Predictions and Prophecies

Chapters

Arrival
The Calm
Shattering
Research
The Storm

Arrival

ACT I

SETTING THE STAGE

Beginnings are rarely what they would appear to be.

It seemed likely to be a simple mix-up, nothing more. Paige Turner, Chief Librarian of the Canterlot Archives, just assumed that the book in front of her had been forgotten on her copy of the list of titles requested by Ponyville Library. It was probably nothing more than a simple omission, made by one of the newer—and, by definition, lazier—assistants in her employment.

Besides, she reasoned, what difference would one book make? She knew the recipient well; the Archives had practically been her second home, once upon a time. Paige knew that, were this title not required, the mare would simply return it. So long as its absence was recorded, what harm could it possibly do?

If only she had known.

Neither she nor anyone else had seen the shrouded figure the night before, as he crept through the Archive’s storage room. It was almost ridiculous how simple his job had been; he had only needed to find a place to hide, and wait until the library was closed for the night, to complete his task—and although the Archive was rumoured to house many protective spells, they were all designed to prevent damage or theft to the existing books.

There were none designed to prevent books being added.

Silently approaching the cart filled with titles destined for Ponyville, a glow could be seen through the fabric of his hood. The straps of his saddlebag became illuminated with that same glow as he willed it open. A single tome floated out of the bag, and as it passed by he glanced at the cover briefly.

A shudder ran through his body at the memory of the contents, and a sympathetic sorrow began to well up inside him—but he had no choice in the matter. It had to happen.

He left as silently as he had entered.

Later, when the events had been played out, Paige would search for the title. She would not be able to find it on any record of the Archive, though. It was as if the book had never been in her care at all.

Of course, it hadn’t ever been there. It had been planted, specifically for this day—placed in the cart for a single, horrible purpose.

Twilight Sparkle had to read the book. She had to read, and she had to obey.

It was her destiny, after all.

***

“Twilight, The mail’s here! You’d better come down, you’ve got a big delivery!”

Groaning, Twilight flipped her notebook closed. She glanced out of the window, gauging the position of the sun—she’d barely managed an hour’s research this time before being interrupted. How was she supposed to get all the work Princess Celestia had assigned her done if distractions kept popping up?

With a sigh, Twilight trudged towards the bedroom door. Swinging it open with a burst of magic, she headed down the stairs towards the library itself.

“I told you not to interrupt me unless it was for something important, Spike! I’m at a vital part of my... Studies?...”

Twilight trailed off as she reached the ground floor of her library and came to an abrupt halt. Before her a wall of books, standing in rough columns that almost scratched the ceiling and stretched right across the room.

It had also definitely not been there an hour ago.

She spent a few stunned moments staring at the mountain of text that had appeared in her home before Spike came around the side of it, clutching a few letters. He glanced at her awed expression. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought when Derpy dropped them off,” he said, calmly flipping through the letters. “I don’t even know how she managed to get them all here.”

Twilight kept staring at the books. “I didn’t think I’d ordered that many,” she murmured, running her eyes over the spines.

Spike idly flicked a claw at the nearest monolith of literature; it wobbled ominously. "What are you planning to do, open a second library or something?"

Alarmed, Twilight surrounded the stack in a haze of magic to stop it collapsing. She glared at Spike as it settled. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "These are all important texts, straight from the Canterlot Archives themselves!" Closing her eyes, she brought her book order to the forefront of her mind. "This delivery contains the following: vital texts that are missing from our inventory, as well as some reference guides for our existing stock; newer editions and edited versions of our older books; a few updates treatises on..."

Twilight began listing a memorised catalogue of orders. Spike yawned, picking absently at a talon while she continued.

"...And, finally, some much-needed diversity for our non-fiction section!" Twilight concluded, reopening her eyes with a proud smile. Perfect recollection, as always.

Spike met her gaze, raising an eyebrow. “And just where are we going to put them all?” He asked, gesturing at the bookcases around him with an arm.

Breezing past him, Twilight levitated a book down from the top of one of the stacks. “I’m sure we’ll find a solution if we work together!” she assured him. She gasped a moment later, as an idea struck her. “In fact, aren’t we due a library-reorganisation session anyway? We can take care of that at the same time!”

With a gleeful clap of her front hooves, Twilight trotted over to a bookcase, analysing the titles. Behind her, Spike looked around at the number of books he would have to re-catalogue, and gulped.

“Now then,” Twilight began in a businesslike tone, levitating a few books from the topmost shelf, “I think we should start with— ”

There was a heavy thud on the door, followed by some angry grumbles. Twilight tutted to herself, irritated that yet another distraction had arrived—and it was interrupting such an immensely pleasurable task, too. “You make a start on this, Spike,” she called, levitating her tomes over to her unwitting assistant, who was currently occupied with positioning the bookcase’s ladder. “I’ll go deal with whoever just tried to break our door down.”

Ignoring the cry of surprise and the loud crash that came from behind her as she released her telekinetic grip on the books, Twilight reached the door and pulled it open. She then leapt backwards, as a tumbled mess of legs and wings flopped into the doorway. Feeling unable to help without possibly causing injury, Twilight simply stood watching as Rainbow Dash fought to untangle herself.

“Urgh... Sorry about this, Twi,” Rainbow groaned, struggling to remove a hind leg from around her neck. “These new tricks I’m working on... They’re a bit, ah... Tricky...”

“Yeah, Rainbow,” Twilight said dryly. “I know. You’ve been flying into my house every day for the past week.” She glanced up at a recently-replaced window. “At least you didn’t break anything, this time.”

Rainbow’s ears drooped as she finally pushed herself back to her hooves. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she muttered. “I promise I’ll pay you back for that one.”

