Marooned at Twilight

I trudged up the staircase and out of that dingy storage room.

Part of me wanted nothing more than to take another few minutes to collect my thoughts and rest, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to pry myself away from that damned mirror if I did. That, and I knew the clock was still ticking. Tweedle Dee and Dum might not have known an intruder was on the loose, but that would quickly change once the alarms started blaring.

So on I marched through the rat maze.

Clumsily, I stumbled through the elongated hallways without a single idea of where the hell I was going. A right down a corridor. A left at an intersection. Empty halls greeted me, making the fur on my neck stand up at attention, along with my new horse ears.

I didn’t see any guards on my jaunt through the empty halls. No castle staff. No ponies at all.

…

Until I did.

White and gold. Blue mohawk hair and tail. Wings. Facing away. Christ. I was frozen on the spot, not daring to even breathe, while I watched them march down another hallway alone. Where was his buddy?

…Was this even the same guard? Swift something?

Bleh. Probably. Doesn’t matter; I’m already in the thick of it, might as well fuck around and find out. I didn’t have any accurate ways of measurement, but I guessed I was about thirty or so paces behind them—my shadow didn’t hang over them like a dark cloud, and my footfalls were dampened by the obnoxious clopping and clattering of their metal horseshoes.

I didn’t have any way of knowing if this was only going deeper into the belly of the beast, but I was at my wit's end. More foot traffic meant more possibilities of finding a way out or at least down a floor that didn’t end up with me in another dead end or supply closet. I remained cautious, however, and kept myself on a swivel for any surprises.

No one was walking behind me. Plenty of doors to dive into beside me. Clueless guard ahead of me. I breathed in deep. I can do this. Focus.

The guard turned right down another intersection, whistling. I looked both ways twice before following. The guard’s head was somewhere in the clouds, which quickly became a detriment as much as a curse from the almost molasses-like pace he was making. Was this intentional? He couldn’t be this clueless, could he? I’ve seen more professional behavior from the guard AI in Dishonored.

Thirty paces accidentally became fifteen, and I had to resist the rising urge to smash them over the back of their thick, stupid skull with each step.

Thankfully, they led me to somewhere that wasn’t the same hallways copy-pasted over, and I watched them disappear behind a set of heavy doors, which shuttered loudly in the silence that followed.

Trepidation filled me. I inched toward the door, pressing an ear against the solid wooden frame. Nothing. No obnoxious metal shoes clanking against the marble floors or whistling in foreign melodies. It was like they had vanished entirely. I pressed a purple-furred stump against the door and pushed.

Instantly, everything was brighter. The marble floors beneath me shimmered, and the purple and silvers accenting the hallway were washed in deep tones of gold. Stepping forward, the warmth beneath tickling at this body’s hooves felt like walking on solidified sunlight, and I briefly felt at peace with myself.

I breathed. In… and out. The exhaustion bleeding in from the edges of my vision slowly receded. In… and out. Breathe.

The air was crispier, too. Toasty and warm despite the moody weather waiting for me outside—perhaps from some bastardized version of a heating system relying on magic. Castles and old-timey palaces were cold and dreary things in real life if I remember correctly. I… why am I doing this again? Going off on these tangents? Focus.

A brief glimpse at the rooms surrounding me showcased dressers, beds, and fluffy, comfy-looking rugs with possibly unethically sourced materials. Guest quarters? I made sure not to poke my head into any more side doors; I couldn’t afford to get into conversations with the locals.

Sway. Swivel. My ears perked up. Whe—

“Oof!”

“Oh—oh my! My apologies, Ma’am! I didn’t see you there!” The pony’s frilly maid uniform was the first thing that immediately stuck out, almost enough for me to ignore her deep blue eyes that began to flash with recognition.

We stood there like deer caught in headlights. The gears in her brain were turning, but I couldn’t even breathe. She knew. She knew who I was pretending to be. The recognition in her gleaming eyes was too hard to ignore.

