The auditorium was still. Not a single whisper of breath or squeak of chair disturbed the electric silence that pervaded the massive room, and even the oaken walls themselves seemed hushed, refusing to creak or groan. The entire audience, some two thousand or so studious-looking mares and stallions, held their collective breath as they focused on a single, spotlighted platform on the center of the stage. On it sat a simple wooden podium, its body inscribed with the symbol of a star encircled by a twisting, circular rune, and a unicorn with a deep red coat and a thinning brown mane.
Said unicorn cleared his throat, adjusted his spectacles, and continued with the sentence that had held his audience in rapture. His voice, rich and soothing, rang out across the room, the amplification spell making it audible to even those in the back rows.
“And, for her outstanding contributions in the fields of arcane research, advanced magical theory, and ley-matrix analysis, I am pleased to announce the winner of this decade’s Starswirl the Bearded Grand Scholar Award...”
The unicorn paused, his gaze shifting almost imperceptibly to the right. There, behind the wall of stage right, stood Twilight Sparkle.
The lavender mare was wearing a simple dark blue dress and a nervous but elated smile, slowly shifting from hoof to hoof as she waited for her cue. She was nervous, yes, but that was to be expected. After all, it wasn’t every day you were chosen for the most prestigious academic award in equine history.
The announcer’s eyes locked with Twilight’s for the briefest of seconds, and the she felt her stomach give a giddy little flutter. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for. All her life, all her research, her neverending drive to improve, to innovate, to know more... it had all come to this. She closed her eyes, letting her uncertainty leech out through her body into the sturdy wooden floorboards beneath her hooves. It’s all right, Twilight. Nothing to be nervous about. You’ve got this.
“Miss Twilight Alexandria Sparkle!”
With a final, nervous shiver, Twilight blew a lingering strand of mane out of her eyes and walked onto the stage, smiling shyly at the torrent of applause the crowd sent her way. The assembled ponies stomped their hooves in an almost-deafening roar of approval, sending vibrations through the stage like a miniature earthquake.
The applause continued for several seconds more before the announcer quietly cleared his throat, causing the storm to die down as quickly as it had formed. He then turned to Twilight, smiling.
“Ms. Sparkle. You are one the great figureheads of this golden era of magical discovery and advancement. Your achievements are as numerous as they are admirable, and without your innovation, insight, and clearheadedness, I have no doubt the world of arcane study would be vastly different than it is today. Practical multiplanar telekinesis, the phase-shift spell, single-hoofedly mapping Equestria’s entire ley-line network... to say nothing of your extensive contributions to the theoretical side of—”
“P-please, Mr. Chalice,” Twilight stammered, her face a bright, blotchy pink under the lights of the stage, “you’re making me blush.” The wide grin on her face discredited the statement slightly, but Chalice just nodded.
“Forgive me. For a mare as accomplished and intelligent as yourself, it’s difficult not to—”
“Oh, stop.” Twilight’s blush grew even more pronounced, and the red unicorn chuckled.
“Again, I beg your pardon.” He gestured to the audience. “Now, before I present you with the award, is there anything you would like to say to the ponies assembled here today?”
“Well, I guess...”
Twilight’s stomach felt like it was doing full revolutions in her chest as she scanned the audience, eyes eventually settling on the upper balcony. There, she could see her parents, each watching her with matching expressions of joy and pride. Next to them was Spike, grinning and waving energetically as her eyes found his, and beside him, her friends.
She saw Rarity, looking around wide-eyed at the grandeur of the auditorium around her before snapping her gaze back to the stage with a guilty smile, and Applejack, giving a small wave with her forehoof before quickly withdrawing it after a glare from the white mare next to her. And there was Pinkie Pie, looking like she was trying desperately not to burst into ecstatic shrieks right then and there, and Rainbow Dash, hovering next to her and whispering something that caused both mares to giggle. Peeking out from just over the balcony’s edge was Fluttershy, mouth upturned in a quiet smile that somehow said just as much as a wide grin. They were all there, each happy and proud for her in their own way, and Twilight felt her heart swell. The only way that could’ve made everything any more perfect was if...
Twilight blinked in surprise as she saw the flash of indigo mane near the rear of the balcony, then felt her jaw drop as she realized its owner. Standing in the shadows of the curtains behind the balcony was none other than Princess Luna, watching the stage below with what almost could’ve been a smirk. As soon as she realized Twilight was staring at her, she quickly retreated, slipping back behind the curtains and fading away into the shadows like a spectre.
But where was Celestia? A quick glance around the hall revealed no sign of the other alicorn, and Twilight felt a small wriggle of concern begin to worm its way up through her stomach.
“Ahem,” Chalice murmured, glancing over at her.
Twilight suddenly became extremely aware that she had just been staring out at nothing for the past fifteen seconds. She felt her face becoming even warmer than it already was, and there was a flicker of magic as she cast the voice-amplification spell on herself and began her pre-rehearsed acceptance speech.
“Ah... sorry. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed. This is a such an honor...” She stopped, eyes flicking around the room once more, searching for a glimpse of white coat or flowing, iridescent mane. Finding none, she cleared her throat and continued.
“When I was just a little filly studying in Canterlot, there was only one thing I wanted: to learn as much as I possibly could.” Twilight paused, letting a faint smile creep onto her face. “Now, years later, I’m proud to say that I haven’t even come close.”
There was a chorus of quiet laughter from the audience, and with it, Twilight felt her nervousness melt away. She stepped forward on the stage, letting the crowd’s reactions buoy her confidence to new heights. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve learned so much since then, but I’ll always know that there’s going to be more. More to learn, more to see, more to discover. Some ponies might see that as overwhelming, but me?” She turned to the crowd, beaming, and they beamed back. Hundreds of renowned scholars, young and old, all staring, smiling, approving of her.
“I see it as another opportunity.” Twilight stepped back from the stage, bowing her head and feeling her stomach flutter again as another roar of applause thundered back in reply. “Thank you.”
She was particularly proud of that speech, if only because she had managed to condense it down from its original sixteen-page draft into less than one hundred words on Spike’s request. Although she had initially disagreed with the dragon’s assessment of it as ‘really boring’, Twilight realized that carrying on for a half-hour in front of an audience as prestigious as this one probably wouldn’t have helped her endear herself to them.
No, she thought, smiling to herself as she soaked in the crowd’s adoration like a warm bath. Brevity was definitely the way to go.
A few seconds later, the applause faded, and Twilight had to repress a filly-like squeak of excitement as Chalice’s horn begin to glow with a warm golden light. She had heard stories, of course, even seen pictures in papers and books, but to be here, standing under the stage lights as that famous symbol began to grow outward from the other unicorn’s horn, rippling and shimmering through the air...
It was almost too good to be true.
The golden glyph materialized fully in the air above Twilight and Chalice, shining brightly and clearly in the electric stillness of the massive room. It matched the symbol on the podium below: a complex-looking rune inset with a glowing five-pointed star.
