Chapter Eleven: The 'Interesting' Life of Twilight Sparkle

High above Canterlot, purple magic split the air as a unicorn abruptly popped into existence. Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked tears evaporating as she fell toward the city from above the cloud layer. Looking to the horizon, she jumped again, disappearing with a hollow boom. A moment later, she appeared upon a cloud overlooking Ponyville, snapping off a quick cloudhoof spell and landing easily. Twilight Sparkle was used to teleportation, especially in a crisis. And I-I think this ranks ‘crisis’. Oh sun! T-that was so i-inappropriate!

A blue-grey pegasus stallion stared incredulously at her, a chewed length of hay falling from between his slack lips. She growled softly. This… this just isn’t the time. Her hair, unrestrained, fanned out like a dark cloud of creeping tendrils around her.

“T-Twilight Sparkle!?”

Horseapples! Just who is he again? He looks familiar...

“Please, get out of here. I-I’m on royal business, so stop gawking and move!”

It was the first thing that came to mind, and while it was technically true, she still felt a mix of guilt and frustration at having to say it. I’ve been lying too much recently. What would my friends think of me? The stallion, whose name escaped her, blanched and dived through the cloud in his sudden urge to escape her wrath. She sighed, resting her chin on her hooves as she watched the sun slowly begin to set. Inappropriate… what must she think of me?

“In all fairness, dear one, neither yourself nor the lady Celestia have seemed particularly chaste in your affections,” Terminus said softly.

She was struck by thoughts of the morning previous. Of hard little nipples poking Celestia’s belly. “Perhaps we should-”... eep. Her face felt as if it were on fire, and she covered her nose with her hooves, shaking her head frantically. Of how hard Celestia’s own had been.

“What do you fear, Twilight?”

I-I don’t know…

“Is it the… intimacy?”

I just don’t want to disappoint her. S-She’s my childhood hero, my teacher… what if I’m not good enough for her, to be with her... like that?

