. You are to stay in bed and rest, by order of Princess Celestia herself. And here.” Rarity thrust a bowl in her direction, forcing her back towards the headboard. “Eat something. You are not to worry about the Summer Sun Celebration until you have recovered.”

“But—”

“Eat.”

Twilight took the bowl meekly, and took a sip. It was some kind of potato soup, cold but still tasty. Her belly rumbled, suddenly reminding her that this was the first food she’d had all day, and she gulped it down greedily. Rarity watched, a frown on her face that said she would object strenuously if Twilight didn’t finish.

Silence fell over the two of them as Twilight finished the soup. When she lowered the empty bowl, she found Rarity looking at her, her expression changed from stern caretaker to something more melancholy. But she quickly looked away as she realized Twilight was watching.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Twilight whispered, when it felt like the silence was going to last forever.

Rarity quickly shook her head. “There’s no need to be sorry, Twilight. It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is,” Twilight said softly. “I was the one who decided to go into the forest without figuring out what was going on first. I was so worried about being in charge of… well, everything, that I put all of you at risk. And in the process, I broke the Elements. I wouldn’t be surprised if nopony wants to deal with me anymore.”

“Twilight, I will not let you blame yourself for this,” Rarity said sharply. “We all agreed to come with you, and you couldn’t have known what would happen. You did the best that you could, dear, and if anypony wants to blame you for that they will have to get through me.”

Twilight smiled wryly, before letting out a soft laugh. “Thanks, Rarity.” She looked away after a moment, and her laughter died. “You shouldn’t have to be looking out for me like this.”

For a moment, there was no response, and then Twilight felt Rarity’s hoof on her chin, pulling her back until their eyes met. Rarity was sitting next to her on the bed now, and her gaze was soft. “Twilight, I want to be looking out for you. I… I care about you deeply, and what you’re going through, nopony should have to go through alone. I know I’m just… I don’t want to do anything you’re not happy with, so if you really don’t want me to—if you just want things like they were, I would—”

Twilight kissed her. She didn’t think about doing it, she just did. Rarity’s eyes widened, and then they closed, and she was kissing back. She pressed against Twilight, burying her hoof in Twilight’s mane like she might never get another chance.

For one scant moment, Twilight wondered if she should be analyzing why she had done that, but it took no time at all for all thought to leave her. There was only Rarity, and her lips and her fur and her breath and they were all wonderful. But all too quickly she had to come up for air, and her brain reasserted itself. “I—um, I’m sorry, I should have asked—”

“Twilight Sparkle, do not dare apologize to me for that,” Rarity interrupted, her voice dangerous. “That was wonderful, and the only thing you should be apologizing for is beating me to it.”

“Oh,” Twilight said in a tiny voice, blushing. “Does… does that mean you want to do it again?”

Rarity didn’t answer with words, instead pressing her lips hungrily against Twilight’s once more.

Behind her, the door opened. “Hey Rarity, is Twilight up—” Spike began, before looking up.

With a squeak, Twilight pulled away from Rarity. “Spike!” she exclaimed. “Oh, um, you’re back! I’m fine, I mean, I’m better, I mean, from earlier, not because of anything that may or may not have been happening and you saw that didn’t you?”

Spike didn’t respond immediately. A dozen expressions passed across his face in an instant, from shock to confusion to anger to finally settling on hurt, which after a moment he did his best to hide. “You and Rarity,” he said, disbelief in his voice. “That’s why…” he trailed off, his gaze dark. “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he finally decided on, voice curt, before he turned around and shut the door behind him.

“Oh dear,” Rarity said. “I hadn’t considered Spike’s little crush. I may have to make that up to him somehow.”

Twilight blinked. “Wait, you knew about Spike’s crush?”

“Well, of course, Twilight, I’m not blind. It just didn’t seem wise to indulge it. Most of the time.” Rarity waved a hoof. “He’ll get over it as he gets older.”

Twilight pulled back. “We shouldn’t have been doing… that… in the first place. I don’t know what came over me. I’m just all over the place lately, and I’m stressed, and—”

“Twilight, are you trying to say that after kissing me like that you do not intend to court me?”

“I, uh, um, ah…”

Rarity put a hoof to Twilight’s lips. “Dear, you are correct that you have been under a lot of stress. Perhaps you should sleep on it, and you will have a better idea in the morning.”

Twilight looked relieved. “So, uh, you’re… okay with that? Because I don’t want to mess up our friendship, or upset Spike, and there are so many variables to consider—”

Rarity smirked. “Oh, absolutely not. You are a catch, Twilight, and I have no intention of letting you slip away from me without a fight. But we can discuss it in the morning. You still need rest, after all.”

“Wait—”

“Ta-ta!” Rarity called, as she practically pranced out of the room.

3: Secrets and Revelations

Twilight woke the next morning with a head full of confused feelings. Upon looking out the window, she realized that ‘morning’ may have been generous. The sun was high in the sky, and her belly rumbled. She stumbled out of bed and mechanically went through the motions of preparing for the day, her mind elsewhere. Was she really considering a relationship with Rarity? It seemed like now was hardly the time, but some rebellious part of her said that if her entire life was going to be turned upside-down, what could one more upheaval really do? Besides, this would be an upheaval she’d actively decided upon, instead of having it simply thrust upon her.

Maybe Celestia had seen this coming after all. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that Twilight was the last pony in the room to be in the loop regarding a pony’s feelings.

Besides, if a decision was to be made, there was no use putting it off. She opened the door to the library determined to head directly to the boutique to get this whole thing sorted out, one way or the other.

Sounds of laughter and cheer greeted her. Pennants and streamers covered the buildings of Ponyville, and the main square was full of stalls selling pastries and candies and knick-knacks, as well as ponies purchasing them. There was no sign of the damage the assault yesterday had caused.

In short, it was a typical Summer Sun Celebration.

“Oh, buck me,” Twilight whispered. Somehow, she had forgotten what day it was. She was supposed to be in Canterlot, to help with the ceremony of raising the sun!

A ceremony that had no doubt taken place hours ago. She had missed it. Her very first task as an official Princess, and she had overslept. Some Princess she was.

Twilight’s belly rumbled again as her nose caught the scent of baked goods and fresh fruit. Perhaps she could throw herself upon Celestia’s mercy after lunch, at least. Surely nopony could blame her for not wanting to be banished on an empty stomach.

It took no time at all to find a stall selling something delicious, and she was just finishing her order when a fuzzy pink missile hit her in the side.

“Twilight! You’re up!” Pinkie Pie beamed. “Are you feeling all better? I’m so glad you got to stay in Ponyville after all! We can celebrate together like we wanted!”

Twilight sighed. “Not on purpose, Pinkie! I was supposed to help Celestia, and I let her down! I shouldn’t be celebrating, I’m probably in trouble—”

She paused, because Pinkie was laughing hysterically. “Oh, Twilight, you’re so funny!” she finally managed, wiping tears from her eyes. “You saved Celestia from evil planty doom, and you think she’s mad at you?”

“Just because there was a crisis—”

Pinkie put a hoof on her muzzle. “Don’t worry about it, silly! We told Celestia everything, like, yesterday. She said to let you sleep as long as you needed to. You’re fine! Now stop moping and come party!”

At some point, Twilight’s food had appeared, and Pinkie swept it up and dragged Twilight away. Twilight decided it wasn’t worth the effort to fight it, and soon they approached a table full of the rest of their friends.

“Look who I found!” Pinkie practically sang as they approached, plopping Twilight into an empty chair.

There was a chorus of greetings, before Applejack continued, “It’s good to see ya, Twi’. You feeling better?”

“Much better,” Twilight replied. “I mean, I still need to figure out what happened, but at least my head doesn’t hurt anymore.” She stole a glance at Rarity, a private look that said she was talking about more than just the Elements. A whole conversation passed by in the span of a glance and a smile that said Rarity understood but similarly wasn’t going to mention it here.

“You’ll figure it out,” Fluttershy assured her. “You always do.”

The conversation drifted to other topics as Twilight focused on her food. She kept stealing glances at Rarity, but the other mare never seemed to be looking back at her, absorbed in the gossip around the table. Twilight didn’t know what to do. She liked Rarity, certainly, but it was as a friend, wasn’t it? She’d always assumed that if she fell in love with somepony, she’d know about it. But that wasn’t particularly rational, was it? She had no evidence, no hypothesis. She’d thought she had known something without testing it first, which was foolish, of course.

It didn’t take long to follow that line of thinking. She’d never get any data if she turned Rarity down. There was only one way to really test her new hypothesis. But that clear logic didn’t settle her the way she expected it to. Instead, it made her heart flutter uncomfortably. And besides, she had so many other things to deal with—fixing the elements, learning to get used to her new body, being a Princess. Was it really fair to make Rarity deal with all of that?

She was going in circles. With a sigh that hopefully no one else caught, she put it aside. She had to talk about it with Rarity anyway, so it was no good putting words in her mouth until then.

“Hey Twilight, did you want to do some games?” Pinkie interrupted her train of thought.

“What?”

Pinkie waved a hoof at her empty plate. “If you’re done with lunch, did you want to check out some of the faire games? We’ve all had a few hours to wander around already, so we should do whatever you want to do!”

“Oh, right,” Twilight took a moment to return her thoughts to reality. She hadn’t even realized she’d finished her food, because her belly still rumbled uncomfortably, like she hadn’t eaten anything at all. She’d gotten used to the idea that she needed to eat more over the past few weeks—after all, she was growing much faster than a pony her age normally would. But usually a full meal at least took some of the edge off her hunger.

She realized that the rest of the group was still looking at her expectantly, and pushed that thought away to be dealt with some other time. “Sure,” she agreed. “That sounds fun.”

Pinkie bounced out of her seat with a happy squeak, and the rest of the group followed with somewhat more composure. The day was warm and sunny, and there were dozens of faire games and souvenir stands, all thronged by smiling, happy ponies.

Twilight let Pinkie lead her to stands, and she threw balls and tossed rings when they were given to her, but her head wasn’t in it, and she kept having to insist she was having fun after winning nothing again and again. Eventually, Rainbow got tired of ‘wasting bits’ and started trying to win things for her, which caused Rarity to step in and do the same. By midafternoon she found herself on a bench surrounded by a small hoard of plush animals, nodding along to a conversation she wasn’t a part of.

“Is it too much?” a quiet voice asked her, and Twilight was startled to find Fluttershy next to her.

“I’m having fun!” Twilight insisted, for what felt like the thousandth time.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Fluttershy said. “I know that look. You’d rather be home, curled up with a book.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I just… I have a lot on my mind.”

“You’re worried about being a Princess, and what Celestia expects of you, right?” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, and then giggled at Twilight’s incredulous expression. “It’s not hard to see how stressed you are, Twilight. If you need more time alone, I’m sure Pinkie will understand.”

“I… I mean, I don’t want to…” Twilight protested halfheartedly, but then she trailed off, suddenly dizzy. She closed her eyes for only a second, but when she opened them, she found herself leaning against Fluttershy.

“...not feeling well. I’m going to take her home, alright?” Fluttershy was saying.

“Are you sure, dear?” Rarity questioned, her gaze concerned. “If Twilight’s not feeling well, we could call it a day—”

“No, that’s alright,” Fluttershy interrupted. “I’m sure she just needs more rest. We’ll be fine.”

There was still doubt in Rarity’s eyes, and she looked briefly at Twilight. But then she nodded. “If you’re sure. Get some rest, Twilight. I’ll come check on you later, perhaps?”