“Now, Ms. Sparkle...”
It was time.
As Twilight watched, the star slowly began to turn, throwing shafts of sunset gold across the auditorium and onto the awestruck viewers below. Faster and faster it spun, rotating inside the rune, until finally, gently, oh ever so gently, it descended from the air, detaching itself from the rune surrounding it and floating slowly downward.
Twilight’s mouth opened in an inadvertent gasp as the star began to ripple and solidify, turning from golden light to solid metal before her eyes. In a matter of seconds, the projection had been replaced by a gleaming metal replica, attached to a base of dark stone that had materialized out of the air underneath it. Inscribed into the base in a flowing, golden script were three words, words that Twilight knew better than perhaps anything else she had ever learned.
“Scientia potentia est,” she breathed, her voice a reverent whisper. “Knowledge is power.”
Chalice smiled at her as the award hovered between them, then turned to the crowd.
“By the power vested in me as Royal Curator of the Starswirl the Bearded Academic Society, I hereby award Twilight Sparkle the title of Grand Scholar of Equestria.”
There was another ripple of golden light, and a second line appeared on the award’s base:
Presented to Twilight Sparkle on the Fourteenth of the Second Summer Moon in the year One-Thousand and Twenty-Eight.
There was another half-moment of silence, then the audience burst into a hoof-stomping ovation, somehow managing to outdo their previous performances in both energy and volume. There were even a few scattered cheers and whistles among the crowd, things that would normally be unheard of at an academic gathering of such calibre. But tonight, for so many reasons, was obviously quite different.
Twilight felt the warm pricks of tears in the corners of her eyes as she gently took the award with her magic, holding it tightly to her chest like a newborn foal. It’s not as heavy as the color would suggest, she thought, biting her lip slightly as she gauged the golden star’s relative weight against her magical grip. Maybe some kind of electrum alloy, or— she managed to catch herself before her thoughts wandered too far, and giggled from a combination of nerves and the sheer surrealness of it all. Once a scholar, always a scholar, I guess, she thought, smiling through the glistening film of happy tears that now covered her face.
Everything she had ever wanted had happened exactly how it should have. The room, the stage, the speech, her friends, even the award held against her chest... it was all perfect. Almost too perfect. Like a dream come true.
Twilight managed to choke out another “T-thank you,” to the audience before making her her way off the stage to thunderous applause.
Once behind the curtains of stage right, Twilight took the opportunity to wipe her eyes in earnest before making her way through the small, oak-paneled door that led backstage. There, she knew, her friends would be waiting for her, along with her parents, Spike, and...
Luna?
Twilight bit her lip in thought as she remembered the alicorn’s odd appearance in the shadows of the balcony. The princess had looked uncharacteristically playful in the glimpse Twilight had gotten of her, maybe even a bit mischievous. It was quite unlike the reserved, regal demeanor the unicorn had come to expect from her, and Twilight felt her interest and confusion begin to grow as she trotted through the backstage hallway.
Come to think of it, she thought, frowning slightly even as the Grand Scholar award floated next to. Did Luna even mention she would be here? Try as she might, Twilight couldn’t recall the princess ever telling her she would be willing to attend the ceremony, or Celestia, for that matter. Everything outside her immediate memory of the auditorium seemed blurred and indistinct, like she was viewing it through a faulty scrying lens.
It’s probably just the nerves, Twilight thought, slipping into her default setting of “rationalize everything until it makes sense or die trying.” Chemical imbalances in the brain can lead to a range of temporary symptoms including confusion, memory loss, et cetera— hold on, what was that?
A flash of midnight blue from around the hallway’s corner had caught her eye, causing Twilight to start slightly and squint closer. Was that— no, it couldn’t have been. Could it? She picked up her pace, award hovering lazily behind her as she turned the hallway’s corner.
There it was again. A flicker of blue from around the next corner, standing out bright against the oak-paneled walls of the dim hallway. This time, it was accompanied by the gentle clop of hoofsteps and... was that a giggle?
Twilight darted forward, hooking a hoof on the wall and swinging herself around. If Luna was here, why was she leading Twilight on a wild goose (or in this case, alicorn) chase through backstage? And, more importantly, where was she going?
Come to think of it, the unicorn thought, even as her hooves pounded against the floor in what had now become a full-fledged gallop, was this hallway here when I came up on stage? Like everything else she had tried to recall so far, the memory was hazy and indistinct, and after a few seconds of failed recollection, Twilight mentally shrugged her shoulders and pressed on. For some reason, the idea of spontaneously materializing hallways didn’t seem as important in the face of her current quest. She needed to find Luna. She wasn’t sure why, or how, but for some inexplicable reason, she did.
Twilight took another corner, wincing slightly as the Starswirl Award clunked against a nearby wall. She had been running her levitation magic on mental autopilot, and hadn’t noticed her miscalculation in time to correct it. Oh well, she thought. I’m sure Spike or I will be able to polish out whatever dents there are later—
She rounded another corner and stopped dead, nearly losing her magical grip on the award but catching it just in time. Just a few metres from where she stood, the hallway came to an abrupt end, with a worn, ancient-looking wooden door set into the wall in front of her. The brass handle seemed to shine with an almost otherworldly light even in the musty half-light of backstage, and Twilight reached out a hoof experimentally. The metal was warm, surprisingly so, and she felt a faint shiver make its way up her foreleg. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something in that shiver told her that wherever that door led, Luna was there, and that she needed to follow.
With only a moment of hesitation, Twilight grasped the doorknob in her forehoof and pulled it open.
Oh sweet Celestia what’s happening— was all Twilight managed to think before her entire being was consumed in a brilliant vortex of roaring, swirling color, the sheer intensity of it all forcing her mind into a kind of delirious half-stupor where the only thing she could do was simply close her eyes and be swept and feel. And oh, how she felt! A thousand different conflicting emotions raced through Twilight’s head, bringing all the accompanying sensations with them. She felt the triumph of victory, the soul-crushing sadness of loss, and the freezing terror of pursuit by things unknown all in the blink of an eye. The vortex swirled and rippled, folding in on itself in ways that she struggled to comprehend and finally gave up on as the colors and lights and emotions tore through her like waves on an endless beach as she twisted through the air and her heart was racing and her mind was burning and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take—
And then, quite suddenly, everything stopped.
The vortex shifted, coalescing downward and inward until it had formed back in to something with at least some semblance of mundanity: a small room, its windows bedecked with rich curtains of dark blue silk and looking out on an endless expanse of inky space and glittering stars.
Twilight felt her hooves touch down on something soft and slowly began to take in her new surroundings, her mind still spinning from her unexpected journey to... wherever that had been.
The room’s carpet was blue as well, and as plush and rich as the curtains, if its feel underhoof was anything to go by. In front of her and to the left was a couch, though Twilight somehow felt the term “love seat” would be more appropriate considering its size. It matched the rest of the room in both color and grandeur, with comfortable-looking cushions and arms made of dark, fine-looking wood.