“I do not believe that will be an issue, dear one,” Terminus replied with such quiet conviction that Twilight paused, taking a moment to merely enjoy the view.There was a brief moment of quiet, where the only sound was the warm breeze fluttering over the compacted cloud material. The sun dipped low, brushing the sides of Smog’s Lair in its descent, lighting the clouds around her a brilliant golden red similar to the scales of the dragon himself. Her thoughts derailed momentarily as memories of Fluttershy shouting down a grown dragon flashed past her. Her brow hardened. Hold that thought, Terminus. Maybe Fluttershy could help. But first, the library. I need to make a list.

~~~

The front room of the library looked as if a bomb had exploded inside it, and in a sense it had. Books lay where they had been knocked from their shelves, in a rough circular pattern around a foot-wide splintered crater in the floorboards. Shards of glass from her experimental apparatus littered the floor. A pristine looking note sat next to the crater, presumably where Spike had tossed it aside. Twilight stood in the doorway, hoof slightly raised as if to grasp a doorknob, which had since swung out of a loose grip. I… what… how? Oh sun, how am I going to pay to fix all this!?

She wanted to strangle her pactmate, but had a worrying certainty that it lacked anything resembling a neck.

“Don’t forget the lungs, either, dear Twilight,” it helpfully reminded her.

Yes, those too… wait. Pay. Bits. Metal. You said true creation was possible.

“Indeed I did. More importantly, how capable are you of making whole that which is broken through transmutation?”

She tallied up the spells she knew in a mental checklist. That would depend on my understanding of the object in question, I think. Windows might be easy, but some of that glassware was imported from Cervidas by Celestia herself! I wouldn’t be able to recreate them exactly from memory, either way…

“Somehow, I do not believe the simple things will be problematic for you, provided you are capable of clearly picturing the intended result to a fine level of detail.”

Turning to one of the blown-out window frames, she telekinetically gathered glass in the area before transmuting the disparate shards into flat sheet, grunting in surprise as they simply melded together before she even had time to properly weave the spell. The magic came so easily that she was momentarily stunned at just how far her powers had progressed since her schooling days. Most unicorns learnt a narrow band of magics related to their talent, and took days of study to learn spells outside of that. For one such as her, whose talent was magic itself, magic flowed easily, at some cost of efficiency. While she could cast a gem related spell like Rarity with a little preparation, her own version would be vastly less efficient. Well, perhaps not, now. Now, she focused on a precise image of the result she wanted, and the magic simply seemed to do it, without the need to channel a spell. Say, Terminus, does this mean I could be capable of base elemental manipulation like the deerfolk?

“It… is possible, however such a thing would require us to work in concert. Your horn is simply the wrong material for that form of magic, but the spark is capable of much in the absence of such specialisations.” With a pang of longing, Celestia’s hornless conjuration flashed through her mind. Then it hit her, mental connections reforming to fit what she had seen.

True creation… is a variation of conjuration channeled through the spark instead of the horn, isn’t it?

“Very good guess, dear one. It is… correct enough to stand as a concept, yes. The truth is murkier, but I am afraid the mechanics lie outside of my areas of knowledge. I know enough, but I
suspect that the princesses know more than they speak on the subject,” Terminus mused, almost to itself.

Since when did you think aloud?

“I… I do not know, dear one.” The voice sounded almost as perplexed by the question as she was. “In any case… I believe now would be a good time, after all. Please, focus as you do to call up an actuality. I will assess the situation from there.”

All right. Um… let me get comfortable…

Gently setting the glass pane on the floor, she spread her magic over the sofa, glass chips and splinters of wood raising slowly out of the fabric. Piling them to one side, she hopped up onto it, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment to relax. It had mixed results.

Focus, focus, focus…

Silently, she wove the sheet, letting the magic settle over her, feeling herself change.

Drip. Drip.

There. She let out a soft breath she had been holding, just quietly enjoying the feeling of her normal fringe brushing her horn, rather than the slick feeling of her ethereal mane. No imagined shapes disturbed the tranquil blackness behind her eyelids, and it felt good. Her nose twitched as she thought she detected a faint scent of honeysuckle and night flowers.

“I… did not expect you to literally call up an actuality, dear one, but I suppose this will do for now. You must search further down. Follow me, please.”

R-right… how?

“Let go, Twilight.”

And with that, the darkness gave way to something else. It felt almost like pressing against velvet, and after a moment of flailing confusion, she gathered her magic and pushed against it. It gave way suddenly under her concerted attack, and she tumbled down through a maze of dusty bookshelves against opulent red walls similar to the Canterlot archives. Small shrines to each of her friends, happy laughter echoing in her ears. Yet she remained completely calm, which was odd, considering by all rights she might be falling to her death. Why? What’s happening, Terminus?

“Follow me.” The voice echoed slightly, sounding quieter than usual, and she instead tried to picture the direction it was coming from amidst the labyrinth of bookshelves. Her downward movement abruptly shifted sideways, and she found herself spinning end over end as a cave floor rapidly rose up to meet her. She let out a squeak, landing in a sprawl, but somehow nothing hurt. Maybe it’s because this is like a dream? I could...

“Stop that. If you attempt lucid dreaming techniques, this space will collapse around you, and we will have to try again.”

Got it… is that the spark?

She looked up into a brilliant purple-white sun, hanging low to the ground among a nest of massive stalagmites. Water dripped quietly from high above, in time with a steady humming rhythm from the orb.

“I am afraid not, dear one. That is, to some extent, you. Or rather, it is the magic within you, used to store that which you take in from Equus’ magosphere.”

So... a representation of my inner magic? Twilight facehoofed gently, feeling a sudden urge to explain herself. “Am I meant to be able to visualise it like this?”

A soft laugh that sent shivers down her spine. “Much of this… visualisation, as you put it, is merely a simulation run by my peripheral node, although I am allowing your mind to ‘fill in the blanks’, as it were. Care to see an image ponies were not meant to look upon? Direct your focus to the edges of this cavern.”

She peered into the gloom, away from the glow of the orb, but saw nothing. It was like looking into pitch blackness, but subtly different. A colourless expanse, a yawning abyss of non-space, her eyes stinging as she tried to make sense of it. Shuddering, she turned away, back toward the light.

“This space would be a representation of compartment of your consciousness devoted to maintaining the actuality you are currently projecting. The… nothingness beyond denotes that your body is now completely inactive. A true out of body experience.”

Twilight shook her head and snorted softly. S-so if my body is inactive, what is it doing right now?

“It is comatose, although without precise instruments most would think you dead.”

Remind me why this is a good idea again?

“Connecting fully to the spark that was formerly mine shall remove your dependency on your horn as a casting implement. Beyond that, it makes several branches of magic feasible to use, and changes the behaviour of many spells. Channelling via the spark, you would not need to connect the spell’s destination to your horn, merely call it into being at its intended target. In effect, you need not throw spell bolts from the horn when one could simply call the effect into existence next to, or even within the target.”

R-right. Onwards then, I suppose?

“Indeed, dear one. It is not far. Beyond the orb lies the link between us, and there rests the spark, where a permanent connection may be forged. Be careful. I cannot predict what you may experience within the link.”

That doesn’t sound ominous at all...

Steeling herself, she reached out a hoof toward the light, which parted around it like water. Gravity shifted, and she fell forward into the orb of magic as it drew her inside. Instantly, she was plunged into a dark, clinging liquid, as if she had sank into an ocean trench. Kicking her legs feebly in the thick material, she lit her horn with a thought, before finding that she could see herself perfectly clearly. It was as if she was a brilliantly illuminated figure cut into a sheet of perfectly black material. A purple object caught her eye, distant, but drawing closer somehow.

Is th-that… me? No, i-it has wings… and the mane is normal…

The Other appeared confused as it drifted closer, a its lip quirked in a very familiar fashion, as if she were a cluster of outliers to a particularly important data set. Her bearing, what Twilight recognised as a poor copy of Celestia’s regal, unhurried walk was somewhat ruined by her flustered appearance.

