Twilight Sparkle had countless terrible days in her seventeen long years of painstaking life.

She could recall every single one of them, too; this was a trait her therapist referred to as ‘startlingly neurotic’ and apparently a contributor to her chronic stress, or whatever. Twilight thought it just meant her episodic recall was flawless.

What did therapists even know?

Psh. Social sciences.

The day had begun tamely enough in AP chemistry.

Possessing a notoriously weak poker face, Kasparov embodies the board as if they are one and the same. His expressions as clear as the black and white tiles, and his moves mirror his intention with an earnestness that could be misconstrued as naivety by someone with foolish notions about to be proven disastrously wrong.

Twilight’s eyes gave the blackboard at the front of the classroom another cursory glance, as they were prone to at least once every few minutes to ensure she wasn’t missing anything.

Hah. That would certainly be novel; Twilight had already covered the entirety of this year’s chemistry syllabus in her pre-term reading and went over it again twice in her pre-pre-term reading. She was the student that kept pop quizzes up at night.

Though of course, she wasn’t so arrogant as to insist she could flawlessly recite just about every piece of information any science teacher could present to her regardless of context, but - come on. You’d have to be pretty ignorant of the academic standing of your peers to assume she wasn’t, at the very least, a standout amongst this particular lot.

There was them, and then there was her. If being called a nerdy freak meant being the best, then so be it.

Despite the cynicism towards her classmates, Twilight was still an ardent pledge to the typical poindexter’s tradition of respecting your teacher, so she still vowed to pay attention to the lesson. Even fleetingly during her sneaky book-reading.

Just because the class was full of philistines who dealt more weight to frivolities like smartphone-based entertainment and vaping and- and…social engagements, didn’t mean that the time Ms Cheerilee spent drawing up atoms and formulas shouldn’t be honored.

Twilight looked back down at her book, shielded from Ms Cheerilee’s eyeline by a carefully constructed barricade consisting of a pencil case, a water bottle, and the power plugs protruding from the desk to which bunsen burners would soon be connected for the class practical.

One could wonder if Veselin Topalov observed Garry Kasparov's expressions on that fateful day in 1999 as intricately as the board, trying to foresee his thoughts through the twitches in his brow, and if he had known the terrifying threat his opponent posed when blessed with the ivory army.

Twilight droned out the chatter around her, wishing for the hundredth time that day and quite possibly the trillionth time for her entire academic career that she had true selective hearing to make the task more effective.

Her current reading was way more important than anything going on today, anyway.

College applications required academic portfolios containing a certain level of diversity that Twilight’s rigid schedule…scarcely allowed.

She’d always been confident that filling even her leisure activities with further study would make her a prime candidate for any university, but as her former babysitter and current guidance counselor Cadence had regretfully informed her, colleges these days apparently favored at least some non-academic hobbies or whatever ridiculous phrasing it was.

‘Did things for fun’ was the exact wording Cadence has used to describe the stupid idea.

They wanted hobbies and clubs and extracurriculars uninvolved in actual school stuff, to show a well-rounded character.

Psh.

What wasn’t well-rounded about being the best in every subject? What wasn’t well-rounded about taking on extra independent study in her free time?

She was so well-rounded, in fact, that slanted surfaces made her nervous!

…Very well. She would play their game.

Cadence, though aware of how silly such a suggestion would seem to someone like Twilight after their decade of knowing each other, thought that a sport or some form of art would look best on the application, and maybe even teach something about teamwork or creativity.

But most creative pursuits made her feel juvenile. That’s the itch that reading fiction was supposed to scratch.

And sports were…sweaty. And typically involved spherical objects that could be lobbed at her head by disgruntled opponents and teammates alike.

So arrives the optimal choice!

Chess technically counted as a sport, and games were played one-on-one with an opponent. Move orders could be memorized, and there were so many grandmaster games to pick strategy from. The best players were notorious for logging dozens of their moves from memory prior to even white’s very first move.

It was perfect!

