Redemption Is Worth Fighting For
Twilight Sparkle’s steps echoed loudly in the crystal hallway.
Dinnertime was fast approaching on her way to the kitchens - kitchens that needed a thorough cleaning before she and Spike could even get started. Despite how well her talk with Starlight had gone earlier, the castle was admittedly worse for wear after the day’s events.
Speaking of her student, Twilight wasn’t entirely sure what happened. Starlight had been doing so well recently; she was getting better with each passing day, both at friendship and at being a good pony. Twilight was proud of her progress, and made sure Starlight knew that.
So why did she think mind control was an acceptable way to complete her lessons? Was it a fear of disappointing her teacher? Was it an attempt to impress her teacher? Twilight heavily doubted it was an actual return to evil, and yet, she couldn’t figure it out.
Regardless of Starlight’s motives, she had still realized that her actions were wrong. After their talk in the library, Starlight had requested space and had promised she would apologize to the girls the very next morning, as soon as the worst of the spell’s after-effects wore off.
Starlight had learnt her lesson, she’d apologize the next day and the girls would forgive her. Everything was fine.
Twilight’s train of thought, and the silence in the hallway, was interrupted by a small sound coming from behind. She turned around, belatedly realizing she had passed her student’s room.
Starlight was crying. Muffled though it was by the heavy oak door, but she was definitely crying.
Why, though? Twilight was sure the crying was due to the day’s events, but that confused her even more. Starlight was bound to feel a little guilty, yes, but Twilight thought she had gotten over it. The situation had been resolved and everything was fine.
And yet, the crying told a different story.
Twilight raised her hoof and hesitated. Starlight had asked for space earlier, not to mention the amount of tasks she had to get done. Was it really a good idea to step over her student’s boundaries?
The crying intensified, and Twilight stopped hesitating.
The castle can wait. My friend is more important.
She gently knocked on the door. At once, the crying ceased, and she took it as a sign that she had been heard. “Starlight?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and slow. “May I come in?”
Her ears flicked at the distinct sound of a groan coming from the room. She frowned slightly, then shrugged as she nodded to herself. “Iʼll take that as a yes.”
Magenta magic enveloped the doorknob on both sides, and the door opened with a quiet creak. Twilight slowly stepped in, keeping her eyes firmly on her student, and closed the door with a soft click.
Starlight Glimmer lay in bed, her head buried deep in a pillow, and gave no indication that she had heard somepony enter.
Twilight approached the bed slowly. “Hey, Starlight,” she said, keeping her voice low. “How are you doing?”
Starlight said something, but it was completely muffled by her pillow.
Twilight frowned. “I didn’t quite get that.”
Starlight’s head whipped up faster than Twilight could blink. “I failed, Twilight!” she shouted, her voice piercing the quiet of the room. The harsh tone — uncomfortably similar to past breakdowns — made Twilight instinctively flinch.
Starlight didn’t notice. “I failed redemption! I failed friendship! I failed you!” Her voice cracked at that last word, and her head went down again. “I failed,” she repeated, her previous anger gone, replaced instead with sorrow. “I just failed…” She buried her face in her pillow again and the sobs continued.
If Twilight hadn’t been confused before, she definitely was now.
Failed? Why did Starlight think that? Sure, what she had done was wrong and morally reprehensible, but she eventually realized her mistake and vowed to apologize. Today was nothing more than a fluke. By no means had she failed at anything. That didn’t make any sense.
Keeping quiet was getting her nowhere, though. “What do you mean?” Twilight asked.
Starlight looked up at her again and, for the first time since she’d entered the room, Twilight got a good look at her student’s face - at those bloodshot eyes that stared back at her, glistening with tears that threatened to stain her already-matted cheeks.
“Get real, Twilight,” Starlight snarled, her voice raspy. “You told me to bake a cake, and the second I was left alone, I violated your friends’ minds!” She got off the bed and got closer to Twilight.
“I haven’t changed. I still think magic is the solution to everything.” The closer Starlight got to her, the more Twilight had to resist the urge to flee. “I’m still doing the same things I did back when I was evil!”
Starlight’s voice went up a few octaves. “Your efforts are pointless! I’m not becoming a good pony!” She stopped moving.
“I’m getting worse!”