Twilight nodded, and then let Fluttershy lead her away. Her head was pounding again, and she was suddenly starving. She managed a halfhearted mumble in Fluttershy’s direction, and when the pegasus pressed something deep-fried into her hooves, she was frankly amazed Fluttershy had understood her at all.

Twilight was so focused on putting one hoof in front of the other, her gaze firmly on the ground, that she was surprised when she heard a door open and discovered they were at Fluttershy’s cottage, rather than the library. She didn’t have the energy to object as she was bundled onto the couch and covered in a blanket. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t help her head, or prevent her from hearing Fluttershy hovering anxiously over her.

She was still hungry. She’d devoured the carnival food Fluttershy had given her in about three bites, and it hadn’t helped. She tried to convey that thought to Fluttershy, but instead of providing her with more food, Fluttershy pressed her ear to Twilight’s barrel, and then made her open her mouth and looked into it.

“Hmm,” Fluttershy murmured. “Give me a moment. I think I understand.”

Twilight didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded anyway, and Fluttershy vanished. After what felt like ages, she reappeared, carrying a plate of something unfamiliar that smelled absolutely delicious. “Here. Try this.”

Twilight didn’t need to be told twice. The food was nothing like anything she’d had before, chewy and juicy and savory. She felt better almost immediately, finishing off the entire thing before she managed to sit up straight again. “What was that?” she gasped. “It was amazing.”

“Chicken,” Fluttershy replied.

Twilight was sure she’d be able to hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence. “What?” she finally demanded, trying to gag. But her body betrayed her—it refused to be nauseous, despite her telling it otherwise. “Why would you—why did you even have—”

“Meat-eaters are a part of nature,” Fluttershy explained patiently, still cool and unperturbed. “What did you think I fed the carnivores that come to me for help? Most of them can’t survive without meat in their diets.”

“But—that doesn’t explain why you would—” Twilight sputtered. “I’m a pony! I don’t need meat!”

“Clearly, you do.” Fluttershy pointed a hoof at Twilight’s muzzle. “Your canines have sharpened, and your body has probably been trying to tell you for days that you weren’t getting the proper proteins. It looks like alicorns are omnivores. I’m not surprised Celestia keeps that a secret, but I am going to have to have words about her not telling you.”

Twilight shook her head, refusing to listen to the words coming out of Fluttershy’s mouth. “No, that can’t be right,” she insisted. “I would know, it would be in a book somewhere, I’ve known Celestia my entire life…”

Fluttershy gave her a sad smile. “Twilight, if I’d put that plate in front of any other pony, they would have stopped after the first bite.” She settled onto the ground in front of the couch, and then reached out and took Twilight’s hooves in her own. “It’s alright, Twilight. You’re just changing, that’s all. Eating meat doesn’t make you a bad pony. Some of my best friends are carnivores.”

“I don’t want to be changing,” Twilight said, her voice small. “Every time I think I’m getting used to this, it gets worse. I… I feel like a stranger inside my own body.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Fluttershy murmured, leaning in to give her a hug. “I’m so sorry. Have you told Celestia?”

“No. Of course not. I couldn’t. I… I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually, I just…” Twilight trailed off helplessly. “I couldn’t hurt her like that.”

“Twilight…” Fluttershy murmured gently. “Nopony ever asked you if you wanted this. You don’t have to just accept what other ponies think of you. You taught me that, remember?”

“I know, it’s just… complicated.” Twilight pulled away, pawing awkwardly at the couch. “I’ve always looked up to Celestia. I’ve secretly wanted to be her ever since I was a filly, but I never expected anything like this to happen to me. And then suddenly it did, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I’ve been given this gift, and there are so many ponies who would love to be in my place, so how petty must I be to think to reject it? But at the same time, I didn’t ask to be here, and everything is harder now, and it’s nothing like what I thought it would be. And part of me resents Celestia for not giving me a choice. But she’s Celestia! Why would she need to ask, when she knows what I’ve wanted all my life?” Twilight groaned, putting her head down on the couch and covering it with her hooves. “It’s all so confusing.”

Fluttershy gently rubbed her shoulder, silent for a long moment. Finally she said softly, “I definitely don’t know how to fix all of that, but… I’m here for you if you need anything. Change is scary, but you have friends to help you through it. And it’s okay if you don’t figure it all out right away. Or if you decide it’s not right for you. Or even if you have to make up what ‘normal’ is, for you. We’ll support you, no matter what.”

“I know,” Twilight said softly. “Rarity said the same thing.”

Fluttershy nodded, before saying quietly, “I think… just because you think other ponies would like something, doesn’t mean you have to treat it like a gift. I… know a thing or two about being told that I should be happy to have wings, even when they seemed useless. Just because other ponies say you should appreciate something doesn’t mean they’re right. They don’t know what it’s actually like, and you don’t have to pretend to be happy for their sake.”

“I know that,” Twilight said after a long moment of silence. “It’s not really them that I’m pretending for. I don’t want... “ she trailed off. “I owe her too much.”

“Are you sure?” Fluttershy asked meekly. “Celestia wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose. But… that doesn’t mean you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m not hurt,” Twilight snapped, more harshly than she’d meant to. “I’m just… adjusting. I’m not going to go tell Celestia I don’t want this just because it’s not what I expected. Besides, the last time I asked about it…” she shook her head. “Never mind. The point is, for all I know I’ll get used to it soon enough, and then I’ll have a lifetime of being a Princess, and I won’t have to have Celestia worried that I’m unhappy for the rest of eternity just because I got a little freaked out.”

Fluttershy shrank back, but then she nodded. “If you say so.”

When Twilight finally returned to the library, it was already dark. She carefully crept into the treehouse, ears perked for Spike, but when she didn’t hear anything, she scampered into the kitchen. The dried meat Fluttershy had gifted her went all the way to the back of the fridge. That, combined with the paper it was wrapped in, would hopefully prevent Spike from investigating it too closely. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that conversation just yet.

Spike’s bedroom door was closed, even though he usually wasn’t asleep by this hour. Twilight almost knocked, but then she turned and retreated to her own room instead. If he needed his space, she didn’t want to force it. Not when she’d accidentally stolen the mare he’d been crushing on for the past year.

Not that she’d meant to steal Rarity. Not that she was even sure she was ready to date one of her friends. Not that she even knew how she felt about the matter. How could she expect to talk to Spike about his feelings if she wasn’t even clear on her own?

Thoughts of Rarity ran incessantly through her head as she retired to bed, and her dreams were a confusing mess. Half the time Rarity was running from her, and half the time Rarity was beckoning her forward with bedroom eyes.

She was deep into the latter, her tongue pressed hungrily into Rarity’s mouth, her hoof drifting lower, when she suddenly felt watched.

“That is quite enough of that.”

Rarity dissolved away into white mist, and Twilight turned to find Luna standing behind her. She blushed, pulled away, and realized that the bed she had been on a moment ago had vanished as well. She frowned. “Why… How did you…” Slowly, realization dawned. “This is a dream.”

“Indeed,” Luna agreed. “There is much that you must be told, and Celestia has waited far too long to tell you about it.” She walked forward past Twilight, and the scene changed around her to a large banquet hall. The floor and walls were polished wood, with a massive stone hearth at one end, fire crackling merrily. A large table filled the space, piled high with food of all kinds, from fruits and vegetables to steaming roasts and barrels of wine.

Twilight felt her mouth water, and followed Luna to take a seat at the table, trying not to think too hard about how delicious the meat smelled to her. After all, it was just a dream. It wasn’t like any of it was real. “If this is your way of telling me that alicorns eat meat, I already figured that out,” she said quietly.

“We are aware,” Luna replied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table, and piling her plate high with food. “This is for our own comfort. From a time when alicorns were plentiful, and we did not have to hide what we are.”

Twilight frowned. “What do you mean? Celestia doesn’t hide, and everypony’s happy to have you back, I thought…”

“That is only because nopony still alive remembers our banishment, save our sister. They have been subsisting on Celestia’s propaganda their entire lives.” She held up a hoof as Twilight opened her mouth to speak again. “Please, cease your questions for a moment. It will be simpler if we start from the beginning.”

Luna paused, collecting her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was somber. “Alicorns have a long history, much of which Celestia has deliberately buried. We do not truly know how we came about, but it was many millennia ago, long before the founding of Equestria. In the beginning, alicorns were plentiful. We spread freely, did as we wished, and ruled ponies as we desired. We were stronger than earth ponies, faster than pegasi, and more powerful than the most magical unicorns. We could do anything.

“But such times could not last forever. Celestia has led ponies to believe that we are immortal, but that is… not the whole truth. So long as we have sources of magic on which to feed, we do not age, it is true. But we can still be killed. And in a world with too many alicorns, we mostly killed each other.”

Luna paused, turning her gaze away. “Those ancient alicorns grew spoiled and arrogant. They focused on each other, and paid no mind to the ponies in their midst, who rightfully feared them. They failed to notice as those ponies grew smarter, and learned greater magic, and built powerful tools. At first, ponies simply encouraged us to fight each other. But before we knew it, they were hunting us down.”

“What??” Twilight gasped. “That doesn’t make any sense. Celestia is—”

“Celestia is unique,” Luna hissed. “She turned against her own kind. When ponykind rebelled against the alicorns, decried us as monsters and decided to wipe us out, she sided with them.”

Twilight tried to process that. “But… but that would mean that… that she thought we really are monsters—”

“We are not monsters!” Luna interrupted, slamming a hoof on the table. “Arrogant, yes. Cruel, perhaps. But we did not deserve genocide.” She took a moment to breathe, her flanks heaving and her eyes full of rage. But she controlled herself enough to let the anger fade so she could speak again. “We were capricious gods. We will not deny that how we treated our subjects in our hubris was wrong. But so too was the systematic murder of our species.”

Twilight shrank back, trying to make herself small in the face of Luna’s fury. “But… the stories from back then don’t say anything about…”

Luna snorted. “The stories that remain are those that Celestia allows to survive. She left traces of our existence for she knew we would one day return. There was no reason to allow you to know the rest.”

Silence stretched between them, Twilight wrapping her hooves about herself as she tried to understand. “I just… I can’t imagine ponies doing such a thing,” she finally whispered. “Wiping out an entire species… that’s monstrous.”

“Those were darker times. The ponies of that age were not as you know them today. Nor were the alicorns.” Luna shook her head. “You see now why we - I have had such trouble adjusting. We are not yet ready to walk among ponykind in the way that they now expect. Ponies do not worship us as they once did.”

Twilight frowned. “It’s… this is a lot to take in, all at once. I can see why Celestia didn’t want to tell me right away.”

Luna waved a hoof. “It is important historical context, certainly, but it is not the primary reason we needed to speak with you. You do not yet truly understand what it means to be an alicorn. We are predators, Twilight. And our prey is ponies.” She held up a hoof to forestall Twilight’s objections. “No, not in the way you might think. Ponies are our source of strength. They are reservoirs of magic, and it is that magic which allows us to survive. Without such a source—preferably from a unicorn, though any pony will do—we will waste away. Celestia has Blueblood and his line for this purpose, and while you may not yet realize it, you have already begun to draw from Rarity. You must understand this process so you may continue to do so without bringing her harm.”

There was a pause as Twilight just stared. Then: “WHAT?”