“Sorry!” I blurted out, my shoulder brushing against the maid’s firm cotton fabric uniform, not linen. Linen was too stiff for the prolonged duties of the castle staff. In fact… wait, what? I returned from that sudden tangent into reality, noticing the grey-furred maid back up a step while their mouth opened agape.

I stared into her eyes—stared into my own reflection. Blue, purple, and hazel colors swirled and glittered in the maid’s overly expressive anime eyes, only for her mouth to snap shut abruptly. Setting her jaw, she plastered a look of utter indifference on herself and stared.

I stared back, unblinking.

I’m no one important. Just walk far away from me. Please.

Sweat trickled down from my forehead, matting my facial fur. It was the only thing keeping me from being immediately set ablaze, but for how long? The air was becoming viscous and thick, and I found it harder to breathe with each passing second. My gaze drifted up to her forehead. Hornless. She wasn’t the one causing this. How—

I blinked. The maid followed suit.

Without a word, she briskly squeezed past me, disappearing into the utter maze of dusty corridors behind me.

‘A fluke. I… I won’t be so lucky next time.’ I thought, allowing myself to release the breath I was holding. Holy shit. My heart was back to pounding in my chest again as more answers swirled inside my head. What was that? Why the sudden shift in attitude? This body belonged to someone important—a student tutoring under a princess. Bad blood between the commoner staff and them? I wouldn’t be surprised.

Shaking my head, I kept moving, ducking into any empty rooms I could reach whenever I heard the sound of muffled hooves shuffling nearby. Most of them were maids or clothless ponies like me, and none seemed to be in any sort of panic, but I didn’t want to tempt fate. Not when I was this close to getting out of here.

I did run into more maids but kept a wide berth. Thankfully, they, too, kept their distance. There wasn’t any possible way they couldn’t have noticed me, but all of them seemed too entrenched in dusting off every possible surface with feather dusters or changing bedsheets to care. Perhaps, even if they knew who I was, they assumed that I had recovered from the event that landed them in a hospital ward in the first place. Maybe they were even new hires?

I knew they’d gossip about me later, but I was hopeful that I’d be able to escape before any knowledge of me passed down the grapevine.

Regardless, I kept my head held high and kept a relaxed pace. It was risky, but this trick worked more often than not whenever I didn’t feel like paying a bullshit amount of money for a concert ticket. Confidence was always key; she belonged here, even if they acted as my trojan horse.

Another intersection. I slowed. Which way? I was still on the second floor, and I needed—

Roiling thunderclouds clapped from somewhere else. My ears perked up at the noise, twisting and pointing toward a white door nestled inside a tiny alcove to my left. A yellow-painted sun stared back from it, almost beckoning to me.

“What are you doing out of bed at this hour?”

I grinned sheepishly, ducking my head into Clover the Clever’s Treatise on Spatial Convergence. She didn’t see me. She was obviously referring to some other pony up past their bedtime. Not me. Now, where was I? Ah yes. The anchor principle!

A shadow loomed over me, blotting out the candlelight over my fort of knowledge.

“Twilight?”

I looked up. Up, past the towers of precariously piled books and higher, past the slender white forelegs and whiter furry chest to a pair of twinkling mischievous magenta eyes. “I uhhh. I was gonna go—”

“To sleep, my little pony. Right?”

“I… yes, princess! To bed.” I pretended to yawn (even though it felt really good) and blinked. “And nowhere else.”

“Hmmm. I almost feel like I’m having deja vu… unless we didn’t have this exact same conversation yesterday…” Celestia gestured exaggeratedly with her forehoof tapping at her chin in deep contemplation. “Oh, of course! It wasn’t exactly the same conversation! You haven’t insinuated that I’m going senile this time! Silly me!”

“Princess? I—I never would… I mean, you’re older than my great great great grandparents, but—” I gulped. “I—um—just… five more minutes? Pretty please?”

Celestia smiled slyly. “‘Five more minutes’ is what you said last time, too.”

I slowly stood on my hooves, never keeping my eyes off the princess. She hadn’t moved an inch since she started talking, but her prismatic tail was swaying. Wagging, even. She stifled another laugh before leaning down ever so slightly.