Though Canterlot High didn’t have their own chess team, serendipitously, its sister school Crystal Prep did. As such, the qualifying round for the chess team intended to compete in the national high school tournament was open to students from either school.

Twilight had never played chess before, but after a week of furiously scouring every book on the subject she could get her mitts on, she was confident her extensive opening knowledge and rounds against herself on a practice board would secure her a place.

This book aims to elucidate that monumental game from opportune e4 to crushing resignation on Qa7, when Kasparov undoubtedly became one of the most prevalent modern masters of Chess that future generations would study for strategy as intently as-

“Watch it, Pinkie!”

Suddenly, Twilight was pulled from the delightful trance of reading by a shove against her side, causing her lab stool to rattle to the side. She gripped the table to keep herself upright, then shot a spiteful glare at the offender to her left.

She’d been enjoying an empty table for the past half hour of the lesson, but it appeared that, much to her chagrin, her two table mates were merely late, not mercifully absent.

Great.

Pinka-frickin’-mena Pie and Rainbow ‘competes-professionally-at-asshattery’ Dash. The two shrillest loudmouths in the entire school, nay, the entire district.

Cheerilee cleared her throat. “Miss Pie and Miss Dash. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised to see you two being late. I hope that at least some of your tardiness was spent on coming up with a good excuse.”

Twilight heard Pinkie shoot a quick ‘she can’t call us that word’ to her friend, causing Dash to snort.

“Well?” Cheerilee raised an eyebrow.

“We were with Vice Principal Luna,” Dash quickly said, still smirking, reaching into her pocket to provide a folded up piece of paper. “She wrote you a note.”

Cheerilee strode over, her expression portraying clear doubt in the validity of the girls’ excuse, and took the note. She analyzed it for a few seconds, before letting out a small huff.

“...Very well. Rest assured I will be double-checking after class to verify with the vice principal. And I think you owe someone an apology for crashing into them, Rainbow?”

Pinkie and Dash exchanged glances and snickered, making Twilight’s eye twitch in annoyance at the audacity.

Dash shot Twilight a raised eyebrow, then looked back at Miss Cheerilee, mumbling something incoherent that sounded nothing like sorry.

Whatever, not like Twilight wanted anything from the likes of her.

She’d stashed her book beneath an open textbook in one practiced, clandestine motion when Miss Cheerilee had come closer, and was already itching to get back to it. She habitually sat up straighter when the teacher had approached her desk and didn’t relax until she started to retreat back to the front of the classroom. She’d seemingly done so in a noticeable manner, because from the corner of her eye, she saw Dash point a thumb at her and share a laugh with Pinkie Pie.

Asshat.

She slid the book back from its cove, but before she could get back to it, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Irritated, she turned, only to be met with freakishly wide Gatorade-colored eyes.

“Hey, Twiiiiiilight! Twilight-Twilight—Twilight! Can you be the highlight of daylight?”

Twilight cringed, then went back to her book, hoping that ignoring the neon pink issue would make it go away.

Unfortunately undeterred, the issue kept talking. “Since we missed the first bit of the lesson, mind if me ‘n Dashie borrow your notes?”

“Girls!” Cheerilee snapped from the front. “I assume that the vice principal's note doesn’t extend to chit-chat, so if you’d stop distracting other students who actually want to learn something, I’d appreciate that greatly.”

Twilight couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of smug validation at Pinkie finally clamping her mouth shut, but that joy was incredibly short lived, because she felt another tap against her shoulder.

“I’m not giving you my notes,” Twilight finally whispered back, glaring at the late-comers. “So if you’d quit bothering me, that’d be great.”

Pinkie visibly shrank back.

“If you’re gonna ask anything of egghead-prime you should make sure she gets that stick out of her ass first, Pinks.”

Twilight whipped back around. “Excuse me?” she hissed.

Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “Oh wow, are you actually talking to me? Little Miss AP Prissy? What’s the occasion?”

Twilight appraised her.

Truly, Dash wasn’t worth her time.

Shorter than her by about an inch, but surely at least ten times more intrusive. For some unknown, ungodly reason, they shared far too many classes.

