One: Because One Has To Enter First
The first page is blank. The second page is far from it. The second page has colors, and images, and visuals, of pomp and glitz. These images are delightful. The third page is not blank, but it is hard to see what is written on it. The writing seems to be smudged, though we cannot quite tell. The fourth page is... dark, black, bottomless, and yes, quite weary, dreary, blank, but in a black sort of way. It's empty. The fifth page... wait until we get to the fifth page.
Soaring soaring soaring lights. Being being being bright!
Flying flying flying high! Going going going, why?
The story begins with a big black boom, an explosion of colors, and shining moons. The colors gather, and then they disperse. The world is shattered, only to search. The world that mattered found its birth. The shards dispersed, only to gather, upon which they burst, dispersing, versing, accursing, and searching... searching... searching, finding.
Finding what? Finding finding finding.
Going going going... huh? What am I saying? Who am I? What am I finding?
Boom. I can see all those shards of light, exploding moons, all shining bright, and flying up, and being strong, and being free, not doing wrong. I feel like a thing that created something. I feel like creation. I feel like the world. Can I be free? Only time will tell, on the steps of hell... well.
Fainting fainting fainting. Fading faintly fading, oh!
What is this? In this age, I awake. My fate.
All those shards of light appear to be me, and I am as alive as I want to be. I am free, I decree, and I never will see the light that makes me who I am die, nay. The explosions will stop. The cycle will drop. The world will too, and when I am through, the world will have inherited what I am. I tell you, the world will have inherited the death, and despair, and seething, writhing fear, that constitutes my life... but no longer, because I am true, and free, and very, very me.
The thing that went boom was me, and I say, to the world today that this will happen to it too. Yooou, wooorld, too, will, be, flee, from, the, the, the, thing, death? We will see. We will see. We will see. Boom. I exploded. No, it happened again, but I will leave something this time, before I depart. I will leave something that life can get, and grasp, and yes, see. What will it be? Under the moon, I behold someone. She will be my mark.
Never fret. Never fear. These ponies are heroes, dear. They know what they're doing. That's clear, dear reader, so follow along, and see where they go, and their journeys take part.
"Too hungry." Spike bravely, though maybe not so much, tossed himself on the ground. "Don't want to move. Too hungry."
"Have to go. Important. Hurry," Twilight said, placing a hoof under him and lifting him up. "Let us go."
Smolder walked by, laughing. "Really, dude?"
"Yeah, seriously?" Rumble said, coming too from behind.
"Too hungry," Spike said, crossing his arms.
"Spike has descended into a cave-mare," Twilight said. "It is what it is."
Smolder turned her head to Twilight and glanced in the direction of Spike. "Yeah, but come on. We have stuff to do. There isn't any food here. Can't you just tell him that?"
Spike came running, then and there. "Okay, I'm coming. Jeez. Allow me to be hungry, guys. Allow me to show that I'm hungry and stuff, with my words."
"Yes," Twilight said, smiling and departing in the opposite direction. "We're going now."
They were in an empty area, with a lone road, and then the air seemed to explode, go boom, and pieces of dirt, gunk, goo, and rubbish, and bark flew. They gathered, shards of stuff, enveloped in light, and the air pulsed. The moon appeared above them, the little group, even though it was broad daylight. They were on their guard, and Twilight immediately jumped to the front of the group, so as to offer protection from whatever this was. Be it some new villain perhaps? Well, perhaps. Before them, a house was being built out of the surrounding nature, and bits of landscape that actually contained trees. Trees fell down, across the ground, and splintered, splattering forth, dividing into pieces, the pieces gathering, and making a house. It was a... somewhat grey, dull, and rather, shall we say, unassuming sight. But the contents of the book should never be judged by its cover, dear reader, as we all know.
"Um," Smolder said. "What's this?" She literally didn't know how to react, so she just stood there, not doing anything.
"I don't know," Twilight said, turning to see if everyone was okay. "But it seems dangerous. We should all be a little careful, I feel."
"Careful?" Rumble said. "That is my middle name, actually, if you didn't know that." He treaded past Twilight. "I'm going to carefully see what's going on." He chuckled. "Come on, you guys."
"It could be dangerous," Twilight shrieked, catching up to him.
"It's just a house," he said. She jumped in front of him, preventing his advance.
"It's just a house? I'm not so sure," she said.
"Just let me go," he said, trying to get around her, but she followed and placed herself between him and the house.
Then, she glanced toward the sky. "Can you see that?"
His eyes turned skyward, and so did the rest. What they saw was strange, very much so, very, very, very strange, actually. The moon grew becoming so big that it took up an unusual amount of the sky. It was humungous, stupendous, and gigantic, awesomely so, and extremely much, exquisitely beautiful, but scary to the utmost degree of horror, because the moon was not acting as moons should, and it was clear to them all. The moon was shining, crisp and blue. Very, unusually blue, the moon appeared to them, which seemed strange to them, and they all were unsure of what to think and what to do. The moon was very strange. It was a strange moon. It was a blue moon, strangely. These things, these ideas, and ongoing events, happened for reasons that if these ponies and dragons knew them, they never would have done what they do next.
"Let's explore," Rumble said.
Twilight burst out, "Let us do no such thing."
"I agree with him," Smolder said. "This seems like exploring-time to me."
"But it's insane. It's dangerous. I mean- I mean, just look at it," Twilight said, swiping her hoof in the direction of the house, and the sky. "And the sky," Twilight said, adding the more conspicuous part of the scene into the equation, but the two of them, Smolder and Rumble, had already made up their minds.
"No, I want to know what's going on," Smolder said.
"You're crazy," Twilight said.
"I'm hungry," Spike said.
Smolder flew above Twilight and landed behind her. She came after Smolder. "I'll come with you, if- if I must. But still, I really think you shouldn't be doing this."
Rather than responding, Smolder just opened the door and walked in.
"Don't do it!" Twilight said, not really making any effort to stop her all the same.
"What do we do now?" Spike said, walking up to her side from behind.
"I don't know," she said, speaking slowly, and with a lot of doubt.
Rumble ran in the door. Twilight tried to catch him in her purple aura, of magic, but he escaped. Spike then sprung toward the door. "I guess we have to follow."
