“Sir? We’ve been at the terminus for fifteen minutes now. You have to get off the train.”

Incited by a few nudges from the conductor, Gray Calx groggily awoke from his dreamless night, not without feeling a bit grouchy. He almost accidentally mumbled a “five more minutes, mom.”

When his conscious and self-awareness properly joined hooves, he realized that he had slumped against the window of his booth, cheek squeezed against the glass with a thin line of drool dribbling down to the sill. Almost on reflex, Calx wiped his mouth, a teensy bit embarrassed at having subconsciously slobbered in public.

One of the first things he noticed was how the outside had been recolored into the beautiful palette of dusk, amber and burnt orange giving the bordering forest a comfy and scenic appeal. Clock on the wall indicated five PM. How long had he even been asleep for? He tried to recall exactly when his brain called for a timeout. Maybe it happened a little bit after switching lines at the Las Pegasus station? Tough to say. It definitely was still daytime before he fell into a snooze. The combination of being caressed by the rocking of the rails, and being pacified by the lullaby of the low-pitched engine noise probably got the best of him.

“Ahem. Sir, if you please?”

Ah yes, him. The pushy conductor impatiently tapping a hoof on the floor right in front of our sluggish commuter. Really wanted him out of the passenger wagon already. Eh, fair enough.

Visually scouting the surrounding vacant benches, Gray Calx concluded that the three or four other tourists who traveled with him had already bailed, effectively leaving him as the last pony behind. Hence the conductor’s insistence.

Calx got up from his seat, readjusted his saddle bags, and nonetheless offered a polite nod to the conductor who simply grunted something unimportant in return. On the outside docking station, Calx stretched like a feline, appeasing a few kinks that had formed all over his body. He smacked his lips a couple of times and infused his lungs with a voluminous amount of Undiscovered West air.

Whoa. It’s true what they say about the countryside atmosphere. It truly feels fresher, he immediately observed.

The thick scent of petrichor and pines felt decently pleasant, especially to a stallion who was so used to the big city life. Canterlot and Manehattan weren’t bastions of pollution by any means, but there was a tangible difference in air quality.

Surely, a first good sign for Outer Grove, and what it had to offer.

“Hey. You, with the purple mane and the dimwitted look,” echoed a brash voice to his right. “You gonna stay there daydreaming all day instead of giving a hoof to a poor lady in distress?”

Calx had no reason to suspect he was the one being asked earnestly. He was only two steps into this new town; logic dictated that this was far too early for an impromptu interaction. But, part of him had to face the facts: He did have a purple mane, and, more to the point, he did have a dimwitted look. Yup, somebody was asking for his help alright.

He turned to look at the convoy of merchandise wagons linked behind the sole passenger compartment (i.e., the one he just exited). Indeed, mixing travellers with merchandise was the best way to streamline transport to this remote town – or so the info brochure at the Las Pegasus station claimed.

Crates had been pulled out of the cargo doors and stood idly in the drop off zone at the end section of the platform. Seems like Calx’s prolonged nap had left plenty of time for everypony else to have claimed what they had to claim. Either that, or their stuff had been left there to be hauled on a subsequent day (it WAS getting pretty late).

However, one resilient contrarian, just like Gray Calx, was still present next to the train. A small earth pony, pink all over, her white braided mane bundled in messy locks, with sweat distinctly leaking down her face even from this distance. Her head was a bit redder than the rest of her natural coloration. Whether it was due to the physical effort of failing to pull a large wooden crate by a flimsy rope, or due to the frustration of being stuck alone carrying out a job she clearly wasn’t built for, Calx couldn’t really tell. Once again, she tried her hardest to put some form of motion into the crate to no avail. She scrunched her face, mumbled a few swears, only to give up and catch her breath with her tongue dangling.

“Well?” urged the pink pony with a pant. “Huff, huff... Y-you look like a pretty strong dude. How about, huff, you use these muscles for something more u-useful t-than standing around and doin’ a whole lotta nuffin’?”

“Wha- uh, me?” Gray Calx burbled, looking left and right to find another pony on the otherwise empty train station.

She rolled her eyes at that. “Nah, huff... I was talking to the fence behind you. Come on ya dork, snap out of it and bring your flank over here. My vertebrae are about to be grinded to dust.”

“Oh! R-right,” Calx said, caught off-guard.

He approached the pony in trouble. He had no idea why he complied so easily; he didn’t know that somewhat bashful lady. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him to take a quick curious glance at her cutie mark: Three hops bundled together. Interesting. Mastery of the finer arts of cocktail-making, perhaps?

“Where do you want me to bring this, miss?” said Calx who began to pull on the rope, moving the crate with relative ease...

... Until he came to an abrupt stop, almost tripping and falling flat on his face. He turned around, and saw that his easily irritated overseer had both of her hooves onto the crate, firmly holding it in place.

“First of all, Casanova, none of that ‘miss’ business, m’kay? I go by Sweet Pint, and that’s what I expect you to call me. Capiche?” she demanded, to which Calx hesitantly nodded. “And to answer your question, I want this through the backdoor of the Two Arches. That’s the big building over there,” she explained, pointing at the angular roof protruding off in the distance. “Tell ya what, if you can make it in less than ten minutes, as the baremare, drinks are on me.”

“Um, alright then, let’s get this over with,” the discombobulated stallion said.

The two of them walked side-by-side, with Gray Calx carrying the whole weight of the heavy box. More and more he questioned why he accepted and kept accepting to be abrasively bossed around by this rude pony to whom he owed absolutely nothing. Free booze was free booze, sure, but perhaps it also had something to do with his desire to please other ponies, or to make good first impressions? Regardless, he was in it now, so backing out and throwing a ‘you know what, go suck an egg’ her way didn’t seem all too swagger of a move. He’d be done with her soon enough.

Sweet Pint observed the stallion with apparent antipathy, as he was putting his might into dragging her shipment onto the uneven cobblestone path.

“I don’t suppose you come with a name either, tourist?” she remarked after a moment. “That’s sort of how introductions work with us normal ponies. I tell you my name; you tell me yours. Basic stuff.”

“It’s Sunstone,” he grumbled, rope in mouth. “I MEAN- It’s not- it’s Gray Calx! Gray Calx’s my name! Not the other thing I’ve said. I’m Gray Calx, hehehe!”

Sweet Pint let out a degrading chortle. “Wow, you might just be the first pony I’ve met who got their name wrong on the first try. You’re something special, aren’t you?”

He sighed. “Listen, I’ve had a rough day, miss-”

“Sweet Pint,” she reaffirmed with a grumble.

“Right right, Sweet Pint, sorry. But yeah, I do feel a bit overwhelmed. Like, I just rode that train for several hours right after an agitated meeting with princess Celestia, so I think I’m entitled to not be on top of my A game-”

“Okay, no. Pause. You can’t just casually say that you’ve bantered with our ruler and leave it at that. Once we’re at the Two Arches, you will give me all the juicy details, lest I pry them outta you by force,” she chuckled perhaps a bit too sadistically.

