Killing Time

A crack rent the still air deep within the Everfree Forest, sending startled birds crying into the sky, and Twilight Sparkle stood in what had been an empty clearing but a moment ago.

As her magic faded, dissipating into the ether, she surveyed her surroundings, not just with her eyes but with other senses as well, and was satisfied—and a touch relieved—to find herself alone. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, taking a brief moment to savor the Everfree and her success.

She was here. She had done it. And no one would witness what came next.

With a flick of her horn, she drew items from the satchel slung between her wings: a common traveler’s cloak and a notebook. The cloak was sized to fit a more modest mare, much too small for a fully grown alicorn’s frame. She draped it over a convenient boulder jutting out from the ground at an oblique angle and turned to the notebook.

She paged past the inscription on the inside front cover—for my beloved Twilight—and found the notes she was looking for. Pointless, perhaps, as she’d practiced this particular spell in private back home enough times that she should be able to cast and maintain it with barely a conscious thought, but reviewing the mana matrices now that the time had come felt reassuring.

Her eyes fell shut as she concentrated, and when she opened them again the cloak fit her perfectly.

It had rained recently, and she leaned over a puddle to survey the reflection of her handiwork.

Completely unrecognizable. A bland beige earth pony mare looked back up at her, with brown eyes and brown mane. Wearing the dull gray cloak made her not just unrecognizable but completely forgettable: a passerby with no distinguishing features to draw attention or linger in an observer’s memory.

She smiled, tucked her notebook away, and set off into the forest.

Fluttershy’s cottage lay just beyond the border of the Everfree, and for the first time Twilight wondered if she was making a mistake.

Standing in the shadows of the trees and looking out at the cozy homestead, she very nearly couldn’t believe her eyes. It was exactly as she remembered it. Maybe that’s all it should remain—a memory. Maybe it was a mistake to try and experience this again.

She stepped out of the trees and walked up the pathway to the front door. She could hear movement inside. The murmur of a voice. She knocked.

The voice died in an instant and she stifled a smile. A few hesitant hoofsteps later and the door opened a crack, revealing a luminous teal eye half-hidden behind a cascade of pink mane.

Twilight let the smile return, a full, kind, disarming smile, and spoke: “Hello! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I wanted to ask if I’m in the right place. Is this the way to Ponyville?”

Her voice was not her own. It was the voice of a bland, beige earth pony with brown eyes and brown mane. Completely friendly and completely uninteresting.

The door opened a little wider. “Oh? Oh. Um, yes, you’re very near Ponyville.” Twilight could see both eyes now, and watched as they looked her up and down, taking her in. “Have you traveled far?”

Twilight grinned. “You have no idea.”

Fluttershy carefully placed the tea set on the low table before the sofa and reached for the sugar.

“You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Twilight said.

“It’s no trouble,” Fluttershy said. “Goodness knows when I’ve been on a long journey I appreciate a chance to rest my weary hooves. One lump or two?”

“Just one, please.”

“Cream?”

“No, thank you.”

They sipped their tea and Twilight looked around, drinking Fluttershy’s sitting room in more deeply than the darjeeling.

There really was no better word for it than cozy, and no sooner did she have the thought than a profound wave of homesickness crashed over her, catching her completely unawares, and she set her teacup and saucer down on the table with a loud clink.

Fluttershy’s eyes darted to her over her own teacup. “Wheatgerm? Are you all right?”

“I—” Twilight swallowed and took a deep breath. “Yes. For a moment there—” She pivoted. “Well, you’ve been so kind to me despite me being a stranger fresh off the road, and it’s been quite a long time since anyone’s shown me such kindness.”

Fluttershy set her own teacup and saucer down, more gently. “That’s a shame. I’m sorry to hear that’s been your experience. Kindness really is free, after all, and I wish more ponies would see that and practice it.” She looked surprised then. “You know, you say we’re strangers but I feel so comfortable talking with you. I feel almost as though I’ve known you for years. Isn’t that strange?”