“W-what are you doing here!? I told you to make sure you don’t risk a parado— Oh! You’re not her!” the alicorn babbled, apparently unimpeded by the thick liquid Twilight felt around her. Experimentally, she opened her mouth, taking in a mouthful of the stuff, finding it sharp and tingly on her tongue, like mouthful of Pinkie’s sherbet.

“U-um… you can breath here, don’t let the link fool you. Is this your first time?”

Still not sure what to say to the apparition of herself, Twilight nodded slowly, gulping the mouthful of unidentified material painfully. She gasped, taking in a large lungful of the stuff, a moment of panic subsiding when she found herself breathing easily.

“I-I need to find the spark,” she said a little raspily, looking around at the black pit. The Other smiled gently, taking her gently by the hoof.

“It’s… well… come with me, it’s sort of difficult to put into words.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. It wasn’t too often she found herself unable to describe something, and when it happened, it was usually something utterly amazing. What was kissing Celestia like? Twilight furiously hoofed the side of her head to clear the treacherous thought away. To her surprise, it actually somehow worked. Her Other seemed equally shocked.

“You know, that’s a level of meta-thinking even I’m not quite comfortable with...”

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Twilight thrust her other hoof into the alicorn’s face.

“Sh-shut up!” The Other’s face contorted in outraged shock, and they exchanged a quick round of slap-fight, the motion sending them tumbling slowly through the weightless darkness.

“I do not! I— no, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s start this over from the top.” The alicorn let go of Twilight’s mane, and Twilight sheepishly released her death-grip on the Other’s left ear.

“R-right,” she muttered. Slowly, they reoriented themselves to talk face to face.

“Hi, I’m Twilight Sparkl-” they both began in unison, reaching out opposite hooves, before rearing back in eerie synchronicity. The other Sparkle recovered first.

“U-um… anyway, I was going to ask if the princess had given you Star Swirl’s codex to study yet, in your timeline.”

Timeline? So… temporal spellcasting, maybe? Isn’t that forbidden?

Twilight shook her head, dumbfounded. “You got to… to touch it?” Other Sparkle beamed, nodding once. Twilight’s eyes widened, and her pace quickening. “S-so you mean I’ll be allowed to read it as well?” Other Sparkle considered it for a moment, before tossing her head and shrugging.

“I don’t know. I mean, we’re both Twilight Sparkle, and we both met a Being that calls itself Terminus?” Twilight nodded at that. “But you don’t have wings, and your ethereal mane is… actually incredibly creepy, let’s not dwell too much on that. Um... anyway, that implies that we either met Terminus on different dates, or else you’re from a timeline that diverged wildly from mine,” the Other chattered, whirling around and actually managing to pace midair. “How long has it been since Princess Luna’s return?” A sharp jab of a hoof punctuated the sudden question.

“Three years, two months, twenty seven days…” she rattled off the difference without really thinking about it, concentrating more on the hefty issue of meeting what could have been herself.

“So the timelines are concurrent, then. That’s actually better than I’d have hoped for, Twilight,” the alicorn said with a smile. Twilight smiled back, though her thoughts were anything but happy. So, it’s definitely possible to become an alicorn… and the answer lies in Star Swirl’s journal, which must be within the palace somewhere. But are alicorns naturally immortal? If I can change my hair… Celestia could look however she wanted to… Sun, this is worse than I thought… A question occurred to her.

“Um, did you get banished for k-kissing Celestia?” she blurted.

Other Twilight froze. The silence quickly became awkward, as the alicorn opened her mouth, then shut it, seeming to reconsider her response each time, before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘No, I’m dating Trixie,’ accompanied by a fierce blush. Twilight could almost hear the crickets chirping. She put on what felt like the fakest smile in known history.

“W-well, I wish you luck with that. L-let’s never speak of this again,” Twilight said quietly.

“Agreed,” came the shamefaced reply.

“All right… still, I need to go, before somepony finds my body and thinks I’m dead.”

Other Twilight smiled weakly. “Actually, that shouldn’t be an issue, but you’re right, we should get going. Although ‘going’ isn’t precisely the right phrase for a space like this.”

With that, the Other grabbed Twilight’s hoof in a strong grip. “Hold on tight,” she whispered, and Twilight screamed as her mind stretched out toward infinity.

Cold. Dark. Whispers. Twilights eyes snapped open, but the feel of the strange linkspace remained the same. She was just elsewhere. Her own grinning visage met her, its eyes wide and lifeless, its chin coated with dried blood. With a squeak, she kicked the creature in the gut, sending it spiralling off into the dark. Trying to calm her breathing, she hurriedly looked around, finding herself drifting through a sky of black and silver, orbiting a sphere somehow darker than black. And in the gloomy light of a thousand far off stars floated bodies. Hundreds of crumpled purple forms, eye sockets blackened as if burnt, their coats matted with blood, each bearing that same eerie grin. She let out a strangled scream, a pulse of purple energy bursting from her skin, scattering the corpses away from her.

“Oh! There you are!” The Other Twilight called, her face creased with worry in the flickering half-light. “I-I’m so sorry, we were separated on the way here, and I lost you among the…” She shuddered, and Twilight barely resisted the urge to cling to the other mare.

“W-w-what are those th-things?” she asked quietly, looking all around her. They were still, drifting aimlessly around the void that sat in the centre of the area. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the corpses were drawing closer to them both.

“I really don’t know for certain. The spark… it feels very good to make contact with it for the first time, so my personal hypothesis are that these shades are those of us who tried to take in more magic than we were capable of handling. They seem harmless, but I-I don’t like this place, Twilight, let’s just get what we came for and go.”

She nodded, hesitantly. Right. Commune with the spark. Don’t get carried away and kill myself. Keep it together, Sparkle…

The alicorn stared intensely into her eyes, the awkward insecurity falling away for just a moment. “Don’t give up. Remember our friends, remember your purpose in coming here. The first time is always the hardest, so don’t let go, no matter what you believe you could do with the power it offers.”

Twilight smiled, then, reaching out a hoof to the alicorn. “Thank you. Really.” Shaking it gently, the princess Twilight grinned impishly.

“Just don’t die on me.”

Floating slowly toward the orb, she lit her horn, telekinetic projections forcing away the few shades that drifted close to her. Every line of inquiry just leaves more questions. How do I avoid the effects of the spark? A soft chuckle, and she began to hum a familiar tune, memories of Pinkie Pie flitting through her mind. Why, I’ll just have to giggle at the ghostie...

A tendril of magic stretched from her horn, lashing out to coil around the sphere with a shower of sparks. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but she slowly became aware of a low muttering at the edges of her hearing. Her body felt as if it had been immersed in ice, a numbing emptiness pulsing through her in time with the slow tick of eternity. Probabilities seethed at the edges of her vision, propagating endlessly as she sought to understand them as they slipped through her nets at every turn. An alien hatred, the bitterness of centuries, surged through her, leaving her hollow inside.

If I had more magic, perhaps I could perceive probable outcomes of my actions…

A rush of energy, the tendril of magic glowing a brilliant purple as she felt her brain fizz in her skull, thoughts growing ever faster as the net of concepts expanded ever outward. She quashed fifteen disparate lines of thought, trying to focus beyond the growing sea of probable realities, the network expanding as she attempted to grasp at some greater meaning that lay beneath it all. No! No, I need to establish a permanent link, to… to...

She couldn’t remember. Ponies marched like ants beneath her gaze, their thoughts fitting seamlessly together like clockwork as the sun and moon danced overhead. Why? Why do they matter, anymore?

A memory welled up to the surface. “Patterns, Lady Luna.”

It was as if a star had lit within her, the world suddenly righting itself amid a timeless sea of ever-expanding calculations. Of course! I-I need to establish a permanent link to the spark formerly of Terminus, not for my own sake, but for the sake of my friends. I dare not leave them behind. This I swear.

Steam rose from her coat, and she felt a faint wetness around her eyes. A burning sensation in her chest, as towering pillars of calculations collapsed instantaneously into a singular, inevitable outcome. Simulated timelines melted before her eyes, her thoughts slowing to a mere shadow of their momentary glory.

“Granted.”

White cracks spread across her vision, and she dimly made out the blurred form of the other Twilight, hanging in the gloom. It gave a solemn wave, and Twilight’s eyes snapped open.