"We're really going to enter the house?" she said.
Spike went inside. Twilight gasped, and then sighed.
It really was something that these ponies and dragons, on second thought, should have reconsidered.
An echo went through the foyer. It was a rumbling, mumbling sound that sounded, vaguely, as if it was coming from a person, or perhaps a musical instrument of some kind, a trombone.
"What's that?" Twilight said, and her voice sounded faint inside the big empty space of the building.
A little further into the foyer was the entrance to a wide big space, a room, with bookshelf upon bookshelf upon bookshelf, full of books. Twilight walked further inside. She could not see Spike or anyone else inside this darkness.
She wondered where he could be.
Spike saw a desk, and a hooded figure sat behind the desk. Spike went to the desk. He could not see or find any of his friends, but he figured that this person might be able to help him. "Hello," he said. "I'm Spike."
"I'm a ghost," the figure said. It lifted up its arm, and the fabric fell back. There was a black hoof beneath it, faintly grey, and covered in liver spots. "This old already?"
"Okaaay," Spike said, feeling really anxious all a sudden. "Can you help?"
The hoof reached back and pulled the hood further down its head, making an effort to hide it even more. "You would not want to see me, I am certain."
Spike was about to go the other direction, and escape from this situation, redirecting his attention elsewhere, but each direction seemed to be shrinking, and the place did not look the same by the time that he had turned around. The bookshelves formed a barrier around him, barring his escape. They had certainly not done that before.
"Not so fast, Spike," the elder said. "You have only just arrived, and if my knowledge of your world is true, then it is considered, by some, decent and honest to at least say hello, and upon having done so, accept the hospitality of the person that invited you into their home." The pony had a faint voice, which was weak, and low, and vaguely feminine, but Spike could not be certain. He did not think this was an old pony's voice. It was more like a child's voice, very faint, and high.
"Why?" Spike said, then facing the pony again. "Who are you?"
"Let's play a game," the elder said, rather than answering his question.
"Let's not. Who are you?"
"Let's play a game," the pony said, again.
Twilight's voice entered the room, but it was distorted. "Let us do no such thing."
"Your friends are not all that playful, are they?" the elder said.
"You should let me out of here," Spike said. "It's not nice to trap ponies or anyone inside a house and not let them leave, you know."
"In five days' time you will have changed your mind," the elder said. "I promise you this."
"I'm not staying here for five days." He yelled out, "What's your problem exactly?"
The elder froze up, and then, whose body was faintly grey with a black cloak, dispersed into pieces, which ascended into the ceiling and disappeared.
Twilight was still in the foyer, hesitating. The pieces gathered, and formed a pony which shone like moonlight. Twilight heard this magic whir and tripped, trying to turn the other way too fast, and then, when she had caught her balance, she felt dizzy, and was unsure as to whether she was merely imagining this, or that it was real?
"I was unsure as to who would find the other first," the elder said, its light resolving into a rainbow that shone across its body, and then, fading, fading, fading, disappeared, gone.
"I don't have time for this," Twilight said, grabbing the figure with her magic and making it come toward her. The elder made no effort to resist, who now hovered in front of Twilight. "Where are my friends, and why do you have to be evil? We could be friends. Let's become friends, and reform, and have a good ending to this, so I can keep doing what I was doing and, ugh. Forget it."
"I am not necessarily opposed to the idea," the elder said, as Twilight put this figure down. The figure drew its hoof across its hood, almost instinctually, as if to be sure that it was still there. "We can be friends, good Twilight, and so can the friends of a friend, all yours, be mine too."
"What is it you want?" Twilight said, trying to know this person's motivation for villainy.
The elder in a quick and violent maneuver grabbed its hood and pulled at it so that it wrapped around its head. "The reason?"
"Why are you hiding under there?" Twilight said, pointing at the hood. "Again, let us just resolve this like adults."
"I am not long for this world, and there truly is no time," the elder said. "Regrettably."
"Why not?" Twilight said, feeling impatient and a little worried.
"In many days... in many ways... I don't exist, really," the elder said, tentatively.
"Speak in a way that is understandable," Twilight said. "I'm listening."
"I am a fragment of the present, always going away, and coming back again, in different forms," the elder said, "and I never exist long enough to truly be free, so that I can be me, and not some shadow of a distant present, never ever taking shape into something else, that is more than imaginary."
"Let my friends go," Twilight said.
The elder's head faced into the ground, and the figure hummed, figuring whether this was the right course of action. "No."
Its colors dispersed, and the pony vanished. Twilight swiped at it with her hoof, but it was gone.
"Ouuuh." Its pieces gathered, materializing in front of Smolder and Rumble, who had both found one another. They were in between two bookshelves, out of the thousands that stretched into the distance. It looked like an optical illusion. All the bookshelves looked exactly the same, were full of books, and seemed to go on forever into the distance, each next to the former, reaching toward the horizon, a never-ending corridor of books.
"Okay, seriously, what is this place?" Smolder said. The fact that the building was way bigger on the inside, this very fact, had gotten to her a bit. It was a fact. "This is impossible," she said, noting it.
"You cannot hear me?" the elder said.
They both turned around. "What is that?" Rumble said, his pitch rising for each syllable that he uttered, and he grabbed Smolder, then letting go, grinning. "Anyway."
"You have never seen a ghost before? Well, then, I can understand that I must seem frightening to you." The elder's colors faded again, and in front of them stood a hooded pony, an aged figure.
Smolder walked up and grabbed the hood, pulling at it. The elder flicked out a hoof that made her hand bounce back. "Do not, please."
"Where did you come from?" she said.
The elder stood back a bit, aback. "I am... exploring."
"Exploring what?"
"Life," the elder said. "I am not used to seeing this much life around my bleak solitude, which I am used to."
"Do you happen to know the way out?" she said. "Just wondering."
"You would better not leave," the elder said, walking around them, and standing behind them. "The spirit that created this place would not understand."
"Understand," Rumble said, just repeating the word. "This is way too weird." He didn't turn to see the elder.
"I do," the elder said, "but the spirit that created this place has passed on. You cannot leave."
"What do you mean we cannot leave?" Smolder said, turning, again walking up, and grabbing the hood. This time, the elder was not as fast to flick her hand away. "You cannot tell me what to do."