The room’s center was dominated by the largest piece of furniture in it: a massive four-poster bed, complete with a shimmering canopy of what Twilight suspected was the same silk that had been used in the curtains. The material seemed to sparkle as she examined it, with tiny specks of gleaming silver twinkling amidst the folds of indigo like the night sky had been captured and sewn into terrestrial existence by some jealous deity.
Suddenly, the silk shifted, and the canopy was gently brushed aside with a flicker of dark blue magic to reveal a set of neatly-made pillows and blankets, each adorned with silver crescent moons. Sitting atop it, her hooves folded in an uncharacteristically casual position, was Princess Luna.
“Hello, Twilight,” she said, smiling. “Please, sit down.” She motioned to the couch beside the bed. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“You... have?” Twilight said, glancing around the room with an uncertain frown. “Er, Princess, if you don’t mind me asking... where am I? Why am I here? And what in Equestria was that?” She gestured behind her with a hoof, where the ancient-looking door lay closed and mercifully devoid of any senses-shattering vortexes.
Luna laughed, and the sound of it somehow put Twilight’s heart at ease. “You mean you have not— no, forgive me. Expecting anypony, even one with a mind of your calibre, to understand immediately would be foolish.” She shifted on the bed, then, noticing Twilight was still standing in the middle of the carpet, slipped off it and rose to her full, impressive, height. “You are dreaming, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight blinked. “I—what?” She had expected quite a few possible responses from the princess, ranging from the sensible to the outlandish. That had not been one of them.
“As we speak, you are currently asleep in your bed. The award ceremony, as heartfelt as it was, was nothing but a figment of your imagination, though I’m sure it will someday become a reality.”
Twilight’s mind raced to accommodate the new information, attempting to slot it into place around what she already knew. The auditorium, her friends, Chalice, even the feeling of the award against her skin... had it really all been a dream?
The award!
Twilight’s gaze flicked around the room, combing every inch for some sign of the metal star before slowly settling back on Luna, her eyes now alight with curiosity.
“Where’s the Starswirl the Bearded Award?” she asked, casting her mind back to her journey through the door. She had been sure she had a grip on it when she had made her way through the door, but after that...
“Lost in the Dreamscape, I’m afraid,” replied Luna, gesturing again to the door. “Even a brief visit is enough to shed one of any lingering scraps of their imagination. It was absorbed back into the winding, twisting, river of all of Equestria’s collective thoughts and desires."
“The Dreamscape?” Twilight’s confusion was steadily growing, but it only spurred her natural instinct for learning and discovery on that much more. “Is that what those colors were? And am I dreaming now? Wait, if I’m dreaming, and you’re here, does that make you a part of my imagination? Then why am I asking you questions?” She began to pace back and forth across the room, muttering under her breath. “Think, Twilight. If my dreams are becoming self-aware, what implications does that—”
“Twilight,” Luna said quietly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of command that make Twilight’s skin prickle and almost forced her gaze back to the Princess of the Night. She saw that Luna was smiling again and felt some of her apprehension fade away. “You have much to learn, but that is, after all, the reason I am here. Now, before I answer your questions...” She pointed again over to the couch, settling down in it with a faint rustle of fabric and beckoning with a hoof. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss, and I imagine standing up for all of it would get quite tiring.”
Twilight approached the seat nervously, her mind still humming with a thousand different trains of thought. She still had next to no idea what was going on, and ignorance was one of the few feelings that Twilight Sparkle was very, very unaccustomed to. It was not, she had discovered, a pleasant sensation.
Twilight wriggled her way onto the couch, squirming slightly until she had found a comfortable, if somewhat odd-looking position: sitting not-quite-upright against the back cushions, with her hind legs curled under her and one of her forehooves draped over the couch’s arms. The cushions felt as comfortable as they had looked, and Twilight had to repress a contented sigh as she sunk into them.
Luna sat opposite from her, the alicorn’s larger frame requiring her to curl her body into a more traditional pose. Her forehooves were crossed a hairsbreadth away from Twilight’s, and the unicorn started slightly as she realized the princess wasn’t wearing any of her usual regalia. The gilded horseshoes and crescent-moon pendant were absent, replaced by unbroken expanses of smooth, dark coat. Luna’s presence was utterly relaxed, yet she somehow still retained some ancient aura of otherworldliness. Twilight felt a slight shiver run through her body as she looked at her. Celestia would never do this, she thought, would never be this... comfortable. The realization simultaneously calmed her and agitated her for reasons she couldn’t explain, and Twilight had to force her mind back into focus as Luna spoke again.
“Regarding your first question: the plane you traversed to get here was the Dreamscape, the realm of infinite thoughts and endless desires. It is the raw, untamed wild from which all dreams are forged. Unfortunately for mortals such as yourself, even a brief visit can be quite, er, disorienting. I apologize for forcing you to enter it, although it was necessary for your arrival.”
Twilight nodded. “Disorienting” was at best an understatement for what she had experienced beyond the door, but it was accurate nonetheless. “So, that place... that’s where dreams come from? All of them?” she asked, frowning. Each of Luna’s answers only seemed to present more questions, and while Twilight was usually a very inquisitive mare, she still preferred to have her queries answered before receiving new ones.
“That would be a way to think of it, yes,” replied Luna. “In its most basic form, it represents the collective subconscious of Equestria. Its intricacies go far beyond that, of course, but for now, that is a suitable description. Now, your next question?”
“Well... if that was the place dreams come from... then where am I now? And are you really Princess Luna? Or am I still dreaming, and— oh, well obviously I’m dreaming, that’s not what I meant, but—” Luna’s upraised hoof silenced any further self-correction.
“Where you are now is rather difficult to explain,” she said, looking out the window at the twinkling stars beyond. Twilight followed her gaze, and for the first time noticed that the stars seemed to be moving, slowly drifting through the void like glassy bubbles in an endless ocean. “You are dreaming, yes, but you are also in a sort of in-between: not quite in your own mind, but not quite in anypony else’s. This room is a special plane all its own, specially constructed by me for a specific purpose.”
“And what purpose is that?” Twilight asked, feeling a small twinge of apprehension run through her as the words left her lips. She hadn’t remembered Luna normally being this cryptic.
The alicorn smiled again. “Why, to teach you, of course.”
“Teach me? Teach me what?”
“Magic comes in many forms,” replied Luna. “Some tangible, some not, but all governed by the same basic laws that you are no doubt very familiar with. But there is still one area in which you are still very much a novice, your prodigious skill notwithstanding.”
Twilight nodded slowly as she realized the direction the conversation was going. “You’re teaching me... magic?” But what do I need to learn that I can’t already find out myself? She almost flushed in embarrassment as the insolent thought flitted through her mind, but a second later, she found her answer.