“So long as I get my free drinks,” Calx snarked back.

“You’ve still got six minutes, big boy. Make it count.”

Less than six minutes later, the crate had been properly stored in the depository of the Two Arches. As promised, Calx received one liter of hoppy sour ale straight out of the tap. Delicately served inside of a fancy Maßkrug, with the candle-lit room making the apricot hues of the alcoholic beverage shine beautifully through the glass. The barmare had also been meticulous enough to trim the effervescent collar to a perfect beer-to-froth ratio. Our thirsty stallion couldn’t help himself but lick his lips, almost lovestruck: He had earned his prize.

Also as promised, after enjoying the delicious aromas of not having paid for a consumable good, Calx told the outlandish tale of his heated exchange with the almighty princess Celestia. Of course, he kept most of the details to himself and concealed the truth whenever he could help it. This stranger had no right to poke her head into his personal business. Thus, he only allowed himself to give her small bites to satisfy her curiosity. His name change, for instance, had remained unmentioned.

Sweet Pint, meanwhile, listened attentively from the other side of the counter. She didn’t have much else to prepare for the night, as the food and drinks only started to be served past 6 PM (save for Calx’s victory beer, of course). In fact, the two of them were currently alone in the large diner area for the time being.

“So ah, you’re also the innkeeper here, I’m getting?” Calx segued.

“You betcha. What, you lookin’ for a place to stay, Celestia-boy?”

“As it turns out, I am! Care to show me your wares?”

“S’all on the back of the menu. We pride ourselves on having prices that don’t require you to sell one of your kidneys.”

Slowly, Calx was getting accustomed to Sweet Pint’s rather... in-your-face attitude and dry sense of humor. Slowly. Still had some progress to be done, of course. He looked down at the few different rooms offered at the Two Arches. Already, the suite was off the table. He only had so many bits in his saddlebags, after all. Fortunately, after doing a couple of mental calculations, he came to a few positive conclusions.

“Well, the single-bed room seems like it wouldn’t burn too big of a hole in my purse. Without a current job, I think I can last for about a month before you’ll have to kick me out. Should give me ample time to find a way to make money.”

“Aheh, what do you mean, a month? And a job? Wait, wait- I thought you were a tourist? You’re not... you’re not seriously considering moving here?”

“That do be the plan, yes.”

Sweet Pint stayed frozen for a short moment, then scoffed.

“I don’t think you get the full picture, Gray Calx dude, this town is- okay look, I’ll let you onto a lil’ something here. Because you know what’s up with Outer Grove?”

She edged closer, as if ready to tell a secret.

“Nothing. Nothing ever happens in Outer Grove,” she whispered, before withdrawing. “You’re in for a rather uneventful life if you choose to settle in this boring dump.”

“Sort of what I’m hoping for, truth be told,” he admitted, circling a hoof on the rim of his tankard. “I’ve had enough on my plate lately, and I’m not looking for some... wacky adventures to make it even. I just want some peace and quiet. That’s all I want anymore. So uh, I hope I can last here – maybe even build something passable. That’d be pretty neat.”

Sweet Pint stared dumbfoundedly at her sole patron. She considered this bizzarro stallion who came straight out of nowhere, and fought to fish for some goodwill buried underneath her many layers of gratuitous sass.

“Alright. Listen here, Gray dude. Just because I’m so nice, and as a, uh... cough... thank you for the help and for the cool story you gave me, Imma give you the first two nights here free of charge. Can’t let you go bankrupt on the first week, now, can I? That’s Outer Grovian hospitality for you.”

Gray Calx raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by this sudden offer. Every fiber of his being wanted to politely decline, seeing as he’s never liked being on the receiving hoof of charity, but somehow, he had an inkling that saying ‘no’ to Sweet Pint would invoke her wrath. The goal was to make it at least one day in Outer Grove without signing his death warrant.

“Really? I didn’t expect, uh- Well I mean, that’s very generous of you,” Calx fumbled, “but... Huh. I dunno, I was under the impression that you hated my guts?”

“I sincerely have no clue where you got that idea from,” the barmare quickly replied. “Now listen here, keep them flappy lips o’ yours sealed and stop yammerin’ stupid stuff for two seconds, cuz if you’re looking for some quick and easy bits, then perhaps I could offer you a temp job here? Plenty to be done in the Two Arches!”

“Wow, the beer, the room, and now this? You’re spoiling me rotten! What kind of work did you have in mind?” he asked, getting more and more surprised by the minute.

“Well, let’s see here. How do you fare in the kitchen? Can I trust you with a spatula?”

“I once tried to boil water and ended up burning it. The water, I mean. I burned water.”

“Ah, a real cordon bleu, I see!” she mocked, doing a chef’s kiss. “Okay, let’s forget food prep. How about drinks? What do you know about them?”

“I know that I like chugging them,” Gray Calx quipped, before hydrating himself.

Sweet Pint couldn’t resist but snicker with a snort. “Heh, that’s funny. You’re funny. See? I knew I had a good reason to like you, smartass.”

“I try,” Calx smiled a little. “Anyway, I’m going to make this easy for you: My main proficiency is geology. Be it in a lab, or on the field. Oh, and sculpting too; I’m quite the artist, you know,” he added, tongue-in-cheek.

“… Not quite the set of skills that I was hoping for. Though you won’t have any difficulty snatching a job that pays well here in the Grove, I’ll say this much.”

Well, a little bit of good news for a change certainly was a pleasure to hear. Gray Calx nodded and emptied his glass. All in all, not too shabby of a start. He had already secured himself a place to stay, so going full vagrant was now a concern of the past. On top of that, he was all beered up; what’s not to love? His worries and anger that had followed him from Canterlot were slowly starting to dissipate. No more reminiscing on what he had done behind everyone’s back, and how it was too late to reopen the doors he had permanently closed. He took a decision, a supremely drastic decision, yes, but by Tartarus, he was going to stand by it, for better or worse. Outer Grove was a new start; looking behind was just grounds for regression.

Sweet Pint couldn’t have known any of this, of course. Calx was to keep his setbacks and his past mysteriously devoid of information. The less they knew, the safer he was. It was the best and only way to protect his machinations.

But eh, there wasn’t much to worry about – at least, for the time being. Sweet Pint didn’t particularly strike him as a nark. A bit unmannered at best, but definitely not a nark. Case and point: The lady hadn’t even noticed Calx’s mental respite. She was too busy being somewhat pensive.

“Hmmm, you know, thinking about it some more? I may take you up on that sculpting biz o’ yours,” she said after a moment. “This place is a bit too drab for my taste and could use a lil’ more pep. Maybe you could carve some nifty wooden gizmos and we could hang ‘em on the walls? Finally decorate this place proper, give it a bit more of an identity.”