~~~

“Hey Twilight!”

Nose to nose with Pinkie Pie, crown princess of home invasion, Twilight let out a squeak and toppled off the sofa. Urgh, so much for magics beyond mortal knowledge. I should have just let Pinkie handle it all.

She groaned softly, rubbing her eyes as she lay on the floor, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

“Um, Twilight? Oh gosh, you’re bleeding! I’ll be right back!” Pinkie said, darting into the library’s small pantry. “Wow! Somepony must’ve been really hungry in the night, your cookie jar’s all smashed up. Oh! Bandages! Look, Twilight, I’m a mummy! Woooo...”

As the pink menace frolicked in its natural environment, the kitchen, Twilight contemplated the blood on her hoof, willing her brain to begin firing on all cylinders.

“Pinkie,” she said, voice ragged. “Hold the first aid, I need some tea. Also, it’s not Nightmare Night for another month.”

Tea… Celestia… ah.

“No, coffee. Coffee is good too.”

Pinkie poked her head around the doorframe, a roll of bandage hanging from one ear, but her face was serious for once. “That’s lucky, looks like something ate all your teapots. What’s wrong though? You never drink coffee, Twilight.”

Twilight coughed, getting to her hooves, slowly making her way toward the kitchen. It was mostly intact, although the cookie jar and a lot of the pottery had fallen from their cupboards. She suddenly understood the lack of a teapot. Slumping inelegantly onto one of the kitchen benches, she looked over at her friend, who quickly tucked the roll of bandages into her mane, whereupon it disappeared amongst the curls. At that, Pinkie looked up, her bright blue eyes paralysing Twilight, even as the bouncy mare’s ears wilted. Why? What did she see in me?

“You didn’t come,” Pinkie said softly, looking more forlorn than Twilight had ever seen her. Even her hair seemed to lose a little of its springy vibrance. “I waited all day you know, so that we could talk about it, but you never came. After you went off to Canterlot, nopony heard from you except Spike, and all he knew was that you might be gone for a while. You’re… different, now. Please, let me in, Twilight.”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly.“Okay, Pinkie. Probably best if I get those hot drinks. This could take a while.”

In short order, two steaming cups sat on the wobbly coffee table in front of the library’s sofa. Twilight took a deep breath, trying to find a place to begin. Telling her that I nearly died would only make her feel bad, and I can’t let her suspect anything that might lead to Terminus…

“A wise decision, dear one… I must say, congratulations are in order on your swift recovery.”

Yeah, about that… we need to talk, Terminus, and soon. But not now.

“Understood.”

She worried at her lip, mindful of drawing blood, one starting point immediately leaping to mind. “There was an attempt on Celestia’s life at the banquet, a-and I was with her when it happened. So I stayed, to make sure that she was all right. She… isn’t, Pinkie.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened slightly, but to her credit, she took the well, gently taking Twilight’s hoof in hers. “That’s… wow, Twilight…” She blinked, seeming to rally. “Oh my gosh, was she hurt!?” Twilight gave a pained smile, squeezing Pinkie’s hoof.