“Not just any magic,” said Luna, her face suddenly alight with a keen spark of enthusiasm. “One of the most ancient, complex and revered arcane disciplines in existence. The magic of dreams.”
Dreams? What is she— Twilight’s internal monologue ground to an abrupt and unexpected halt as Luna leapt up from the couch, her mane billowing out behind her in a sudden burst of energy. “Watch,” she said, her voice humming with an almost foal-like excitement, and turned to the wall beside her. Twilight couldn’t remember seeing the princess this enthusiastic about anything, not even during the Nightmare Night fiasco all those months ago. Whatever this is, she seems to think it’s important, she thought. But what—
Her train of thought was once again derailed as Luna did something that, by all the natural laws the Twilight had grown up studying, observing, and dutifully obeying, should have been impossible.
How in the name of Celestia...
The alicorn’s hoof was inside the wall, the once-solid looking indigo flatness of the barrier becoming a rippling, shimmering curtain as Luna’s foreleg traced a lazy circle inside of it. A second later, she retracted the limb, and there was a sudden, whispering wind as the material of the wall stuck, pulling towards Luna’s hoof like a particularly sticky string of taffy. She flicked her foreleg, and the tendril snapped, making the wall spring back into its normal, rectangular shape and leaving her with an amorphous blue blob around the size of a pony’s head.
The strange mass began to shift, sliding and folding back in on itself as it hovered gently in the air in front of Luna. The alicorn’s expression was one of utter concentration, and Twilight had to consciously force herself to not let out an astonished gasp as the strange globule of matter started to crystallize, slowly forming into a large, glassy sphere. A few seconds later, it had solidified, and this time Twilight did gasp as a miniature web of glowing white lines flowed outward from its center, twisting and coiling around each other until they had reached the glossy orb’s edges. There was a sudden, brilliant flare of white light, and when the afterimage had faded from Twilight’s eyes, she gasped again.
In front of her was a perfect, slowly-rotating model of the Equestrian starscape, with accurately-modeled constellations and softly glowing replicas of each and every nebula and galaxy. Twilight stared at them, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open in an expression of unabashed awe. For the moment, the fact she was in a dream escaped her, and the glowing orb in front of her was nothing but an object of untold and impossible wonder.
“Impressive, is it not?” asked Luna, looking quite pleased with both her work and Twilight’s reaction. “In the waking world, everything must conform to the same set of immutable rules. Even magic, as far-reaching and mysterious as it is, can be traced back to a series of fundamental concepts that, no matter how long we wait, will never change. But here, in dreams...” She smiled again, and Twilight saw another brief flash of childlike exhilaration in the princess’ eyes. “Here, reality is malleable.”
Luna traced a forehoof through the air, sending a line of iridescent ripples through the empty space as if to illustrate her point, then looked back to Twilight. “Through history, all the greatest mages and scholars have honed their mastery over the Sunset Realms just as they perfected their skills while awake. Buron the Seer, Twintail the Wise, Orion, Flameseeker, even a certain...” Luna’s smile widened teasingly. “Starswirl the Bearded... they all received my guidance and blessing in becoming Duskwalkers, dream mages of the highest order and incredible power. And now, after a thousand years of exile, I believe it is time for the old traditions to be upheld again.” Her eyes locked with Twilight’s, and the unicorn felt her skin prickle as she sensed the ancient, unchecked intensity in Luna’s gaze. They were the eyes of something more than a pony, something in its element and ready and willing and hungry to prove itself.
“I admit I have been observing you these past few weeks,” Luna said, a slight blush spreading across her face at the confession. “Your latent imagination and magical prowess alone already place you far ahead of most of my previous pupils. Dreamwalking alone can take many years to master fully, but I am confident that, with appropriate training, you will be a Duskwalker within a year at most.”
Twilight started slightly as the full implications of the princess’ words hit her, breaking the air of quiet electricity that had kept her enthralled before. “Wait. You were watching me... in my dreams?” She struggled to her tone relatively calm as her mind began to flick through the previous month’s nights, trying to recall any signs of the princess or particularly embarrassing moments that could’ve been brought to light. But no matter how hard she strained her memory, the images seemed to slip and melt away as she found them, as dreams are wont to do. “Isn’t that kind of... intruding on somepony’s privacy?”
Luna’s blush intensified, throwing a slight tinge of pink across the soft blue of her cheeks. “As the Princess of the Night, it is my duty to ensure the wellbeing of all my subjects, conscious or not. I do, however make a point not to intrude into anypony’s dreams, directly or otherwise, unless I feel they are in dire need of my intervention.” She blinked, eyes suddenly growing distant as if searching for a memory, then smiled. “As a matter of fact, my most recent planar traversal was to the dreams of none other than your young friend Scootaloo. She was having a rather debilitating problem with her nightmares, and felt the need to prove her strength both to her idol and herself. I merely... assisted in that goal.” By the time Luna had finished her sentence, the blush had faded, and she drew herself up to her full height, regal demeanor restored once again.
“So you see, Twilight Sparkle, what I do is neither nefarious, malicious, nor voyeuristic in any sense of the word. Just as Celestia addresses the many grievances of the populace in her court, I do the same in mine.” A sudden impish gleam sparked in her eyes, and she leaned in closer to Twilight, her voice an unnecessarily-conspiratorial whisper. “Although personally, I find the Court of the Night to be much less abundant with insufferable nobles, and much quieter to boot. I suppose it is a ‘perk of the job’, if you will.”
Twilight giggled, even as Luna did the same. She couldn’t help herself. Something about the contrast between the alicorn’s still slightly-antiquated method of speech, combined with her mischievous streak and regal appearance... it put her at ease, moreso than any of her conversations with Celestia. She loved the other alicorn like a mother, of course, but Twilight couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this relaxed around her, at least not very recently. Of course, cuddling under her mentor’s wing as a young filly had obviously been different, but that had been then. This feeling of casual, breezy calm was something else entirely.
“So, Twilight Sparkle,” said Luna, extending a forehoof in what could have been a greeting, but had gravity of something much more significant, “will you accept my offer? Will you join the venerated ranks of the Duskwalkers and rediscover the ancient secrets of the Sunset realms?” She paused, looking thoughtful, before continuing, “If it is any incentive, know that I would be extremely honored to have a pupil as bright and talented as yourself, and all our training sessions would be carried out in slip-planes such as this one, as not to detract from any of your other activities during the day.”
Twilight bit her lip, lost in thought. The princess’ offer was certainly enticing, but there still seemed something slightly off about the entire thing. She couldn’t put her hoof on it, but there was the nagging sensation that there was more to the proposal than met the eye, or in this case, the ear.
Luna was still looking at her expectantly, and Twilight’s mind raced as she struggled to come a suitably attention-deflecting response.
“Um... does Celestia know about this?” she blurted, realizing even as the words left her mouth how feeble the question seemed. Great job, Twilight, she berated herself, just great. Now she’ll think you’re a little foal that needs the approval of her alicorn godmother to do anything.