She slammed her hooves hard on the floor, cracking the stone with an audible crunch, with her horn letting out a few teal sparks.
And just as abruptly as the anger had appeared, it evaporated. Her energy spent, Starlight collapsed on the floor and buried her face in her hooves. “So much for being reformed,” she whispered, before the tears fell anew.
The succeeding silence stretched on for eternity. Twilight used it to mull on her thoughts while allowing her student to run out of steam.
For her, the mind control was nothing more than a screw up. A major screw up, definitely, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with time and a good apology. She’d had plenty of fiascos to her own name, after all. It had never occurred to her that for Starlight — a pony in the process of redemption — the mind control was a relapse. To Starlight, it signified going back to the way she used to be. The events of that day had completely shattered her self-esteem.
It would be a miracle if Starlight Glimmer ever trusted herself ever again.
Eventually, the sobbing subsided to a quiet sniffing. She lifted her head, but kept her ears flat and eyes down.
Twilight approached her student and sat down next to her, running a gentle hoof through Starlight’s mane.
“Oh, Starlight.” Twilight spoke in a soft, gentle tone. “You haven’t failed. You had just had a relapse, that’s all. Happens to the best of us. It’s not a failure.”
Starlight sniffed. “Sure feels like it.”
In spite of herself, Twilight smiled a little, deciding to go for a different approach. “You know,” she started, her tone teasing, “–you’re not the first friend of mine who has screwed up real bad on the path to redemption.”
Starlight finally raised her head and met her mentor’s eyes. She tilted her head, confusion in her face. “I’m not?”
Twilight shook her head. “Nope.” She withdrew her hoof from Starlight’s mane and shifted herself to a more comfortable position. “A few months ago, there was an incident involving Luna and her past–”
“Luna?” Starlight interrupted. “As in Princess Luna?”
Twilight nodded.
“You’re friends with Princess Luna?!” Starlight asked again, incredulous.
Twilight nodded and smiled. “A few months ago, we discovered that she had crippling self-guilt issues from her past actions as Nightmare Moon.” Reminder to self: introduce Starlight to the rest of my friends.
Starlight’s ears went flat again. “I know first-hoof what that feels like.”
Twilight continued. “She believed she had not been punished enough for all the harm she’d done. In her attempt to rectify this, she created a monster. An actual, literal monster.”
Starlight’s eyes widened.
“Its purpose was to give her the same nightmare every night. It fed off of Luna’s guilt, and the more guilty she felt, the more powerful it got.
“There came a point when the monster escaped her dream and entered the minds of all Ponyvillians.” Twilight paused and met Starlight’s eyes. Her tone grew colder and darker. “Luna’s creation gained so much power it nearly escaped into the waking world.”
Starlight’s pupils shrunk and her mouth hung slightly agape. “R-really?”
Twilight nodded grimly. “Yes.” She sighed wistfully, Luna’s anguished confession echoing faintly in her mind. “Today, she’s beloved by all. Everypony forgave her for it.”
Starlight wasn’t convinced. She kept glancing between Twilight and the floor, seemingly debating whether Luna’s experience could apply to her. She eventually settled for a scoff. “Of course they did. She’s Princess Luna.”
Twilight resisted the urge to slap her forehead. Instead, she decided to continue. “There was also an episode involving Discord recently–”
“You’re friends with the Spirit of Chaos?”
“I am now. I wasn’t always.” A sigh escaped Twilight as she recalled the days of Tirek’s attack. “Back in the early days of his reformation, he had a relapse so huge it nearly caused the end of Equestria as we knew it.”
Starlight remained silent and Twilight took it as a sign to continue.
“Are you familiar with Tirek’s attack on the ponies?”
A nod of confirmation.
“Did you also know that it was Discord, supposedly reformed, who betrayed Equestria and gave him the means to take over?”
“And you all forgave him for that?” Starlight asked, confusion evident in her voice.
Twilight shrugged. “To be fair, he was also the key to Tirek’s defeat. The event also triggered his redemption for real.”
“I see,” Starlight said.
Both anecdotes had clearly not convinced Starlight of anything.
Twilight decided to try it one more time. “I have this other friend. She and I are cross-dimensional pen pals and she’s really similar to you, in a lot of ways.” Twilight nudged Starlight playfully, prompting a small smile from the latter. “You’d get along great.”