“Do I need to revoke your library privileges? Or better yet, should I have Spike enforce a bedtime curfew for you? He can be very persuasive when gems are involved.”

“No! No, no. That won’t be necessary!”

“Then let's get you settled into bed, my little pony.”

“...”

“...”

Disappointment flashed across the princess's face suddenly. “Oh, Twilight… and here I thought you truly valued our lessons together!”

“Buwwwh! No! No! I do! I do appreciate our lessons together!” My heart pounded in my chest. What was she saying? Is she going to expel me? Banish me from Canterlot? From Equestria?

“Then why aren’t you asleep now? You know that a tired mind—”

“Makes careless magic,” I finished. “Princess, I haven’t forgotten your lessons, but please let me finish! I’m so close to learning how to cast this spell! I just need to adjust the framework a tiny bit to account for the anchoring principle, and I’ll be teleporting across Canterlot in no time!”

“Oh yes, I’m sure your brother and the guards would love to see a small, frazzled filly appear in front of them suddenly at midnight. Shall I warn them all in advance? Or will you be adding ‘sneaking past security’ to your skill set? Assuming you don’t catch on fire first, that is.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “Wait? What?”

Celestia grinned teasingly. “Did I forget to mention why a good night’s sleep helps young unicorns avoid setting their horns on fire?”

I gasped. “Is that—no, that can’t be a thing! Is it?”

“Only for students who ignore their teacher’s advice and stay up past four in the morning!” Celestia leaned in close and whispered into my ears. “I’ve seen it happen before—eleven times, as a matter of fact. Singed manes everywhere. Very tragic.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes. “You’re teasing me. Again.” I poked a hoof at her fluffy white chest floof. “That’s not fair, princess. I’m trying to push myself and make you proud, and you’re here acting like I’m… I don’t know… Spike trying to learn how to juggle. Or ride a bike.”

Warmth. Celestia’s wing draped over me like a soft blanket, and I allowed myself to lean into her side. “Twilight, you impress me every day just by being you. You don’t need to learn how to cast advanced spells or reinvent magic theory to earn my love or respect. You’ve always had it.”

My eyes began to sting. “But why? Why can’t you let me prove that I’m worth being your student? You’ve spent so much time teaching me…” I hiccupped. “If I can master one of Clover’s spells, won’t that show you I’m not just some filly who likes to read books all the time?”

“Shhh…” Celestia whispered again. “You are destined for greatness; I knew it from the first moment I saw you. The way you approach everything with such curiosity and heart—that is what makes you special. Not how quickly you can learn a new spell.”

“But I’m supposed to be special, aren’t I? You chose me. I feel… I have to do something big to deserve that, right?”

Celestia’s wing caressed my spine, sending tingles across my back with each small, circular stroke. “My dearest student, do you think my sun is special only because it burns so brightly? No, it’s special because it brings warmth, light, and life to everything it touches, just as you do for me.”

A dull ache settled in my ribs.

That memory left an aftertaste—bitter, familiar, and impossible to swallow. My hoof had been idly tracing a circle around Celestia’s cutie mark plastered on the door, and for a moment, I had been back somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Before any of… this. How long had it been? When was the last time I was nestled safely in her comforting wings? Months? Years?

Was this all still a dream?

My errant doubts and thoughts spun out of control, pinballs trapped in the rusty arcade of my mind. Truthfully, I wanted nothing more than to bury and erase this memory and everything else like it. I didn’t want her memories. I didn’t want to know about her past, or the people she became close to. I didn’t want her attachments.

Something inside me shifted. A stray emotion I couldn’t place. It writhed, fought to break free from elsewhere.

It wasn’t quick enough.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pushing against the door. “I never asked for any of this.”

I bit my dried lip. Silence. The past remained buried where it belonged. No more memories assaulted me as I finally squeezed into the narrow corridor.

“Thief.”