“Hardly. That mare is practically made of iron. But… I don’t think she’s been okay for a long time. It’s been three years, but have you ever seen Princess Luna at the Summer Sun Celebration? I don’t think either of the princesses have been happy for a long time, Pinkie.” Pinkie looked like somepony had kicked her puppy for a moment, but nodded slowly, encouraging Twilight to continue. Or plotting the biggest party Canterlot will ever see. “Now, I stayed the night in the library tower, you know, where I used to live before I met everypony here, and I just remember the look on Celestia’s face when I came down to breakfast yesterday. It was only for a second, but I’ve never seen her look so lost and… hopeless. You have to understand, Pinkie… I just want to help her, and if I have to go away to Canterlot for a while, it’s the least I could do.”

Twilight felt her mouth growing dry and reached for her coffee, taking a small sip of the steaming drink. Again, she silently thanked her contacts at the palace, who had supplied her with the less common Zebrican commodity at an affordable price when she had bought a little on a whim. It certainly woke her up better than tea, and she sighed softly, offering a sip to her friend. The pink pony wrinkled her nose and giggled, waving the cup away before grabbing her own hot chocolate.

“No thanks, Twilight, but wow! So are you like Princess Celestia’s psycholologist or something now? Do you know mind-fu?”

Twilight laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, I think I fit in somewhere closer to ‘teddy bear’, actually. I’m squishy around the edges, and my colour scheme is soothing to the eye,” she deadpanned, though her blithe demeanor quickly wilted. “Well, until this afternoon, anyway... sun, I’m such a screw up!” Her head sank as she was once again reminded of her blunder.

“Well, what happened this afternoon to get you all in a tizzy, Twi? I mean, it is the Princess. Aren’t you, like, her favourite pony ever?”

Twilight felt her cheeks grow warm, and she spluttered a little at that. “I… u-um maybe, I don’t know a-anymore. I mean… I k-kissed her, but I thought it was all a dream, and then it wasn’t and oh sun I kissed the Princess… and n-now I ended up here.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened, and she breathed in so hard Twilight thought for a moment she might inflate like a balloon. “Twilight, you can’t just kiss and run! That’s like, the worst thing you can do to a pony ever, especially if they like you! Ev-er.” She punctuated the last part with pokes to Twilight’s chest.

“Ow, Pinkie! Wait… you’re not surprised that I kissed Celestia?” Twilight came up short. That’s the part she berates me for? What?

Pinkie sank back on the sofa, leaning to the side to lightly bop Twilight on the nose, jolting her back to reality. “Of course not, silly filly. Didn’t you say last sleepover that we’re all ‘statistically speaking’ probably into mares? Or something like that?” her bouncy friend rubbed an ear, throwing Twilight a puzzled look. “Anyway, I think everypony figured that was your way of telling us you were gay. I had a ‘Twilight Announces Her Sexuality’ party planned and everything, but Dashie just had to ruin it,” Pinkie said, pouting. Deeply aware that her face was probably an interesting shade of red, Twilight’s hasty rebuttal immediately descended into incoherent squeaking. Pinkie just grinned reassuringly, patting her hoof. “Don’t worry! You were probably right about us, really. I’m just the silly one, you’re the brain box out of all of us, Twi! I thought you’d make a move on me or Rarity, not a princess, though.”

“I-I know…” Twilight groaned, head in her hooves. “What am I going to do, Pinkie?”

“Weeeeeell… you can’t really do anything unless you know how she feels about it, so you’ll just have to be super duper double brave and march on in there! Unless she’s feeling sad. Then you’ll just have to be the best teddy bear ever, right Twi?” Pinkie chirped.

“Um, r-right.”

“Hey, it’ll all turn out okay in the end. We’ll all help you out, I mean, what are friends for?”

More than you know, Pinkie. She sniffled quietly, and felt gentle forelegs encircle her. Pinkie didn’t say anything, just held her until she had calmed down. Until that natural Pinkie Pie curiosity got the better of her, that is.

“When did you curl your mane, anyway? Those are some amazing contacts, by the way. Are they enchanted, to be all sparkly and stuff?”

Twilight gingerly poked her mane with one hoof. Then she poked it again. It remained obstinately curly, only reluctantly releasing the hoof from its coils each time. Oh sun.

“W-well, um…”

“Do you have to water it?”

Twilight sniggered, her laugh growing steadily louder until she was practically cackling. Ohohoh… do I have to water it… okay, Sparkle, you’ve officially snapped…

“Um, Twilight? I know it wasn’t that funny…”

Twilight wiped tears from her eyes, still giggling a little. “Oh, you have no idea. It’s the best joke I’ve heard all week.” They were quiet for a moment as Twilight’s giggles slowly subsided. “Actually, it wasn’t intentional. I haven’t really found a way to change it back permanently, but… I’m getting used to it, I think.”

“You know, it looks a lot like those weird monsters from Dashie’s comics. I didn’t really get it, but the mares seem pretty happy,” Pinkie beamed, and Twilight nearly swallowed her tongue. Dash? Comics? Surely she doesn’t mean… no. Nooooonononono. I did not need to know that about Dash. “I really like being happy, Twilight.” Or Pinkie. Especially Pinkie.

“A-ah, do you now…” she muttered, edging away slightly.

Pinkie rubbed her chin, heavily scrutinising the odd hair-plant that seemed to sprout from Twilight’s scalp with a magnifying glass, before shrugging and tossing it through one of the library’s windows.

“Yup! It’s hair alright!” she said, looking vaguely disappointed, before running a hoof over Twilight’s scalp for good measure. The purple mare whined in protest, before tackling Pinkie, a brief tickle-war breaking out. Easy to forget about that earth pony strength. I mean, it’s Pinkie, who’s going to suspect she could punch out a full grown bear? The floorboards creaked ominously, and Pinkie’s eyes widened as Twilight’s hair coiled its way around her midsection.

“Ahaha… mind where you’re… ah... Twilight!” Pinkie groaned, quivering as the ends of the mane brushed over her ears. Twilight grinned, wiggling free of the pink mare’s grip.

“Well, it seems the tables have turned, haven’t they?” she said lazily. Pinkie writhed, giggling and panting amidst the coils of Twilight’s hair. Wow, I never knew her ears were that ticklish… hmm… a wicked smile crossed her face as she lowered her head to gently take one of Pinkie’s soft ears in her mouth, licking it tenderly as if to clean it. It was a common way for mothers to calm a foal, but for Pinkie it would be just unbearable, she was sure. Serves her right for starting this. Of course it’s just hair! Turning her attentions back to the mare beneath her, her eyes widened.

“A-ah, let me go, mmh, Twiiliiight!” Pinkie moaned quietly, shuddering in her grip. Twilight’s eyebrows raised, and she froze as a familiar musky smell met her nose. Wait a second…

Releasing the ear from her mouth, she hurriedly rolled off her friend. With a tug of her head, she managed to coerce her mane to release Pinkie. Red in the face, gasping and shuddering, the mare took a moment to meet Twilight’s horrified gaze.