Reminder to self: set up meeting between Starlight and Sunset.
“She used to be a villain, too, you know,” she continued, “and according to our mutual friends, the early days of her reformation were really hard.” She chuckled wryly. “She has a bit of a temper. Her habit of exploding when her plans go awry didnʼt disappear after she turned over a new leaf.”
Starlight raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that my habit of impulsively using magic is a good thing?” Her tone bordered on accusing.
Her mentor gently shook her head. “Not at all. I’m just saying that it’s perfectly normal if the habits you had in the past haven’t disappeared overnight. These things take time.”
Starlight chewed her lip. “I see.” After a momentary pause, she turned back to Twilight. “So your friends are all okay now?”
Twilight nodded. “These days, they are all fully and completely reformed. I trust them with my life.” She smiled — it was a proud smile, the kind that radiated immense joy. “They haven’t let me down.” She directed the smile to her student. “The point is that one relapse isn’t the end of the world.
“You haven’t failed your studies, Starlight, and you haven’t failed me.”
Starlight broke eye contact and stared at the ground, her ears going flat against her skull. “But you said…” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You said you were disappointed.”
Twilight shifted closer to her student and wrapped her in a comforting wing. “I was.” She kept her voice even, yet warm and friendly. “But by no means does that mean you failed.”
Starlight sighed heavily and kept her gaze firmly down.
Okay, Twilight thought resolutely. Time for Plan B.
She withdrew her wing and abruptly stood up. The sudden movement snapped Starlight out of her trance and forced her to look up. Twilight extended her hoof and flicked her eyes towards the bed.
Hesitantly, Starlight took the proffered hoof and allowed Twilight to hoist her up. The two walked towards the bed and Starlight plopped on it. Twilight laid down next to her and resumed her wing-hug.
“Let me tell you a story.”
The sudden change of topic caused Starlight to lift her head. Her expression was unreadable, but, at the very least, it no longer looked forlorn.
“Once upon a time, there was a unicorn who loved magic more than anything in the world. Her raw power was unparalleled, but wild and uncontrolled.” Twilight smiled coyly and teasingly bumped Starlight. “Despite that, she was made the personal student of an alicorn princess.”
Starlight chuckled dryly. “Can’t tell if you’re talking about me or you.”
Twilight shook her head wryly. “As hard as it might be to believe, there were times when even my mentor was disappointed in me.”
Starlight’s previous mirth evaporated, replaced instead by disbelief. “That’s nonsense, Twilight,” she scoffed, waving her hoof dismissively. “You’re the definition of a perfect student. Celestia’s pride and joy.”
Hundreds of memories flashed through Twilight’s mind in an instant - the parasprite incident, her brother’s wedding, her first Winter Wrap-Up, the time loop episode. In fact, her career as Celestia’s student had begun with an uncontrollable burst of magic. But among all those incidents, one stood out.
She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. She didn’t like talking about it, but for Starlight’s sake, she knew she had to.
“On the whole, yes, Celestia is proud of me,” she began. “But there was one particular instance early in my Ponyville life where I thought I had failed her.
“Back when I first moved to Ponyville, I was given a task by my teacher: every week, I had to write a report to her on something new I learned about friendship.” She snorted. “Key word being ‘every week’.”
For the first time since their conversation started, Twilight broke eye contact. “There was a week where I… where I missed the deadline.”
She sighed. Her voice, which had previously been even and calm, shook. “I lost my mind, Starlight. Completely.” She rolled her eyes. “For some crazy reason, I was afraid that if I didn’t submit my assignment on time, I would fail my studies and Celestia would demote me back to magic kindergarten.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Starlight deadpanned.
“That’s what Spike said!” Twilight near-shouted, as painful, buried memories crawled back to the surface. “But I was too caught up in my own head to listen.
“I spent the entire day running around, trying to find any conceivable friendship problem to write about.”
Her entire body slumped and she blinked away the tears she knew were coming. “When I couldn’t find any,” she continued, slower than before, “I decided…” She trailed off, unsure on how to continue. “I decided to create one.”
She raised her gaze just in time to witness her student’s reaction — a small gasp and widened eyes.
She continued her story, determined to see it through. “There was this doll I used as a filly – a comfort item I brought when I moved here.