They looked at each other, a contented smile on Fluttershy’s face, an inquisitive one on Twilight’s. She can’t possibly know, can she? Twilight searched her friend’s eyes. Angel Bunny peered at her suspiciously from over Fluttershy’s shoulder.

Fluttershy shrugged and picked her tea back up. “Oh well. Whatever it is, you seem like a very nice pony, and I’m so glad you happened to knock on my door this afternoon.”

Twilight smiled back at her and reached for her own tea. “So am I.”

At length, Twilight made her excuses and Fluttershy saw her to the door. “You’re welcome back any time, you know. If you should ever visit Ponyville again.” They both looked down and watched Angel Bunny creep forward, sniff Twilight’s leg, then stare up at her mistrustfully before retreating to the safety of Fluttershy’s long flowing tail. “He’d probably warm up to you. Eventually.”

Privately, Twilight wondered if that were so. It wouldn’t surprise her if her glamour, advanced as it was, couldn’t quite fool all animal senses.

“I truly appreciate your hospitality, Fluttershy.” Her breath caught in her throat then, just for a moment. “More than you could know.”

She watched Fluttershy misunderstand the hitch in her voice and allowed the misunderstanding to happen. “You poor dear. I’m sure you’ll encounter more kindness in your journeys.” The pegasus reached out and drew her into a hug.

None like yours, Twilight thought, pressing her face into her friend’s mane.

Fluttershy had given her directions into town, and Twilight had dutifully pretended like she’d almost known the way but been just a little unsure about the finer points of the route.

As soon as she was out of sight of the cottage, though, she broke into a detour, looping south around the town’s outskirts. She replayed her time with Fluttershy in her mind’s eye.

The experience had ended, and was already just a memory. Had there been a point to it in the end, really? Now it was just one more memory, alongside all the others she already had of her kindest friend.

Yes, she decided as she approached a fenceline guarding the best apple trees this side of Canterlot. It had been worth it.

She didn’t need to knock on the door this time. Her friend was outside, inspecting the apple trees. When she cleared her throat, her friend turned to inspect her instead.

“Hello,” Twilight said, and decided the simplest thing to do was reuse a tried and true gambit. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but is this the way to Ponyville?”

Applejack looked her up and down, then squinted off into the distance and pushed her hat up on her forehead. “Well, you’re mighty close. Must have taken a wrong turn back at Sugar Creek Junction is all. But if you were to turn yourself around and head right back the way you came, then hang a left at the big tree stump and cross the footbridge, you’ll find yourself right smack dab in the middle o’ Ponyville in just a few minutes.”

She smiled and nodded at Twilight, who smiled and nodded back. “Thank you very much for your help, Miss…?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Name’s Applejack.” She stepped forward and held out a hoof. “Pleased ta meetcha.”

Twilight shook it. “Wheatgerm.” She half-turned and surveyed the orchard. “Your trees are lovely.”

The farmpony beamed. “They surely are. These here are the finest apple trees this side of Canterlot. My pride and joy, if’n you must know. I tell you what, Wheatgerm, when was the last time you had a good apple? I mean a real, honest-to-sunshine apple?”

“It feels like it’s been a lifetime.”

“You’re darn tootin’ it does, because it has been, because I’d wager you’ve never had an Apple family apple.” Applejack squinted up into the closest tree, turned and backed up to it, then reared and bucked, and the impact against the trunk dislodged a single ruby-red apple. She caught it in her hat and offered it to Twilight. “On the house.”

Twilight carefully reached in, her hoof brushing against the rough, sweat-stained material of her friend’s beloved hat, and took out the apple.

It was perfect, just as in her memory.

She took a bite.

Perfect.

Applejack looked on, nodding approvingly. “I could ask you to give it the compliment it’s due but there’s no need. I can see the compliment right on your face.”

Twilight sniffed, and took another bite.

Approval became mild alarm. “Ah, Wheatgerm? Are you—”

Twilight shut her eyes and took another bite as a tear escaped and trailed gently down her cheek. She chewed, and savored, and swallowed.