Luna was unruffled. “Celestia has been meticulous in scrubbing this knowledge from pony history. It was perhaps the true catalyst for our conflict a thousand years ago—ponies will forgive a callous overlord, but they will not forgive the loss of their loved ones. Too many of us were careless or greedy, and demanded too much from our thralls.”

Twilight backed away, horrified. “How could you just… feeding on ponies…” She shook her head, but couldn’t bring herself to look away from Luna. The alicorn of the night had gained a stature that rivaled Celestia, and her coat had darkened to ebony. Twilight had dismissed it as Luna regaining her strength, but it was impossible to deny that she now looked much more like the Nightmare Moon of her return than the small, frail Luna that had appeared after being cleansed by the Elements.

The darker alicorn waved a hoof, dismissive. “We must eat to survive, just like any other species. Be thankful that we can do so in a way that leaves our prey intact at all. Would you have us starve ourselves?”

“They’re not prey!” Twilight growled. “They’re ponies with lives and feelings and dreams. You can’t just use them like that.”

“You speak from ignorance,” Luna snapped. “Do not presume to judge us, when you know nothing. We have heard all these platitudes from Celestia, and she at least understands what it means to be an alicorn. You are no longer a pony, Twilight Sparkle, and you would do well to stop thinking like one.”

Twilight shook her head. “I get it now,” she finally whispered. “Nightmare Moon wasn’t some corruption. Nightmare Moon was just you, not caring about ponies as anything more than a source of power. The Elements didn’t change you at all. You weren’t jealous of Celestia, you were just on the wrong side!”

Luna drew herself up, her face darkening. She made a sweeping gesture with one hoof, and the table was flung aside so that she could step forward. “Hold thy tongue, Twilight Sparkle,” she growled. “We have come to help thee not repeat those mistakes. Persist in this, and we may not try again until after thou has drained Rarity beyond repair.”

Twilight kept backing up, but soon she found herself pressed against a wall, with nowhere to run. “No,” she shot back. “I’m done. You’re a monster, and I don’t want your help. I’m going back to being a pony, and if I can’t figure out how to do that, I’ll starve before I do anything to hurt Rarity.”

“Thou cannot be allowed—”

Twilight wasn’t listening. She couldn’t fight Luna, not in the dream realm, but she didn’t have to. She lit her horn, pulling forth all the power she could manage, and turned it on herself. Her body disintegrated, and with a scream of pain she woke up, gasping.

She stared up at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what she had learned. She didn’t dare look down at her wings.

4: We Need To Talk

Twilight stared at the coffee pot as it percolated, forcing herself to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t avoid Luna forever, not when the alicorn of the night could step into her dreams whenever she wanted. But coffee would keep Luna at bay for a little while, at least, while she figured out what to do. As if she needed another problem she didn’t know how to solve.

The coffee maker beeped at her, and she pulled the pot out and poured a cup. It burned her mouth as she sipped at it, but she didn’t care. The sting could only help her stay awake, and she had research to do. The process that was changing her into an alicorn—into a monster—would follow the same principles as any other piece of magic. And anything you could do with magic, you could undo with magic. According to her theory classes, at least.

Her lab was well equipped to detect the magical forces running through her body, and she’d already made some progress in categorizing them. Before, her interest had been in charting her progress, recording her changes. She’d written off the spell itself as being too complex to be worth reverse engineering. But now, if she wanted to reverse it—really, if she wanted to change it at all—that was what she had to do.

She was nose deep in her notes when there was a knock at the door. It took her a moment to realize it was something she needed to pay attention to, but after the third knock, it became clear that wherever Spike was, he wasn’t answering it. “Coming!” she yelled, before scrambling up the stairs.

When she opened the door, Rarity was on her doorstep. She looked perfect, as always, not a hair out of place. And when the door opened, she gave Twilight a smile that made her heart flutter.

“Twilight, there you are. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “I am,” she blurted, before her brain caught up. “I mean, I should be, I mean—you can’t be here, it’s not safe—”

Rarity’s expression cycled from surprise to hurt before it finally landed on confusion. “Twilight, what in the world are you talking about?” She took a hesitant step backwards, but didn’t leave the entryway. There was a firmness in her gaze that said she wasn’t going to back down entirely that easily.

“I’m dangerous,” Twilight managed, her voice desperate. “To you. Alicorns are—Luna came and told me—” She paused, if only because her words were getting ahead of her thoughts again and they were all jumbling together. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to settle herself enough to follow only one train of thought at a time. “Alicorns feed on pony magic. Until I figure out how that works and how not to do it, you can’t be here. I could hurt you.”

Rarity considered that, looking thoughtful. “Well,” she finally said. “I daresay that’s one of the more unique reasons I’ve heard for avoiding somepony.”

Twilight blinked, and was still caught up trying to determine what part of her explanation hadn’t been clear when Rarity walked right past her into the house. By the time she thought to shut the door or stand in her way, it was too late. “Weren’t you listening?” she demanded. “I’m a life draining monster! I could kill you!”

Rarity didn’t respond immediately, instead taking her time to get settled on the couch, in a way that made it clear she was getting comfortable and had no intention of moving again anytime soon. “Darling, you’re an alicorn. A princess. Practically divine. If I was worried about your ability to kill me I wouldn’t have kissed you in the first place.”

“This isn’t a joke—”

“I am not treating it as such,” Rarity interrupted. “But I would think I could recognize an excuse when I see one. Are you really trying to push me away because you fear my imminent demise, or because you have been given a reason to avoid examining your feelings?”

Twilight hesitated. Finally, quietly, she replied, “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt any of my friends, but after everything that’s happened, I really don’t want to hurt you. I… I kinda blew up at Luna before she could tell me everything, but she said I was already feeding on you without even knowing it. I don’t know how long it will take for that to do real harm, so the safest thing would be—”

“For you to lock yourself in your library and see nopony?” Rarity asked, brow arched. “I think it is safe to assume that if you were going to hurt me just by standing nearby for a few minutes, Celestia and Luna wouldn’t have waited this long to tell you about it. Think about this logically, dear. If this is such a big secret that they haven’t told anypony—didn’t even tell you about it for a month—do you really think they’d risk letting it get out because you were leaving a trail of bodies wherever you went?”

Twilight shuddered. “You don’t have to be so grim, Rarity,” she whispered, suddenly feeling very small. “I—I told Luna I was done. That I didn’t want to be an alicorn anymore. I… I don’t want to be this thing they’ve turned me into. I can’t be a pony-killing monster. I can’t. You weren’t there, you didn’t hear the way Luna talked about ponies, like they didn’t matter. I don’t want to become that.”

Twilight stared down at the floor, shrinking down into herself like she could just disappear. She could acutely feel the weight of her wings on her back, a constant reminder that she couldn’t escape. She could brush her tongue against her teeth, and feel the jagged edges that Fluttershy had spotted and which she now knew the purpose of. She could see all those ponies in her dreams that screamed and ran when they saw her. What would happen if she stopped seeing them as her friends? What would happen if she started to believe that she was better than them? She didn’t think she’d be the same Twilight that made five new friends in time to defeat Nightmare Moon. That Twilight would be lost forever.

She felt a soft hoof wrap around her, and suddenly Rarity was pulling her against her chest. “You won’t,” she said, in that determined, no-nonsense voice that would brook no arguments. “You are the centerpiece of our friendship, Twilight. You are the most capable mare I know. You will get through this.”

“I’m scared, Rarity,” Twilight croaked, feeling her tears drip into Rarity’s fur. “I’m terrified of what I’m becoming. I don’t know if I can fix it.”

“You will. You can do anything you put your mind to, Twilight Sparkle. I have seen you in action often enough to know that.” Rarity’s hoof pulled her closer, running in small, comforting circles against her side. “And all your friends will be there by your side when you need us. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Twilight let out a choked laugh that was closer to a hiccup, burying her face in Rarity’s immaculate coat that she was rapidly ruining with tears. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, almost inaudibly. “I know this isn’t what you came here for. I… I’m not trying to hide from you, but I just… I can’t sort out what I feel about you in this mess. I shouldn’t even have kissed you, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Twilight, darling,” Rarity murmured. “I care about you very much, and you aren’t going to drive me away that easily. You’ve got all these things to deal with already, and I can wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” Twilight whispered.

Twilight’s face was buried too deeply in Rarity’s fur to see the unicorn’s frown, and she was too distracted to notice the disappointment in her voice. “Well… we shall cross that bridge when we come to it. The first step is fixing this mess of yours, isn’t it?” She put on a smile. “If it means you can focus on me, then I suppose I must assist you in your research.”

Twilight laughed softly. “Thank you, Rarity.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Hours later, as the sun sank towards the horizon, Twilight and Rarity were still in the lab, doing research. Rarity had a basic understanding of magical principles, and was smarter than most ponies gave her credit for, but even still most of what Twilight was doing was well over her head. As a result, she spent most of the time standing where Twilight told her to stand and making sure the alicorn ate something. At the very least, her presence gave Twilight someone to bounce ideas off when she was stuck.

So when there was a knock on the door, Twilight barely looked up as Rarity announced that she would get it. She was deep in trying to identify the different pieces of her own magical signature, which had shifted drastically even from the last time she’d measured it, to say nothing of what it had looked like when she was still a unicorn. Not for the first time, she was glad she was so meticulous with her notes, and that she had readings from her old self to compare to at all.

“Twilight?” Rarity’s voice cut through her thoughts, a distinct edge to it. “I think you had best come up here.”

Twilight almost didn’t respond, but then she sighed and put down her tools. Rarity wouldn’t call her away without a good reason.

It didn’t take long for her to trot up to ground level, and find out what the reason was.

Celestia was standing in the doorway, a carefully neutral expression on her face. Rarity was standing nervously in front of her, her posture defensive. It was just defiant enough to be clear that she wasn’t letting the ruler of Equestria in, even though everyone in the room knew there was nothing she could really do to stop her.

“Twilight,” Celestia said, and the smile that usually accompanied her favorite student’s name was notably absent. “We need to talk.”

It had taken Twilight some doing to convince Rarity that yes, she was fine, and that she did want to talk to Celestia. But eventually Rarity had relented and gone home, and now here she was, sitting across from her mentor, wishing the room didn’t feel so cold.

“I have heard that you and Luna had a disagreement,” Celestia finally spoke up. She was still using that carefully neutral voice. The voice she used as a government official who wasn’t emotionally attached to any of the decrees she was making. Twilight had never liked that voice.

When Twilight didn’t respond, Celestia continued. “She is quite vexed with you, I must say. She was, after all, there at my behest.”

“Why?” Twilight whispered. “If what she said is true, and… and ponies wiped alicorns out… why is she still here?”

Celestia didn’t answer immediately. But eventually, she sighed. “Because she is still my sister, Twilight. She was misguided, like many of our kind. I begged her to reconsider, to accept that the old ways were over, and that something new was taking its place. But she could not accept it, and I could not watch her die. So I found an alternative.”

“But she hasn’t changed, has she?” Twilight demanded. “That’s why practically nopony has seen her in the last year. She still thinks alicorns are meant to be in charge, and ponies are just food.”

“It is not so simple as that,” Celestia replied, and now there was a hint of sadness peeking through her carefully cultivated exterior. “She is trying to adjust. But she has missed a thousand years of history, and in some ways, she is right. Alicorns still rule, and we still need ponies to survive.”

“But that’s different!” Twilight protested. “We asked you to rule us. You have everypony’s best interest at heart. Everypony loves you.”