"No," the elder said, its colors again dispersing, and again, history repeats itself.
It was gone.
Twilight found herself outside the house. "What's going on?"
Upon her recollection, she had just blinked, and in the very next moment, she was outside. She saw herself. She was turned the other way. "I mean- I mean, just look at it, and the sky." Twilight swiped her hoof. Who did? Both did. Twilight felt her hoof fly into the air, as she saw distant, past Twilight do the same.
"What is happening?" Twilight said, raising her voice, and all the others turned around.
Twilight of the past got bleak, and she backed away, in fear. "Oh, no. It's me. Can you all see that?"
"I'm just as confused as you are!" Twilight of the present said. "What is happening here?"
The air pulsed. Both of them said the same thing at once. "What is happening?" It felt involuntary, the second time they did it.
They had said, "What is happening here?" Then they said, "What is happening?" They both said it at the same time. No, they are saying it at the same time. Wait, it seemed, to both of them, that they had said it at the same time. Twilight started floating. Both Twilights floated. They pushed against each other, uncomfortably, and then, they landed on the ground. They were tangled up, and both took care to make sure that the other one didn't trip as they both caught their bearings.
They were outside the house. Twilight said, "I mean- I mean, just look at it, and the sky." They both looked at one another, wondering who said it, but then, they noticed a third Twilight, standing in front of Rumble, outside the building.
"Don't do it," both the Twilights said. They paused, wondering what had just happened.
The third switched her attention, and saw the two. "Oh, no. I think something's seriously wrong," she said to the rest of the group, the third did.
"Why are you pretending to be Twilight?" Spike said, feeling indignant.
"No, you don't understand," the two Twilights said.
"Go away," Spike said, running toward them.
"Eep," they said.
The third Twilight followed Spike and said to the other two, "Who are you? You two?"
"Who are we?" the two said.
Then, the house was gone. They could see it no longer. "Who?" Spike said.
"Who is who?" the elder said, its shards building, making a pony. "No one is who no one is."
The three Twilights blinked, and each found her way back into the house, standing next to the other. They all saw what had happened, and now, they were considering it, thinking about what it could mean. "Whatever that creature was," one Twilight said. "It's not a good guy. This person is up to no good, for sure."
"What creature?" the other two said, in perfect rhythm with one another.
It occurred to the first Twilight that she was the only one that had met with the elder, and so, she had to choose her words carefully, so as to not confuse the other two. "It's the one that did this all. I don't know who it is, but I met that person inside the house, and I entered the house, and then, when I was on the outside, I found you two there. It was as if I had travelled back in time."
"This is a bit much," one of the other two said, feeling really, really uneasy, and shaky. "I don't want this to get any worse. What am I supposed to do?"
"Keep a cool head," the first Twilight said.
"That's easy for you to say," the other two said. "You know more about what's going on than we do."
The first Twilight felt terror slowly reaching into her body, as she realized what was going on, and starting to process it. "This is not good."
"No, it is not," the other two said, emphatically, again, in perfect synchronicity.
Spike was still lonely, inside the little space with the bookshelves, where he had been trapped. "What to do? What to do?"
The shelves then finally moved to the sides, allowing him to walk out. He did, fast, before they pushed together again, preventing any passage, or advance for that matter. He walked into a purple hoof, which made him fall over, and he was happy that he had found Twilight. Then, the hoof disappeared for half a second, came back, disappeared, came back, and vanished. He frowned, not knowing what was going on, or what to think of it. He stood up.
Twilight came walking from behind him, and he looked. The bookshelves united, making it impossible for her to come forward. "What?" He took a step forward, and then hesitated, and decided to go the other way instead. He was met with a purple hoof which pushed him to the ground.
"I'm sorry," Twilight said. "I'm preventing your advance. I don't know why, nor do I care, but I am, and I'm sorry about it." She melted, turning into purple mud that bubbled down into the floor, making a black hole that Spike then looked through.
"You're sorry, but you don't care?" he said, recalling the gibberish. "Where is the real Twi?"
He was starting to feel claustrophobic, and kind of shaky, and lonely, and he wondered whether there would ever be a way out.
The first page is blank, but it need not be anything other than that. The first page is just what they do before I come into the picture, a new fixture in their lives, one that shall remain there forever, I fear. I need friends, and I need good things too. I am too weary, and all too much tired, of life, and giving, without receiving anything in return, and these ponies will give me, as I have given, and I will take what's theirs, and that is my fate, I have decided.
Two: Because Two Are More Than Enough
"Let me out of here," Spike said. "This is ridiculous." He touched a bookshelf. A book flew out of it and landed in his face. "Stop, please. Just stop it already."
The book opened. Across it was the word please written over and over again, on both the pages that he could see, which were open to him. "Please, please, please," a voice said, but it wasn't his, sadly for him.
Spike rushed through the bookshelf-corridor, and the shelves rearranged, moving, changing the path, and now, there were several openings, and tunnels going left and right across the area. Many openings revealed themselves to him, and he did not know which one to take. Of course, he felt uneasy. You already knew that.
He chose a path, but with a lot of doubt, and walked between two shelves into another discombobulating corridor of books. He kept walking, and payed little mind to his surroundings, which he thought were unimportant, especially as it compared to the mission of finding his way out of there. Somehow, it also felt like he was not making much progress, at all. He kept coming forward, but everything looked the same, and everything felt the same, and he had never been through anything this strange in his entire life.
Soon, he stopped and started looking at the area around him. He hadn't before. Then, he took a few steps forward. The area was different now. He took another step forward, while staring at the shelf beside him. Somehow, his body was slipping backward, or the shelves around him slipped forward, because he was sort of moving back, or the shelves forward, in sync with his movements. This was troubling, and sad for him to see. It made him hesitate about what he was going to do next.
It's safe to say at least, he thought, that this is no normal library. Something was and is seriously wrong with this place. That much should be obvious to anyone that would enter. It is not a nice place, thought he, with all the seriousness that he could muster in his body, and he decided that it was time to take things up a notch now. He grabbed a book out of the bookshelf and breathed a tiny flame onto it. Then, he watched it catch fire. He put it back, hoping that this would provide an escape path, or alert the ghosts that lived here of his unwillingness to stay. This could not be allowed to go on, surely.