Calx looked around. “Oh shoot, not to be even more of a party pooper, but I’m much more of a stonemason than anything. I know how to chisel a mean rock, but wood? I can only botch that sort of work.”

“Ah, tch, that’s too bad. The only stone we have here that isn’t busy supporting the whole dang structure are the three columns on the front terrasse.”

“Weeeell,” Calx pondered with a hoof rubbing on his cheek, “depending on what kind of rock we’re talking about, and how thick the support beams are, I could probably rearrange one of ‘em into something artistic?” He shrugged. “Eh, don’t mind me, I’m basically throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks.”

“Actually, for a stallion so insistent on speaking outta his bum, that ain’t half bad of an idea!” Sweet Pint joked. “Putting emphasis on the set pieces the Two Arches is named after? Now that’s the kind of out-of-the-box publicity that’d make our place look sexier in travel pamphlets, ha!”

As she finished endorsing Calx’s ad-libbed suggestion, she pulled a few menus from a compartment behind the counter, eyeing the first few paying clients steadily reducing the number of free seats around the low-profile circular tables. She didn’t expect high traffic tonight, but she knew better than making thirsty ponies wait unnecessarily for their happy hour windfall.

“Just so you know, I’ll have to ask my superior before you go all Michelangelhoof on us,” she asserted, placing the menus on her back. “He’s kind of a money-grubber; you know how managers go. And the bloke rarely comes here, ain’t that a surprise. He’d rather visit his other branches, as in, the ones that aren’t hidden on the edge of the world, if you catch my drift.”

Calx nodded. He was a patient stallion, he didn’t mind delaying that kind of side job if he had to. Besides, Sweet Pint was essentially doing him a favor, so it was on her terms, not his.

This whole exchange elevated something incredibly surreal: How instinctively disconnected from his previous life the town’s newcomer was feeling at the moment. Perhaps it was due to how swiftly Calx had segregated his present self from his past self, replacing what made him who he was with something new, something untainted? He was essentially a pony in mint condition as it stood. Rebuilding a life from the ground up felt right, because, amongst many things, he could freely detach from the obstacles that kept strangling him on a daily basis. It was one gigantesque relief. A 20 something year relief. He could finally breathe.

Sweet Pint veered around a smiling Gray Calx, and with a quick nudge of the elbow, said, “Welp, gotta put a peg into this convo and go do what I’m paid to do. Ya need anything else to quench your thirst with, bucko?”

“Oh uh, no, I’m good, thanks,” he replied, not wanting to usurp more of her time. “I was actually thinking about heading out and buying myself some supplies. I err, packed very lightly when I left Canterlot and- Actually, do you know a place where I could get myself a bit of groceries, some cosmetic stuff, and perhaps a bit of scribbling material to kill the hours?”

“Hrmmm. Your best bet would be to make a detour to The Clover Mart. There’s this cute mare who works over there, heh... Anyhow, you’ll find that shop at the corner of the two big boulevards in the lower part of town. It’s the building with the forest green shingles; only an imbecile would miss it. So, y’know, try not to be that.”

“Gotcha. Thanks for the tip, I’ll head there straight away,” he said, pushing away from his stool.

“Should move that gray rump of yours then,” warned Sweet Pint, walking away from her crate-pulling aid. “They close at the same time we start dispatching drinks, so that gives you a little over thirty minutes. Once again, big boy, make it count!”

With every intention of making it so, Calx re-equipped his saddle bags and trotted with haste out of the tavern. With luck seemingly on his side, hopefully, his pit stop at The Clover Mart would go without faults.

To say that things weren’t going all too greatly in Twilight’s head would be laughably inaccurate. A quick glance at her depressed form slowly trekking through the occupied streets of Ponyville would highlight a contrast as sharp as pouring oil in water.

On one corner, you had Celestia’s sun giving warmth in a clear blue sky, ponies bouncing with bliss and boundless euphoria, a technicolor scenery where rhododendrons and daffodils bloomed, families hugging, laughing together, joining in various activities... All of that, and more. Heck, even the chickadees were chanting in a chorus of energetic chirps. It was peaceful, amicable, and above all, harmonious. Everything was right in the world. Living the good life felt right.

On the other corner, however, you had one tormented princess – an outlier stranded in a saccharine utopia of a thousand smiles. She couldn’t blend with the rest of her entourage any less if she tried. There was feeling down in the dumps, and then, there was her. Gave a whole new perspective to what having a bad day entitled.

No, truly, there weren’t many other ways to put it: Twilight was depressed.

It all started on the dawn of her final day in Outer Grove. A Monday that, in all normality, should’ve marked the start of her diplomatic mission in strengthening the relations between the forgotten principality and the rest of Equestria. Surveying the ponies, providing what they were lacking, giving them comfort and assistance, overseeing the repairs, using her magical affinity for the greater good, and much more: That’s what a princess worth her crown was expected to do.

In reality, Twilight was in no suitable condition to be the liaison she had hoped (and officially vowed) to be. Nopony could avoid the curse of succumbing under the pressure of a turbulent emotional state, doubled by a serious lack of sleep. Twilight herself was no exception. For all of her baggage and experience, for all of her drive and resilience, for all of her determination and desire for success, for all of her hard-fought battles and personal victories, at the end of the day, at her very core, she was still a sister. And despite some recent disagreements, she would never allow anypony to strip that label away from her. She was a sister, and she was forever going to be a sister.

That’s not to say that she was unbreachable. Au contraire.

Under her many defensive layers of confidence and poise, a heart once pumped with the promise of protection. It had done so for twenty years and a half, cradled comfortably in a climate of relative peace. Alas, that all changed on the infamous night of finding her missing brother, where she made the unforgivable mistake of exposing her weak point. As a result, an opportunity presented itself, and the heart she tried so hard to safeguard had been violently pierced.

Sunstone singlehoofedly accomplished what no other villain had done to this day: He actually managed to dig under her defensive veil and, without showing the faintest hint of regret, struck where it hurt the most. And hurt it did. Much more than she could’ve ever anticipated.

When Discord corrupted her friends into being negative versions of themselves, Twilight came close to giving up. When Chrysalis tricked everyone into believing she was the real Cadance, Twilight had never felt so alone. When Tirek razed her home to the ground, Twilight dealt with a surge of emotions she didn’t even know she had in her. But when Sunstone told her straight to her face that he hated her with a burning passion? When he confirmed what she always suspected but never had the guts to admit? When he spat at her with a kind of animosity ponies weren’t even supposed to be capable of harboring?

Empty. It felt so empty. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend the turn of events that had led them to this point. How strikingly astray these two have become. Try as she might, there was no logic to be extracted out of that estrangement. It was just too unbelievable, too inconceivable.