Celestia nodded. “Perhaps. But would they still love me if they knew the truth? If I told them everything? I am not so sure.” She sighed, and in an instant, her mask broke. Sadness etched its way across her face, and her ears drooped and suddenly she looked her age. “That is why I waited so long to tell you everything. I was afraid I would lose your love. Your respect. I was afraid of what you would think of me. I should have known that in trying to avoid it, I instead caused it to come to pass.”

“No!” Twilight insisted. “That’s not true. You could never… I’ll always look up to you. No matter what. You… you were just doing what you thought was best. You stood up against injustice, and you had to deal with so much, and… I could never judge you.”

“That is… kind of you to say, Twilight. I have tried to do what I believe to be right, but… I am not the infallible, perfect being that so many have made me out to be. If you truly understood the mistakes I have made…” Celestia trailed off, and looked away. “But that is something I would rather not dwell on. Regardless… I do still hope that sparing Luna was not one of my mistakes.”

Silence stretched between them, Twilight looking down at the floor and Celestia apparently caught up in contemplation. Then, in a quiet voice, Twilight spoke. “I… I called Luna a monster, for treating ponies like… like things. But from what she said… you feed on ponies too. Prince Blueblood and his ancestors. Is that true?”

Celestia turned back to Twilight, her face once more a neutral mask. “Yes. His line has pledged their service to me in that regard for centuries. They keep our secret, and in return, they receive the status they so crave. It is a… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“So…” Twilight said cautiously, “It’s consensual, then. You don’t hurt him.”

Celestia nodded. “There is… a toll on a pony, sustaining an alicorn. But with proper understanding of the process, and a strong enough source, the effects are not permanent. This is something Luna and I can teach you, so you do not cause undue harm.”

There was a pause. “Who does Luna feed on?”

Celestia blinked. “Pardon?”

“Who does Luna feed on?” Twilight repeated. “She doesn’t have your arrangement. It doesn’t sound like a single pony can sustain you both. What about Cadance? How many thralls do you need?”

Celestia’s face fell. “So you are angry with me, after all.”

Twilight threw up her hooves. “I don’t know! Maybe! I just want to know when it’s going to end. How many changes are going to crop up out of nowhere, how many secrets have you been keeping from me? Why didn’t you tell me any of this before you changed me? Didn’t I have a right to know?”

There it was. There was a moment where the words hung in the air between them, and Twilight realized she could never take them back. She hadn’t meant to say those things to Celestia, didn’t want to see that look on her mentor’s face. But those questions had been bubbling up inside her so much for the past week that they had just spilled out of her, and now it was too late.

“I understand why you would be angry, Twilight,” Celestia said, her voice subdued. She looked away, unable to meet Twilight’s gaze. “When I ascended Cadance, I did so because I believed Equestria needed her. I knew Luna would soon return, and I feared for my ability to make the right choices if I faced her alone. But I miscalculated. For all the love in her heart, she still could not wield the Elements. But… she took well to being an alicorn, and my ponies did not fear her. I had hope that I might not have to be alone any longer.

“Imagine my surprise when I encountered you. A filly with so much potential she hatched a dragon egg with no training. You were… younger than I had hoped, but I was desperate. I needed someone to face Luna, and so I had to send you, unprepared as you were. And yet you exceeded even my lofty expectations. I knew in that moment that you would be my next ascension.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?” Twilight asked, but some of the fire had faded from her voice. Instead it was wounded, almost bitter. “You trusted me to solve your problems, but not keep your secrets?”

Celestia snapped her gaze back, her eyes wide. “Heavens no. I will always trust you, Twilight. I did not trust myself. I knew your ambitions, and you were not yet ready. If you even knew it was possible… I was afraid I would relent, and grant you ascension before the time was right, purely because I wanted so badly for you to understand, to join me in eternity. But you had more to learn, and I needed to be there for Luna. Granting you wings then would have done neither of you good.”

“Oh,” Twilight whispered, her emotions roiling in her gut. Righteous fury had been easy, once she had let it sweep her along. It was easy to be caught up in how she had been hurt, how so many others must have been hurt. Bitterness was comforting. It felt good to give voice to her wounds, to expose them to the air for Celestia to see. But now, those emotions were wrapped in guilt.

Celestia was lonely. All those years, and she’d never even considered that the most loved pony in all of Equestria could be lonely.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, meekly. “I didn’t… I never realized…”

Celestia stood, and pulled Twilight into a soft hug, her wings fully enveloping the smaller alicorn. “I told you once before that you do not need to apologize to me. You did not have all the facts, and you cannot fault yourself for making the best of what you had.” She pulled back slightly, just enough that she could look Twilight in the eye. “And that aside, you are an alicorn and a Princess now. You must not question yourself. Your ponies will expect you to have all the answers, and you must not shatter that belief, no matter how incorrect it may be. Such apologies are beneath your station.”

Twilight swallowed, furrowing her brow. Hesitantly, she nodded, but there was no conviction behind it. She knew already that Celestia was right about what ponies would expect of her, but surely lying to them wasn’t the answer. But she didn’t know how to put that into words, not when objecting would shatter that loving smile on Celestia’s face. “I… I understand that most ponies will never know the real me,” she finally said. “But most of them I’ll never meet. Surely if I just talk to ponies, tell them I’m just me, and they don’t have to treat me like I’m special...”

Celestia shook her head, her eyes soft. “That will only go so far,” she said simply. “They will always see you as a Princess first. Most will not accept your insistence otherwise, and trying to convince them will backfire. Even those that do grow close to you will never fully understand what it means to be an alicorn, just as you did not before you ascended.”

Twilight took a step back, and Celestia pulled her wings away, removing the smaller alicorn from her embrace. “But… I could tell them,” she insisted bullishly. “Fluttershy realized I needed meat, and she didn’t reject me. I warned Rarity about draining her magic and she didn’t care—”

Celestia raised one wing to cut her off. “Your friends share a bond with you that runs deeper than most. That allows them to accept your differences, when many would not. But spreading such secrets is dangerous, Twilight. Should the knowledge of what alicorns really are become too widespread, there would be… unrest. You cannot know who would keep your secrets, and who would be a danger to the stability I have built. You understand, don’t you?”

Twilight felt a weight in her gut, and slowly she nodded. She could tell her friends the truth, and they would understand. That would have to be enough, for now. But the idea of keeping such a secret for the rest of her life… for the rest of her eternal life… “I understand,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to be different from everypony else.”

I want to go back to being me.

“You can be strong,” Celestia murmured, her gaze softening further. “You will rise to the occasion, I am certain of it. You will make me proud.”

And how could she say no to that?

5: Soft and Hard Problems

Begrudgingly, Twilight allowed Luna to visit her dreams once more. She tried to ignore the way Luna sometimes said things that made her skin crawl, and focused instead on the lessons she was teaching. How to sense the flow of magic through her body, how to tell when her ‘tank’ was low, how to see the energy within every pony around her. She’d understood such thaumaturgical concepts for years, and she had instruments to measure it. But she’d never imagined that she would ever be able to see it.

She held her hoof out over the simulacrum of Rarity, plucking carefully at the edges of the twisting ball of magic within her, coiled like thousands of tiny strings. She grasped one, not with her hooves but with her own magic, and reeled it in, watching it unravel, layer after layer.

“Carefully,” Luna said softly from behind her. “Do not pull too much. If you find a strand connected too deeply to a pony’s core, you must cut it, lest you drain them entirely.”

Twilight nodded slightly, and flicked her head, severing the strand. With a snap, one end recoiled back to ‘Rarity’ and the other fell into her own being, joining the well of power within her. She wasn’t like Rarity, or any other pony for that matter. She didn’t have a tightly wound magical core. No, her magic flowed through her entire body, a liquid pool of power that surged just beneath her fur.

She couldn’t see Luna’s magic. She didn’t know if it was because Luna was powerful enough to block her newfound senses, or if it was simply because this was the dream realm, and Luna alone chose what she could see here. It was a question that would be answered as soon as she saw another alicorn in person, and so she didn’t ask it.

“What would happen?” Twilight asked softly, pulling her gaze away from the fake Rarity, who kept smiling at her. “You said if I wasn’t careful I could kill her. Is that what happens to a pony drained of magic?”

Luna shook her head. “Not immediately.” She stepped forward and ran one hoof along Rarity’s flank. “Ponies are still flesh and blood, after all. They do not need magic to live.” She reached into Rarity’s chest, and plucked out the glowing ball of energy. Strands of power curled out of it, stubbornly trying to keep it connected to the pony it belonged to, but Luna severed them with a careless tug. All that remained was a tiny glimmer, barely visible. “Remove a pony’s reserves, and they will lose their magic, for a time. Earth ponies will lose their strength, unicorns their spells, and pegasi their flight. But most will recover, eventually.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad—”

“But you can go further,” Luna continued as if Twilight hadn’t spoken. “Here, we have taken her magic, but not her spark.” She reached into Rarity again, her hoof closing around that faint glimmer. Rarity squirmed, grimacing, but didn’t pull away. Luna yanked, and Rarity collapsed. Held in the alicorn’s hoof was a tiny dark ball, glimmers barely flowing across its surface. “This is what creates a pony’s magic. It is their spark, and each one is unique. It is what grants a pony a special talent and a cutie mark. As alicorns, we can take these for ourselves, if we so choose.”

Twilight looked down at Rarity, who was groaning and trying to struggle back to her hooves. But what drew her eye immediately was her flank, which was as blank as the day she was born.

“You may find this useful, on occasion,” Luna added. “We do not do it lightly, of course, but some talents can prove too dangerous to allow, or too useful to let fade. And ponies will survive even this, albeit… diminished.” She looked down at Rarity, before adding softly, “Though… we find they usually lack the resolve to continue.”

Twilight pulled back, not liking where this was going. “What do you mean?”

Luna waved a hoof dismissively. “They choose not to go on. Usually they stop eating or caring for themselves. Sometimes they take more drastic measures, but most simply stop performing the tasks necessary for life.”

“They kill themselves?”

Luna nodded. “Yes, all but a very few. As we said, you must be careful. Once you have absorbed a pony’s spark, it becomes a part of you. We know of no way to separate it and return it to the pony it came from.”

“That’s horrible!” Twilight exclaimed. “That’s… so much worse than I imagined. And you’re saying I can do this by accident?”

“Yes,” Luna said, unperturbed. “If you were starved enough for magic. As you grew hungrier, your instinctive pull would grow stronger and stronger. If you denied it long enough, when it eventually grew beyond your ability to suppress, you would drain every pony around you until you were sated. And you are a very strong alicorn, Twilight Sparkle. You would be able to contain it longer than most, we suspect. Long enough to consume all of Ponyville, perhaps. Certainly long enough to cause an incident too big to hide.” She raised a hoof and pressed it into Twilight’s chest, looming over her. “This is why you cannot be allowed to do as you please, with no oversight. You would bring all of ponykind down on our heads in a foolish attempt to protect them.”

Twilight pushed Luna’s hoof away, refusing to be intimidated. “I should have known,” she muttered. “You still don’t care, do you? You’re only worried about me killing ponies because it would cause an incident.”

Luna took her hoof back, a frown briefly crossing her face, before she turned and stepped away. “You are still young,” she said quietly. “When you have lived for thousands of years, perhaps then you will appreciate how transient ponies are to us. They come and go, and the lives of the individual…” she paused, and then continued carefully. “It is not that they do not matter. But it is rare that a single pony changes the course of history. You, however, could change a great deal, and the consequences of your actions could have grave repercussions for Equestria as a whole. Forgive us if we are more concerned with the future of civilization itself.”