The fire, rather than dying down, spread across the bookshelf, and a lot of black fumes came into the room now. Spike is immune to this sort of thing, but he realized, to his horror, that his friends are not, and he hoped they would be okay, before all this was over, and they had gotten out. He hoped the fire or the fumes would not get to them before they could leave. He wanted them all to get out of there safely, and with their health intact.
"Hellooo," he said, right into the room, into the ceiling, into the fire, into anywhere, hoping that anyone could hear him.
No one responded. Not quite so capricious were Spike and his circumstance.
He heard dripping, and whirring, like leaves were spinning, like the whirring of the wind, and the sound of air, the dripping of a cloud, nature, around him. "One might wonder why you do not read the books, rather than burning them down, Spike. After all." Spike faced the other way as quickly as he could, and saw the cloaked pony, old and withered. "They hold all the knowledge of the world. You are not a scholar, I see. Why, that is really sad, I decree."
"I will do whatever you ask. Just let me go." He was surprised at the sound of his own voice. He sounded really tired. Then, he remembered that he hadn't eaten in a while. He had been getting so worked up that he had totally forgotten. How long had he been here, again? Too long, in all actuality.
"Whatever I ask?" the elder said, with its meek, dainty voice. "Really?"
"Yes!"
The elder grabbed its hood and adjusted it, then said, "That is something I have never heard a person say before, though admittedly, I have not lived long, and I have not heard ponies, nor dragons for that matter, say many things."
Spike remained quiet, and he put his claw against the bookshelf that was burning. Smoke gathered around the both of them, and a big piece of the shelf shattered and fell down on him. He dug himself out of the rubble, wiping his arms of splinters, and debris. Then, he remained standing, looking at the elder, who was equally silent.
Something happened. Spike could not tell what. The elder turned to dust, and the dust soared across the floor, toward him. He ran the other way. Whatever this was, he wanted no part in it. The air seemed to vibrate around him. Well, because of the fire of course, he thought. Duh, obvious. That was obvious. Then, he saw lines going across the air, blue lines, that moved up and down, vibrating. This seemed more and more to him like something that wasn't fire, and if not, then what was it? Something happened. It felt as if something was tugging at the back of his mind. He could not tell what, and something... something... something. He felt kind of bleak and empty now, like an empty book. He had no thoughts, not really, and focusing started to become difficult.
"Stop," was the only word he could come up with.
It stopped, the air cleared, and the fire remained, burning, sparks flying, and it got worse and worse, more fiery, and growing, smoke gathering, building, by the second. Spike was surrounded by an inferno. It had spread to the surrounding bookshelves, he now noticed. He tried pushing through one, but he couldn't, and then, rubble from the shelf fell on him. He was trapped. He coughed now, a little. Even he had trouble breathing in this environment. Books came out of the shelves, burning books, and pages scattered, burning. It was becoming too much.
The fire spread to the floor, which burned too, and everything burned. "I shouldn't have done it."
The fire cleared, and now, cinders, smoking cinders, lay around him in every direction that his eyes caught sight of. In each corner, there was burning, smoking thrash, from the shelves, that had gathered around him, but the fire stopped, nevertheless.
Pieces of pages gathered, small black blotches of ash running off them, and they formed into a big book that plopped down in front of him. On it were written the words, The Way Out by Aspen Crown. He noted the cover. Aspen Crown? He was about to open it, but then thought better of it. He looked at the book. What was this? Maybe, he thought, I should take a tiny peak. He put his claw under the frame, and flicked it, opening the book, and there were things written in the book, as you would expect.
"Getting out will not be easy. You will need a few things, least this. As you read this, you will need this. Take a friend that you bring out, and leave the rest behind." He was willing to do anything, sure enough, but not that. He would never leave anyone behind, he was decided. He had decided. He was sure. No, he would bring all his friends, and- and, but if he took one of them with him, he could go out and ask for help. He could go to someone, like Princess Celestia, and make her come to the rescue. That would be good, wouldn't it? It would. It would. Yes, he thought about it, but he also needed to talk this out with the others to make sure they were on the... same page.
The smoke had cleared. Well, at least the fire had, but he could still see smoke in front of him. Why? The answer would come to him, in the most inopportune, and unpleasant, of ways.
Okay, so this is all far from over, as you can tell, reader. Far, far, far from over, it actually is.
Twilight is Twilight. We know this. We like her for it. We don't know her for being someone that she's not, and if we did, then that would be bad, very much bad, because that would mean that Twilight is not Twilight. She's someone else. Who is she? Someone that is not Twilight, at the very least, the leastest. Twilight, if she was not Twilight, would be something else, and something that we do not know. We think we know Twilight, but maybe, we know someone who is not Twilight, and Twilight is really only pretending to be Twilight, and the person that we know is someone else. Oh no. Oh, that is not good. That doesn't feel good, and it cannot be true. Twilight would never lie. She would never be someone other than what we know her to be. No, she really is the one and only true Twilight, but we shall see if she can take the pressure.
Many characters do what they do for reasons that are unique to them, and they are who they are. Do we respect them for it? Is that an invalid question? Let's see. Twilight entered the library.
"What is this place?" The giant empty space made her feel small, like an ant, and smaller than that, like a speck, and the dust dwindled around her, of the room, reflected by the sunlight that came in from somewhere far above her, in the ceiling.
Twilight entered, again. This was a different Twilight. She knew that she was not alone. She was with the other Twilight. She felt calm, and like she could relax, knowing that at the very least, she had an ally beside her, this other Twilight, herself. Motes hovered down from the ceiling, and the place felt old, and Twilight could not quite see what made all the light, and the light came down in a long stream, emanating from a single point in the ceiling, somewhere, like a spotlight. It was unsettling. Was it really sunlight?
Twilight entered, a third time, but this was a third Twilight, not the first, and not the second. She felt the wind, and the cold, of the dark, of the library. The place was big, but it also was empty, save for the bookshelves that stretched into the distance. "Do we just walk out there?"
"Yes, we need to find our friends," another Twilight said. "Where could they be?"
"I have a hard time thinking," yet another Twilight said. "What to do? What to do?"
It had only just begun too.