It wouldn’t do to have a secret passage if all the doors assaulted your eardrums every time they creaked open, which slightly calmed my nerves as my—her memories of this place came flooding back. These passages were meant for essential staff to quickly navigate the castle without prying eyes, and I was now one of them, if only by proxy.

Candlelight gleamed down the small passage, and I immediately knew to take a right at the third door—it would take me past the royal court and into the library. Finding a way to avoid more prying eyes closer to the exit would still be a challenge, but I didn’t need to leave through the front gates and stumble into the waiting hooves of Celestia’s tin horsies. Not when I knew where the other exits were.

The warm, mellow scent of aging paper and ink filled my lungs, followed by hints of dust. Shelves upon shelves of books lined nearly every surface, and I had to fight the urge to lose myself on another reading spree. Sure, I’ve seen comparable libraries back on Earth, but still. How much history was hidden on these shelves? Reading novels written by a completely different species was downright tantalizing despite everything.

But I’ve read them all, haven’t I?

I allowed myself to breathe, taking in the nostalgia while a spark of wonder flooded into my veins. She had spent years here burning daylight, stuffing her head into every new book that got placed on these shelves—

“No. Focus. Focus,” I whispered in my stolen voice, quietly going down a side aisle before poking my head out from the shelf.

White and pink mane. Greyish fur.

My eyes narrowed.

Dusty Pages.

The words floated inside my head innocuously at first, but Twilight’s eyes immediately lit up in recognition.

I stumbled forward. My legs spasmed from a phantom sensation. Not pain, but a gentle nudge from a breezy afternoon. Too late. Too late. My hooves tapped out a staccato rhythm, slicing apart the paper-thin silence of the empty library.

A pair of yellow eyes fell upon me. There wasn’t a chance in hell I could shimmy my way past the old mare’s owlish gaze and pretend this didn’t happen. She knew her. She. Knew.

In. Out. Breathe. This isn’t an interview; just act natural.Be normal. Whatever the hell that means.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Twilight Sparkle?” The mare called out from behind her desk in shock. Panopticon seemed like a far more befitting description, as her spot was strategically placed to seemingly see into nearly every aisle in the whole damn library. Christ, I had been royally fucked the moment I waltzed into this spiderweb!

“It’s good to see you too, Dusty.” I plastered a smile on my face, which wilted as I took a good look at the desiccated mummy manning the counter. “Err… sorry to bother you, is now not a good time?”

“No! No, dearie! You just startled me, is all! Come on over and let me get a good look at you!” Dusty replied, and I nodded, hoofing it over to her desk. “Tsk. Tsk. I should be asking you the same question! How did you convince the princess to let you out of her sight looking like that?”

“Look like what? Did my hair get all tangled again?” A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. It was a tightrope exercise trying to keep my smile looking normal, let alone bullshit my way out of this conversation without having any clue who they were beyond someone else’s memories. Too much, and I’d only need an axe to nail the look of Jack Nickleson’s character in The Shining.

“Twilight, you look like you crawled out of an emergency room and took the IV with you! I can still see the stitches poking out of your stomach, for Celestia’s sake!”

I tiled my gaze down, then my entire head to… yep. Stitches. I was honestly surprised I didn’t notice this sooner, but I also never bothered to contort myself into a boneless clump of playdough to look at my assets. Ignorance is bliss—err, was.

…

I need to submerge myself in ten gallons of bleach.

Dusty sneezed, and I looked back up.

Her golden eyes had trailed off into a thousand-yard stare. Dusty blinked, finally noticing my gaze. Hazel, then yellow and owlish once more. “You didn’t… did you? I know she’s been hush-hush about everything that’s happened to you, but your brother was still acting all dark and broody this morning, and we both know how he wears his heart on his hooves.”

I bit my lip. “Not too long ago, honestly. The princess is keeping everything all hush-hush until I get back on my f—hooves. Thankfully, that was surprisingly quick—”

“Quick? Dearie, I haven’t seen you in two months, and the last time I asked, you were still stuck in a coma.”

“Was it really that long?” The words escaped my lips before I could even whip up a proper response.