“Just because ponies aren’t immortal doesn’t mean they aren’t important,” Twilight objected. “They may not change the course of history, but they still have an impact on their friends, their families and neighbors.” She sighed. “I don’t want to do anything to break civilization. That’s why I’m still here, learning these lessons. Could you at least try to think of ponies as something with value?”

Luna snorted. “We have tried, Twilight Sparkle. It is among the many conditions our sister has placed upon us to show our face in modern society.” Her voice turned bitter. “No more may we demand worship, or take ponies that please us as our own. ‘Twould destroy what our sister has built, and we cannot risk her precious utopia, where alicorns must pretend to be something they are not to survive.” Luna turned back to Twilight, her gaze hard. “We will do what we must to adapt, as we always have. Your judgment in this matter grows wearying. You are here to learn, not lecture.”

Twilight glared. “I know you’re frustrated with the way things are, but I’ve lived in this world longer than you have, so if you’d just let me help—”

“We do not need thy help.” Luna cut her off, her body growing larger until she towered over Twilight, fire in her eyes. “You may be Celestia’s chosen, but you are still a fledgling. You see only one tiny piece of the world, and think your picture complete. Let us show you one you are missing.”

Luna opened her wings, and darkness spread from them until it blotted out everything else in the dream. Her fiery eyes were the last to fade, and when they did, the dream changed.

A grand palace rose around Twilight, dark stone walls covered in tapestries and lit by torches of pale blue fire. In the middle of a massive hall, flanked by two lines of pillars and a dozen attendants, lounged Luna. Not on a throne, but on a massive, sprawling divan. She gestured imperiously with one hoof, and the pony kneeling in front of her—a pegasus with a dirty brown coat—stood and bowed, before flying away.

The dream followed the pegasus, Twilight floating invisibly behind him, as days of travel passed in the blink of an eye. The pegasus landed at another castle, just as grand as Luna’s. This one held a pale green alicorn in a hard steel throne. The pegasus spoke, and the alicorn answered, but the scene conveyed no sound. Then, without warning, the alicorn’s horn lit, and a blast of magic arced out, striking the pegasus in the chest. He collapsed to the ground, and before Twilight had fully processed what had happened, another pony was pulling the body away, and the dream was zooming elsewhere.

Twilight found herself over a battlefield. Legions of ponies clashed below her, half with armor as black as night, and the others wearing gleaming silver. “Stop!” Twilight called out. “Luna, I didn’t ask for this!”

The dream ignored her.

Then there was an explosion below her, and Luna rose into the sky, in full battle regalia. She screamed a challenge, and from behind the silver army’s lines, the green alicorn rose to meet her. Luna shot a bolt of magic from her horn and the other alicorn deflected it with a brief shield, before returning with a bolt of her own. Luna twisted out of the way and dove towards her opponent. They met with a sickening crunch of hooves hitting flesh, the sound unnaturally loud given the impossibly silent battle below.

The alicorns fell together, but Luna was on top and clearly stronger. She kept one hoof pressed into the other alicorn’s head, keeping her horn pointing down, making her frantic energy blasts useless.

And then they hit the ground, and the battle stopped. Luna stood, and her entire body glowed with power. When she stepped forward, leaving the other alicorn unmoving and broken, both armies bowed before her.

Then Twilight found herself back in Luna’s castle, as if nothing had changed. There were different ponies attending Luna now, but she still lounged with the same indifferent expression on her face.

Then Luna turned to look directly at Twilight, and with a sudden hammering of her heart, she awoke.

Twilight stumbled from the bed, feeling sweat against her neck and sticking her wings to her back as she fumbled for a glass of water. She felt sick, and when she closed her eyes to try to settle herself, all she saw was the calculating, calm indifference on Luna’s face as she had murdered the other alicorn.

Luna had wanted her to see it. Wanted her to see her kill another member of her own kind, over a life she never cared about. She’d wanted Twilight to see what she was capable of. And Twilight had gotten the message, loud and clear.

Luna did not return to her dreams again.

As the days passed, Twilight settled into a routine that allowed her to spend most of her time in the library. She would spend her days studying the shards of the Elements or her own magic, and her nights being tutored by Luna on just how to be an alicorn, at least until she pushed too hard and Luna stopped appearing to her. Occasionally she would be forced to venture outside to visit Fluttershy to restock her supplies of meat, but the rest of her needs Rarity was happy to take care of. Rarity probably would have been happy to stop by Fluttershy’s cottage as well, but she didn’t yet know about all of Twilight’s needs. Twilight told herself it was because Rarity didn’t really need to know, and it was good for her to have a reason to venture outside anyway. But in truth, she knew it was because she was afraid of what Rarity would think, and she depended on her too much to risk it.

Increasingly, Rarity was taking up the mantle of her assistant, as Spike spent most of his time elsewhere. There was an unspoken agreement between them to pretend nothing was wrong, and so Spike didn’t comment when Rarity spent entire days in the library, and Twilight didn’t comment when Spike left without telling her where he was going. It wasn’t ideal, but Twilight had bigger things to worry about.

One of those things was monitoring very carefully just how much magic she was pulling from Rarity. Luna had been frustratingly correct about her inability to prevent herself from draining anything at all. The more she tried to limit herself, the sooner she would find herself drawing in power without even realizing it because she’d become too engrossed in her research. So instead she rationed it, allowing herself very careful “meals” each day so her own magic wouldn’t go looking for more when she wasn’t paying attention.

Rarity claimed that it tickled, having her magic drained from her. She treated the whole thing like it was a game, or even an opportunity for them to become more intimate. It was something they shared that no one else knew about, after all.

Twilight had tried to tell Rarity just how dangerous she was, tried to make her understand, but Rarity couldn’t see it. How she was just a tiny droplet that could be consumed by Twilight’s ocean if she drifted too close. She dismissed Twilight’s warnings, and Twilight was unwilling to give her a real demonstration of her new abilities.

Rarity spent almost all her free time at the library, now. She had claimed a corner of the basement as her own, and moved in a sewing machine and a ponnequin, enough to keep her occupied when Twilight didn’t need her. Despite how often she was present, Twilight still wasn’t sure what they were, exactly. She’d never formally agreed to be Rarity’s marefriend, and Rarity had carefully danced around any specific definitions. She was just always there, ready with encouragement, or a cup of tea delivered with a soft caress or a peck on the cheek.

Twilight didn’t want to tell her to stop, or to leave. So she quickly determined that it was easier to focus on her impossible research projects, rather than trying to determine the exact nature of her relationship with Rarity.

But despite spending nearly all her time on it, Twilight felt no closer to any breakthroughs on either of her projects. She had the ability to examine her own magical aura directly now, rather than relying on instruments, but that didn’t make the spell that made up her very being any less complicated. And looking at an active, constantly shifting spell was hardly ideal, either. She couldn’t take it apart or examine it while it was inert, after all—not if she wanted to be alive to do it. She was left with a jigsaw puzzle made up of briefly glimpsed, fuzzy pieces, with no way to tell when or if she would ever see them all.

The Elements, at least, were simpler. Their spellwork was complex too, of course, but they were at least inert, static. She could map each piece at her leisure without worrying if it would be different or gone entirely the next time she looked. But it, too, was a puzzle with pieces missing. It took weeks, but eventually she could no longer ignore the conclusion she had reached: the shards she had weren’t enough. She had a much better idea of just how the Elements worked—the way they drew power from their bearers, the complex mechanisms they used to channel and shape that power, even their connection to Equestria itself. But she still didn’t know why they had malfunctioned so catastrophically.

“This isn’t going to work,” she finally groaned, looking up from the table she had been working at for the first time in hours. Instinctively, she checked the link between herself and Rarity, ensuring that it was dormant. Once that was done, she stood. “I need more data.”

Rarity looked up from whatever project she had been working on, the sewing machine going still. “Where would we find that?” she asked. “Do you want to look through your books again?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, if there was anything to find in them we’d have found it already. We need to go back to the source. It’s time we took a closer look at that tree.”

Rarity sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that,” she said. “I can go fetch the other girls—”

Twilight interrupted her. “No, there’s no point. It’s not like there’s Elements for them to wield. All they could do is sit around and watch me do research, and I’m still surprised you put up with that.”

“I have ulterior motives, my dear,” Rarity said with a smile. “If no one was here to keep track of you, you’d never eat or sleep.”

Twilight snorted. “That may be true, but nopony said you had to be the one to do it. Regardless, I might as well do this myself.”

Rarity shook her head and jumped to her hooves. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you wander into that forest all on your own.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m much stronger now—”

“No buts, darling!” Rarity interrupted. “I’m coming, and you can’t stop me.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, but she was smiling inside. “Oh very well. If you insist.”

The Everfree Forest was dark and foreboding, but at least this time it wasn’t actively invading Ponyville. Unfortunately, that meant there was no convenient trail to follow to return to the cave that housed the strange tree. Twilight was relatively sure she knew the general direction, however, and how hard could it really be to find a massive fissure in the middle of the forest?

They walked for almost an hour as Twilight tried to remember when and where she had turned. The forest looked different without the vines winding everywhere through it, but she was sure she was at least going in generally the correct direction. All they had to do was pass close enough to the fissure to spot it. But as they kept walking longer and further without any sign of it, Twilight could tell Rarity was starting to worry.

“Shouldn’t we have arrived by now?” Rarity finally spoke up. “I don’t remember it taking this long last time…”

Twilight shook her head. “We were distracted last time. It probably seemed shorter than it was. I’m sure we’ll be there soon.”

“What if we’ve passed it, though?”

“I don’t think—” Twilight stopped suddenly, ears perking up. “Wait. Do you hear that?”

In the distance, but growing steadily louder, the sounds of howls drifted through the trees.

“Timberwolves!” Rarity yelped, backing away from the sound. “Run!”

“No! Rarity, wait!” Twilight encased Rarity in her magic, holding her in place. “If we run, we’ll be even more lost. Besides, only pegasi can realistically outrun a timberwolf over any real distance.”

“Then you get us out of here!” Rarity replied, gesturing to Twilight’s wings.

Twilight shrank back. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean…” she began, before trailing off. She’d spent the last several weeks ignoring her wings whenever possible, and she certainly hadn’t spent any time practicing with them. “I can’t actually… fly, yet. I mean, I’ve crashed every time I’ve tried. Besides, I’ve had other things to—”

“Twilight!” Rarity interrupted, her voice even higher pitched than normal, and Twilight turned to see that the time for running had passed.

A large timberwolf stepped out of the trees, a head taller than even Twilight. And it wasn’t alone, as dark shapes and yellow eyes peered out at them from the trees, the rest of the pack circling around to prevent their escape.

But that wasn’t what caught Twilight’s attention. What drew her eye was the magic swirling through the timberwolf. It was a twisted green and black, but it wasn’t a solid core of power, like Rarity and every other pony. It was a pool that filled its entire being, just like Twilight. It was just thinner, weaker, more diffuse.

“Oh,” Twilight murmured, fascinated. “Of course. You’re just sticks and magic, aren’t you? I mean, I knew timberwolves were magic, but I hadn’t really thought about it before.”

“Twilight, I’m sure that’s all very interesting, but don’t you think there might be more pressing matters,” Rarity interrupted from behind her. Her horn was glowing, prepared to cast a spell, but her gaze flicked fearfully between the creature in front of them and the shapes in the trees, unsure how to proceed.