Two nights at the Two Arches; two nights following two skirmishes. One against a twosome of bears, and one against a lone pony. One where she recovered greatly, and one where her mental state took the plunge. Naturally, that clear-cut juxtaposition didn’t go over Sweet Pint’s head, who immediately perceived something off about the princess after she rose early from a sleepless night. Food had been declined, and coffee was a no-sale.

In fact, the princess whispered something about leaving preemptively, and insisted on being in the barmare’s debt if she could bring said news to the mayor’s team. When prompted about this sudden turn of events, Twilight made up something about receiving a distant message from Spike, recalling her to the Friendship castle due to some urgent and unexpected business. The princess couldn’t help but feel like she dishonored a certain apple farmer’s moral code with her made-up excuse, but when all was said and done, she departed without any ceremonial goodbyes.

And even though she wasn’t entirely sure of it, Sweet Pint could’ve sworn she caught a glimpse of the princess gazing upon the middle column in front of the tavern, really soaking in the aesthetics of the three ponies carved in, and blinking a few tears before flying away. Art was pretty, sure, but to be moved to tears? And this early in the morning? Something definitely felt amiss.

Meanwhile, Twilight headed to the train station, trying her luck once again. When she arrived from above and saw a platform completely devoid of vehicles, she considered just sort of... flying along the tracks. Fly and fly for hours, until her alicorn body would give up on her. A five hour ride translated into pure analogical flight was nonsensical, really. She knew it’d take her almost a whole day of batting her wings nonstop. She’d collapse from exhaustion long before reaching the halfway point.

Yet, her strong emotional drive was convulsing in her chest with enough fervor for her to go forth with that insane plan. Using that resolve to power through the physical pain.

What else was she supposed to do? Sitting around and waiting for the clock to spill hours of pure nothingness would give her too much time to think, too much of an opening to go back and try to parlay with her brother again. It was obvious that he didn’t want her in his life, and getting blown a second time after extending the olive branch would achieve nothing but finish her off.

And so, for a solid two hours, Twilight used all of her concentration on keeping her flight smooth and steady. That’s as long as it took before her muscles started to seriously ache, with the princess having more and more difficulty exerting motion in the bones of her wings. After banking and tilting down one too many times, before she nosedived to her doom, the princess continued her pilgrimage on hooves, as out of energy as she was allowed to be. With no sleep in her body and no food in her stomach, she was exhausted and starved.

This was a terrible idea. She wasn’t even a quarter into her hike, and she was already considering calling it quits. What was she possibly thinking when she deliberately left the only populated settlement for kilometers around? She always prided herself on being a level-headed pony who acted rationally, but this? Not her finest hour. Yes, a most terrible idea indeed.

A stroke of luck blessed her with the promise of rescue. At first, a dot by the horizon, far away onto the tracks. Soon enough, the dot turned into something more defined, and in the end, the obvious became obvious: It was a train, waiting patiently with the engine turned off. Three ponies disembarked from it when they recognized what – or rather, who the purple blotch approaching them really was. A railroad engineer, a conductor, and a chef galloped to give her assistance, flabbergasted by the princess’ lone presence at a place like this.

As it turns out, these were the same ponies part of the crew that accompanied her on her way to Outer Grove. The same folks whom she ordered to wait for her input back at the previous junction. Seeing as the allocated two days deadline was running its course, without any news, the engineer embraced a pang of courage and took the matter into his own capable hooves, stationing his locomotive just far enough from Outer Grove to intervene if need be. Being on standby just in case the citizens had to be evacuated, or if they needed to quickly borrow a means of transport. As the stallion himself said, “better be pre-emptive rather than patching up unprepared.”

It was no surprise that the gang was unable to comprehend what could’ve led their princess to trek in the middle of nowhere all on her own, fatigued and beaten down, without protection of any kind. She did as best as she could to summarize the situation, telling them that all was good, that everything had been resolved.

Well... not everything, right? After all, she didn’t look too thrilled, which raised a bit of suspicion. But this was for Twilight to keep, and not for them to know. The Ursas might’ve been dealt with, but the battle was far from over. A battle that no other agents could partake in. It was all on her. An incommensurable burden she had to carry on her withers, which she did for the remainder of the train ride – back to the Las Pegasus station, and then, back to Ponyville.

It felt like hell. The two train rides felt like hell.

Exactly as she had feared, she found herself with too much time to think, and too little actions she could take. Time became meaningless, and the outside world, irrelevant. Maybe she had been spoken to on a few occasions by concerned travellers, but she was simply unable to heed their calls. All she was left with was some alone time to figure out what had happened, and what could be done. And at some point? As she thought more and more about what had been said during yesterday’s malarkey of alcohol, shouts, and obscenities?

She gradually accepted that Sunstone might’ve been right about more than a few things.

This is primarily why the princess, on her way to her castle with that conclusion still fresh in her mind, was so morose. Not only was Sunstone’s hostilities hard to digest, but at the bottom of it all, he was right. Behind the insults and the impulsive behavior was a pony who spoke the truth, and nothing but the truth.

She could’ve done more.
She could’ve tried harder.
She should’ve seen the signs.
She should’ve been there for him.

But as usual, she had been too preoccupied with her own quibbles to make any serious attempts at reaching out. How could she have been so blind? This was the Moon Dancer incident all over again, topped with an extra layer of complications. If only she had learned about the virtues of friendship years prior to her relocation in Ponyville, perhaps she could’ve been better equipped to stop it all before it became too late.

Yes, perhaps...

With more of these thoughts bombarding Twilight Sparkle from within, she almost failed to notice that she crossed the large doorway of the Friendship castle, the coolness of the inside clashing with the hot late afternoon air of the outside world. By the end of the entry parlor, between two grand staircases, was a circular room the princess wasn’t unfamiliar with, its two doors wide open. Inside, a scene in plain view caught her undivided attention: A little ghostly orb above a protruded disc, surrounded by half a dozen chairs.

Oh, she knew what it was. She knew what it meant.

After all this time, her cutie mark was still floating above the cutie map. Almost taunting her with its presence, as if arrogantly saying: “Come on, what’s the hold up, princess? Solve me, already!” Understanding its significance, she scoffed at it with a snarl. It was insulting. It was the last thing she wanted to see. It was... well, to tell the truth? It was too much to bear.

She sagged, defeated, unable to dish out any frustration at the little star blowing a proverbial raspberry her way. That pictogram was as right as Sunstone was: She had failed him. She had failed him a day ago, and she had failed him for the entirety of her upbringing. Maybe the whole goal of this friendship trip was for her to fully soak in the repercussions of her lackluster efforts as a child? The world wanted to give her a sadistic reminder that she unwittingly left a family member behind; it wanted to rub salt in the wound.

