The Dreams of Twilight Sparkle

Beside a well-worn copy of 'An intermediate guide to spellcasting' flickered the flame of a candle. Little of it was still left, really just a stump adorned with the tiniest flick of a wick, but it illuminated the pages nether the less. Tired, sleepy eyes traced familiar paths over equally familiar sentences. Yet no matter how much this studious filly had read, her horn seemed capable of only the most mundane of magics. Granted, Twilight knew that she was by far the best spellcaster in her class (once she had even overheard the Headmistress saying as much), but she was hardly Starswirl the Bearded.

Talking of Starswirl the Bearded, Twilight now found herself reading and re-reading the same sentence over and over again - only it wasn't quite the same sentence each time. What had started as "With this spell Starswirl transformed his rug into a mug" soon became "his pug into a bug" and then even "his bile into a mile", now that didn't even rhyme! At last, it seemed to settle as "his beer into his cheer", which seemed not nearly so impressive, as Twilight had seen her own father performing the same trick only the night before.

Tick tock went the clock, as the second hand went its merry way round. It was a terribly pointless life thought little Twilight, stuck going round and round in the same circle day after day and year after year, but the second hand enjoyed it well enough, for it never seemed to slacken in its pace. "How tiring must it be" thought the filly, her thoughts having drifted far from their usual scientific rationalism as sleep was slowly creeping upon her. It was irritating having to listen to the ceaseless ticking of that insufferable thing. Had she not had been caught staying up long past her bedtime, she would still be enjoying the quiet tranquility of reading in her bedroom. Yet as they had taken all her books away from her room as to put an end to her naughtiness, she had been forced to sneak downstairs to fit in her hours of night-time reading. Fortunately, the Drawing room was ever empty at night. Though unfortunately, it was home to the incessant noise of that infernal grandfather clock.

"How dizzy it makes one to look at that thing" she thought to herself, finding her eyes quite fixed upon the repetitive motion of the second hand, still upon its endless quest. "Now if only I could take a closer look at it. I don't doubt that the glass front piece might be opened... perhaps by this handle set here!"

Yet try as she might the longcase would not open, for it was locked tight. "A clock with a lock? How funny". Clever as our little filly was, she soon found the simple solution - how hadn't she thought of it before? Upon the piano stood a sheet of music, with a key at the start of the first bar. Key in hoof, the lock opened easily, and Twilight soon found herself gobbled up whole by the ravenous contraption. You may have expected the inside of a grandfather clock to be frightfully claustrophobic, but that was not at all the case. Rather, it seemed to Twilight to be much larger than the Drawing Room she had just left. Before her continued a long passage, bending ever so slightly to the right. Well, it made no sense to turn back, for she already knew what lay that way (a boring old Drawing Room), so our inquisitive mare-in-waiting took the only rational path, which was of course to carry on ahead.