This was nothing if not an enigma; Rainbow Dash was a stereotype of the brainless jock if there ever was one. Maybe those balls she liked to kick about in fields like a baby animal frolicking in a kids book managed to bonk her on the head one too many times and she got lost on the way to remedial classes, or a clerical error had haplessly placed her in Twilight’s path.

Who knows.

In the end, it didn’t matter, because she was annoying and terrible and mean all the same, regardless of how exactly she’d managed to trample her massive eyesore leather boots into Twilight’s schedule.

She never even tried in classes, never even pretended to listen. She bunked off, goofed off, and pissed off every teacher in every class, so what even was the point of her?

Actually, scratch the previous analogy with the baby animals. Rainbow Dash was a big ugly wolf, always snarling and hissing and making crude jokes. Just about the only people she was tolerant to were the teammates in her various silly sports clubs and the posse of colorful characters she’d somehow must have blindsighted to her ghastly personality.

Messy streaked hair, cuffed jean shorts, fishnet socks, rumpled leather bomber jacket… was there any part of her that was tidy?

“Just leave her, Dashie, we’ll just get the textbook,” Pinkie mercifully tried, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Twilight looked at Dash, expecting to see her firing up for another retort, but her line of sight was fixed on the closed cover of the book in front of her. Dash then glanced up at Twilight for a moment, almost thoughtfully, before scoffing. “...Whatever.”

Poor thing, the idea of reading is probably giving her a Vietnam war-level flashback, Twilight thought meanly.

Everything had finally seemed to start to calm down ever since the two latecomers arrived, but their whispering had apparently drawn Cheerilee’s attention once more, because she started to approach the three’s desk with a far-too purposeful stride.

Twilight looked up, once more starting to tuck her chess book beneath the textbook cover.

Cheerilee frowned down at their table.

“Is there a reason you three are the only ones yet to start preparing for the practical?”

Twilight looked around and cursed at herself. Sure enough, she’d missed the scrape of chair legs on linoleum signaling her classmates began preparation for the practical. Stupid Dash! Stupid Pinkie!

She was…she was in trouble?

Gosh, this had never happened before.

“Well?”

“I…uhm…”

“She was just helping us catch up, Miss Cheerilee,” a voice chimed in.

Twilight was aghast to see it belonged to Pinkie.

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, then glanced at the open textbook in front of Twilight. Thankfully, it was turned to the relevant page on calorimetry. Her concentration may have betrayed her, but foresight did not!

The teacher sighed. “Very well. That’s kind of you, Twilight. I’d expect nothing less of you.”

She smiled at Twilight, then, which was a far more expected expression. Teachers loved Twilight.

That was one of the Rules of Normality.

“If you’re done getting up to speed, start to set up your bunsen burners. We’ve already gone over the steps of the practical, but I’m sure Twilight will explain those effectively.”

She said something else about safety rules and the typical lecture on practical protocol, before striding back away to her desk.

Twilight let out a tense breath, then glared at her deskmate.

“I don’t need you to cover for me.”

“Hey, she was doing you a favor. You could at least say thanks,” Dash said, lip curling.

Dash narrowed her eyes as Pinkie Pie grasped the textbook, quickly scanning over it before starting to set up their bunsen burner.

Twilight ignored both of them, instead opting to snatch the bunsen burner from Pinkie and plugging it into the gas tap pointedly.

“Let’s just get on with the stupid practical.”

Headache already forming, Twilight strode to the front of the room to collect the food samples for the test, shrinking slightly when Cheerilee’s eyes fell upon her, cheeks burning.

She slinked back to her table, only to see that Dash and Pinkie were apparently engaged in some childish magic trick demonstration.

“I was gone for literally two minutes! What are you-”

“Is this your card?” Pinkie said mysteriously, producing a king out of seemingly nowhere.

Dash frowned. “When did I pick a card? When did we start playing this game?”

“See? That’s how good I am. I picked the card so hard you forgot you even picked it.”

“Gaslighting isn’t a magic trick, Pinkamena.”

“Gaslighting? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do to the bunsen burner?”