To think that all this time, as she grew up to cultivate her many skills, all she really desired was Sunstone’s approval. When in truth, it was the opposite: He had wanted her approval all along. Sunstone had been sneaky about it, his ego doing a magnificent job at blurring the line between his true self and the rest of the Sparkles, but after meeting with him and suffering the whiplash of his explosive reactions? It became as clear as crystal. That cutie mark in front of her was the memento of a realization she should’ve had years ago. Before Sunstone had enough, before he became embittered, before he wrote about his... well, his voluntary exile, apparently.

Twilight shook her head with fervor; being ridiculed by the friendship problem on standby would advance nothing. Instead, she cantered away from the throne room, unable to withstand another second of being bullied by inanimate objects. She then headed toward the safest haven she could think of: The library. Yes, over there, she could bask in the safety of her books, clutching onto them like dolls. It was the most effective way of seeking any form of comfort after these precarious days of travelling, orating, sleuthing, fighting, realizing, enduring, and, of course, crying. A safe space that could help her reset. Hopefully...

A sneak peak inside, and in between the tall shelves garnished with colorful tomes of all kinds, onto a little stash of comic books turned into a makeshift beanbag, a lazy Spike held Supermare’s latest in one claw, the other busy foraging into a bowl chock-full of glittering sapphires. Having found his next prey, he flicked a blue gem into the air, caught it in his maw, and crunched his delicious snack with a moan of pure satisfaction.

Midway through the mastication process, he opened an eye and gazed directly at the purple pony who stared right back. He hesitantly chewed a few more times, his look panning from his bowl of gourmandise to the mess his throne of superheroes had made. His transgression now unmistakable, he gulped both of his food and his stress. Ensued a sheepish smile, plus a few beads of sweat for good measure.

“Oh, Twilight! B-b-back so soon?”

Immediately after saying that, a tilted tower of books in the unkempt room came down in a loud ruckus, sheets of papers catapulted in all directions.

“... Uuuuh, it’s not what it looks like, I promise, hehehe~!” he pleaded with a guilty smile.

Twilight took a good prolonged look at the total war zone that was the library. A small part of her wanted to scold her assistant, a bit disappointed that he had been slacking off this whole time behind her back. Instead, she simply sighed, and tried a smile.

“Um, don’t worry about it, Spike. It’s just... It’s just good to see you.”

“Y-you don’t understand, I swear I was only keeping watch over these comic books and those tasty did you just tell me not to worry about it?”

Twilight motioned ‘yes’ with her head, entering the library with shy steps. This prompted an incredulous expression from Spike as he regained the floor.

“... Really? You’re going to let me off the hook, just like that?”

Another silent ‘yes’ from Twilight.

“Okay, now I know something’s up,” he determined. “Arriving waaaaay ahead of schedule, that’s already a bit weird coming from you. But hoofwaving my mess away that easily? That’s not the Twilight I know. So, out with it, Sparkle.”

“Muh!? Um... n-n-nothing’s up! I’m perfectly fine!”

Unphased, Spike crossed his arms and gave her that look. Twilight, meanwhile, tried her best to maintain her charade by holding her breath. Sadly, it was a futile endeavour. Unable to stage her happiness any longer, she exhaled, lowered her head, and then slumped on her bottom. Her assistant, once on the attack, couldn’t have known about the inner demons she was tucking away. When he realized that he might’ve probed a bit too hard, he dropped his accusatory stance in a heartbeat. He approached the sullen alicorn and gave her a much-needed hug, which she returned gleefully.

They stayed like this for a while. It felt good not only to be back home, but also to receive a bit of support and positivity in these troubled times. The brotherly problem was far from over – the cutie map taking perhaps a bit too much joy confirming this – but everypony needed a moment of respite. This was her moment.

“Spike, I...” she whimpered in a chokehold of emotions, “I have a favour to ask of you.”

Detaching from the hug, the bite-sized dragon stood straight. “Uh, sure! Anything for you, Twi. What can I help with?”

“Can you... Can you fetch the family album? I have something to know... Something I desperately need to find out.”

“Huh? The family album, really?” he repeated, scratching his head. “Bit of a weird ask, don’tcha think?”

“Just... Please just do it. I need to see. I need to pinpoint exactly when he... when he stopped loving me.”

As she was explaining herself, Spike had already nabbed a small key from a drawer in a reclused corner of the library. He made sure to blow the spiderwebs out of the brass object before plunging it into a locked panel of a specific bookshelf.

Deciphering Twilight’s latest lament was getting more and more cryptic. But, as her number one assistant, it was his job to avoid upsetting her further. So he kept to the task at hoof, flipping the lid open and grabbing the fat dusty binder hidden behind. The extra secrecy of that family relic wasn’t without reason. These were, after all, private memories best kept away from the public eye. Twilight’s childhood wasn’t for sale.

With the thick photo album held between shaky arms, Spike looked back at Twilight. She hadn’t moved a muscle. He gave her an apologetic smile, and tried something:

“You know, uh, just because Shining teases you every now and then, doesn’t mean he stopped loving you, Twi. You’re probably overthinking stuff again.”

“I’m not talking about Shiny...” she countered in a murmur.

“Okay, well, neither does your dad. Sure, Mr. Night Light spends maybe a liiiittle bit too much time at the bingo hall, but that has nothing to do with-”

“It’s not about my dad either!” she rebutted again, this time considerably louder.

Spike was running out of candidates. Who else could be a ‘he’ and have a noticeable presence in the Sparkles’ personal gallery? Who else in this book could have soured her mood with such professionalism? Yes, who was the perpetrator indeed?

...

Well, there was someone alright. Captain negativity himself. The destroyer of joy, the harbinger of bad mood, the guru of all naysayers. Would explain why Twilight was slumped onto the floor, a figurative cloud raining down on her. But why now of all times? Twilight had all but assured him she had turned the page a long time ago, so why dig up the name that had been laid to rest in the distant past?

“Aww, Twilight,” Spike sighed, having confidently identified who the mysterious stallion was, “what has brought this on? Sunstone’s been, um, well he... He’s no longer with us. Hasn’t been for a while. I mean, I know this is sad and all, but why are you thinking about this all of the sudden?”

“Because that’s just it, Spike!” she said, bouncing up in a jiffy, now face-to-face with the small dragon. “Sunstone is not a goner!”

“... W-What do you mean?” he stuttered in return.

“Sunstone is STILL ALIVE.”

WHAM

Spike dropped the book on the floor, unable to keep a steady grip. He couldn’t believe his ears. Has he correctly processed what she just told him? Or did his brain decide to go rogue on him? Because, aheh, it sounded like he just heard that Sunstone, the one and only grumpy Sunstone, was currently NOT pushing up daisies and was in fact still prancing about somewhere in Equestria. But that was outright impossible, now, was it?

“Ha... hahaha!” Spike chuckled nervously. “G-good one Twilight! A-almost had me going there.”