“Did nopony tell you? Surely the princess would have…” Dusty paused. There was a war happening behind the scenes in her expression, and I didn’t need a master’s degree in horse body language to understand that the mare felt conflicted in the matter. Suspicious. Empathetic. I could see my exhausted reflection in her massive dinner plates for eyes. She sighed. “Twilight, you really should head back. I know you’d rather gnaw off all your legs than spend another week cooped up in a hospital room, but we both know what’ll happen if Celestia or Shining finds out you snuck off.”

“I can’t. Not yet. Please,” My right forehoof bounced against the floor—a physical tic I apparently shared with Twilight here from the butterflies inside my chest. An idea floated to the forefront of my mind, and I snatched it up and spat it out. “I can’t stand it anymore! My mom is less overbearing and fussy than the princess, and that was before this all started! I can’t even cough without Celestia hovering over me and thinking I’ll fall apart at the seams!”

My frustrations had bled into my performance, which was not something I had planned or intended, but it felt right. Twilight definitely had some unaired grievances with her royal fluffiness it seemed.

“An hour of peace and quiet is all I ask, Dusty,” I pleaded earnestly, dialing back my anger. “I know it’s a tall order, but I’m begging you for this one favor.”

Silence. Dusty Pages stared at me, hoof resting on her chin. Tap. Tap. Tap. Her poker face was honestly remarkable, or Twilight was autistic and completely unable to read pony facial expressions. Knowing my luck, it was both.

“Twilight… I’m not trying to be unreasonable here, but you shouldn’t wander off now. You need rest, and—”

“I can rest anywhere else just fine!” I retorted. “And besides, if I wasn’t already recovered enough, wouldn’t I be bleeding out all over your floors right now, assuming that I wouldn’t have passed out from walking halfway across the castle just to get here?”

“Perhaps… but you could just as easily slip back into one if you’re not careful. Or worse.”

“The doc said I’m fine,” I lied. “Scanned my brain and all that, even had some stuffed cabbage rolls right after.” My face twisted at the mere thought of whatever vile monstrosity a pony hospital cafeteria could dream up.

“My deepest condolences.”

“...Thanks.”

“Are you sure you're okay? Can you tell me with one hundred percent certainty that you won’t keel over and die within the next hour?”

“Tell you what, granny, if I go first, I’ll save you a nice seat. Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t be right behind me, though.” I grinned as she barked out a laugh, shaking her head.

“Silly little filly… heh, one hour,” Dusty hesitated. “Grab a book or two and get comfortable, and I’ll let you loan them out once Her Highness gets a hold of ya.”

I shook my head and smiled in relief. “She’ll send you to the dungeons or worse if she finds out about this. I’m gonna head to the gardens instead and grab some fresh air, alright? It’ll be better for both of us this way.”

A quiet ‘mmm-hmmm’ rattled from her ancient lungs. “Make sure you don’t flap your gums when she drags you back to the hospital ward in chains then, dearie! I don’t plan on getting an early retirement anytime soon!”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dusty,” I replied overenthusiastically. “My lips are sealed!”

“Then you better hoof it; the clock’s ticking!”

I was already on my way to the opposite side of the library when I took one last glance behind me. Dusty waved back, smiling as her owlish hazel eyes stared a hole into the exit I was squeezing into. I nodded absentmindedly.

Out of her sight in the hallway, I took a brief glimpse at my wound. Circular, almost like someone had drilled a hole into Twilight’s stomach or stabbed it through with a thick metal pipe. I had zero clue where the wound was in relation to the average pony’s heart or other organs, but considering I wasn’t puppeting a corpse…

Why didn’t Dusty accost me more about this? How did I squeak past anyone at all while parading this wound like a badge of honor? Did no one but her notice? I should have known sooner, but there weren’t any phantom pains or sensations from the scar. It was almost as if it wasn't there at all to begin with.

A prickling heat crawled up the back of my neck as I crept my way to the gardens. Now wasn’t the time for this, not when Celestia could come calling at any minute.