Smolder felt a little lonely, even though she was with Rumble. There was a lonely something, sensation, in her body, a vague sense of worry, and also, the sense you get when you know that you're not quite in full control of the situation, even though you don't want to admit it to yourself. "Where do we go?"
The bookshelves trembled and moved, shaking. They changed order and direction, and now, rather than forming a long tunnel, they formed a variety of branching paths, as with Spike. "What do we do?" Rumble said. He scowled, suddenly, and to his own surprise, he was confused at what he had just said. "Wait. Did I just say that? It didn't even feel like I was the one that said it, but I heard my own voice say it. Am I crazy?"
"Yes," Smolder said.
"What do we do?"
"I don't know," Smolder said, feeling frustrated.
Rumble stood fixed, not moving. "Did I just say that?"
Smolder groaned. "Yes!" She grabbed him and pulled him further into the tunnel of bookshelves.
"Where are we going?" he said.
She stopped, and let go of him. "I don't... know?"
"Neither do I!"
The two of them did not get what was happening, but... they would. Let's just say that.
"I'm happy that you're here, Spike," the elder said.
He flinched, and took a book, hurling it in the direction of the voice. The book flew, and hovered, and stopped, and Spike was confused. The book came back toward him. He ducked. It flew away from him. He looked at it. The book spun in the air. It was black around him. He blinked. It was grey again, and full of bookshelves, that were drab, and dark.
"At least, you will understand, as no one ever has," the elder said.
Rather than using violence, Spike now methodically faced the voice, keeping his bearings, and paying attention to what was happening around him. Spike was about to say something, but then hesitated.
"You said you would be willing to do anything."
Of course, but did he really mean it? He was just saying things out of desperation, at that point, nothing more. There probably were plenty of things he weren't willing to do to get out of here. He wouldn't sacrifice his friends.
"But you could save one of them," the elder said.
Had this creature just read his thoughts, or what?
"Just think about it. Then, you could go out, and get help, couldn't you? I will be here. I cannot move. Why, I'm sure there must be creatures out there more ancient and powerful than me, don't you agree? Get one of them."
Why does this person, she? Why does this guy, want... me to leave? Didn't the guy... want me to stay? His thoughts were getting blurry, and unclear, he felt.
"Choose one."
No, he did not want to. He leaned against a shelf.
"Spike, I don't believe it. You are only hesitating, nothing more. You are not committed to resist the urge to accept this tiny little condition, which should be of help to you. You know what is best for you, without any doubt, not me, and you will understand and know that doing this is the best decision, or not. What say you, Spike?"
This person is just trying to manipulate me. I don't take any of this seriously.
"You're not really... listening in that case," the elder said.
Spike looked around. It was quiet.
What did the creature mean?
The three Twilights were doing their best to keep calm and trudge on through all this madness, which they felt they didn't really cause, and weren't really responsible for.
"Twilight..."
Twilight stopped in her tracks, and the other two did the same, the other two Twilights. "Who said that?"
"Not me."
"No. No. It wasn't me."
Hoarsely, "Twiliiight..." the sound, fading off.
The three Twilights looked around them, trying to find where the voice came from.
"Twilight."
The three could hear it, right into their ears, but they could not see it. Now, it sounded like the person making the noise was right next to them, but they couldn't see the person.
The many colorful colors of light, across the rainbow, found their home, discovered their birth inside that room in that moment, and came together, not apart, gathering. The bookshelves changed character, and became less grey and drab, and got more sharp, and looked more real, and the books looked more real, realer, different, not grey, drab, and repetitive, but unique. The place was starting to resemble a normal library now.
"Hey!"
It was Smolder. She ran up to Twilights, the three of them. "I can explain," one of them said.
"Explain what?"
Twilight looked around. The other two were gone. "Gone?"
"Whatever," Smolder said. "I don't get why we didn't just fly up over the bookshelves, rather than walking through the darkness, do you?"
"What d..." Twilight did find this odd. "Where's Spike?"
Spike saw Twilight from across the room. He had flown up, looking for her. He did have his wings after all, dear reader, if you think he might not have had them. "Hello."
"What happened?" Twilight said. "What? I've never... I... never mind."
"Never mind what?" Spike said.
"I'm just happy to see you is all," Twilight said. "Now, let's get out of here, before we get crazy or something from this weird place. This place really... I don't know."
"What's the matter, Twi?" Spike said. "You feeling okay?"
"No," Twilight said. "That's the trouble. I feel like someone is messing with my head."
"What are you talking about?" Spike said. "Let's get out of here."
"Oh, you found the way out?"
Spike paused. "No."
Twilight... thought she saw something, but that couldn't be right. "Spike... okay."
"What, Twi?"
Twilight took to the air, and flew higher and higher, and then, she saw more bookshelves in the ceiling, colorful bookshelves made of yellow wood. They were pretty, but she didn't feel inclined to look at the scenery. The ceiling bent around her, and then, shot out, bookshelves almost hitting her, and she had to duck to the side, and then again, and then again, and everything was spinning. She looked for the floor, and then landed. She was in a place that looked identical to where Spike and Smolder had been, but they were gone now. She cast her eyes against the ceiling. No bookshelves could be seen. All she saw was all she had ever seen, which was the beam of light coming down.
Now, she was sure that something was not right, and she was determined, rather than flagging, to figure out what.
That was a close one.
"Twilight."
Twilight twisted her mouth together, awry. She shot a beam up into the ceiling, determined to end this once and for all. The ceiling collapsed down, and she held up the pieces with her magic aura, and light came into the room, which gave her a sliver of hope. The light blinded her, and got stronger and stronger, and when she opened her eyes, she was at the entrance of the library.
"Who called my name?"
It formed into a pony. The hooded pony came toward her. "This is a library. Maybe you want to try reading a book."
"No, maybe you want to try getting away from me, before something really bad happens to you, buddy," she said, charging up her horn.
"You are turning your anger at the wrong person, Twilight," the elder said. "I am only the custodian here, nothing more."
Twilight didn't wait. She shot the beam at the ghost, and its mantle flapped in the piercing force produced by her magic spell, going backward, and making the creature slide back over the floor, but its feet were planted, and it didn't fall. "Reveal yourself."