Twilight shook her head. “No, don’t you see? They’re just spells. That’s all they are.” She reached out with her mind, and pulled. And like a river, the timberwolf’s magic flowed out of it, swirling around her.

It must have sensed something was wrong, because it growled and leapt forward. But it never landed. Twilight drew its essence away from it, and it collapsed into a pile of sticks mid-leap.

Another timberwolf growled its defiance and charged forward. Twilight raised a hoof to block, and it clamped its teeth down on her foreleg. Twilight yelped, and shook her leg, trying to throw it off. Magic swirled around her hoof, dislodged from the wolf and clinging to her instead, and the teeth in her arm dissolved into sticks and fell away, until the creature was nothing but a shimmer of magic and a pile of leaves. The punctures in her leg closed, without even a hint of blood.

Another wolf was stalking towards her, but it paused as it saw the fate of its packmate. Twilight just looked at it, and its resolve broke.

Yip! Yip!

With a cry of panic, it turned and fled, tail between its legs, and the rest of the timberwolves followed, their shapes melting back into the trees.

Twilight watched them go, until Rarity smacked her on the flank and reminded her the other unicorn was there.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?” Rarity demanded. “I was scared half to death!”

“I didn’t know,” Twilight admitted. “I hadn’t thought about how tied to their magic they were.”

She looked back to the ball of magic in her hoof, and with the smallest of motions, she absorbed it into herself. She gasped as the foreign magic interweaved with her own, and suddenly the forest was nothing like it had been before. Their trail was so obvious it might as well have been lit with neon paint, and she knew where the timberwolves had gone, and the distance and direction to Ponyville, and the locations of a half dozen rabbit burrows and game trails.

“I know where the tree is,” she murmured, surprising even herself. “The fissure is changing how the wind moves. It’s this way.”

Twilight stepped into the trees, and after a moment, Rarity got over her surprise sufficiently to follow her.

“What in Equestria happened back there?” she asked, after several seconds of silence. “I didn’t know alicorns could just… dissolve timberwolves.”

“That’s not really what happened,” Twilight muttered. “They’re not real creatures. They’re just piles of sticks bound together by magic. And… well, alicorns eat magic. All I had to do was pull it out of them, and then there was nothing left.”

Rarity considered that for a moment. “And that’s why you’re suddenly an experienced woodspony?”

Twilight nodded. “The spell that powered them is part of me now. It gave them their senses, their understanding of how to navigate in here, what signs meant what. It’s all in my head now.”

Rarity fell silent for a long moment, a frown on her face. Finally, quietly, she ventured, “...could you do that to a pony?”

Twilight stopped dead. “No! No, of course not!” she insisted. “Ponies are flesh and blood. You’re not held together with magic. If I took it away, you wouldn’t dissolve or fall apart or anything like that.”

“But you could take it, just as easily as you did with those timberwolves,” Rarity said quietly.

“...yes,” Twilight whispered. “I tried to tell you.”

“And I didn’t listen,” Rarity murmured, before letting out a soft laugh. “I should have known better, I suppose. But you do have a tendency to exaggerate your worries, dear.”

Twilight blinked. “You’re not… afraid of me?”

Rarity shook her head. “No, why would I be? I already knew you had power. It’s part of what makes you so attractive.” She stepped forward, reaching up with one hoof to cup Twilight’s face. “I don’t have to be afraid, Twilight. It’s even a little… thrilling, knowing what you could do, if you really wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t!” Twilight hastily insisted.

Rarity shook her head, and flashed Twilight a smile. “I want to be with you, Twilight. World-shattering power and all.” She pressed herself against Twilight, rising up to kiss her on the cheek.

Twilight’s heart fluttered. She laid her head on Rarity’s, marveling only briefly that she was tall enough to do so. She wrapped her hooves around Rarity, and was rewarded with a happy sigh. The whisper of the forest around them faded, until it was drowned out by the beat of Rarity’s heart. Twilight could taste that rhythm, the way her very soul pulsed and shimmered through her.

Rarity’s magic sparked just beneath her fur as they embraced, tantalizingly close to Twilight’s overwhelming black hole. A thought pierced her. Is this how changelings feel all the time?

Twilight jerked back, pushing Rarity away with a shudder. Her wings rustled in discomfort, reminding her they were there, and she pushed down the wave of disgust that surged through her. “No, no, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t,” she panicked.

Rarity tried to step forward again, only moments after regaining her balance. “Twilight?” she ventured, her eyes shimmering.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight murmured, stepping away. “I want to. I wish I could just... be okay. But every time you get too close I’m afraid I’ll hold you so tight there’ll be nothing left.”

Rarity stopped. “I trust you, Twilight,” she said, as if saying it could somehow fix everything.

“I don’t,” Twilight whispered.

Silence stretched between them, neither knowing what to say. Finally, wordlessly, Twilight turned and continued towards the tree in the middle of the woods.

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Rarity followed.

Prologue: Dreams and Nightmares

The bell above the door to Carousel Boutique jingled, and Rarity stepped out of the back to find Twilight Sparkle standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Twilight!” she called, a smile spreading across her face. “So good to see you. What brings you by?”

Twilight lit her horn and levitated a pair of dresses out of her saddlebags. Looking down, she muttered, “I, uh… need some alterations.”

“Again?” Rarity asked, taking the garments and holding them up, looking between them and the newly-minted alicorn. “That’s the third time this month. Perhaps it would be better to wait until you’ve… fully adjusted?”

Twilight grumbled. “I can’t. The Summer Sun Celebration is next week, and Celestia expects me to help with the ceremony. And I’ll be attending the celebration as an official Princess of Equestria.” She sighed softly. “I need these to fit.”

Rarity nodded. “Of course, of course. I understand completely. Come on, then, let me take your measurements.”

Twilight allowed herself to be led to one of the mirrored alcoves as Rarity fetched her measuring tape. Soon the fashionista was busy taking measurements and jotting down numbers.

“You’ve grown another inch,” she said after a moment. “At this rate, you’ll look like the other Princesses in no time at all.”

Twilight shot a glare at the tape, as if it was somehow responsible for all this. “If it means these growth spurts stop sooner, I’ll take it.” She stretched, extending her wings unconsciously, and then blinked and took a moment to wrangle them back into place. Wings had always seemed so much easier to manage when Rainbow Dash did it. “It’s like going through puberty all over again, but twice as fast. It’s the worst.”

Rarity waved a hoof. “Surely it can’t be that bad. A few months of ill-fitting dresses, and a lifetime of being a Princess in exchange. I would take that trade in a heartbeat.”

Twilight turned, ignoring Rarity’s annoyed huff as she left the tape measure behind. “It’s not just that! I’ve got cramps in muscles I didn’t even have a month ago, I’m constantly bumping into things, I’m always hungry, I can’t even fly properly yet… and I have no idea how long this will last or if it’s even supposed to be happening! I’m charting my progress, of course, but it’s not like I have a control to compare against. I don’t know if what’s happening to me is totally normal or a sign that something is terribly wrong and I’m about to keel over. It’s so frustrating.”

Rarity hmmed, taking hold of one of Twilight’s wings in her telekinetic grasp and continuing her measurements. “Surely you could ask Princess Celestia? She must have some idea what will happen, mustn’t she?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “I did. I wrote her a letter with a detailed list of my symptoms. She told me I was an alicorn now, and therefore highly unlikely to suddenly drop dead for no reason, and that I should stop worrying so much.” The alicorn huffed. “She called me histrionic. That was the word she used. Histrionic. And after I sent her all that data!”

“How very rude,” Rarity agreed, knowing better than to side with anypony other than the alicorn in front of her. And it was true, even if privately she knew Twilight could sometimes be a little… overenthusiastic. It still wasn’t something one said to her face.

“Darling, I’m sure everything will be fine,” Rarity added after a moment of Twilight quietly grumbling. “You’re a strong, clever mare, and you’ve made it through far worse. It may be a little uncomfortable now, but you’ll hardly remember it once it’s over.”

Twilight smiled, for the first time that day. “Thanks, Rarity,” she murmured. “I guess I just needed someone to vent to.”

Rarity waved a hoof. “Think nothing of it, dear. I’m always here if you need a guiding hoof.” She stepped back and took a moment to examine Twilight. “That should be everything I need. Come back tomorrow and I’ll have everything ready.”

Twilight walked slowly through the darkened streets of Ponyville, lost in her thoughts. A cold wind blew in from the Everfree, bringing with it the late autumn scent of decay. The streets were empty, darkened houses looming just at the edges of her vision. Signposts creaked in the wind, and in the distance, a shutter slammed closed.

There was a soft snap from under her hooves, and she stopped, looking down. A long, purple feather lay in the middle of the street, its shaft cracked where she had stepped on it. She stared at it, and then slowly looked around. There were dozens, if not hundreds more strewn ahead of her, haphazardly covering the path. She looked up, scanning the dark gray sky for something that could have dropped them, but it was empty. With growing dread, she looked behind her, and screamed.

Twisted, bloody lumps of flesh writhed upon her back, plucked clean of feathers and dripping trails of blood down her coat. They squirmed as if alive, and she pulled away in revulsion. “No no no get them off get them off get them off!” she pleaded, trying desperately to escape her own body. Finally, in desperation, she lunged at them, her mouth closing around the thin bases. She tasted the acrid, coppery tang of her own blood, and she felt it as her teeth grew to sharpened, deadly points. With one wrenching tug, she tore through what was left of her wings, throwing them away and panting heavily.

The stumps did not bleed. Instead, as she watched, new wings sprouted in their place. But these ones were black as night, thin and leathery like a bat. They dwarfed her previous wings, shrouding her from the sun. Wherever their shadows touched her, she felt herself changing. Her fur lengthened, becoming thick and shaggy and unruly. Her hooves sharpened and gleamed like metal. Her tail fell out in clumps, and was replaced with something long, sinuous and scaly, which moved of its own accord. “No no no, please stop,” she begged, but her body ignored her. Her muzzle elongated, and the sharpened teeth grew longer, tips peeking out no matter how she tried to cover them. Even her horn curved forwards, the tip turned into a weapon.

She cowered on the ground, head in her hooves, pleading and begging for the changes to stop. Then she heard a terrified scream, and her head snapped up. A pony was in trouble!

But all she saw, just ahead of her, was a crowd of ponies, looking at her in terror. As she moved they panicked, pulling foals along with them as they fled from her. All around her, ponies screamed, fleeing into their homes and locking the doors. “No! Wait!” she called desperately. “I’m not going to hurt you! I’m not a monster! Please, come back.”

She turned, and behind her was Rarity. Rarity wasn’t screaming, just looking at her in shock, one hoof over her mouth. “Rarity,” Twilight said gratefully, taking a step towards her, “Please… help—”

Rarity let out a small gasp, and then turned tail and ran. “No!” Twilight yelled, her hooves moving instinctively to chase her. They left shallow gashes in the ground wherever they touched, but despite her body feeling stronger and more powerful than it ever had before, she couldn’t catch up with Rarity. The unicorn led her down street after street, always just vanishing around the next corner no matter how fast she ran. The houses grew closer together, the alleys she was being led through growing narrower as she went, until finally, she turned another corner and stepped out into nothing.