Luna’s face remained relatively impassive as she considered the question, either disregarding or unaware of Twilight’s inward-focused irritation. A moment later, she responded.
“My sister is aware of my desire to train a new generation of Duskwalkers, and has expressed her support for it, but as for you specifically?” Luna paused, and Twilight saw the tiniest flicker of what could’ve been guilt mar her face for a blink of an eye. “No, she is not. I was hoping we may have been able to keep it that way for a while longer, but if you would rather ask her consent—”
“No!” Twilight said, the objection leaving her lips quite a bit louder than was necessary. She saw Luna raise an eyebrow and felt her cheeks growing hot. “I mean, um, n-no, that’s fine.” You’re not a spoiled little Canterlot filly anymore, Twilight, she thought. You’re a big mare now. Make your own decisions.
Luna nodded. “Thank you. As much as I value Sister’s input on many topics, I do not think she would take very well to her “Faithful Student” receiving private tutelage from none other than her own sister." She chuckled, though it sounded slightly forced. “Why, she might even see it as an attempt to ‘steal you away from her’, as silly as that may seem.” Luna shook her head slightly, as if to clear away any lingering thoughts of doubt, and said, “But you are avoiding the question, Twilight Sparkle. Would you prefer if I returned later, once you have more time to consider my offer?” There was an almost imperceptible hint of something in her voice, an emotion Twilight couldn’t quite place.
Well, let’s see, she thought, the rationalization portion of her brain kicking into overdrive as she considered her prospects. On one hoof, we have the chance to study an entirely new branch of magic under an amazing, mysterious, intelligent mare... oh, what in Equestria am I doing?
Twilight looked up at Luna, her mouth slowly widening in an broad grin. “I accept, Princess Luna,” she said, taking the alicorn’s hoof and shaking it, feeling her skin tingle at even the simple contact. “Teach me everything you can. I want to learn.” A Duskwalker! A master of an entirely new school of magic, one that hasn’t even been used for over a thousand years! The more she thought about it, the more giddy with excitement Twilight became until she was practically forcing herself not to start hopping up and down in front of the Princess of the Night. Oh, I can’t wait!
Luna returned her smile, placing a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder before replying. “I am honored to have you as my student. Now, I ask you get some rest, both now and in the waking hours. Our sessions shall begin tomorrow, and while I am sure you will find them educational, the mortal desire for rest has a nasty habit of sneaking up on those who fail to properly control it.”
She motioned to the door, and Twilight reached a hoof toward it, no longer apprehensive. The Dreamscape seemed to loom before her even through the sturdy-feeling exterior of the door, but this time, she felt no apprehension. Instead, she welcomed the stomach-fluttering feeling of the vast and glorious unknown, the infinite cascade of things she had yet to experience, yet to learn, yet to discover.
“Sleep well, Twilight Sparkle,” said Luna, and after that, everything became a blur.
Twilight bolted awake in her bed, blinking a pair of bleary eyes several times at the morning sunlight streaming through her open window. She slowly looked around her room, taking in the familiar surroundings, before her mind began to piece together the shards of her odd nocturnal visitation.
Was it really all a dream? she thought, brow wrinkling as she recalled what the imaginary Luna had said. “Our sessions shall begin tomorrow”... maybe it wasn’t after all. And if it wasn’t... a sudden thrill ran through her as she remembered her agreement and the alicorn’s promise. Then I, Twilight Sparkle, am going to be a Duskwalker. Humming happily to herself, the unicorn vaulted herself out of bed, telekinetically grabbing a hairbrush off of a nearby dresser and quickly sweeping her mane into a passable version of “neat and tidy”. Ignoring a gently-slumbering Spike, she threw the room’s door open and bounded down the stairs, eager to find something, anything to occupy the rest of now incredibly dull-seeming day.
It was 7:30 A.M. at the beginning of a beautiful morning in Ponyville, and, for the first time in years, Twilight Sparkle couldn’t wait to go back to bed.
Twilight collapsed onto her bed with a groan, struggling to keep her traitorous eyelids from closing of their own accord right then and there. Her coat was dirty and damp with sweat, and her mane hung in a limp, lifeless tangle across her pillow . The unicorn severely doubted she even had the energy to stand, let alone get herself to the shower, so she settled instead for an exhausted sigh.
Mental note: when Applejack asks you for help with a ‘few quick chores around the farm’, make sure you know what in the name of Celestia you’re getting yourself into. She rolled over onto her front, wincing at the chorus of sharp pops as her her vertebrae shifted back into place. ‘Magic spoils the Zap-Apple crop’, my hoof, she thought, rolling into a position that would better soothe her sorely aching muscles. Within seconds, Twilight felt a fuzzy warmth begin to spread through her body, and barely a minute of slow, gentle breathing later, she was sound asleep.
With an indecipherable cacophony of thousands of overlapping sounds, Twilight burst back into the Dreamscape, eyes wide and mind spinning at the infinite vortex of thoughts and emotions. The colors swirled around her, bringing with them tiny snippets of thousands of sleeping ponies’ fears and desires, and she squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth and waiting for the mental assault to subside.
The time that passed could have been a matter of seconds or a matter of centuries, but eventually, Twilight felt the chaos around her begin to shift, rippling and warping into a more comprehensible form. She felt her hooves touch something soft, just as they had the night before, but this time, there was a strange, feathery gentleness to it, a sensation that had been absent the night before.
Twilight opened her eyes, and they quickly grew large in an expression of pure wonderment.
She was standing on the crest of a gently rolling hill, looking up at an infinite ceiling of shining stars and dusky sky. The moon was there too, a gleaming milk-white pearl watching elegantly over her domain and basking the grass under her hooves in a muted silver glow. The stalks seemed to stretch on forever, waving lazily in an unseen wind and continuing past the horizon.
Twilight may very well have stayed standing on that hill forever had she not been distracted by a sudden disturbance in front of her. It was as if someone had spilled an inkwell onto the air itself, throwing a steadily spreading blotch of darkness across the empty space. As she watched, the shadows began to coalesce into a familiar, alicorn-shaped figure. A few moments later, Princess Luna stood before her, mane billowing in the same insubstantial wind as the grass. In the ghostly half-light of the moon, she managed to look even more mysterious and imposing than she had the night before, and Twilight felt her coat prickle as a wave of goosebumps rolled down her spine. That same sensation of shivery, electric awareness she had felt before had returned in force, bringing with it a slight quickening of breath and the heady thrum of blood in her veins. She felt relaxed, almost sleepily so, but also intensely conscious of every rippling blade of grass, every gleaming star, and every slight motion the mare in front of her made. It was an odd feeling, though not an entirely unpleasant one.
“Good evening, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, a faint smile tracing across her lips as she saw the unicorn’s awestruck expression. “I assume you find our new training accommodations satisfactory?”