“You... you think I’m pulling your leg? Spike, I’ve seen him with my own eyes! I’ve talked to him! W-we chatted and... I would NEVER joke around about such things!”

Well, she had a point: Humor wasn’t Twilight’s forte, let alone the dark kind. She was too true to herself to play pretend with her moods. A bona fide bout of hysteria was as Twilight as it could be; she couldn’t fake hissy fits if her life depended on it.

Spike brought a hand to his forehead. “How is this even possible? Haven’t you told me that he was the victim of a lethal accident a few years back?”

That was indeed what the Sparkles had told Spike, which was kind of a half truth if you squinted hard enough. Explaining in great detail the method Sunstone used to depart from the mortal realm was deemed a bit too much for a dragon of his age. Analysing the sort of mental strain and depressive thoughts that would push a pony to nullify their own life was not something Twilight wished to explore with someone who had yet to enter puberty. Spike had every right to enjoy his childhood before being exposed to a sad reality that was too often ignored and/or brushed away in modern Equestria.

“No! I mean- No, t-that’s what we thought! That’s what we all thought! But...” Twilight hovered the album in front of her and magically flipped a couple of pages, “he was there, in the flesh! He was in Outer Grove. I’ve bumped into him!”

“You’ve bumped into... Oh boy, that’s...” Spike droned out, fidgeting with his claws. “W-w-what are we gonna do about this?”

True, he wasn’t the biggest fan of Twilight’s oldest brother, but the last thing he wished for was for the poor stallion to meet a gruesome end! That perverse thought never once crossed his mind. No, in fact, Sunstone’s departure from this plane of existence had affected him as much as it did with the rest of the family. And just like them, it took him a while, but he managed to move on. Life goes on, right?

But now that this whole mourning period has been for naught? Well, where did that leave the Sparkles? What was the next move? What did this all mean? A myriad of big questions, yes, but the one that trounced them all: How was he even supposed to feel about this?

Weird. Definitely weird. Predominantly weird, actually. Spike hadn’t been trained to properly deal with a pony close to him suddenly reappearing years after being MIA. After all, resurrection wasn’t a topic covered by any of Twilight’s books.

Speaking of Twilight, since she still hadn’t answered his question, what with being too occupied rifling through the many pictures with apparent melancholy, Spike coughed politely. “W-well, I mean, uh... Sooooo, h-how was he? How’s the old guy doing?” he noncommittally asked, cringing at his awful segue.

“How was he? Oh, I’ll tell you how! He hates me, Spike! He hates my guts with a kind of hostility that would render Chrysalis proud! H-he... He has always had nothing but pure hatred for me; that’s why he left us behind, that’s why he went into hiding! He couldn’t stand my presence! The only real accident Sunstone had was being my brother!”

“Oh I uh... I’m sorry Twi, I didn’t-”

He tried to put a comforting hand on her back. It would’ve been a kind gesture, had she not shoved the binder right into his face.

“Look at him in this picture!” she demanded. “Look at his scowl! This one was taken by a photographer at the beach when I was six. Look at this! I was nuzzling him, and he was scowling!! Does that look like a pony who ever loved me!?”

Spike always thought that the “good” chemistry between the two siblings had never been reciprocal. To have figured that out years before Twilight did due to her inherent bias was as good for his self-validation as it pained him. Because if there ever was a time to put the lid on a ‘I told you so?’ Now was probably that time. Hence, he bit his tongue, not wanting to be caught giving the wrong answer to a rhetorical question.

“How in Equus have I never noticed this? How deep in denial must I have been!?” bellowed Twilight to herself.

Again, Spike kept his remarks to a minimum. When the princess noticed her assistant tapping his clawed indexes together, she saw someone who really didn’t deserve to be her emotional punching bag. A bit more lucid, she sighed.

“When I saw him again, I tried to reach out,” she resumed, noticeably calmer. “I tried to talk to him, but he wanted nothing to do with me. Nothing! In fact, he hoped... h-he hoped...” She breathed out, finding courage to articulate her next words. “He hoped that horrible things would happen to me. He told me so with such authenticity, it’s almost as if he pledged an oath. I’ve never, never seen a pony who wished for my own demise with the passion he exerted!”

“Wuh-what!? Why would he ever say something like this to you? To his own sister?” genuinely wondered Spike.

“Because he hates everything I stand for! My crown, my title, my friends, my education, my special ties with the other princesses, my adventures... my everything! I’ve always had it so easy compared to him, and he’s grown extremely indignant about it. That’s why he wanted me to have things not go my way; so he could step up, so he could experience what it’s like to be the centerpiece of our family, so he could have a chance to feel accomplished for a change!”

“W-whoa, no kidding! S’that why I’ve never seen him smile? Because he was envious of you this whole time?”

Twilight nodded. “I... I believe so.”

...

“Well... forget about this jealous meanie head, Twilight! If he only wants to bring misery in your life, and if he wants to live in secrecy, then I say, wish granted!”

“How can I!? How can I forget that I have a brother who banished himself to the other corner of the world? A brother who was right about me!? On the whole line, from A to Z! Spike, it’s my fault he became the pony that he is today. It’s my fault he wrote about his... accident. From the beginning, all I saw was an irate pony who thought of me as a bugging little sister, but what I should’ve seen was a pony who was in dire need of a helping hoof! But no! We cast him aside, we ignored his mood swings, we allowed him to develop his familial aversion, and we... we turned him into this!”

She re-exposed the family album. On it, Sunstone sitting at the dinner table, Twilight Sparkle to his right, Shining Armor to his left, a birthday hat on his head. Two smiles and a frown. A young colt about to blow 14 candles with a single wish in mind: Going back to his room and eating his chocolate cake alone.

“Who is this pony?”

Both alicorn and drake looked up from the pages to see an inquisitive Starlight Glimmer standing in the entrance of the library. Twilight had the album wide open, exposing the picture for everypony to see. When she fully processed what was happening, with a swift application of telekinesis, she clasped the binder shut, floated it away into its proper casing, turned the key, and completed her performance with the biggest grin she could fake.

“S-Starlight! Uh, that was uh... N-nopony! That was nopony, hehehehe!!”

“... You’re back awfully early,” she squinted. “Did you solve the problem in Outer Grove already?”

“Did I- Yup! Yup, that’s exactly it, you’ve hit the nail on the head! Bullseye, hehehaha!!” Twilight latched on, much to Spike’s disapproval. “Solved it like psssshhhtt it was nothing! J-just like that!”

“Uh-huh. I suppose this is why I saw your cutie mark still loitering above the map on my way here, hmmm?” she retorted with a cocky smile.

Twilight became completely white. A strand of her mane even curled up with an audible twang. Starlight had laid a trap and she foolishly sprung it. Now that her friend was done playing coy, the skittish princess was running out of options.