“Urgh! Will you stop mucking about?” Twilight hissed. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, then scowled. Whatever. Whatever! She’d just do this herself. “Don’t touch anything! I’ll just- I’ll let you copy my notes at the end. You two just sit there and try not to screw anything up.”

Dash shrugged. “Works for me.”

Twilight exhaled, then returned to working on the results table. Standard stuff, she’d done this thousands of times before.

The two girls at her side returned to their weird game, graduating to a two-player version that Dash wasn’t completely baffled by.

Twilight briefly felt like a tired babysitter occupying a pair of toddlers with some electronic device, but shook the visual off as she worked through the first two food samples to burn.

This was where everything went wrong.

In retrospect, the toddler analogy was rather fitting.

You’re not supposed to leave toddlers alone in just about any context, which is why Twilight could only blame herself for what happened next.

She’d forgotten the fifth food sample when she’d blanched from Cheerilee’s scrutinizing gaze earlier, and had left the bunsen burner lit at the table with Pinkie and Dash.

With her back to the table, she could practically feel time start to slow with the dawning horror that reared its ugly head as the sound of a confetti popper going off rang out like an angel’s dying cry.

She spun around just in time to see thousands of multi-coloured particles falling into the bunsen burner, before hellfire erupted.

It would have been beautiful, really, had it not been for the screaming and blaring fire alarm as bits of rainbow sparkles sizzled like demonic rain falling from Satan’s maw.

And who sat in the middle of it all?

Pinkie Pie, holding the weapon of mass-destruction in question, with her just-as-guilty companion covering her mouth in horrified amusement as the class started to evacuate, Miss Cheerilee somewhere in the background brandishing a fire extinguisher.

Twilight dropped the tray in terror.

This would…this would be…

She was scared to even think about it.

This meant…detention.

It was worse than a detention.

Twilight stood among the crowd of other qualifiers for the chess tournament, but unlike them, who buzzed with excitement and planned their strategies, she was sick with anxiety, guilt, and maybe a little bit of smoke poisoning.

She’d gotten a phone call home.

The scale of tongue-lashing she received on the car ride over was incomprehensible. Twilight had never seen her mother that bright with rage. Only beaten by the time Shining Armour had borrowed the family car in his senior year of highschool to visit Cadence at her out-of-state college.

There were a few scorched tables to pay for, but at least no one got hurt.

Twilight was just happy that her mother didn’t ground her from attending chess club or retract her offer to drive her.

Right before she was about to get out of the car, Velvet fixed her daughter with a firm stare in the overhead mirror.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I hope that it was just a one-time thing, young lady.”

“I told you, mom! It was those stupid-”

“Have I taught you nothing about taking responsibility?”

“But I-”

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight’s mouth clamped shut and she dropped her head.

“Sorry. Today’s just… not my day, so far.”

Velvet’s gaze softened, and she sighed. “Just… try to have fun at the club today, okay? I didn’t mean to… lecture you so hard, dear.

“I’m just worried that all of this stress about college applications is making you…” she trailed off noncommittally.

Twilight frowned. “What, you’re scared I’m snapping or something? Da Vinci style?”

“A mother worries. You’re just so…I worry you’re too tightly-wound, sweetie. This isn’t even the first time recently that you’ve been… struggling.”

“Last time was those girls too! I swear, I’m starting to dread chemistry. And I’m not tightly-wound, mom, I’m just focused on my goals.”

“And I’m very proud of you for that, but, well, you’re still young, you know? Your grades are good enough to get into just about any college you want.”

“Being a straight-A student doesn’t guarantee anything anymore,” Twilight said, glumly. “There are so many others fighting for the spot that could be mine. So many others have better academic portfolios than me. So many-”

“You’re starting to spiral again, Twily. Remember what-”

Twilight rolled her eyes, then took a dramatically over-the-top deep breath. “I remember what Dr Maneson said.”

“I’m just saying, honey. I’ve never seen a teenager with so many stress ulcers.”