She was falling, the light from above fading out as she plummeted into blackness. Her wings flailed, but they were useless, unable to provide any lift. Above her, she could see Rarity watching her fall, relieved. The monster was vanquished, and the pony was safe. But soon, even that vision faded, and Twilight was sinking, drowning in darkness. She struggled and tried to scream, but only a strangled noise came out, the abyss around her swirling like liquid. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she was drowning and no one wanted to help her—

Her eyes snapped open, but the darkness did not abate. She screamed, her voice muffled, and struggled against her bindings until her horn lit and she tore the blankets apart, freeing herself from their embrace. Panting heavily, her entire body slick with sweat, she stared up at the ceiling of her room. Just a nightmare. Just a dream. None of it was real. She looked down at her wings, bedraggled and hanging limply against her sides, and a strangled squeak escaped her. Those aren’t mine I don’t have wings those aren’t mine those aren’t mine—

“Twilight?” a voice called from outside her door. “Are you alright?”

Twilight tore her gaze away from the wings. She swallowed, tried to speak, stopped, and tried again. “F-fine, Spike. I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

The dragon paused for a long moment. Finally, he spoke again, his voice hesitant. “Alright, if you’re sure. Goodnight, Twilight.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

The shadow outside her door moved away, and slowly, her breathing returned to normal, her heart no longer trying to hammer out of her chest. She risked a glance back down, and was relieved to find that her wings were her own again. All the feathers were intact, and they were supposed to be there.

She rolled over, shivering. She didn’t close her eyes again.

The bell above the door of Carousel Boutique jingled. Rarity stepped out to greet the customer, but stopped when she saw her. “Goodness, Twilight, you look absolutely dreadful,” she said instead, approaching the alicorn. There were bags under Twilight’s eyes, her fur and mane were hopelessly tangled, and her feathers were in such disarray that she was lucky Rainbow Dash wasn’t in the room. “What happened to you?”

“Gee, thanks,” Twilight muttered. “I just didn’t sleep very well. It’s fine. Can I just get my dresses?”

Rarity hmphed. “It is certainly not fine. Come on, let me get you fixed up. Would you like some tea?” Her horn lit up, and she flipped the sign in the window to the ‘Closed’ side, before practically dragging Twilight into the back.

Before Twilight could work up the energy to protest, there was a teapot on the stove and she was standing in front of an array of mirrors. She blinked at the image of herself. She really did look terrible, she had to admit.

Behind her, Rarity stepped up with a brush, and started working the tangles out of her mane. Twilight snorted. “I can brush my own mane, Rarity,” she protested weakly, even though the feeling of the brush in her hair was rather nice.

“Obviously not, or you wouldn’t have left your house in such a state,” Rarity scolded. After a moment, her expression softened, and she added, “What’s wrong, darling?”

Twilight shook her head. “I just… couldn’t sleep. I had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Rarity frowned. “You had a nightmare, and it spooked you so badly you forgot how to groom yourself. Come now, you can hardly expect nopony to notice.”

Twilight hesitated, before a sigh escaped her lips. “Rarity, if I changed… you would still be my friend, right? No matter how different I was?”

Rarity blinked, and then laughed. “Twilight, darling, is that what has you so worked up? Of course I would. Nopony is going to abandon you just because you’re an alicorn, or a princess. We all love you for you, Twilight. A pair of wings and a crown won’t change that.”

Twilight shook her head. “I know that,” she whispered. “I should know that. I should be happy that Celestia trusts me enough to give me such responsibility. But in my dreams… in my dreams I’m turning into a monster. And everypony runs away. Even you.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Rarity murmured, before pulling her into a hug. “You’re not a monster. You’ll always be welcome here. No matter what.”

Twilight closed her eyes, leaning into the hug and burying her muzzle in Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity’s coat was clean and well-brushed and smelled wonderful, and here she was getting tears all over it. “Thank you, Rarity,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

1: The Best Laid Plans

Twilight stared up at the newest stained glass window in front of her. It depicted a purple alicorn rising gracefully into the air, a crown on her head and a starburst emblazoned over the sun behind her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite accept that the princess depicted there was supposed to be her.

“You look amazing, darling,” Rarity said, coming to stand next to her as the rest of the group stood nearby. “They’ve really captured your regality.”

“I suppose,” Twilight muttered.

Rarity nudged her lightly. “Come now, Twilight. I know it’s not everything you expected, but it’s everypony’s dream to be crowned a princess and have their coronation immortalized in stained glass for all to see.”

“I don’t know if it’s every pony’s dream,” Rainbow Dash said skeptically, forelegs crossed as she hovered behind them.

“Most of my dreams are about frosting!” Pinkie chimed in, licking her lips as her eyes glazed over.

“We’d better get going,” Fluttershy stepped forward. “We don’t want to miss our train.”

“Fluttershy’s right,” Applejack agreed. “Don’t know about y’all, but I’ve still got bushels to do to get ready. The official celebration may be here in Canterlot, but whoo-wee has the Mayor put us in charge of one heck of a party back home.”

Twilight hung her head, her gaze travelling to the floor, but Applejack was quick to step forward and lift her chin with a hoof. “Aw, don’t look like that, sugarcube. You get to be right there with the other princesses when Celestia raises the sun.”

“And I’m honored,” Twilight said quickly. “Really, I am. It’s just that the Summer Sun Celebration is what first brought us all together. It just doesn’t feel right not getting to spend it with all of you.”

“It doesn’t feel right to us either, darling,” Rarity said. “If the Mayor wasn’t so desperate for our assistance, we’d most certainly stay here in Canterlot.”

Twilight met Rarity’s gaze, but after only a moment, Rarity looked away, biting her lip. Twilight held in a sigh, closing her eyes in acceptance.

Applejack spoke up again, touching a hoof to Twilight’s shoulder. “Twi, the Summer Sun Celebration may have brought us together, but it’s something much bigger that’ll always keep us connected.”

She took a step towards the other side of the hall, gesturing dramatically with one hoof at another stained glass window, the one that depicted the six of them defeating Nightmare Moon. “Exhibit A! The six of us are united by the Elements of Harmony. Nothing is ever gonna change that. Right everypony?”

There was a chorus of agreements and nods from the rest of the group.

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Fluttershy murmured. “We’ll be back together again before you know it.”

“I know,” Twilight murmured back. “I just… don’t want to be alone, is all.”

There was a moment of silence as the others looked between themselves. “Actually,” Rarity spoke up. “...why don’t I stay here in Canterlot? If you’ll have me, of course, Twilight.”

Twilight blinked, and her face lit up. “What? Of course! But… doesn’t the Mayor need you?”

Rarity waved a hoof. “She’s got plenty of able ponies to help. She doesn’t need all of us, I would think.” She stepped forward and smiled. “Besides, I think you might need me more.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Fluttershy said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll manage without Rarity.”

“Yeah, I mean, she was just gonna be doing decorations anyway—” Rainbow began, before pausing at the look Rarity was giving her. “—which are super important but it’s not like I can’t handle it. How hard could it be?”

Rarity smirked. “I’m sure you’ll be more than capable, Rainbow Dash. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

“...right,” Rainbow muttered. “Right. Sure.”

There was a chorus of laughter, and Rainbow crossed her forelegs again. As she grumbled, Rarity stepped up next to Twilight. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered. “I told you I wouldn’t leave, and I won’t. Everything is going to be fine.”

Twilight fell onto the bed, winced, and then pulled her wing out from under her and straightened it. “I think that’s everything,” she said, her voice weary. “Though, maybe we should run through the checklist one more time…”

Spike raised a claw, about to object, but Rarity put one hoof on his forehead and spoke up instead. “Darling, we’ve been over everything three times already. You’ve done all that you can. Besides, the ceremony isn’t until the day after tomorrow. You can check again in the morning.”

Twilight raised her head. “But what if I’ve missed something? What if the checklist isn’t complete? Oh no, Spike, is there a checkbox for making sure the checklist is complete? Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

“Twilight!” Spike interrupted. “It’s fine! You did think of that earlier. That was part of the checklist for making the checklist. We finished that days ago.”

“Oh. Right.” Twilight laughed sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m just all worked up. This is the first real royal duty Celestia has given me, and I can’t mess up anything.”

“And I’m sure you won’t,” said a new voice, as Celestia stepped into the room. She smiled down at Twilight, and then a slight frown crossed her face as she saw Rarity. “Ah, Rarity. What a pleasure. I hadn’t expected you to still be here.”

Rarity sank into a hasty bow. “Princess Celestia! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

Twilight and Spike were quick to follow suit, and Celestia waved a hoof. “Oh, none of that. You’re a Princess now, Twilight. You have no need to bow to anyone.” Turning to Rarity, she added, “And you are her guest. You have no need to bow to me either.”

“Sorry!” Twilight blurted.

“No need to apologize, Twilight. I know there is much to get used to.” She glanced to Rarity, but her words continued to be addressed to Twilight. “Actually, I had hoped to speak to you alone.”

Rarity straightened hastily. “Oh! Of course, Princess. Pardon me.” She started for the door, paused, and then grabbed Spike by the ear and dragged him out with her.

Celestia’s smile remained on her face until they were gone, and then she turned to Twilight. “I wanted to ask how you were doing, Twilight. I know you said you were having some trouble adjusting.”

Twilight took a step back, suddenly wary. “N-no, it’s fine, really. It’s just… a big change, is all. Rarity is helping me get used to it.”

Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. You two do seem to be getting rather close.”

Twilight squeaked in protest, and a blush rose to her cheeks. “It’s not like that!”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Celestia added quickly. “It’s not my place to pry. But I’m glad that you have somepony to help you through this. Rarity is a good friend.”

“She is,” Twilight agreed, a wistful look crossing her face as she looked to the door Rarity had just left through.

There was a moment of silence before Celestia spoke again. “I am glad to hear you are doing better, Twilight. There is… much about alicorns that most ponies do not know. We are… different in more ways than even the obvious.” She sighed softly. “It is something we will have to discuss at length before too much longer. But it is late, and I do not wish to distract you from your preparations. If you do not have any pressing concerns, it can wait.”

Twilight hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“...yes, I am.” Celestia shook her head. “I do not want to trouble you with such things, not when we are practically upon the eve of the first true Summer Sun Celebration in a thousand years.”

Twilight cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

Celestia turned, and then stepped up to the window. Outside, the moon had just risen, and framed in its light was Luna, standing on the balcony of one of Canterlot Castle’s many towers. “For the past thousand years, the Summer Sun Celebration has been a reminder to me that I was forced to banish my own sister. But now, for the first time, it is a chance for us to celebrate being reunited. I admit that I, too, am striving to make sure everything is perfect. Luna deserves a chance to shine again.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

Celestia turned back to her. “That is why everything else can wait. After the Summer Sun Celebration, we will have all the time in the world to talk.”

“Of course, Princess.”

Celestia smiled again. “Get some sleep, Twilight. I will see you in the morning.”

“Twilight! Twilight, wake up!”

Twilight opened her eyes, groggy. She’d been dreaming again, but the pieces fell away from her before she could grasp them. Instead she looked up at Rarity’s face and blinked. “Huh?” she asked eloquently.

“Twilight, you must come see this, quickly. Something has gone terribly wrong.” Rarity practically dragged her out of bed and to the window.

Twilight stared, and then rubbed her eyes. But when she opened them again, the same impossible sight greeted her: The sun and the moon were both up, and the sky was half day and half night. “I don’t understand.”

“Surely you must have some idea what could have caused this?” Rarity asked, her voice quavering and a worried look on her face.