“Okay, you’ve got me,” she admitted, her ears drooping. “It didn’t, um, go exactly according to plan. I had to come back because uh... because ah...”

“Becaaaaause?” Starlight edged closer, as curious as ever.

“... Well that depends. How much of our conversation did you overhear? If, erm, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Bits and pieces. Heard you talk about a pony named Sunstone? That a friend of yours?” She tapped her chin, all analytical. “Was he the one whose picture you two were ogling?”

To this, Spike inched closer, seizing his opportunity. “Actually, that wasn’t a friend. That was Twilight’s bro-”

“MY COUSIN!!” interrupted Twilight with a concerning eye twitch.

Opportunity seized, yet so swiftly taken away. Before finishing what he had to say, the little fellow got teleported by Twilight’s magic above a disorganised pile of books in the far back of the library. After falling into the mound of papery lore and preserved knowledge, he popped his head out with both of his pupils rotating out of sync.

“Yup, my cousin!” reasserted Twilight. “My very, very distant cousin! An unimportant somepony whom I barely ever met, hehehe~...!”

Starlight blinked, blinked again, and then blinked some more, bewildered by what had just unfolded in front of her. The sudden mood shift, the teleportation, Twilight smiling creepily a centimeter away from her face... Yeah, there was no denying that something wasn’t right with the unhinged princess of friendship.

“R-really?” further questioned Starlight. “For somepony so unimportant, it kinda sounded like you were shocked to learn that he was still alive.”

“Ah, n-nope! Nope nope nope! You misheard! I was merely saying, uh, that it was ‘a good day to be alive!’ Seeing as I made it back to the castle safe and sound, you know...?”

Starlight Glimmer did not, in fact, know. If anything, she was thoroughly unconvinced – the exact kind of nonplussed response that only made the neurotic princess feel even more backed into a corner. With the addition of Spike staggering back toward them, she knew her time was limited. These two were about to perform a pincer manoeuvre on her, and she’d have no choice but to abdicate. Her only saving grace was a well-placed excuse. A quick getaway from this conversation. A pretext to keep Starlight’s skepticism at bay.

Thus, the princess feigned a hoof slap on her head. “Oh! But you know what? I came back so quickly, I left all of my luggage at the train station! S-silly me, right? Would you be so kind as to retrieve them for me? I’d do it myself, but I am sooo exhausted by the trip!”

“I-”

“Lovely! Thank you so much, Starlight, my friend, my pal, my bestest of all buddies!” Twilight said, chaperoning her out of the library via the most indiscrete head push in the world. And then, after slamming the doors shut, “Take all the time you need! There’s definitely no rush!”

With her ears glued to the door, she no longer heard any resistance on the other side. Feeling the noose loosening, she wiped the sweat out of her forehead, right before dropping onto the cold tiles with some kind of half wheeze, half grunt.

“Oof, that was way too close for comfort, but I’m glad we avoided the worst!”

“Guh, s-s-speak for yourself,” Spike stammered, still a bit dazzled by the commotion. “W-what was that all about? And why didn’t you ask me to get your stuff? Hello-ooo, number one assistant over here?” he complained, a pair of thumbs poking his chest.

“Isn’t it obvious? We can’t have Starlight finding out about the mysterious brother we’ve never mentioned before!”

“Um, why not?”

“Because, it’s- Spike, haven’t you paid attention to what I’ve said before? Sunstone wants to be left alone! If we go ahead and drop his name without being cautious about it, then it’s bound to give him unnecessary attention. And that’s exactly the opposite of what he wants!” She sighed, getting back on four hooves. “For once, I’d like to respect his wishes. That’s... that’s the least I can do at this point.”

Sunstone’s voice echoed in the princess’ mind. “I’m fighting for my right to be left alone,” it berated, “but that clearly went over your head!” Well, not this time it didn’t. His message was fully heard and fully understood. If it’s privacy he sought so badly, it’s privacy he shall receive.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell your parents at least?” Spike wondered as he began to pick up a few books off the floor. “I feel like at least they should know...”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Oh, brilliant! ‘Hey mom, hey dad, did you know that your long-lost son is actually still alive and kicking? Here’s his address and his postal code. Anyway, what’s for dinner?’ Spike, that’ll send them packing immediately! Again, that’s precisely what he doesn’t want and what we’re trying to avoid!”

Her assistant kept to himself, not bothering with a reply. Either because Twilight’s justification was pure folly, or because he was too busy balancing a tall stack of twenty-something books.

“And before you say anything,” Twilight warned Spike who really wasn’t going to say anything, “Shiny is also off the table! Don’t even get me started on what he’ll do to Sunstone the moment he hears that his brother has lied to him – to all of us – for years. He’ll be like an unleashed Diamond Dog! He’ll go straight to his doorstep and buck his teeth out for what he has done. I’m not even sure Cadance will be able to restrain him!”

“Twilight, you have to tell somepony!” finally yielded Spike. “You can’t keep this all for yourself, it’s not going to do you any goo-ACK!”

As if poor Spike hadn’t been sufficiently maimed today, he just had to trip on a thick atlas left haphazardly on the floor. Needless to say, his tower of books never made it to their proper shelves. Twilight stared at him (and at the resultant mess) with big white eyes, unsure if she should be amused by his slapstick comedy, or reluctant to agree with his words of advice.

“I’m not... I’m not keeping this for myself,” she ultimately concluded. “I confessed to you, didn’t I?”

“Well yeah, but uh, what about your friends?” he tentatively asked, shaking a few books off his head.

“What about them? I mean, I love them dearly, but... It’s still not something I wanna burden them with.”

For the nth time, Twilight sighed. She approached Spike to give him a hoof up, which he gladly accepted. All the while, she mentally prepared herself to explain the main reason why she was so picky with his more... open-hearted approach vis-à-vis the Sunstone affair.

“After Nightmare Moon’s defeat, after we were recalled to Canterlot to learn about what had occurred to my brother... Do you remember the promise we made to each other? How we vowed to never mention Sunstone to anypony? How we agreed that it’d be easier if we just kept his tragic story to ourselves? Well, I’d still like to uphold that promise. I really don’t see why we should revise it now of all times. What, because I’ve learned that Sunny wasn’t as gone as I thought he was? That’s hardly an excuse!

“But let’s say that I do anyway. Let’s pretend that I meet the girls and suddenly admit, half a decade after befriending them, that surprise! I have twice as many brothers as they originally thought I did. How do you suppose they’re going to react? For me, it's beyond obvious: They’ll be fawning over the idea of meeting him ASAP! An idea that’ll pass very quickly once AJ learns how he betrayed his family, once Pinkie learns how big of a ‘grumpy meanie mean head’ he’s been, once Fluttershy learns how much grief his insults gave me... Should I go on?”

Spike waved away the rhetorical question with a quiet headshake.