Twilight opened the car door, then flashed her mother a half-hearted smile, not quite willing to be fully mad at her. “I know. But I’ll be fine. This is just par for the course. When I’m top of my field in ten years, I’ll be glad I pushed myself this hard.”

Twilight’s mother had wished her good luck then, but her daughter hadn’t heard, already jogging up the stairs with her backpack hoisted over her shoulders.

So, to recap: Twilight had gotten told off in class, been held wrongly culpable for blowing up part of the lab, got her mother called on her, and now received another lecture on the way to the chess game.

If she’d been an optimistic believer in things like cosmic balance or whatever other spiritual notions were synonymous with evil versus good, she’d have hoped that all that bad meant this chess tournament would have to go off without a hitch.

She deserved a win today.

The rounds drew on and Twilight had collected exactly two as the fifth round reared its foreboding head.

The crowd seemed to mostly be made up of anxious academics like her, all faces she recognised from former mathletics competitions, AP classes, or the library on the weekend. No one went to the school library on the weekend unless they meant business.

The first kid she lost to she knew from AP biology as a total scholarly maestro, rivaling her grades in every test. That alone was enough to muddle her head into forgetting move orders. The second was a serious chess-head who had a picture of Magnus Carlsen on a heart-shaped keychain attached to his checkered backpack, so she cut herself some slack on that one, at least. She was still a beginner, afterall.

There was one more round, which she had to win to be guaranteed a spot on the team.

After crushing the last two games, Twilight was feeling pretty confident.

…

No, okay, that was a total lie.

Her heart was pounding, her palms were grossly sweaty, and her glasses kept slipping from the bridge of her nose, haplessly reminding her that not only was she going to never make it into a good college because she didn’t have any stupid hobbies like normal kids her age, but she was also, of course, partially blind too and LASIK was expensive and all it would take was for her glasses to break one day and she’d be basically forced to accept a blurry hellscape until she could get new ones and her mother would-

She was spiraling.

Twilight took a deep breath, as Cadence had taught her.

Normally, Twilight would hesitate to take advice, but this particular tidbit was backed up by decades of neurochemical research that showed adequate oxygenation helped to lower heart rate.

Lower heart rate. That was…good.

There was a brief recess during which players were offered the chance to grab refreshments, so basically everyone was either standing around the drinks table or sitting off in a corner with their friends, studying up what was definitely a tie-breaker round for most of them.

Twilight, however, was much too busy panicking to get much of anything down her throat except a series of gulps from her thermos, which contained a brew of nutritional density that she’d conjured up years ago to make eating more efficient.

Who had the time to cook when a blender and multivitamins were so much faster? People without an agenda, that’s who.

She was amazing. She was brilliant. She could do this.

After all, anyone who was dedicated enough to optimize nutrient delivery into their body was surely dedicated enough they could win a simple game.

Indigo Zap, the president of the Crystal Prep chess team who wouldn't stop referring to the crowd of contestants as ‘chess-sweats’, announced the start of every round with seemingly limitless gusto. She practically yelled every word, enthusiasm unmatched by her audience.

Though to be fair, Twilight doubted anyone could match her volume.

“Now! Are we ready to rumble?”

She cupped her ear exaggeratedly, turning towards the audience of competitors. There was an awkward mumble of cheers, earning everyone an unimpressed glare from the president.

“I said! Are we ready to RUUUUUUMBLE?”

A slightly louder cheer resounded and Indigo rolled her eyes.

“Jeez, you’d think you’re all being held at gunpoint to be here. This is a game people! Have some fun!”

When the hall remained quiet, Indigo sighed, grumbled something about typical nerds, then began calling out pairings by their assigned numbers.

Twilight, upon hearing her number called, headed off to the table Indigo had set her on. She sat down and pursed her lips anxiously, waiting for her opponent to stop taking their sweet time and finally join her.

So much depended on this. So much.

Her worst nightmares of community college and parental disappointment and Cadence sadly shaking her head as she sent her off to join a sports team and wear a uniform and sweat and swirlies in the locker room started playing in repeat.

And then, the chair in front of her was finally drawn.