“Luna... this... this is amazing,” Twilight breathed, staring up at the sky. Something in the pattern of the stars looked familiar, and she started slightly as she realized she could recognize the constellations. There was the Big Horseshoe, the Wilting Tree, Ursa, the Great Square of Pegasus, and too many others to count.
Well of course the constellations are going to be accurate, she thought, mentally giving herself a light smack on the back of the head. I mean, she is the Princess of the Night, after all. She probably knows more about the stars than anypony else, not to mention the fact—
“So, then. Shall we begin?”
Luna’s question snapped Twilight back to the present, and she nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes, of course!”
The alicorn’s smile grew. “I am glad to see you are as eager to learn as ever, Twilight.” She cleared her throat softly before continuing. “Now, for our first lesson, I thought we would begin with a small refresher. Could you please recite the three fundamental laws of magic?”
Twilight nodded again and began to recite from memory:
“The first law of magic, known as the Law of Distribution, states that there is a theoretically infinite amount of latent magic distributed throughout the universe’s ley-line network. Although we know the universe is constantly expanding, and by extension, the ley-lines, the base amount of magical energy doesn't change. It's just evenly redistributed.” She took a deep breath, glancing quickly at Luna for any sign of approval. The alicorn’s face remained relatively impassive, and Twilight mentally shook herself before continuing. You’re fine, Twilight. You’ve spent Celestia-only-knows how long memorizing these laws, after all. Just focus on the recitation.
“The second law, known as the Law of Conduction, states that any vessel capable of storing or transferring arcane energy has an upper limit of what it can conduct, known as its ‘Spark Threshold’ as a tribute to its inventor, Bright Spark. If the vessel’s Spark Threshold is exceeded, the magic will overload and react violently with whatever terrestrial matter the vessel contains. In unicorns, this is commonly known as a ‘burnout’, and is usually characterized by a sudden, violent eruption of magical energy from the horn, followed by blackening of the horntip, severe nausea, and exhaustion.” Twilight paused, smiling ruefully as a sudden memory occurred to her. “I’ve had more than a few experiences with that particular one.”
“Oh?” Luna replied, raising her eyebrows. “In all honesty, I cannot say I am surprised, but I would think you of all ponies would understand your magical limits.”
“Oh, I do. Well, mostly,” Twilight said, looking slightly sheepish. “But I did want to conduct some additional research on the possibility of expanding my Spark Threshold, and, well... you can probably guess what happened from there.”
Luna laughed softly. “I should have guessed. In any case, please continue.”
“Right. The third law of magic is the Law of Conservation, which actually states two things. Firstly, that magic, like any other form of energy, cannot be created or destroyed, and in this case, can’t change state either. It just relocates. Secondly, whenever any amount of magic is forced into a vessel, it will always take the path of least resistance, or the highest amount of conductivity. Unicorn horns contain a unique protein that has a relatively high Spark Threshold, which is why our magic leaves us through our horns,” Twilight finished, her ears flicking up in pride. Despite the fact that she hadn’t so much as mentioned them for several years, she had still managed to recite all three laws perfectly, and while asleep to boot.
“Impressive, Twilight Sparkle,” said Luna, her mouth curling in a vaguely amused expression. “Of course, you being, well, yourself, it would be foolish to assume that you would forget such basic and fundamental aspects of magical study.”
Twilight felt her heart give another unexpected jump at the praise, as if a hungry rabbit had suddenly been set loose inside her chest. She fought the sensation down, irritated with her body’s insistent efforts to distract her from the task at hand. This doesn’t even make sense, she thought, seething inwardly even as Luna continued to speak. If anything, my subconscious should be less affected by physical sensations, not more. And what’s wrong with me, anyway? Every time she says anything it’s like my entire system forgets what’s supposed to do for a second. I wonder if it’s possible to develop a neurological disorder in a drea—
“A pity we will have no need of them.”
So absorbed was Twilight in her own thoughts that it took her a second to process what the princess had said, and another to formulate a reply.
“Er, what?” Surely Luna hadn’t just said what Twilight thought she had heard. Not needingthe basic, fundamental concepts of magic while learning magic itself... the princess might as well have suggested they had no need for gravity.
“As much as I admire your memory and knowledge of terrestrial laws, the magic in the Sunset Realms works by a vastly different set of rules. Well, I suppose calling them ‘rules’ is rather generous,” Luna said, her amused smile growing wider. “In all honesty, they are closer to suggestions.”
Twilight took a series of deep breaths, letting the realization that absolutely none of her previous training would be useful sink into her mind like a frozen spike. “All... all right,” she said shakily, the silvery grass underneath her hooves suddenly feeling much less stable than it had a moment ago. “What was the point of me reciting them then?”
“I was merely curious. While the laws themselves may not apply, a healthy knowledge of magic is nevertheless a trait to be admired. Now, to begin.” She stepped back, and the air in front of her began to twist and ripple, eventually forming into a greyish, solid-looking mass: a large boulder, almost comical in its mundanity. Twilight ran an experimental hoof over it, eyebrows arching slightly as she felt the smooth, hard surface. The boulder remained inanimate. She frowned.
“Er, Princess—” Twilight’s confused query was silenced by the other mare’s gently outstretched hoof.
“Please, call me Luna. By now, I would say we have transcended the simple relationship between ruler and subject, hm?” She spoke with a smile, but the words seemed careful. Measured. “And, if you will forgive me for anticipating your question, the object of your first lesson is to make this” —she gestured to the boulder— “disappear.”
Twilight nodded quickly, fighting down that strange stomach-jumping sensation and the blush that was rapidly spreading across her cheeks. “Oh. O-of course.” By Celestia, this was irritating! She made a mental note to do some additional research on the Dreamscape and the possibility of mental trauma when she was awake before remembering her question. “Anyway, Pri— um, Luna... isn’t this a little... abrupt? I mean, isn’t there some theory we should learn first? Some fundamental concepts? Anything?” The question was tinged with desperation. Is this really how I’m supposed to learn? Just jumping right into it?
Luna looked bemused for a moment, then nodded slowly her smile growing. “Old habits die hard, I see. I suppose a small amount of lecture would not hurt, although you will soon see why I planned the lesson as I did.” She cleared her throat, then leapt atop the boulder as if it were a stage. Twilight almost giggled at the unexpected display of childlike energy, but the urge quickly faded as Luna began to speak.
“The most powerful and important force in the Sunset Realms is not magic, as many would assume. Nor is it mental fortitude or acuity, though they certainly have their uses both in the Dreamscape and out. No, the most influential power a Duskwalker can have at their command...” She paused, her eyes sparkling in the starlight with that same strange energy, an enthusiasm somehow both ancient and young. “...is belief.”
