She stared at her reflection and flexed the wing.
Same as always - cold, metallic, unfeeling.
Sighing, Twilight focused her gaze on her right wing.
The fake, artificial right wing.
She couldn’t help glaring at it. With a careless scowl, she turned in one motion to pull the fake wing off. With a furious scream and a flash of deep agony as the wires snapped one by one, she hurled it towards the far wall of her bedroom.
The wing smashed to pieces on impact.
None of this was fair! She'd been in countless battles before, so why had this been the last?!
Her brutal breaking point...
Celestiaʼs reign had a thousand years of peace, and yet Twilight could only have two?
She just couldn’t stand to look at herself anymore, with her horrible, scarred stump. She felt off. Disgusting. Incomplete. With every unbalanced step, she could feel the emptiness where her wing used to be. And that stupid prosthetic wasn’t even functional!
Seething, Twilight’s gaze fell again to her stump. Letting out another furious scream, she threw her hoof into the mirror’s mocking face.
It shattered on impact.
Breathing heavily, Twilight pulled her stinging hoof back.
It came out red.
With the gentle breeze under the shining sun, the day seemed perfect.
Twilight hated it.
Her walk through the sunlit fields of Ponyville carried a grim reminder - the limp that hadn’t yet healed. With every staggered step, her gaze remained firmly focused on the grass.
Donʼt look up. Do not look up.
But try as she might, Twilight eventually looked up.
Tears filled her eyes as she took in the clouds blowing across the sky. Clouds she should be standing on. Winds that should’ve been carrying her.
Deep Pegasus instincts welled up inside her, telling her she belonged up there. The tips of her feathered wing flared unconsciously, begging to be opened and soaring.
Twilight Sparkle would never fly again.
She allowed the tears to fall freely. Her knees buckled; she fell to the ground face first, burying her cries into the soft grass.
Twilight thought she had known loss before, after what happened to Golden Oaks and the Tree of Harmony... but now? After losing her wing?
This was different.
A piece of her soul was gone. Part of her ceased to be. She was forever grounded.
Forever incomplete.
Forever weak.
Twilight wondered if she would ever heal.
Twilight used to love her basement laboratory. Once, it had brought her as much comfort and joy as the library.
Not anymore.
Now, the lab’s sole purpose was to help her heal. If the professionals couldn’t make a functional prosthetic, then she would do it herself.
She was Twilight Sparkle. She couldn’t just give up. Not yet.
She slipped on her goggles and laid down her materials. Carbon fiber, silicon, aluminum. Screws, bolts, wires. Measuring tape, notepad, quill. After organizing her materials, she began by measuring her remaining wing.
Making a more appropriate prosthetic would fix two problems - her walking imbalance and her ability to fly.
It was also a welcome distraction.
Hours passed. It was slow going with her bandaged, still aching hoof, not to mention her lowered magical reserves...
Losing her wing had affected more than her flight ability. Ever since the fight, she’d been weaker. She felt it in her core - her magical ability had decreased significantly. She couldn’t even perform levitation anymore!
It hurt.
But she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t. Not again.
This prosthetic was going to happen. If nothing else, she was going to fly again.
Leaning back, her work before her, Twilight nodded.
Alone in the throne room, Twilight waited.
Her friends had taken over for her during her convalescence, but she was better now. She’d called them and told them she was ready.
Six friends filed in, asking Twilight how she was doing. She gave the same response each time.
“I’m okay.”
Everything was okay, she kept telling herself. If she reapeated it enough, she’d start to believe it.
She should’ve known better than to lie to Applejack.
“Are you, sugarcube?”
Obviously, sheʼs ready. She’s spent way too long feeling sorry for herself. She was fine. Here, surrounded by her friends, everything was normal.
They kept pressing. Another question from Spike. Another deflection.
Something bordering on accusation from Dash. Twilight stumbled on her response.
They meant well.
But she was having trouble breathing.
“I said I’m fine!” she reared with a shout, her remaining wing reflexively unfurling.
A hoof brushed her shoulder. She whirled around, eyes locking with Fluttershyʼs.
“I know you want everything to go back to normal, Twilight.” She smiled. “We’re here for you. Tell us where it hurts.”
There was something about Fluttershy’s voice - it broke her. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop herself.
Twilight wept, warmly wrapped in her friends’ embrace.
Her bedroom was a mess.
Twilight could see that now.
She crept into the room, avoiding the glass shards with a broom held in wavering magic.
She’d been feeling better since her breakdown in front of her friends. She hadn’t returned to work, but she’d been more intent on recovering - physically and mentally.
The prosthetic was also taking longer than expected, but Twilight was patient.
She was still hurting. She probably would never stop hurting. But with time and care, the pain would become a normal, tolerable part of her.
Twilight glanced out the window took in the blue sky. There was a chance the prosthetic wouldn’t work in the end. There was a chance she’d never fly again.
But for the first time, she was okay with that.
She’d ordered a new mirror, and though it took more effort than it should’ve, she dragged it in from the hallway and out in front of her bed.
She stared at her reflection and flexed both wings.
On one side, lavender feathers fanned out. On the other, nothing.
Twilight smiled. A sad, but genuine, smile.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
But with time, she could learn to live with that.