Twilight looked up, instinctively starting to extend a hand for a sportsman-like shake.

Her fingers didn’t even get an inch above the table before they froze mid-air, her eyes bulging as they focused not on a pressed shirt or Crystal Prep uniform, but a blight of rainbow hair and pink eyes that, despite being covered by a pair of sunglasses, were recognisable as the same ones that had fixed with Twilight with so many scorned looks throughout her high school career.

In that moment, those eyes felt like they belonged to the devil.

Twilight was too shocked to do anything but gape.

She was wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up over her head and the glasses were different, but it was Rainbow Dash alright. It was hard to miss the colorful strands curling out from beneath the hood’s edge.

Rainbow Dash planted her hand on the table, hovering above Twilight with her head tilted bemusedly to the side, fixed her with an equally displeased expression.

“If it isn’t Egghead Prime herself,” Dash said, adjusting the collar of her jacket.

“Wh-”

Twilight sprang to her feet, letting out a yelp that was equal parts horror and shock.

“What are you doing here?!”

Dash crossed her arms, something unclear flickering in her features as she glanced at the side. Twilight would, at a later date, realize her gaze had been fixed upon the exit behind her.

Then, she turned back towards Twilight and rolled her eyes without an answer, her attitude problem returning before there was any time to think too deeply about her previous expression.

“Is there a problem here, ladies?”

Twilight turned to see Indigo Zap had materialized at her side, and realized how this must look. She looked like she was losing her marbles, eyes wide like she’d seen a ghost, standing a full few feet away from the chess board like it had burned her.

Embarrassed, Twilight sat down.

“N…no…” Twilight muttered, sheepishly.

Indigo continued to stare at Twilight, eyes narrowed, before a grin thundered across her features. “Good! Best of luck to you both!”

She clapped Twilight on the back, beamed at Dash, then strode away to continue checking on the next few tables.

Twilight’s arms remained clasped to her sides for a few seconds more, before she pointed an accusatory finger at Dash.

“Why are you here? Was ruining the entire subject of chemistry not enough for today? You had to come and mess up chess too?”

Dash looked momentarily taken aback, her eyebrows raised.

“You think I have nothing better to do than follow you around? I’m here to do the exact same thing as you, genius.”

“And what’s with that ridiculous getup? What, are you too cool to be here? You have to show up in a disguise? Is chess too lame for the great Rainbow Dash?”

“Don’t say my name so loud!” Dash snapped, then sunk back in her seat as the shout drew some looks from the tables around them. She shifted in the chair. “Too cool for you, for sure.”

Twilight’s eye twitched. “Do you ever have anything better to say than some juvenile retort?”

“Don’t you ever have anything better to say that isn’t about how much better and smarter you are than everyone else?”

“I never-”

“Let’s just get this game over and done with. Crushing you won’t take long.”

Twilight scoffed. “Psh. Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“You? Chess? Do you even know what the pieces are called?”

Dash’s lips thinned into a line. The expected rebuttal never came, instead, she started to smile.

She seemed to consider something, then took off the shades, folding them and placing them to the side of the board, then lowered her hood.

“Should we start the game?”

Twilight glowered at her, then lowered her gaze expectantly to the board.

Two diametrically-opposed armies faced in a square labyrinth of equal tiles.

It was commonly accepted among players that white, the army Dash was assigned at the same time their pairing was dealt, started with an advantage.

Twilight watched as Dash tapped the timer, then pushed a pawn to E4.

Going into the game, Twilight had run several calculations and streams of analysis. How familiar was Dash with chess?

Advancing the king’s pawn to E4 was a standard move, the most beginning move for white. It set up control of the center and opened the path for the white-squared bishop as well as the queen. Whether this was Dash’s intent or not remained unclear; jocks like her typically didn’t have much interest in the theory behind even the physical sports they played.

Twilight mirrored the move with a pawn to E5. The most common move following the step of white’s E4.

Dash drew her knight to F3. A book move.

Straight to attacking Twilight’s pawn. That was certainly in character.

Twilight defended by moving her knight to C6.