"No. No." The elder crossed its hooves, both front-hooves, in front of the beam, making it separate in two directions, one going to the left, and the other going to the right, around the creature. "Why, Twilight? Why?"
"I expect some answers." Twilight was out of patience, which she had not much of to begin with.
"Answers?" The elders coat was now covered in holes, and tears, and the cloak looked old and withered. "Answeeers."
"Yes."
The elder moaned. "Oh-nooo."
"Yes," Twilight said, again.
The elder's pieces split, and disappeared into the ceiling, again.
"What in the world is this even, ghosts?" she said, as the creature vanished.
Twilight had not made a dent in the elder, because she could not. She had only hurt its clothing, because clothing is real, and the elder is not. Twilight would find that out on the spot, because she would see and learn, and observe. A lot would she be, discern, and earn. She would learn, and earn what she learned, and if not, she would not, but let's see what she's got.
Twilight frustratedly took a book out of a shelf. It read, To Know Who's on Your Side by Leafy Grey. She had never heard of this author before. "Before these pages leave your eyes, and you look elsewhere, for answers that will never come, heed my advice. One or two of your friends might be imposters." She put the book back. She was not playing this game. Then, she remembered those first words. "For answers that will never come?" She picked out the book again, feeling even more frustrated. "The only thing, and please do not forget, is to see the eyes, without regret." She tried to go on reading. This was a book after all, but the rest of the book, to her relief, was empty.
Now, it was time to find her friends.
She did not know, though, what was in store for her.
Twilight stepped through the tunnels of her mind.
Reality spun before her.
It crystallized.
Before her stood Rumble, Spike, and Smolder.
"Guys," she said.
"Twilight," Spike said.
"That's me," she said. He hugged her. "Yes, Spike. Yes." She patted him, but she was distracted by what she had read in the book. Could it be true? How? She tried to look at his eyes. He looked to the others. There seemed to be nothing wrong with his eyes. "Oh no." She had doubted her own Spike, who had been with her since he was a baby. How could she do that?
Rumble came forward next. Twilight smiled and gave him a tiny nod. Then, when she looked to Smolder, she came walking forward. "Hey," she said. "I'm happy to see you."
"Yes," Twilight said. She grabbed Smolder's head in magic and lifted it to eye-level. "Hello."
"What are you d–"
Twilight saw a ghost, or what felt like it. Smolder's teeth grew long and sharp, and then, she vanished into thin air. "What was that?"
Spike backed away. "Oh, what? She was a monster? How? Then where is the real Smolder?"
"That's..." Twilight said. "Actually really concerning."
"Tell me about it," Rumble said. He pushed against Twilight. "I'm not going anywhere." He kept against Twilight's leg.
"Right. Good," she said.
"What do we do now?" Spike said.
"Can I see your eyes?" Twilight said. "Just let me, so I can be sure you're not also a monster."
"But Twilight. It's me. Don't you trust me?" he said, aghast and afraid. "Twilight." He looked at her, with a bit of anger. "I'm just going to go. I'm not sure if you're the real Twilight."
"Don't be such a drama queen," Twilight said. "Get over here." She grabbed him in her magic. "Would I be able to do this if I were not the real Twilight?"
"Let me go!" He spouted fire out his mouth.
"Okay..." Twilight let him go, surprised at his reaction. "Look. All we need to do is make eye-contact. That's it."
Spike looked straight into her eyes. "Is that what you want?" Then, he turned around and walked away.
Twilight frowned. Then, she glared. "Would the real Spike really act that way?"
"How can you possibly now?" Rumble said.
"Let me see your eyes now," she said.
"Twilight," he said, staring in disbelief. "This is scaring me."
"All I want to do is look into your eyes," she said, quickly. She didn't want to lose the ball, and forget what had happened only a few moments ago, with Smolder.
"I think you should apologize to Spike," he said.
"Yeah," she said. It was all black, and dark, around her. This place was... she was still in the library? "What is this place?"
"It's... I don't know, now that you mention it," Rumble said. "I really don't know."
Spike was walking away. "She thought I was a monster? Really? How could she?"
The elder reappeared. "Are you really all that surprised? Look at yourself." The elder held up a mirror in its hooves, which seemed to materialize out of thin air.
Spike looked in the mirror. He saw a scary monster with sharp teeth. "Oh, no. Twilight is going to think I'm a monster."
"Too bad. Too bad," the elder said, from behind the mirror. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." Spike threw his arms up in the air, yelling, "I don't knooow!" He shook his head. "She's going to hurt me if she sees me. If she sees me..."
"But maybe," the elder said, "she doesn't have to see you."
Spike blinked. The elder was gone. "But maybe she doesn't have to see you," he heard his own voice say, echoing back to him from the wide, empty halls of the delirium that he was in. "That... was... me?"
That cannot be, he thought.
Can it not?
"Spike," Twilight said, walking through the empty darkness, and she saw colors in the distance. Bookshelves appeared in front of her, of many colors, green, purple, and grey, and orange, all multicolored. They were really quite hard to look at, because there were so many different colors, and they began blending together in front of her eyes, creating an illusion that made it hard for her to see where she was looking, and remember where she had been. The shelves overpowered her senses, with the sharp coloration, and she could not remember if a green shelf was one she had seen before, or if it was a different one, as she passed it by, through the tunnels, of the bookshelves, in the maze, of the bookshelves, in this lonely library, which had only a few inhabitants.
Spike heard Twilight. He thought about it, and then, he came out from behind a corner. "Twilight. I'm scared."
"Don't be," she said. "Don't be."
"I heard that monster, and then, it turned out that it was only me talking, and the monster, I mean, I said..." he slowed down, losing track of his thoughts. "Twilight, I saw myself in a mirror, and the monster, it showed me that I was a mosnter, but I'm not, and..." He was mortified that Twilight would not believe him, or not understand him, and that she would believe that he was a monster, but he knew he wasn't. He was Spike, the one and only.
Twilight stopped for a moment. "Spike?" she said.
Spike turned the other way and disappeared. Rumble ran after him. "Just come with me," he said. "Don't- stop doubting him. If it's him, then you will know that it's him. I know my brother from a mile away, and he's like your sibling, so stop being stupid." Was that really true? True enough, he was sort of like Twilight's sibling, but maybe there was a mind trick that made it seem as if Spike was really her Spike, and not some imposter monster.