“A-are you okay, Pinkie?”

Her friend gave a tired, but very satisfied looking smile. “Just fine, I… hah… need a minute though. Warn me next time?”

Biting her lip, Twilight tried to consider her options as her thoughts careened into outright panic. “Oh m-my gosh, I’m so sorry Pinkie, I didn’t mean to...”

“What are you… hah... talking about? That was amazing,” Pinkie purred, eyes half-lidded.

“I… um… oh wow…” Twilight mumbled, backing away. Her face felt like it was on fire, although that might have been the burning shame. “I-I’m not sure how to handle this. See you soon, Pinkie,” she said, managing to keep her breathing mostly stable. Pinkie’s eyes narrowed at that.

“No you don’t!”

Twilight’s world filled with pink, fluffy hair, and she was dimly aware of her nascent teleportation fizzling. More keenly, she felt the soft weight of the other mare laying across her, and of Pinkie’s warm tongue gently grooming her ears. Despite her fears, it was incredibly soothing, and without even meaning to she found herself simply laying there, basking in the attention.

“You can’t just kiss and run, remember?” Pinkie breathed, the warmth making Twilight shiver in her grip. Swallowing hard, Twilight replied.

“I don’t remember anything about kissing, Pinkie.”

Pinkie pulled back, regarding Twilight very seriously. “That’s because I haven’t kissed you yet, silly.”

Her eyes widened. “Wha—?”

There was no explosion of tingling warmth. Just soft little lips caressing hers, a tongue teasing its way into her mouth as Pinkie’s hooves cupped her chin. Tangling her hooves in that frizzy pink mane, Twilight pulled the other mare closer. And it was… nice. Somehow, the ear massage had sent her past relaxation into a sort of sexual zen, and she almost laughed at the thought. Kissing Celestia had been overwhelming, a sunburst burst of passion, but kissing Pinkie was like a warm summer’s day. Thinking back, she caught Pinkie’s lip between her own, gently tugging at it with her teeth, eliciting a pleased little groan from the mare.

“Wow, and here was me thinking you’d never done this before!” Pinkie said, eyes shining with excitement. Twilight’ winced, the spell broken, her mind catching up to the present.

“And what, may I ask, is ‘this’, Pinkie!? Oh sun, oh sun-” she babbled before a pink hoof shushed her.

“Well, I just wanted to have a little fun before the princess steals you away,” Pinkie whispered, planting soft kisses along Twilight’s jawline, easing the tension there effortlessly. A flash of insecurity in those bright blue eyes, and Twilight's chest twinged. “Unless… you don’t want me?” She tried to make it sound teasing, but Twilight wasn’t so sure. I want her to be happy.

Twilight swallowed again, heart hammering in her chest. “I-It’s not that, I j-just… uhm…” What do I say to that? Celestia… unless I’ve scared her off, too. It’s… just fun? She licked her lips delicately. Can I turn her down without hurting her?

Pinkie nuzzled her neck, cuddling close, smiling sadly against the soft fur. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer that.” She was sure she felt the pink mare gulp back tears, and Pinkie’s voice was watery when it returned. “I-I’d wanted to know if you’d maybe join me and Dashie one night, but if you’re in Canterlot with the princess, I’d never get the chance...”

No, I want you to be happy, Pinkie. I promised. You don’t need me, but if it will help… cross my heart. “You know, just because I’m going to Canterlot doesn’t mean I can’t take one night off,” she muttered. “You are a very silly pony, Pinkamena Diane Pie.” She punctuated the statement with a prod to the other mare’s sides, eliciting a soft giggle. “It’s just… a lot to take in, especially considering… everything else. How does this work? Are we marefriends, or friends, or…”

“Friends, Twi! Nopony ever said friends couldn’t kiss each other, or maybe make each other feel good sometimes. Dashie’s my marefriend, silly,” Pinkie said, pecking Twilight on the lips for good measure. “And you’ll have the princess, of course.”

Twilight shook her head, settling it back against the floorboards. “That’s not certain, though. I’ve… I’ve messed up.”

“No, you’ll be okay. You’re one of my five favourite mares, I trust you,” Pinkie said, resting her head on Twilight’s downy chest. Wish I could trust myself like that, Pinkie. I just hope the moon has mail services. The pink mare wiggled around a little, and the floor creaked ominously. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes widened.

“I never really thought about it, but there’s a big hole in the floor! Oh, what if it’s a burglar’s secret escape tunnel, Twilight? So that’s where the teapots went to…?”

Oh sun, right, the repairs. Twilight quickly wiggled out of Pinkie’s grip while she was distracted, taking the opportunity to dig a hoof into her friend’s squishy, ticklish side. The party pony went down hard, giggling all the while, and Twilight quickly took the opportunity to entangle Pinkie’s forehooves in her mane, just to make sure there would be no surprise attacks. With that done, she switched to lecture mode. Gives me time to think, at least.

“Well actually... teleporting objects works differently to teleporting ponies. No burglars, Pinkie, just a scroll I sent to Spike, which apparently exploded. I think I may have put more power into the spell than needed, which was released when the object arrived.”

Pinkie tilted her head, such as she was able, all thought of improbable burglaries and tentacular hair suddenly abandoned. “Cool!”

Twilight gave an exasperated huff, letting Pinkie go before getting to her hooves. “No, it’s not cool, it’s immensely destructive when it should be completely harmless! Even my cleaning spells have been going haywire lately! That’s why I was working on a new one, remember?”

Her friend nodded, her eyes practically shining. “It was so pretty!”

She facehoofed, beginning to pace. “Pinkie, do you mind if I practise a little? I might need to move the furniture, so sit still if you can, okay?” Pinkie chirped an affirmative, and Twilight telekinetically pushed the room’s furniture out of the way, taking special care with the coffee table’s sensitive cargo. Her cup hovering at her side, she took a sip before readying herself into a basic casting stance.

So, Terminus, what do— A knock on the door interrupted that thought. Illusions snapping into place, Twilight teleported to the front door, opening it just in time for the second knock. Hope I don’t look too freshly kissed... The descending hoof immediately made her flinch and duck, but the unfamiliar blue mailstallion thankfully noticed in time to avoid hoofing her in the face.

“Hey there, sorry about that... delivery for Twilight Sparkle?” he said gruffly. Twilight nodded to him, looking over his shoulder at the mailcart.

“That’s me. Hey Derpy! Wow, are you sure you have the right address?” The ditzy mare waved amiably to Twilight, nearly dropping the crate she was carefully maneuvering off of the cart. A tendril of magic lashed out from Twilight’s horn, easily hefting the box away from the clumsy mare. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it from here.”

“Heh, thanks Twilight!” Derpy said, saluting her. “Careful though, I think they said it was fragile. Oh, and it came with a note, here.”