“Wheatgerm, honey, I… look, I know I was talkin’ them up, I know they’re real good, but I don’t know that they’re worth all that. Are you all right?”

The last bite. She chewed and swallowed and it was gone. She opened her eyes and looked at the apple core perched on her hoof, and beyond, where Applejack worried at her hat.

“Wheatgerm?”

Twilight swallowed again and looked up. “Thank you, Applejack. You were right. That was a very good apple.” She smiled, and Applejack smiled back uncertainly.

“What can I say, they don’t grow them like they used ta anywhere else.”

“They really don’t,” Twilight agreed.

She paused only briefly at the big stump, to eat the second apple Applejack had given her for the road, and to break down and sob.

Before crossing the footbridge she stopped to wash her face in the creek. It was slow moving, but fast enough to distort her reflection. As the water dripped from her face, she looked down at the beige and brown shape rippling below her, then shook herself and turned to walk into town.

Here, too, was just as she remembered. Thatched roofs, pink trim, nearly all earth ponies with a smattering of unicorns and pegasi. Fillies and colts playing in the park. A bright pink mare hanging directly in front of her—

She yelped and Pinkie Pie stood before her, smiling with her head cocked to the side. “Ohmigosh! You must be new here! I’m Pinkie Pie and this is Ponyville!”

Twilight tried to catch her breath enough to answer, but before she could Pinkie’s face changed. Her brow furrowed and she leaned closer.

“You’re new here… right?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes! Yes, I’m new here. I’m just a visitor from out of town. Just passing through.”

Pinkie Pie looked her up and down, her eyes slightly narrowed. “I… guess… that makes sense. Just passing through?”

Twilight gulped. Carefully, discreetly. So Pinkie couldn’t see. She hoped. “Yep! Just passing through.”

Pinkie Pie looked at her. Twilight felt sweat beading on the nape of her neck. Maybe this was the mistake. She should have known better than to push her lu—

“Aw, but that means I can’t throw you a party! I throw Welcome To Ponyville parties for all the new ponies here but only if they’re here here!” Pinkie Pie was suddenly hopping in a circle around Twilight, her mane bouncing like a pink balloon, and Twilight blinked reflexively. “Just passing through isn’t here here I don’t think! I’m pretty sure anyway! Maybe I should start throwing ponies just passing through Welcome To Ponyville If Only For A Brief Time parties! Hey, maybe that would convince them to stay longer so we could be frie—”

“Pinkie Pie!” shouted a voice from above. Pinkie froze in mid hop and looked up. Twilight did too. She recognized that voice.

“There you are. You just disappeared on me! How d’you do that, anyway?” Rainbow Dash said as she flared her wings to kill her velocity. She hovered next to them, shaking her head at Pinkie Pie.

“But Dashie! I had to come meet Wheatgerm!”

“Who?” Rainbow looked over and started when she made eye contact with Twilight, falling the last short distance to the ground and struggling to keep her balance. “Whoa, sorry, Wheat, didn’t see you there. You really kinda blend into the background, you know?”

Twilight grinned reluctantly. “I get that a lot.”

“Not really my style, but hey, if it works for you. Welcome to Ponyville? Or, uh, have you been here long and I’ve just never noticed you.” Rainbow managed to look contrite.

“Ah, no, as I was telling Pinkie—”

“Just passing through!” Pinkie Pie said.

“Phew, yeah, okay, that makes sense. Well hey, listen, Sweetberm, I was in the middle of practice and Pinkie Pie was watching me, so we’ve gotta get back to it.”

“Yeah! It’s super-duper fun. Hey! You could come watch too!” Pinkie was now hopping in circles around Rainbow Dash.

Twilight was positive that she needed to do absolutely everything possible to avoid spending even one more minute in Pinkie Pie’s presence.

“I appreciate the offer, but I really should get going. It was nice to meet you both.”

Pinkie Pie was eyeing her speculatively again. Twilight felt sweat prickling the nape of her neck again. She offered Pinkie a brief smile before focusing on Rainbow Dash. The sun was really beating down hard on her mane.