“That day, I brought the doll out to town, intending to instigate a fight over it. It didn’t work.”
Starlight continued to listen quietly, her ears alert with rapt attention.
“I ended up casting a spell on it,” Twilight resumed with a heavy sigh. “‘Want-It, Need-It’ spell, you might have heard of it. Its intended purpose is to enchant an item and make it irresistible. The moment somepony lays their eyes on it, that item becomes their only purpose.”
Starlight, who up until now had been quiet, snorted loudly. “Yeah, right, that sounds like mind control,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Twilight didn’t answer and refused to even meet Starlight’s eyes. Her ears went flat and she fought hard against the tears threatening to spill.
“...Twilight?” Starlight asked quietly, sounding almost fearful.
“I poured far too much power in the spell.” Twilight’s voice was lower than ever before. She kept her gaze down, her shoulders trembling slightly. “The fillies I was talking to were instantly smitten, and so was anypony who so much as glanced at the doll.”
The tears finally broke free. They fell in a steady stream, dampening her cheeks and choking up her voice. “It took minutes, Starlight. Ponies were fighting on the streets, foals were at each other’s throats. Swears and yells were everywhere as everypony scrambled to get their hooves on the cursed doll.” She sniffed. “There had been damage, and I realized it far too late.”
“Couldn’t you… undo the spell?” Starlight hesitantly asked.
“I couldn’t!” Twilight’s head whipped up and her words came out harsher than she intended. “I needed a clear shot of the doll to do that, but since I basically brainwashed everypony into wanting it…”
Starlight was not good at comfort, a fact both mares in the room knew. Despite that, she made an effort to give her teacher a comforting, if a little awkward, pat on the shoulder.
That small gesture was enough to lift Twilight’s spirits. She sat up straighter, wiped away her few remaining tears and looked her student in the eye.
“Eventually, Celestia herself came by to fix my mess,” she continued, her voice regaining its previous steady cadence. “It took all of one second, of course, and then she harshly, coldly summoned me to the library.
“She wasn’t mad at me, you know. No, it was far worse. She was disappointed. Up until that point, I had been her stellar student with not a single blemish to her name.” Another heavy sigh. “And then, I went ahead and thought mind control was an acceptable way to impress her.”
Starlight laughed. It was a bitter laugh, laced with self-loathing, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “I know first-hoof what that feels like.”
Her sadness gone, Twilight’s voice returned to its previous state – warm, friendly and soothing. “Celestia didn’t give up on me, though.” She resumed her wing-hug, wrapping Starlight tighter than before. “The incident was a learning experience. An opportunity to grow and be better.”
Twilight telekinetically drew the curtains on the nearby window, bathing the room in soft silver moonlight. “Redemption, like friendship, is not a linear path. There will be days where you meet every challenge with a smile, and days where you want to curl up in your room and never come out.”
Starlight was quiet and Twilight could see the inner battle behind her eyes as she considered her mentor’s words.
“But at the end of the day, Starlight, you keep learning,” Twilight continued. “You apologize, promise to never do it again and move on.”
She lifted her student’s chin and two pairs of amethysts locked with one another. “And I swear,” she continued, “that no matter what happens, I will be with you every step of the way.”
Starlight threw her hooves around her mentor and held her for dear life. The gesture was returned, a pair of warm wings wrapping around her, as fresh tears matted her mentor’s shoulders.
She sniffed. “Your friends are still mad at me, though.”
“Our friends,” Twilight corrected. “And yes, they are.” They pulled away, but remained close. “But they won’t always be. They’ll forgive you; it’s what friends do.”
Starlight wiped away the last of her tears. “Thanks, Twilight.”
Twilight smiled. “Anytime.”
A momentary, yet comfortable, silence passed. After a few seconds, she hopped off the bed and made her way to the door.
“If you’ll excuse me, Spike and I need to get started on dinner.” Twilight paused in the doorway, turning to look back at Starlight and giving her an encouraging smile. “I do hope you’ll join us.”
Starlight was out of her room before Twilight had a chance to close the door. As her student passed by her, the initial expression of surprise she had melted into a warm smile.
Together, student and teacher trotted down the hallway, their spirited chatter chasing away the eerie silence.
Author's Note
Based on: Friendship is Magic, Season 6, Episode 21, “Every Little Thing She Does”