Twilight raised an incredulous eyebrow, but before she had a chance to voice her confusion, Luna had already continued. “Yes, Twilight Sparkle. Is it really so surprising? The Dreamscape is not a realm of absolutes or fundamentals. It is a realm of possibilities, ever-changing and ever-shifting. The more conviction you have in your power and intent, the greater the likelihood that it will become reality. Even the dullest of minds can still become great Duskwalkers, simply because the strength of their belief outweighs their lack of skill. But you...” She looked at Twilight, and the unicorn swallowed as the now-familiar shivery sensation repeated itself across her body. She was blushing again, she could feel it, and with it came yet another stab of irritation. Focus, she thought. Just ignore the way she looks at you, like you’re the most amazing powerful pony to ever exist, and she—
“Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight blinked in shock as she realized she hadn’t been paying any attention to what Luna had been saying for at least several seconds. “Uh, yes! I-I mean, I think I understand,” she stammered, her cheeks growing infuriatingly hotter as she attempted to hide her gaffe. “So, all I need to do make the boulder disappear is believe that it’s not there?” There was still a small amount of skepticism in the question, but Luna appeared not to notice neither it nor Twilight’s steadily increasing levels of embarrassment.
“Precisely,” the alicorn said, nodding in approval. She stepped off the boulder, backing away several feet before motioning to Twilight with a forehoof. “Now, unless there are any other burning theoretical questions...” She smiled teasingly. “May I suggest we begin?”
Twilight nodded in return, setting her jaw and focusing her gaze on the mass of grey before her. She closed her eyes, imagining the air around the boulder rippling, shifting, then finally pulling inward to consume it. The image was clear in her mind: a hilltop of rippling, silvery grass, swaying softly in the invisible breeze and utterly devoid of anything but the alicorn mare standing beside it. Everything was realized in crystal clarity: the movement of the stalks, the muted, dusky blue of Luna’s coat, the way her lips curled in that playful, teasing smirk and her eyes shone in the starlight...
Twilight opened her eyes.
The boulder remained.
The unicorn sighed, prodding the stone with a forehoof as if the contact would force it to obey her. Unsurprisingly, it refused, and she felt a flicker of irritation before her attention was once again diverted to the Princess of the Night.
“An admirable attempt, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said reassuringly. “Do not be disheartened. To expect anypony, even one with your capacity, to master dreamcrafting on their very first attempt would be foolish. Try again whenever you are ready.”
And so she tried.
And tried.
And tried.
And tried again.
Seventeen failed attempts later, Twilight’s initial supply of enthusiasm was running dangerously low. Try as she might have, the boulder hadn’t so much as twitched in the indeterminate amount of time she had spent trying to unravel its existence. All right. Again, she thought, exhaling slowly through her nostrils and shooting a resentful glare at the offending rock. You can do this.
She closed her eyes for the umpteenth time and concentrated, imagining the boulder simply fading out of existence, slowly melting into nothingness as if it had never been there. When I open my eyes, the boulder will be gone, she thought, unconsciously gritting her teeth in exertion as she forced all other thoughts out of her mind. If it’s been done before by mages less powerful than I am, I’ll obviously be able to do it. That’s just simple logic. Now, when I count to three and open my eyes, it will be gone. One... two...
“Twilight.”
Twilight’s eyes flickered open again, and the spike of irritation returned. She had been so close! Why had Luna interrupted her?
“What?” she snapped, before realizing what she had said and throwing her forehooves over her mouth with a mortified squeak. “Er, I mean, sorry! What is it?” Fantastic job, Twilight, she thought, seething inwardly. Snapping at the immortal goddess who’s taking the time to personally tutor you. That’ll go over well.
Thankfully, Luna seemed not to take offense at the unicorn’s outburst. Her smile had returned, that same quiet, wandering expression of vague amusement, and Twilight felt her annoyance fade in the face of it. “You are rationalizing this far more than is necessary. I realize you are an extremely logical pony, but in the dreamscape, logic is unfortunately an enemy rather than an ally. Let your feelings guide you, not your mind.”
Twilight frowned. “How did you know I was rationalizing? You... you can’t read my mind or anything, can you?” she asked, her curiosity for the moment outweighing her self-frustration.
Luna shook her head. “I cannot. No, it was merely a lucky guess, albeit a fairly educated one. Typically, dream magic does not require the gritting of one’s teeth or the biting of one’s lip.” She placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Perhaps a short break would—”
“No! I can— I mean, no thank you,” Twilight said, shivering slightly from a combination of nerves and the tingles of electricity Luna’s touch was sending through her. “I think I get it now.” Now if only I could get why I turn into a shivering, quivering filly on her first day of magic kindergarten whenever she so much as looks at me. She sighed quietly, hoping that the princess couldn’t hear. Get a grip on yourself, Sparkle.
“As you wish,” replied Luna, withdrawing the hoof and stepping back towards the boulder. Twilight shook her head slightly, clearing away any lingering mental distractions before closing her eyes once more. This time, she let her mind drift, never focusing on any one thing for more than a matter of seconds. Don’t rationalize it. Just close your eyes and feel your way through. Whatever that means.
As Twilight sat there, feeling nothing but the faint tickle of grass against her fur and the almost-real sensation of the cool night air, her thoughts strayed to Luna. The alicorn’s image had crept into her mind unbidden, and now it seemed to stick, clinging to the edges of her mind’s eye with a strange, gentle insistence. Twilight imagined her standing there, just as she had before. Tall, proud, mane billowing behind her in some ancient, ethereal wind, with her soft, downy wings folded gently at her sides...
Twilight felt a flush spreading across her cheeks yet again, but she ignored it, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge any of the mismatched impulses her body was forcing upon her mind. She drew in a breath, letting her thoughts stray ever farther. She imagined the princess looking at her, her lips parted in that now-familiar half-smile, simultaneously regal and and oh-so-slightly mischievous. She saw that fire in her eyes, that burning, timeless energy that seemed to cross space and time and the depths of the universe itself to strike something hidden deep within her, something that pulsed in perfect cadence with the unsung rhythm of their shared glances and laughs and smiles. Every fiber of her being hummed, electric and alive, and for some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt at peace.
You can do this, she though, a smile playing across her face. You will do this. You’ll do it— she exhaled, etting the quiet energy in the air swirl around her and coil in her chest— because she believes in you.
Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes.
Luna’s stared back.
For a fraction of a moment, neither of them said a word, gazes locked across the still night air. Then, slowly, Twilight began to realize what was in front of her. Or rather, what wasn’t.
“I did it,” she breathed, the words rolling reverently off her tongue and dropping into the silence like stones disturbing the stillness of a pond. “I... I did it!” She spoke louder this time, her face flushed in a heady combination of victory and something else she had no words for, something that seemed to leap up into her throat as Luna nodded, smiling proudly with the light in her eyes burning bright in the glow of the stars.