“Right,” said Twilight, tapping her magic for a moment to cast a jellification hex on the crate, but barely feeling the loss. Normally the spell would be used to temporarily inconvenience another caster, or limit the mobility of a creature, but here it allowed her to squeeze the fragile crate through her front door despite the crate being almost half again as wide. Thanking the postponies, she took the note in another tendril of magic, levitating both into the main room of the library.

“Wow, who sent you a shipping crate, Twilight?” Pinkie wondered aloud. “Is it party supplies? Sciency stuff? Oh, oh, is it a shipment of pastry for our cake cartel, before we march on the palace?”

“I think…” Twilight trailed off, reading over the note.

Dear Twilight,

Special delivery, my little pony! I heard that you had lost a lot of glassware in your latest magical experiments. With that in mind, I took the liberty of sending a personal request to Cloudsdale.

Hugs,
Celestia

“U-um… sciency stuff. For doing science. And things,” Twilight babbled, blushing faintly as her thoughts derailed into warm hugs that smelt of sunshine. Her mood fell at that, a bittersweet feeling overtaking her. Seemingly to answer her thoughts, a pink hoof settled itself around her shoulders, and she hesitantly squeezed Pinkie in a tight hug. It felt so very different to hugging Celestia. Where the princess was firm, silky, and coated in intoxicating warmth, Pinkie felt soft and welcoming, but with a hint of something more. I should go back... Oh sun, that was so silly of me, and now she'll never forgive me...

“Equestria to Twilight, come in Twilight,” Pinkie whispered into her ear, giving it a quick nuzzle for good measure. Gently, they let go of each other, and for a moment Twilight simply stood still as the silence stretched. She blinked, shaking her head to clear it of the warm fluffy sensation Pinkie seemed to emit. The other mare smiled brightly.

“You looked like you needed a hug.”

“I… yes, I really did. Thanks, Pinkie! Now, where was I? Oh, magic, right,” she said, placing the crate in a corner where it oozed outwards slightly under its own weight. The spell would wear off in its own time, after all, and she had bigger fish to fry. A focusing symbol flashed through her mind as she collected the necessary magic to conjure stone, the air around her shimmering a translucent green, before several hoof sized rocks fell to the floor amongst a pattering of gravel. Breathing out a sigh, Twilight groaned softly even as Pinkie applauded the effort. No… I still hate it, Terminus, and it’s far too draining to be practical. So how do I cast with the spark, now that I’m connected properly?

“Well, if you are finished being highly distractible, I suppose we should make use of the time we have. The use of the spark will most likely be similar to learning the use of an additional limb. For now, let us just aim for telekinesis, as the most basic of unicorn magics, and allow you time to grow accustomed to its use.”

Twilight took a deep breath and felt her magic gather inside of her. In the corner of her eye, she saw Pinkie’s hair frizz up. After many false starts where she inadvertently sent magic to her horn, she happened upon a curious empty sensation. The magic drawn from her core pooled into a secondary reservoir, rather than fuelling the spell immediately, and her horn remained dull. It felt odd, almost as if her horn had somehow become clogged, and the magic was simply pouring out into nothingness. I-Is this it?

“Very well done, dear one. That was at least an hour faster than I had expected. Your friend, it seems, is growing bored with this little display however. Hold it there, if you will, and familiarise yourself with the sensation.”

Ah… r-right. Her eyes shifted over to Pinkie, who was currently upside down on the sofa, drinking her chocolate with practised ease in apparent defiance of gravity, her hooves kicking idly in the air. I wish I had something to show her. A faint purple spot appeared over the mare and Twilight blinked as the reserved magic was suddenly ejected from her. Oh, ponyfeathers...

“Whoa! Twilight!” Pinkie shouted gleefully as she gently revolved around the point, a metre off the ground.

“I didn’t—” Twilight began, only to be interrupted by the babbling mare.

“You’re not… oh my goodness, the library’s haunted, Twilight! Hello Mister Ghost, would you like some hot chocolate?” Pinkie waved her half-full mug toward the ceiling, as if toasting something nopony else could see.

“I mean, I did, but—”

“You can summon ghosts!? That’s so amazingly cool! Again! Again!”

Twilight facehoofed, letting out a quiet groan before clumsily cutting the stream of magic to the telekinesis spell. It felt awkward, like having a secondary horn that suddenly stopped existing the moment she stopped channelling. The sensation of casting lingered for a few seconds, as if she were now missing a limb. Pinkie dropped to the floor with a thud, chocolate splashing everywhere, and Twilight immediately ran to her side.

“Oh sun, I’m so sorry Pinkie!” she said, helping the mare to her hooves. Luckily, the cocoa hadn’t been hot enough to scald, and Pinkie bounced up without complaint.

“You didn’t mean to drop me, right?” she asked, smiling gently.

Twilight bit her lip. “Well, no, but…”

“Well then, no harm done,” Pinkie’s smile turned impish, “time for make-up hugs! Come on Twilight, I taste delicious!”