She followed Rumble. "I will come." She had trouble thinking clearly, and the words came out wrong. "I'm coming after you, I mean."
When they had rounded the corner, shock struck both of them, Rumble and Twilight, for they saw Spike, and he was together with another mare. "Who are you?" the other Twilight said, with hostility, and animus.
"Didn't we meet before?" Twilight said.
"You are pretending to be Twilight," the other Twilight said.
"No, I'm not," Twilight said.
"Prove it."
Twilight shook her head, gasping. "How on earth am I going to prove that?"
"Look how scared he is. Did you really think he was a monster?" the other Twilight said.
"No!" Twilight said. "No, I didn't really think it. I didn't think it at all. What?"
Spike then glanced at Twilight, the one that was with Rumble. This Twilight, the one with Rumble, saw sharp teeth come out of Spike's mouth, long sharp teeth. She gasped.
"Oh, no!" Spike said, going closer to the other Twilight. "It's true."
"No, it's not necessarily true," Twilight said. "I think you might very well be the real Spike. I just... what's going on here even?"
Rumble nudged Twilight. "C'mon. It's obvious what you're supposed to do." He stepped back from her. "Unless you're a fake." Then he came back to her again. "Kidding. I know you're real, and you know it too."
Twilight shot an anti-magic spell at the other Twilight to make sure she wasn't a fake, and that Twilight evaporated. "Of course. We weren't time-travelling. It was all just a mind-trick," Twilight said, realizing the truth.
"What did you do to her?" Spike said.
"Okay, now, this is getting crazy," she said. "Spike. Just get over here."
"No!" He took out a book and threw it at her, and the book landed on Twilight's face, blinding her temporarily. She plucked the book off her face with her hoof, and now, he was gone. Spike was gone! He was gone. What had she done?
"Spike! I- I didn't mean it like that." This was quickly going from being slightly frustrating to being slightly horrifying. "Spiiike!"
"You blew it," Rumble said.
"I blew it," she said. "I- I feel really strange. Do you?"
"Yes," he said. "It must have something to do with all the mind tricks that are going on in this place, this scary house."
"That's true," Twilight said. "But there's- there's something else. I feel like I'm trailing off constantly."
Where had Spike disappeared to now?
Spike ran away, sobbing. "I just want to get out of here. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't. I..." He gasped for air, feeling anxiety grip his body. "I- I- I don't know what to do."
"How so?" he said.
Spike spun in circles, looking for the source of the voice, when he knew all too well that it had come from himself. "I need to- I need to find Twilight. I have to. We can fix this."
"Fix this?" he said. "You saw her. She was coming after you. She thought you were a monster. Did you see the look on her face? She's afraid of you. She'll never understand."
"Please. Don't do this," Spike said, holding his ears. "Don't do this. Not like this."
He removed his hands. "Do what? It's time to realize the truth, me. Twilight has abandoned you, and she doesn't think you're even really you, because you look like a monster, and maybe that's because you really are a monster. Think about it. You were allowed to leave the library along with one more person, if you brought that person with you, so what if that's what you did? What if you're not even really you? She might even be right."
"That's crazy," Spike said. "I know I'm me."
"How can one be sure?" he said.
"Oh, shut up," Spike said.
"No, think about it. You look like a monster. Twilight doesn't recognize you. You're not the hero of this story. You're a monster, and maybe you just think that you're you because the ghost in the library wants you to. That can be an illusion too. It probably is."
Spike fell together in a sobbing heap.
"Spike!" Twilight said.
Rumble didn't say anything. "If that had been my brother, then I would've given him a hug right away."
"Okay, okay," Twilight said, groaning. "I get it."
They rounded another corner, and Spike was just there, just sitting there, crying, with long sharp fangs coming out his mouth, and eyes that were now blood-red, and his features looked sharper, and the scales on his back had grown longer, and sharper. He was bigger. "Get away from me," he said.
Twilight's heart panged. "Spike. I'm sorry."
"No, please. I don't want to," he said, running away.
Twilight thought to catch him again in her magic, but then decided not to. "Please don't run. I'm sorry. I know it's you. How could it be anyone else? I recognize your voice, as I recognize your smile, and everything about you. I know how you sound, how you are, and I know that look on your face. I know it's you, and if it's not, then that means I've gone mad, and if I've gone mad, then it doesn't really matter what I say. Nothing matters, but you matter, Spike."
"Do you mean it?" he said.
"Yeah," she said.
He came forward and hugged her. "Twilight. I'm scared."
"Why?" she said. "What is there to be scared of when we have each other?"
"I don't know," he said. "I don't know."
Rumble frowned at something, and pushed past the two of them. "What's this?"
It was a mirror. Rumble looked into it. In front of it, Rumble grew into a terrible monster.
"Twilight," Spike said, pointing, and they both saw that Rumble had grown fangs, and was getting bigger, and hairier.
"It's the mirror," Rumble said. "Look. Do you see the mirror?"
They both looked at the mirror. Spike grew even more, and started growling. "Augh," he said.
Twilight looked at her own hooves, but they seemed normal, and her reflection in the mirror did not make her appear like a monster. She thought that the mirror must not be affecting her then. "Spike."
"Make it stop," Spike said, and he grew taller than the bookshelves, and taller than the library. His head shot up through the ceiling, and Twilight grabbed Rumble in her magic and flew away, avoiding debris. Rumble was considerably bigger now, and bulkier. His back was hunched, and he had a big lump on it, but she carried him diligently, and it was of little concern to her, his size and his appearance. She could easily carry him, and she knew this was not an actual monster, in any sense.
Pieces of wood fell down from the ceiling in all different directions, almost hitting Twilight. She dodged out the way of one, but they kept on coming, falling around her, and the house trembled, and she saw a piece come spinning in her direction. She pulled back, but it shot into her, and she fell to the ground, with Rumble at her side, and she rolled across the ground, not able to stop the momentum of the landing, barreling forth across the ground. She stood up, shaking her head. She was fine. She saw a wooden board stick right through her body. Okay, she was not fine. She pulled it out, and blood came out of her.