Twilight frowned. “I don’t know. But I know who will. Come on, Spike.” She nudged the dragon’s basket, and he awoke with a groan.

“Twilight? What time is it?” he mumbled.

“Great question,” she replied. “We’ll add that one to the list.” She plucked Spike out of bed with her magic, settling him on her back before he could offer further protest. Instead, with a shrug, he leaned into her mane and closed his eyes again.

When she stepped out into the Canterlot streets, she was greeted by mass confusion. Ponies were milling about, discussing the broken sky with varying levels of panic in their voices. Then somepony spotted her.

“It’s Princess Twilight! She’ll know what’s going on!”

In an instant, she was surrounded. “What happened to the sky?” someone yelled.

“Well, uh, I’m not sure yet—”

“Can you fix it?”

“I’m sure once we know what’s happ—-”

“Where’s Princess Celestia? Is she alright? Did something happen? Are we under attack?”

“I was going to see her— I’m sure she’s— I don’t—”

Twilight couldn’t even finish a sentence without being bombarded with another question. The crowd was creeping closer, each new questioner shoving to the front to get her attention. She backed up, but soon found herself backed against a wall, with nowhere to run. She scanned around for Rarity, but somehow the crowd had gotten between them, hiding her from view.

She couldn’t even hear individual questions anymore, so many ponies were talking. “Could you please— One at a time— Please—” She took a breath.

“WOULD YOU ALL JUST BE QUIET!”

Her voice sliced through the noise, and suddenly it was dead silent. Twilight smiled, and the nearest ponies recoiled from her. “I am trying to find out what is going on. Once I have spoken to Celestia, I am sure we will fix this and you can all go back to your normal lives. Now let me through.”

Immediately, the crowd parted. Twilight marched through the gap, grabbing Rarity with one hoof as she passed. “Come on. Let’s fix this.”

“Oh! Y-yes, of course,” Rarity managed, flustered. After a moment she was following Twilight without having to be pulled along. “Are you alright, darling?”

“I’m fine,” Twilight snapped.

“No you aren’t,” came a voice from her back. Spike was watching her, a frown on his face. “I haven’t seen you snap like that since Pinkie Sense.”

Twilight opened her mouth to object, before she sagged, the fight draining out of her. Rarity was quick to step up and offer her a shoulder to lean on. “I’m just… tired. I’ve only had these wings for a month and already everypony is treating me differently. It seems like once you’re a Princess, everypony just expects you to have all the answers.”

“It’s a lot of responsibility you never asked for,” Rarity said quietly. She looked away, before adding, “I do apologize if I caused you any distress. I may have been too focused on the glamour of being a Princess, instead of on what it actually entailed.”

Twilight shook her head. “Oh no, of course not. I’m just glad to have you here, Rarity. I don’t know what I’d do if I was trying to deal with all this alone.”

“Your Highness!” A new voice reached them, as a royal guard galloped to meet them. He offered Twilight a quick bow, before continuing, “Please, come with me. It’s urgent.”

“Actually,” Twilight said, “We were just going to meet with Celestia—”

“Yes, that makes sense,” the guard interrupted. “That is what we must speak to you about. But in private.”

Twilight and Rarity exchanged a glance, and Rarity shrugged. The guard didn’t seem to notice, already leading the way towards the palace. Soon, several other guards appeared to make sure Twilight wasn’t mobbed by any more crowds.

Once they were safely inside the palace and the doors were closed, the guard turned to Twilight. He paused, glanced at Rarity, and then continued anyway. “It’s the princesses, Your Highness. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna… they’ve both vanished.”

Rarity gasped. Twilight wished she had that luxury. “What do you mean, vanished?”

“Just that, Your Highness. We cannot find them anywhere.” He paused, and then bowed. A moment later, the other guards in the room followed suit. “This is why we came to you. We await your command.”

Twilight blinked, pointing vaguely at herself with a hoof. “My command?”

The guard looked up. “We are officers of the Royal Guard. That means we take our orders from royalty. With the Princesses missing, and Cadence in the Crystal Empire, that means we take our orders from you.”

“Right. Of course.” Twilight took a deep breath, feeling suddenly dizzy. After a moment, she felt Rarity’s hoof on her shoulder, and her breathing steadied. “Alright. Keep looking for the Princesses. If you find anything at all, let me know immediately. I’m going to try to find—”

The doors slammed open, and another guard rushed in. “Your Highness! News from Ponyville! The Everfree Forest appears to be… invading!”

Twilight took a moment to stare, and then took a long breath, touching one hoof to her chest and then extending it out. “Oh. Of course. Why wouldn’t everything go wrong all at once?”

The guard didn’t catch her sarcasm. “What should we do, Your Highness?”

Twilight took another breath, trying to push down the panic rising in her chest. She looked to Rarity, who smiled encouragingly back at her. “Alright. We need to get to Ponyville. As fast as possible.”

The guard saluted. “I will prepare a chariot immediately.”

It was difficult to pace in the carriage of a flying chariot, but Twilight felt she was doing a rather good job of it anyway. A thousand worries were rushing through her head, and there were too many to focus on any of them.

“Twilight, you’re making me nervous,” Spike spoke up. His claws were clasped together in front of him, but his fidgeting still displayed his discomfort.

Rarity waved a hoof in his direction to shush him. “She has a lot on her mind,” she hissed in a stage whisper that did nothing to stop Twilight from hearing it. Even the guards pulling the chariot could probably hear it, but part of their duty was to pretend to hear nothing at all, especially when transporting royalty. “Give her some time to think it through.”

Twilight turned on them. “A lot on my mind? I’ll say! I can’t be Princess! I mean, I know I’m a princess, but I can’t be Princess princess! Ugh! You know what I mean!”

Rarity nodded. “Yes, I think I do. It’s alright, Twilight. I’m sure we’ll find them. Though, I don’t know why they would be in Ponyville…”

Twilight threw up her hooves. “They’re not! Probably! But Princesses Celestia and Luna disappearing and the Everfree Forest going crazy at the same time can’t be a coincidence, and at least I know where the forest is! And more importantly, where everypony else is. There’s no way this isn’t an Elements of Harmony problem.”

Rarity brightened. “Oh, yes, of course. So long as we have the elements, there will be nothing to worry about.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Twilight muttered. “I can’t blast the whole forest. I mean, probably. And even if we find out what’s behind all this, it might not mean we get Celestia back. What if we can’t get Celestia back? Apparently that puts me in charge, which is a terrible idea! I’ve been a Princess for a month, Rarity! I don’t even know how to be an alicorn yet!” She slammed a hoof into the floor of the chariot in frustration, leaving a spiderweb of cracks, but she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, her belly rumbled, loud enough for everypony to hear it. “And I didn’t even have breakfast! How am I supposed to fix this if I can’t even remember to eat?”

“Twilight! Twilight, darling, please.” Rarity stood up, wobbling slightly in the moving chariot, and threw her forelegs around Twilight. “We are all counting on you, but that’s because we know you can do it. You didn’t need wings to stop Nightmare Moon, or Discord, or Sombra. You didn’t stop being the pony we admire because of a few new appendages and a title.” She pulled back and looked Twilight directly in the eyes. “I believe in you, Twilight. So take a deep breath, and we’ll get through this.”

Twilight gulped, Rarity's muzzle suddenly very close to her own. She could feel her cheeks burning, and was trying to figure out what to say when—

“Yeah! What she said,” Spike chimed in.

Twilight turned to glare at Spike, but he was oblivious. Instead she closed her eyes, taking in a long breath. When she opened them again, she felt like she could think straight again. “Right. You’re right. I'll be fine.” After a moment she risked looking back at Rarity, and then just as quickly turned away again. Rarity let out a soft ‘oh’ and hastily disentangled her forelegs from Twilight’s shoulders.

They spent the rest of the chariot ride trying very hard not to look at each other.

When the chariot arrived in Ponyville, it went straight to Twilight’s library. Even still, they spent enough time on approach to see the dark vines that crept out from the forest, curling around houses at the edge of town and slowly spreading inward. The streets were abandoned, the residents having already fled the encroaching threat, or shut themselves inside their homes.

Twilight practically flung herself out of the chariot before it had even come to a stop, and was already making a plan by the time she opened the door. “We’ll grab the Elements, and then find the rest of the girls, they’re probably out—”

She paused, blinking at the scene in front of her, of her friends ransacking her bookshelves for anything they could find. “Or - perhaps we won’t need to find them at all.”

Fluttershy squeaked, hiding the book she was holding behind her back as though that would make Twilight forget about it. “Twilight! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. We didn’t mean to intrude, but we didn’t know what else to do…”

“These darned plants don’t act like anything I’ve ever seen before,” Applejack cut in. “They just do whatever they please, and even us earth ponies can’t do nothing about it.”

“The clouds won’t listen either!” Rainbow added. “Not even to me! I sent the rest of the weather team home, but Fluttershy thought your library might have something that could help.”

Pinkie bounced up and gave Twilight a hug. “And now that you’re here, we’ll have it fixed up lickety-split! That’s why you’re here, right? Oh! We aren’t making you miss the celebration in Canterlot, are we?”

Twilight shook her head. “There’s not going to be a celebration if we don’t fix this,” she muttered grimly. “Celestia and Luna have both vanished.” There was a series of gasps from the room, but Twilight didn’t have time to indulge them. “This problem with the forest has to be related, I hope.”

Twilight stepped past her friends, opening up the display case that contained the Elements of Harmony with a flick of her horn. “Whatever is causing this, it’s gotta be in that forest somewhere.” She passed out the Elements to their bearers, and then turned to address them all. “Which means we’re gonna have to go in after it.”

“Oh no,” Fluttershy whispered.

Pumping her hoof in the air, Rainbow Dash flew towards the ceiling, already raring to go. “That’s what I’m talking about! We’ll teach that forest not to mess with us!”

Applejack was more hesitant. “Are you sure, Twilight? This is mighty strange, even for the Everfree. I don’t know if going in there when we don’t even know what we’re up against is such a good idea.”

“Well, it’s the only idea we have,” Twilight snapped. “We have to stop this, and there’s no time to lose. The longer we wait, the longer the Princesses are missing, and the more likely it is that something terrible happens to them. I have to save them. I know it’s risky, but we can’t afford any delays.”

Rarity stepped up next to her, putting a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “Twilight is right, everypony,” she agreed. “We may not have much to go on, but it is enough to be sure the need is urgent. We’ll be fine as long as we stick together. Besides, Applejack, wasn’t it you who said that the Elements would keep us together?”

“Now, that ain’t what I meant—”

“Come on, you heard them, AJ!” Rainbow cut in. “We’re wasting time!” She gave Twilight an exaggerated salute. “Just point the way, fearless leader!”

Twilight nodded. “Those vines we saw on the way in. They’ve got to have a source, and they’re probably all from the same plant. If we follow them, it’ll lead us right to whatever is causing this. Then we hit it with the Elements. Simple.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Spike piped up. “Let’s go.”

Twilight paused, and then shook her head. “Actually… you’re going to have to stay here, Spike. Someone needs to maintain order, tell the Mayor where we’ve gone, keep the townsfolk safe.”

Spike crossed his arms. “What about keeping you safe?” he grumbled. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Twilight put on a smile that she didn’t really feel. “I’m an alicorn now, remember? I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be fine. Come on, Spike, ponies need you here.”

Spike sighed. “Fine. But you’d better have a good story when you come back.”