Her brow twitched slightly, and she suddenly felt nervous.

Dash activated her light-squared bishop to C4.

Twilight’s brow twitched as she moved her knight to f6, attacking the first pawn that Dash had moved.

This was immediately followed by Dash’s knight moving to g5.

Twilight had to restrain herself from smiling. Any suspicions she had of Dash attacking with a plan or knowing much opening theory died in that moment.

She was just moving the pretty horsey to attack Twilight’s pawn again!

This was easy. Twilight looked up to see Dash’s expression was unfazed, eyes downcast and focused on the pieces.

Twilight moved the queen’s pawn to d5, blocking Dash’s bishop. If Dash tried to take any of the attacked pieces now, Twilight could simply recapture and they’d be equal in material, with Twilight’s queen staring down the white pawn on g2, ripe for the taking. From there, she could challenge the kingside rook and prevent Dash from castling, if she even knew what that was!

As she expected, Dash plucked the pawn on d5 like a gorilla plucking a ripe banana from the jungle floor.

Twilight recaptured with her knight, confidence building back up.

The nightmares dissipated as she started to once again picture herself, this time, not as a community college failure, but as someone sitting giddily at her desk adding chess team to her list of accolades for her college application.

She expected Dash’s fingers to close around the bishop’s point, but instead, she went for the knight, taking Twilight’s pawn on f7.

Twilight was ecstatic. Gosh, what even were these moves?

She lost the ability to castle, but now she was up a knight. Of course, Dash could check her with the queen now, but what good would that do? Twilight would simply move her king back to safety and nip that little plan in the bud.

Twilight merrily picked the black knight back up, and dared another look at Dash.

She didn’t get a look back, however, as Dash moved her queen to the expected f3.

“Check,” Dash said, still looking down at the board. Twilight resisted the urge to made a snide comment. In most tournaments, you don’t even have to announce the check. Did Dash know anything?

Twilight moved her king to g8, tidily sliding in next to her dark-squared bishop and rook. If the game took much longer, she could move a pawn forward to fianchetto her bishop, then swap the places of the king and rook and it would be like she had the right to castle all along. Easy!

A perfect defense position.

Dash snatched Twilight’s bishop.

This time, when Twilight looked up, Dash was staring right at her.

“Check,” she said, toneless.

Twilight scowled, then looked down at the board.

Suddenly, she felt sick.

No. No. NO!

Twilight felt a bead of sweat form and roll down her back.

She heard the timer ticking to her left. She heard the chatter going on around her. She heard pieces clacking against wooden squares and announcements of checks and groans of defeat as the time ticked on.

Twilight had made a serious blunder.

Twilight had blundered. Seriously.

There was a trickle of hope that Dash hadn’t realized the position they were in, the vain prayer that maybe, just maybe, Twilight hadn’t underestimated her.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t in any way shape or form right.

She was Rainbow Dash. Notorious for kicking balls around, being too loud in class, and overall being the biggest pain in Twilight’s backside since recess was mandatory in elementary school.

She moved her bishop to e6, the only move she could make in this position.

Rainbow Dash smirked, then delivered the blow.

“Checkmate,” she said, simply, then got up from the chair and tucked it back in, as if she hadn’t just shattered Twilight’s entire understanding of high school hierarchies.

Twilight was left alone at the table, dumfounded, her dry eyes fixated upon the black and white snapshot of her undeniable failure.

Author's Note

First chapter of my first fic! This is an obligatory high school AU based around the concept of it being absolutely fascinating to me that Rainbow Danger Dash, the expected featherhead, could excel at a highly strategy-based game like chess.

I mean, if you think about it, she loves the Equestria equivalent of Battleships, so why not? I liked the idea of her dad being a chess grandmaster at some point and teaching her, like how knowing multiple languages seems like a feat to learn, yet comes easy if you were taught from a young age.

I made Twilight absolutely insufferable, but fear not! She gets knocked down a peg.

I honestly don't really expect anyone to want to read this apart from myself. I am the target audience; I mostly just wanted an excuse to write some silly Twidash.