And with that, Twilight fled from a chocolatey doom.

~~~

With Pinkie happily ensconced in the bathroom, offers of sharing a bath notwithstanding, Twilight breathed a soft sigh of relief, allowing herself a moment to wind down and lick chocolate from her fur. She was right, she does taste… no, wait, that sounds so wrong. An hour alone with a concerned Pinkie made tea with Celestia look like a cakewalk. It was nice, but there was a reason she didn’t hang out with Pinkie much by herself. The mare was so energetic it was exhausting, and if not that, then worryingly intense, and to be alone meant that all of that energy was currently focused on her. Still, at least she didn’t ask too much about the hair, but…

“Indeed. That was quite sloppy, wasn’t it dear one?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm, but as her thoughts on the situation progressed, a familiar frantic energy began to grow in her stomach. That’s… that’s one way to put it. I thought Pinkie was crushing on Dash, not… well, me! Oh sun, this is just too weird… what am I going to do? I don’t want to turn her down, I want her to be happy… and she’s right, friends should be allowed to make each other feel good, right?

“I suspect you are asking the wrong Being, dear one.”

Twilight shuddered, hair twisting and curling in an imaginary breeze. Like a monster, Pinkie? What do you suppose I could do to you with it? She took a gulp of cold coffee, forcing back the flow of mental images, which brought with it a curious sense of detachment. After all, it was interesting to think about her prehensile mane, and what she might be able to do with it. Oh. Right. That. And that too. Um… I can’t believe I already did that. Maybe not that… oh dear... Terminus, about those ‘mental fluctuations’... are you responsible for this?

“It is possible. Or else you are simply more frustrated by your earlier encounter with the Princess Celestia than you are willing to let on.”

Hmm… also true. Wait a moment… didn’t you say my friends wouldn’t all suddenly fall in love with me?

“The implication being that if such a thing were to happen, it would not be due to any… assets you have acquired from our union. The pink one’s fascination with your ethereal mane notwithstanding,” the voice sounded heavily amused.

Of course you did… so I can at least be sure that I’m not somehow hypnotising her into anything, at least? Twilight curled up on the sofa, hair coiling around her like a silken blanket.

“Such a thing is possible, however such powers were not an intrinsic section of my repertoire, no. If it were needed, it would be necessary to weave the requisite mind control spells, or perhaps intervene directly through the use of the spark. Not something I would expect from a pony such as yourself, I am sure.”

… you have that right. I’d never violate another pony’s mind like that. She sighed softly, getting to her hooves. Ah well, no use worrying about it now. Priorities, Sparkle, you can think about it when you’re done learning how to cast with your spark. Stepping into a basic casting stance once more, Twilight readied herself. Telekinesis, then. I think I know what to do now. Once again, she allowed her magic to pool, before focusing on a point just ahead of her and simultaneously reaching out for the coffee table. A bright purple shimmer formed in her vision at the point ahead of her, while the coffee table floated up to gently orbit it. With a grunt, she pushed the coffee table away, keeping her eyes fixed on the purple dot. A thin tendril of magic extended, as if the dot were her horn, and she nearly dropped the table in surprise. That feels so strange… and it seems that the object still wishes to return to that point, despite my will…

“That would be because you are treating this form of magic as if it were a secondary horn. You need not extend the magic outward from the spark, merely move the spark to where you need the object to go. The manner in which you are using it is most inefficient, dear one.”

Right, but if I were to use the telekinetic tendrils to instead apply a cutting field…

For a brief instant she felt fierce satisfaction leak through the link. “A most interesting development, dear one. Due to the remote nature of the magic fields generated by the spark, with no need for a link between yourself and the target, I am sure you are beginning to grasp some small measure of the applications this can have, even within magic commonly used by unicorns.”

Twilight tossed her head, moving her writhing fringe out of her eyes, and allowing the table to return to the glowing focal point. With an effort of will, the location of the point shifted five feet to the left, the table floating over to meet it as if it were on an invisible leash. I… think so. Most duelling defenses would be useless against a spark wielder, because they only form a barrier rather than a solid shape. The spark user could just cast through wards as if they didn’t exist! Oh, I can’t wait to find out how this works! It runs counter to just about every idea we have on spell projection!

“Indeed, dear Twilight. Now, perhaps we should attempt to conjure a simple wooden object?”

R-right. Well, here goes nothing. Let’s hope I can partition my concentration right, otherwise this could get interesting. She took a deep breath, the focusing symbol for material conjuration clear in her mind. Thankfully, once called, the spark seemed to stay where it was without additional direction, which at least meant she wouldn’t need to split her concentration three ways. With an exertion of will, the air in the library took on a shimmering green aurora, and a moment later a large cube of wood materialised in a blinding flash of purple light. Twilight staggered, shielding her eyes. Her legs felt like jelly, her thoughts muddled. The rocks on the floor quietly popped out of existence as the magic sustaining them cut off. A-ah, see? I did it, Terminus. I… did… it.

“Be that as it may, please rest, I beg of you. My reserves… take them.” The whispery voice came out almost hoarse, even quieter than normal. A steady stream of magic flowed into her across the link, the void aligned power spreading through her like ice. Hm? Since when did hearing voices become normal? The air thickened momentarily, a faint tinge of honeysuckle meeting her nose. A smell that was rapidly becoming familiar.What’s with that smell, anyway? You know, if this keeps up, I’m going to develop a Pavlovian response to the scent of honeysuckle…

“That is truly how you perceive it? That is… unorthodox, but entirely within the realm of possibility. The magical expenditure of probability manipulations, while modest, taints the surroundings with small quantities of magic ‘borrowed’ from possible timelines.”

“...borrowed?” Twilight said, noting the heavy quotations around the word. Terminus made a soft hiss of displeasure, voice taking on a slight edge of indignance.

“Not the word I would wish to use, but perhaps a better word is… absorbed? In any case, due to some rather specific and esoteric laws relating to the use of temporal magic, most Beings are bound to acquire some of this temporal spell corruption as they cast. There are some who do not, but they are very much the exception to the rule. Beware these Beings. Even in defeat they are dangerous. They do not display their attacks openly. Still, this taint makes the use quite obvious to most, but at the same time they become frequently necessary when one’s host is a magnet for chaos.”

Twilight snorted, shifting around a little to get more comfortable, but still not feeling strong enough to get up. Sensation was returning to her legs, at least. That’s… pretty apt, actually. My life is crazy, I’ll admit it. Did you see that memory of the time we met a hydra in Froggy Bottom Bogg?

A polite cough. “I am afraid not, dear one.”

When were you going to tell me you could do that, by the way? I know enough about magic to know that pricking, ‘watched’ feeling isn’t natural.

Amusement flowed through the link. “I suspect you know enough about paranoia too, mad wizard Twilight.“ She giggled, but didn’t object.

You’ve changed,Terminus. Since we met, I’m beginning to feel more and more from you...

“So have you, dear one. Terrifying, isn’t it?” the voice muttered drily. A moment later, it continued, becoming heavier in tone. “Still, in the scant time I have known you, I fear I have mistreated you terribly, dear Twilight. My desperate intrusion has thrown your life into disarray, and while I am not responsible for many of your recent developments, I have hardly made your time easier...”

It’s… been an interesting few days. To put it mildly. Still… as I said, my life is crazy, and if it wasn’t this, I’m sure some other insanity would be taking place right now. So apology accepted. We all have to learn how to be friends, and there’s no manual for it!

“A travesty for the literary community, I’m sure.”

I know! I looked everywhere, but the only ones I could find are those dreadful self-help books that aren’t really about helping yourself at all. It made my journey to Ponyville quite disappointing initially, learning that during the chariot ride. Still, speaking of self help… I have no idea how to help Luna, and what I did to Celestia was just… wrong. Why does it feel like I’m taking advantage of her? She’s so much older than me, but… it’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The only question is whether it was what she wanted…

She felt sick to her stomach, guilt weighing her down like lead. A gentle feeling of being watched made her fur prick and itch slightly. Isn’t it a bit rude to read my memories while I’m talking to you, Terminus?

“I am sorry, dear one. I am merely checking my facts before I reply… ah. Far be it for me to comment on the mating behaviour of ponies, but it does appear that the Lady Celestia was quite… receptive to your advance.”

Twilight twitched, rolling onto her side and hugging herself gently with her forehooves. I-I know, but I can’t let myself believe it was completely willing. She’s not in a good place at the moment, and for all I know she’s just craving physical contact! I-I can’t…

“One cannot presume to know the mind of a Being whose age spans millennia so soon after awakening. She will pull through. She has likely been through many such cycles in her lifetime, as have I, although our differences in composition produce varied results.”

Yes, but what do I do about that!? All that tells me is that Celestia thinks in mysterious ways! How can I find… she pawed at the floor, trying to find the right words. Terminus’ voice grew stronger, and Twilight could feel its agitation.

“You seemed quite confident to assert that you had somehow violated her a moment hence. We could simply sit here and, through the tedious medium of guesswork, assign motives and thoughts to your ruler, or we could return to Canterlot and determine the truth for ourselves. I will leave the final decision to you, dear one. I sincerely hope the decision is not a difficult one.”

She wasn’t sure how long she lay on the floor, waiting for her body to stop shivering, but it couldn’t have been long because Pinkie soon sauntered in, her puffy hair wrapped up in a towel.

“Twilight!? Oh my gosh, are you okay!?”

Twilight coughed weakly, stumbling to her hooves. “I-I will be. Just… took a lot out of me.” Pinkie hurried to support her, and between the two of them Twilight was ensconced on the sofa in record time. And if Pinkie sat a little closer than was considered just friendly, Twilight didn’t mind overmuch. “I-It worked, Pinkie. It’s not r-really efficient to use, but it works,” she muttered to her friend.

“What works, Twilight? I heard a really loud noise in the shower, and the air went all green and pretty. Was that your secret death-ray test?”

Oh, if only… haha wait, no, I am not becoming a mad wizard, brain. Nice try, though. She sighed, and Pinkie’s eyebrows rose at her hesitation. Why not? I’d trust Pinkie with my life... “Keep a secret?”

The bouncy pink mare nodded brightly, “Promise! Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

Twilight gestured with a hoof to the three foot high block of wood that now decorated the centre of the library. The fact that it wasn’t continuously draining magic from her reserves testified well to its permanency. “That wood is completely real. I conjured it, but it’s going to last as long as real wood… would,” she finished awkwardly.

Pinkie laughed, “Wood wood wood! What else can you make?”

Twilight shrugged, nestling into the sofa cushions for warmth, “I’m not sure. I only chose wood because it’s one of the easier materials to conjure, and the spell nearly knocked me out. I doubt I could handle metals yet. Something made from reeds, or woven grass might be okay, though.”

“Do not even consider it, dear one,” Terminus cut in, causing Twilight to jump lightly. “Collectively we will be more than capable of making the jump back to Canterlot, but we cannot afford to jeopardise that, given your position with the lady Celestia.”

M-maybe I should just wait… hmm. No. Pinkie’s right. I need to talk to her, and soon. Even if the prospect of seeing her scares me to death right now. We’ll go back tonight, after I make sure Spike has someplace friendly to stay. I just hope Fluttershy will have him. She always did want an opportunity to look after a baby dragon, but he might be bored with her.

Pinkie looked a little disappointed, but seemed to accept that no more was forthcoming. She did, however, notice that Twilight’s teeth were practically chattering. “Hey, you look cold. Want me to warm you up a little?” she whispered into the unicorn’s ear, warm breath making it twitch in anticipation.

What. That’s so cliche, but... Twilight blushed brilliantly, rearing back as if struck. “Pinkie, seriously!?”

“Oh, no, with blankets silly!” Pinkie leaned back slightly, running a hoof over the soft fur of her belly. “Well, unless you really wantmy warm, soft body pressed up against you…” she murmured, snuggling into Twilight’s side.

Brain.twi has stopped responding. Venting steam. Rerouting coolant via face. The unicorn ducked her head, her blush threatening to outshine the sun. “I-I… um… oh, for the love of… quit it!” she yelled, weakly pushing at the other mare, trying to keep her laughter in check as Pinkie nuzzled against her neck. “You’re not a cat, Pinkie.”

“Hmm… meow?” Pinkie said, batting at the furry tuft on Twilight’s chest with one hoof.

“Cute,” Twilight deadpanned, then continued more softly, “please, Pinkie. I’ve got a lot to think about, and… I don’t want to hurt you, or any of my friends, by rushing into something I’m not ready for. That includes Celestia. I know you just want me to be happy, but I can’t deal with this right now. I-It’s not a no, but… I need time. Time I don’t have, argh…”

More subdued, Pinkie nodded against her neck. “I… all right, Twilight.”

There was a polite little sound from beyond the link. Something you need? I’m a little busy right now…

“Ah, yes, dear one. Please, discontinue that line of thought for the time being, unless you wish to have a repeat of yesterday’s temporal mishaps and earn Celestia’s ire.”

I’m… emitting magic? But that’s… A steady stream of magic was slowly diffusing out of her core, almost intangible to her magical sense, and she cut the flow. The magic, though depleted, snipped at her mental control like a cornered animal, but sluggishly complied. Her horn sparked dully, catching Pinkie’s attention.

“Oh! Are you okay? Do you need me to get off?”

Twilight raised one eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across her features. “I thought you already did?”

Pinkie giggled, her cheeks flushing a little red, “Hey, you got me! Getting better, Twilight!”

“Also, that’s a yes. I need to go see if Applejack would be willing to help with fixing the floor, and then head to Fluttershy’s to check on Spike.”

“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie carefully climbed off Twilight, who slowly, got to her hooves, shaking her head clear. She still felt woozy from the heavy magical expenditure, but it was beginning to feel a little better. Stretching her back out, she yawned, giving a tired little whine. Right. Need to write a list. She rummaged around in her desk for some paper, then grabbed a quill with her telekinesis, feverishly scribbling out a list. It ended up looking more like moonspeak than Equine, but it made sense to her at least. Hmm? Blearily she looked up at her friend, who shuffled her hooves awkwardly, doing a little hop almost like she needed the bathroom. It was a far cry from the Pinkie she knew. Throwing the list down atop her saddlebags, she moved closer, nuzzling the mare.

“Hey, Pinkie, don’t worry. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my friend.”

Feeling rather brave, she delicately pressed her lips to Pinkie’s, enjoying the way the pink mare’s face lit up, curly hair frizzing wildly. Nodding her head toward the front door, she clumsily strapped her saddlebags to her waist. With a little luck, she’d catch Applejack and Big Mac as they were finishing up the afternoon shift. It was roughly that moment that Pinkie noticed the clock in the hall.

“Oh my gosh! I’m late for Cheerilee’s disco preparations! Got to go, Twilight! See you later!”

She barely had time to turn her head as a pink blur shot past her, spinning her almost three hundred and sixty degrees as Pinkie somehow rocketed out of the door. Looking out at the setting sun, Twilight took a brief moment to ponder the meaning of her existence. ...Terminus, why does the universe hate me?

“We make a fine pair, dear one. ‘Tis a mystery to us both, I fear.”

I hear that... She rubbed her face tiredly, shifting her saddlebags. A brief waft of honeysuckle and she winced, the perfume almost cloying to her nose. What is it?

“Probably nothing, I hope, but one can never be too careful. Let’s move, dear Twilight. We should catch your friend when she and her brother are returning from the fields at your present walking pace.”

Hmm, all right. Let’s do our best to tip the scales back, then.

Author's Note

Finally... dear gods, I've been very lazy about writing. Still, it's longer than any of the others, and I had a lot left over for chapter twelve from the end of this. This is actually cut down, if you'll believe it. Was over 16k at one point, and I put my foot down. Proofread by the illustrious MidnightDancer, as usual. I feel sorry for the shit I put Twilight through, but it was either this or have her be completely OP, and that way lies the path of the black and red alicorn. I noped pretty hard out of that one. Anyway, hopefully the length will make up for my general absence from writing, as it's almost twice the length of my previous longest chapter.