Rainbow, oblivious, said, “Yeah, whatever. C’mon, Pinks, let’s go. I’m not gonna pull this off without my best cheerleader!”

Pinkie Pie finally tore her eyes away from Twilight to beam admiringly at Rainbow. “Okie dokie lokie! Nice to meet you…” She turned back to Twilight, the faintest air of puzzlement clouding her features. “...Wheatgerm.”

Twilight smiled, nodded, and bolted.

Rainbow watched her go. “What a weirdo.”

When Twilight stepped inside, her heart rate—still elevated from her close encounter with Pinkie Pie—immediately began to slow. A sense of peace and belonging fell over her, draped around her like the most luxurious blanket.

She was home.

The door to the library swung gently shut behind her, and she paused to soak it in. Light filtered down through the windows set high into the walls, rough-hewn from the gigantic oak tree Ponyville’s library occupied. Shelves upon shelves had been carved from those walls, and—blessedly—been filled to the brim with books.

There were larger libraries in the world. There were more specialized libraries in the world, libraries that contained the most arcane secrets and unimaginable knowledge, that relied on stasis spells and environmental control spells to protect the unique, one-of-a-kind tomes that lived there. She had visited them all. Founded a couple of them.

None of them held a candle to Golden Oak Library in Ponyville.

She moved forward and let her eyes rove the shelves, let her nose take in the wonderful faint mustiness that permeated the still air. She trailed a hoof over the spines, feeling each and every scuff and crease and embossing.

She reached a particular favorite and pulled it from the shelf and opened it and it fell open naturally to a favorite passage, as though she had just been reading it yesterday, and she smiled.

“Spike? Spike!” she called. “Where are you?”

But she hadn’t spoken. Twilight closed her eyes and nodded to herself, and as she reached to place the book back on its shelf she walked into the room.

“Spike, I—oh! Hello! I’m sorry about that, I heard something and thought it was my assistant.”

Twilight finished reshelving her book and turned to face Twilight.

“I completely understand,” she said. “It’s no problem.”

“Welcome to the library,” she said. “I don’t think we’ve met? I’d thought I’d met all the ponies here by now. I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Twilight,” said Twilight. “And no, I’m just a traveler. Just passing through.”

“Ah, of course,” said Twilight, eyeing her cloak. “I should have guessed. Welcome to Ponyville! Can I help you find anything? Are you staying long? I haven’t had anyone from out of town try to check out a book yet,” she mused. “I’m not sure that’s allowed.”

Twilight raised a hoof. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I’m not staying here long enough to check anything out. I just wanted to stop in and see the library while I was here. I love libraries, don’t you?”

Twilight beamed and nodded. “Yes! Libraries are wonderful. I’ve only been here a few months, but I have to say…” She looked around the room. “I feel so extraordinarily lucky that I get to live here. My bedroom is right upstairs. A live-in librarian, isn’t that something? We didn’t have those in Canterlot.”

The alicorn disguised as an earth pony watched the unicorn take in her new home, eyes shining with joy and belonging, and her eyes welled up.

“I’m jealous,” she said, smiling and blinking the tears away before Twilight could notice them. “I’ve visited a lot of places and that’s a rare setup. You’re very lucky.”

“I am, aren’t I?” said Twilight. “I really am.” She smiled to herself, still looking around her home, and then a brief look of panic washed over her face and she snapped back to Twilight. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! This has been very unprofessional of me.” She cleared her throat and straightened up. “So, not checking anything out, but can I help you find anything in particular while you’re here?”

“No,” said Twilight, shaking her head. “It’s been wonderful to spend a little time here, but I really should be moving on.” She headed for the door, but stopped as she drew abreast of Twilight. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“You really are lucky. Please don’t take it for granted.”

“I won’t,” Twilight said seriously. She blinked and looked at Twilight then, but Twilight was already at the door.

“Say hi to Spike for me,” Twilight said.

“Okay,” Twilight said, and as the door closed behind her Twilight caught sight of the frown crossing Twilight’s face as she turned to watch herself go.

One last stop to make.