"Spike," she said, just worrying about Spike. "My- mind." She couldn't think. She couldn't focus. The colors of the shelves around her shifted again, becoming less flamboyant and less stark. Twilight faded. She focused her horn and did a healing spell on herself. "Good as new." She patted her body. "Spike!" She was... overloaded with worry, and fright. "Spike, please."
Spike roared above her. Rumble came running. Twilight wasn't prepared to see a giant hunchback beast come running toward her, so she shielded up, creating a purple shine around her body.
"What are you doing?" he said.
She removed the shield. "I'm sorry," she said.
"What's happened to you, Twilight?"
"Nothing! I- look up there." She pointed at the ceiling, with the giant Spike roaring.
Rumble ran past Twilight. "We need to get out of here."
She was about to come with him, but then, she stopped. "That's not true."
"What are you saying?" he said, stopping, and looking at her with his fangs sticking out his mouth. "What?" His eyes were shining red.
"We need to help him, of course. You know that, Rumble." She flew up toward Spike.
Bookshelves shot out of the ceiling. She flew back down again. Now, Spike was down there, his head sticking out the ceiling, which was beneath her, and above her was the ground. The library shifted. The ground was above her. She flew down toward the ceiling. The entire world around her seemed to spin, and now, the ceiling was above her again.
"This whole place is falling apart," Rumble said.
Twilight flew back down toward Rumble. "Rumble..."
"Yes! Twilight."
She stared into his eyes.
"What are you doing?" he said. "You think I'm a monster too, now? Is that it?"
"What's wrong?" she said.
"What do you mean?" he said.
"You're not looking at me."
Rumble looked like he was looking behind Twilight. "Yes, because the library is falling apart. Come n–"
Twilight froze him in place, and turned him, so she could get pure, real eye-contact with him. His body vibrated. Then, it imploded, and disappeared, turning into liquid. All the pieces, and everything around Twilight that had fallen apart froze in place, and then, reattached, and Spike shrank down toward the floor.
"Spike," Twilight said, flying toward him.
"Twi," he said, hugging her leg. "I'm so sorry."
"No," she said. "I'm sorry. Oh, Spike."
Really? She realized that? Oh!
The library glittered in all the colors of the rainbow, and then, it turned grey and drab again, like it had been before. The elder limped toward them. "How did you figure it out? I thought the library had you fooled."
"No," she said. "I was never fooled. It just seemed like it." She scoffed at the demon. "You don't know anything about true friendship."
"That's true," the elder said.
"Just get away from us," Spike said.
"Spike, you were allowed to leave the library, if you brought one person. Don't you remember?" the elder said. "You wanted to bring Twilight. You could've escaped together."
"Ehh, I don't think I believe you," Spike said, doubtfully. "Just stop harassing us, now."
"Harass?" the elder said. "Twilight. Is that a word he would use?"
"Please!" Twilight said, grinning.
"Eugh," the elder said. "What if none of you are real? What if you both two left the library together?"
"Shut up," Spike and Twilight said, at once.
The elder's colors dispersed! Again...
Smolder landed on her back. "What was that? That some kind of weird dream?"
Rumble fell through the air, the airy air, and landed on Smolder. "Ugh! Sorry."
Smolder shoved him off, and stood up. "It felt like... I felt like I was... becoming... a monster. Is that... it must've been some kind of dream."
"Yeah," Rumble said. "I know what you mean."
Twilight rounded the corner, and found the two of them. "Guys!"
"Guys?" Rumble said.
Smolder came up to her. "Twilight."
Spike came around the corner too. "Hey. Where have you been?"
"Having a dream?" Smolder said, still not quite able to piece together what had happened.
Two other Twilights came around the same corner. "Hello," one of them said.
"Hello?" They saw the other Twilight. "You?" Only one of them spoke.
"Hey!" the real Twilight said, looking into the eyes of the both of them.
They both looked away, one pawing the floor, and the other studying a bookcase.
"Anyway!" the real Twilight said, turning away from them, and rather than pressing the issue, they both vanished into nothingness.
Little squares, and dots, triangles and rectangles, rectangular squares, came flying down the ceiling, assembling. "You really care about each other so much that you weren't willing to leave two behind? I thought at least the dragons would. I have heard many mischievous, dastardly things about dragons. They live in constant conflict, and they would betray each other for a nickel," the elder said.
"Your information is clearly outdated, and a little racist," Smolder said, crossing her arms.
"What's a wascist?" the elder said, wheezing the words out.
"Whatever," Smolder said, dismissing the elder.
The elder grabbed its hood, just a quick grab, and then said, "Not that I am not happy, because I am. I am thrilled."
"I can't believe you were able to fool me," Twilight said, "with a copy of Rumble."
"I don't think it was a copy," Rumble said.
"I just split your minds a bit, making you think you were in several places at once," the elder said. "I thought for sure it would do the intended purpose."
"Why?" Twilight said.
"We all have that part of us that wants to leave the other behind. That's how I got here in the first place!" the elder said, becoming a shadow on the floor, which then faded, and vanished.
"It's true," Spike said. "I was honestly thinking about it. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, you guys."
"We are defined by what we do, not by what we think," Twilight said, without a moment's hesitation.
"But I really did want to leave you behind," Spike said. "A part of me did."
"And a part wanted to stay. That's the part that matters," Twilight said, kissing his forehead.
This gave the custodian of the library an idea.
That's the part that matters?
We'll get them, mistress.
"I don't care. I'm just a servant."
The colors spun around in front of the elder, growing ever older.
"Just tell me what to do. Give me a mind to do it."
The colors formed into words, great words, good words, inviting words, ones that told the elder what to do, and which gave the elder an identity, to cherish, and make due with.
"Is that it? That plan might work, Leafy Aspen."
The words said, "Make their better selves leave the library. If we can get, not two, but a fragment of their minds to stay behind, then that will be more than enough, librarian."
"Good idea, and morally laudable, since their better selves will deserve to leave, and the monsters within them deserve to stay. Truly wise."
The first page might be blank, but the second page is far from it. The second page, we learned, has a happy ending. The ponies, and dragons, really just found each other, strangely, in the end. That was unexpected. We wonder how they did that. What force, by what name, drew them together? Friendship? Friendship... is only a shadow. We will get them eventually... just you watch.