“No, truly, I need to keep my lips shut,” she recapped with a wry smile. “Anything short of that is asking for trouble. I... I can’t tell anypony. We can’t tell anypony. Anypony at all! Because the minute one of us leaks anything related to Sunstone’s existence, you can be sure that this unbelievable story is going to be picked up by the papers. What a scoop it’ll be for Equestrians everywhere to learn that one of their princesses has had an unknown brother hidden away from the public eye this whole time! I can’t see any brighter spotlight shining on him after that. Journalists and paparazzi will be dying to book exclusive interviews with him! So to avoid any of this, we need to keep quiet, as we have been for the past five years. Nothing has changed!”

There was sort of an awkward silence, and eye contact was avoided. Spike knew where this was going. It wasn’t his first time trying to keep Twilight’s sanity in check. She’s always been prone to let her critical thinking wither away when the direness of a debacle became a bit too much.

How ironic that her very own intelligence could sometimes be her undoing. Her brain has always been her strongest asset, yet sometimes, following the brain was a suboptimal play when the heart really should’ve been the organ in charge. Her current predicament sure was a prime example! However, for Twilight, when family was involved, she simply couldn’t afford to gamble on the heart; she had to remain by the book – quite literally.

Given that, what was really holding her back, here? Did she really lay out the whole of her enquiries, or was there perhaps something else that made her reluctant to find an ear to talk to? Maybe there was an underlying issue that pushed Twilight Sparkle to maintain her mutism?

An imaginary lightbulb turned on in Spike’s head when he remembered the response she gave him after prompting her to enroll a few guards for her trip to Outer Grove. She didn’t take his suggestion all too kindly. In fact, she had been pretty forward with how adverse she was at the idea of travelling with a couple of allies, and how much she preferred to take care of business all on her own.

“Oh, I see what’s going on!” Spike raved, getting the full picture. “You’re hesitant to talk it out because the cutie map only summoned you and no-one else, right? And you don’t want to botch the friendship problem by seeking out help? C’mon now Twi, don’t be silly. I’m preeeetty sure the map can make an exception for once, right?”

Compromising the cutie map’s desires?
Putting the mission in jeopardy?
Going against the instructions?
Disrespecting the friendship problem’s guidelines?

“Uh, Twi? You look-”

She stomped. “I don’t care about the friendship problem! I couldn’t care less!! I just want MY BROTHER BACK!!”

...

Twilight huffed in and out, realizing that the little dragon was taking a few steps back with his hands held up in self defense. She immediately mellowed out, feeling guilty at having been a little... too extreme with him for the second time this evening. She shouldn’t have raised her volume. There was never a good reason to become loud at your friends and making them feel vulnerable.

“I-I’m sorry Spike. I didn’t mean to lash out like this. This isn’t your fault. None of this is. I guess I’m just a bit stressed out...”

“W-well, I mean... T-that’s perfectly understandable, uh...”

“But, the good news is, there is a solution out there, I’m sure of it. There has to be! And I won’t quit until I put my hoof on it!” she declared with her chest pumped up. “I just need... I just need some time to think. I need a few days to hash out a plan...”

She lifted her chin and panned her look across the library. In complete disarray it was, but the books were very much still out there, begging to be read.

“... And maybe give myself a little bit of me time as well, so I can figure out what I can do about my brother. I already thought I had lost him once, and I don’t... I don’t wanna lose him again, Spike. I can’t let that happen. I just, I can’t afford to make any mistakes here. Because if I pull the wrong move, if I’m not delicate enough, then... Then I really do risk losing him forever...”

For Twilight, being insufficiently prepared to face a problem, no matter what form it took, was nothing short of unacceptable. You couldn’t jump headfirst into the battlefield without knowing about the enemy first. When it came to familial divides, it wasn’t all too different; the metaphor stood true.

Luckily, she had many textbooks about sociology, psychotraumatology, neuronal behaviors, ponythropology... Heck, she even had a couple of manuals about anger management. Surely, something in her nigh infinite inventory would hold the solution to settle this decades-long dispute? All she needed to do was to find the right paragraph, the right string of text that would jump start her journey into untangling this mess of a puzzle.

And to achieve that, for sure she’ll need a few days alone. Not only to cope with the gravity of the situation, but to benefit from a quiet environment where no distraction shall pull her away from her studies. She had a lot of cud to chew; being forced to partake in cwazy misadventures was a no go.

In Ponyville, it was well-known: Trouble had this weird tendency of following anypony who dared to poke their snout out of their house. The obvious countermeasure was to stay inside, lock the door, and throw away the keys. Something that sounded deliciously appealing for the princess of friendship. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked by anything of lesser importance, for she had a brother to reconcile with, and that, that absolutely trumped anything and everything else. Ponies outside these crystalline walls will just have to learn to function with one of their princesses indisposed in the meantime.

It’ll take time that it’ll take. Be it days, weeks, or heck, even months. Until then? It was book time. A time of solitude to give her the guidance she desperately needed. The path to recovery may be a rough and long one, but it was nothing she couldn’t undertake.

She wanted to fix this?

She was going to fix this.

She was going to fix this the right way.

Author's Note

After the house burning incident of last chapter, we slow things down a little bit with this one.

Now, in the comments section of last chapter, I said that I was going to flesh out Skybrush’s backstory a bit more in the flashback portion of this one. In the end, I decided to save it for the next chapter instead. Felt more appropriate this way.

In fact, the next chapter is going to be one I didn’t plan in my original draft of this story. In it, Skybrush will play a bigger role, all in the hopes of painting her in a more sympathetic light. Heh, get it? Skybrush? Painting?

... Please, never let me do stand-up comedy.

Naw, for real though, there is indeed going to be an extra chapter slotted into this fic. At first, there was supposed to be three chapters left (minus the epilogue), but now, we’re back to four. There are two reasons why I took this decision.

The first one is to appease some of the concerns that arose with some discontent readers after the last chapter. I am immensely glad you guys pushed back, because it made me realize that I could’ve handled certain plot points with a little more tact. You also correctly pointed out that certain ideas felt rushed and too sudden. Thus, correcting course is what I am hoping to achieve with this extra, unplanned chapter.

The second reason is that it’ll allow me to tackle a few loose ends. In fact, in the final chapter of this story, there will be a few events I just know I’ll have trouble explaining properly. This new chapter will give me the soil to sow these ideas and make them appear more grounded, more believable when they’ll inevitably flourish.

So, all in all, I believe for this decision to be a good thing. It’ll totally work to the benefit of Oxidized!

Now, of course, this’ll increase the story length quite a bit. Luckily, I am not expecting this impromptu chapter to be very long. Theeeeen again, I say that every time, so, y’know, take it as you will.

Oh, and as a final note, I decided to add Spike as a character tag for this story. This lil’ dude is taking more space than I had originally planned, so it only seems fair. Welcome aboard, Spikey-boy!