“You most certainly did, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, stepping closer to the unicorn across the space where the boulder had once stood. “Do you realize...” she paused for a moment, looking contemplative, then continued: “I would not normally say this for fear of encouraging a student’s ego to foolhardy, perhaps even dangerous heights, but I know from firsthoof experience that you are a very humble pony. Therefore, I will say I am extraordinarily impressed by you completing in a single night a task that took even my most talented students a fortnight as a minimum. Dreamcrafting is no mean feat,” she said, gesturing to the empty patch of grass where the boulder had once stood. Twilight noticed that the stalks were perfectly upright again, swaying lazily in the nonexistent breeze just as they had before with no sign of being crushed or disheveled. It was as if the stone had not just been removed, but had never existed in the first place. “In truth, I was fully expecting you to be unsuccessful, and to spend the majority of the lesson discussing mental techniques and concentration. I underestimated you. Greatly, as a matter of fact.” Luna chuckled, hiding the gesture behind a forehoof in a way that made Twilight grin back almost without realizing it. “I hope not to make that same mistake again.”
Twilight nodded, letting Luna’s words slowly soak in like a cat basking in a shaft of midafternoon sunlight. Humble or not, she certainly had no problem with a bit of praise now and then. And if the pony doing it just happened to be her wise, mysterious and powerful new mentor, all the better.
Twilight’s smile grew. “Thank you, Luna,” she said, struggling to keep an almost Pinkie-like squeak of happiness from escaping the depths of her throat. “I... I couldn’t have done it without you.” The words were out before Twilight realized she had said them, and though they were certainly true, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit embarrassed as she recalled exactly how the alicorn had assisted her. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal, she thought, though the redness of her face spoke volumes to the contrary. You needed to get your mind off the boulder, and thinking of Luna just helped you... relax. I mean, she is your new mentor and everything. It makes sense that you would see her as a comfort figure, right?
“I appreciate the compliment,” replied Luna, her tone playful. “And I am certainly glad to hear that I am at least somewhat contributing. I would hate to be outclassed by a lump of dreamforged stone, as useful of a teaching tool as it may be.” Her eyes grew distant for a moment, staring out at something Twilight couldn’t see before settling back into focus a few moments later. “Alas, I am afraid tonight’s lesson must come to an end. The night grows old, and I must attend to my duties in the waking realms.”
“What... we’re finished? Already?” Twilight’s sensation of time in the dream-realm was hazy at best, but surely they hadn’t been there for that long.... “It all went so fast.”
The alicorn nodded, eyes twinkling. “There is an expression... time flies when you are having fun? I suppose that would be rather appropriate here.”
Twilight giggled, the combination of the modern phrase and the alicorn’s regal method of speech once again proving inexplicably amusing. “Definitely.” She looked around the field one last time, drinking in the sight of the endless, star-soaked sky. “Well, see you tomorrow night. Oh, and thank you again for... all of this. Really,” she said earnestly. “The chance to study an entire new school of magic... you have no idea how amazing this is.”
“You are quite welcome, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna replied, even as the world began to blur. “It is my pleasure.” She stepped back, the grass and sky collapsing inward around her like so many sheets of discarded paper, and though she couldn’t be sure in the slowly-unfolding chaos around them, Twilight could have sworn she saw her wink.
Twilight’s eyes had already opened before she was fully awake, and she rolled over in her bed, mumbling something indecipherable before squinting out at the sun outside her window. It was fairly early, around seven, and the unicorn felt a smile slowly creep across her face as she realized exactly what she was going to do with the remainder of her waking hours.
Twilight practically vaulted her way out of bed, noticing with a slight amount of surprise that Spike’s bed was empty. She realized she could smell the familiar, delicious aroma of freshly-baked bread from the stairs below and bounded down them, for the moment ignoring the state of her mane and tail (frizzy) and the amount of noise she was making (quite a bit). With a flicker of purple, the door swung open, and Twilight was greeted by a large plate overflowing with toast and jam, alfalfa, and fresh-fried hay-browns. She inhaled deeply, savoring the intermingling aromas, before her stomach reminded her very loudly and indignantly that it hadn’t consumed anything in the past nine hours.
“Whoa. Hungry, huh?” A voice sounded from the door of the library’s kitchen, and Twilight turned to see Spike, outfitted in an apron and comically large chef’s hat. The baby dragon was leaning against the kitchen wall, holding his claws behind his back in an expression of extreme self-satisfaction. He chuckled. “Good thing I got up early.”
Twilight tore her attention away from the mouthwatering spread of food in front of her long enough to envelope Spike in a tight, grateful hug. “Oh, thank you so much, Spike! You didn’t have to get up for me, really, but this is amazing of you.”
“Ah, it’s not that big of a deal,” said Spike, a blush forming underneath his scales as he extricated himself from the unicorn’s embrace. “You were up around this time yesterday, so I figured hey, better safe than sorry, right?”
Twilight nodded, giving Spike one last squeeze before turning her full attention to her plate, horn glowing as she reached for her fork. Just as the first bite was about to reach her mouth, however, a thought struck her.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you get me a copy of The Neurological and Cognitive Functions of Unicorns: A Comprehensive Study and When A Brain Breaks: Disorders of the Mind?” she asked, being careful to inject as little emotion into the question as possible.
“Uh, sure, I guess,” Spike said, sounding slightly confused. “What for?”
Twilight shrugged. “Research project.” No use worrying him about something that might not even turn out to be a problem, she thought. Excessive blushing, goosebumps, sudden, temporary loss of verbal and higher mental functions... it doesn’t exactly sound too life-threatening, but you can never be too sure. Or maybe it’s a magical mutation. Those usually develop when you’re working with experimental rune dialects or uncharted ley-lines, but dream magic might be unstable enough...
“Oh, and Magical Mutations and Maladies too, please.”
“Sure thing, Twilight,” Spike replied, walking off in the direction of the library’s main room. “I’ll have ‘em in a second.”
As Spike busied himself with collecting Twilight’s requested books, the unicorn began to eat, resisting the urge to rub her hooves together in anticipation as she practically shoveled a helping of hay-browns into her mouth with her levitated fork. The food was delicious, but she wanted to reserve as much time as possible for research and data collection. Things like breakfast, necessary as they were, can and would be happily pushed to the wayside in favor of the pursuit of knowledge.
“Here you go, Twi— whoa!” Spike yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the stack of dusty, thickly-bound tomes he was carrying on the floor. He caught himself, depositing the books on the table next to Twilight with a thud, and motioned to her plate incredulously. “Jeez, Twilight. What’s the hurry?”
“Just hungry, I guess,” she replied, downing another heaping forkful of food before cracking open the topmost book with a creak of binding and a poof of dust. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” said Spike, but he might as well have been replying to the chair. Twilight was already utterly absorbed in the pages in front of her, eyes flicking deftly back and forth as she absent-mindedly chewed another bite of alfalfa. As she reached the end of the page, flipping it with her magic and dislodging another dust cloud, she allowed herself a smile.
Today was a Research Day. The best kind, even better than Experiment Days or Social Days, though they each had their merits. But the previous night had raised more questions than ever before, and awake or not, Twilight Sparkle was never a mare to be denied an answer.