Placing a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder, Twilight gave her a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s no big deal.”

Rainbow’s mood immediately lifted. “Great!” She said, pushing past Twilight into the library, her previous guilt seemingly forgotten. She arrived at the towering book structures, and began poking them experimentally. “So what’re you doing today, building a book fort?”

Twilight ran forward and pushed Dash out of the way, once again securing the piles with her magic. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just some new additions to the library’s stock.” She paused for a moment, considering Rainbow’s suggestion. “Besides, there’s no way I could use these texts to construct a suitable fort. I’d need an awful lot of masonry study for something appropriately reliable, as well as several high-level defensive spells…”

“Riiiight.” Rainbow shot her an odd look, before shrugging and turning away. “Well, we’ll have to cut your construction plans short for today,” she called back, heading towards the door. “Come on, we’re already running late.”

“Oh?” Twilight replied, mentally shelving her castle concepts for the moment. “Late for what?”

Dash stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder, genuinely surprised. “What, you’ve forgotten?” she asked. “I thought you had a schedule for everything!”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Let’s just pretend for a moment that I don’t have every second of my life planned out in minute detail, and that I’ve been very busy this past week with both the study materials Princess Celestia sent me, and the library.” She nodded towards her book delivery to illustrate the point. “What, exactly, are we rushing off to?”

“Well, we moved the weekly Pony Pet Playdate to this morning, remember?” Rainbow asked. “Y’know, because we’re—“

“—Ohhh! Because you’re all going to Canterlot with Pinkie Pie this afternoon for her cupcake contest, and then staying there the whole week since your flying demonstration is a few days afterwards, so we had to bring forward the Playdate!” Twilight paused for a moment, frowning. “Wow, can’t believe I forgot that all my friends were going away this week!”

“Neither can I,” Rainbow muttered under her breath.

Trotting briskly up to Rainbow Dash’s side, Twilight nodded towards the open door. “We’d better head off, then! I wouldn’t dream of missing my chance to say goodbye to you guys.” She stopped suddenly, glancing around, and her voice dropped a little. “Ugh, but how can I leave now? I’ve got so many books to sort...”

“Don’t worry about that,” Spike called, walking over to the pair, clutching an order list in one claw and rubbing a sore spot on his head with the other. “I’ll take care of them.”

For a moment of stunned silence, the pair shared a disbelieving glance, before turning back to him with concern.

“…Really?”

“You sure you’re feeling alright, little guy?”

“Do I have to go get the thermometer?”

“…I mean, that looks like a lot of work…”

Spike snorted angrily at the two. “Hey, I’m not that lazy!” He sulked. “Besides, I’ve done a decent job of looking after the place before. I’ll be fine with it!”

“Are you sure, Spike?” Twilight asked. “There are an awful lot of books to sort…”

Spike waved a claw dismissively. “Naw, this? It’ll be a piece of cake. I’m your number one assistant, remember?” He puffed out his chest proudly for a second, before giving Twilight a sly glance. “Now, speaking of cake…”

Twilight sighed. “I knew there’d be a catch,” she muttered to herself. “Okay, what do you want?”

Spike leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. “You know this cupcake thingie they’re all going to?” He asked eagerly, gesturing towards Rainbow Dash. “Well,” he continued, “I want you to bring me some back. Like, a whole wagonload!” He seemed to be almost drooling at the very idea of it.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to force anypony to drag a whole wagon of cakes back with them.” She paused to glance back at Rainbow, hoping to have her weigh in. When she only shrugged, Twilight sighed, facing Spike with a determined glare. “One saddlebag,” she retorted.

“Half a wagon!”

“One. Saddlebag.”

Spike scowled, crossing his arms. “Two saddlebags, and…” He lowered his voice to a reverent whisper. “…A Dawnlight Crystal.”

Twilight considered this proposal seriously, before shrugging. “Deal.”

Spike whooped with joy. He span away from them for a moment and started performing what Twilight found to be an adorable little victory dance, before turning back to flash her a crafty grin. “Y’know, I would have gone down to one and a half saddlebags,” he revealed in a conspiratorial whisper.

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “He got you good, Twilight!” she said, giving Spike a supportive wink.

“Yes, I suppose he did,” Twilight agreed, almost looking proud of him. “Well then,” she said after a moment, “Shall we head off?”

Rainbow nodded once, then launched herself into the air and barrelled out of the door. Twilight gave the room of books one last look before looking to Spike. “I should be back in a couple of hours, okay? Just be careful with the ones on the higher shelves; some of them are incredibly rare and delicate—and we don’t want another one burnt away, do we?”

Spike scowled and waved an arm at her dismissively. “Yeesh, will you stop worrying and go have fun already? It’s almost like you’d rather be stuck in here than being out with your friends.”

“Well, it is a close second,” Twilight admitted, only half joking. She quickly leaned down to give Spike an affectionate nuzzle, then turned away, following Rainbow Dash out into Ponyville.

As Twilight closed the door behind herself and headed for the park, Spike began his work. Cracking his talons together, he reached for the first, nearest book in the pile of new arrivals.

It was one that wouldn't be found on his list.

***

"So, what was up with that major workload back there?" Rainbow asked, lowering herself into a hover next to Twilight. She seemed slightly out of breath.

Twilight smirked. "Oh, so you're finished showing off now, and I can have a chance at conversation?"

Rainbow answered Twilight's snide comment with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, like you didn't know what was gonna happen when you asked how I was doing with my new routine."

Twilight chuckled. "Point taken; I should have expected eight minutes of stunt flying from you."

"Exactly!" Rainbow landed next to her, giving her a smug grin. "As if I'd ever turn down the chance to prove how awesome I am!"

“I just hope it’s going to be ‘awesome’ enough for the Wonderbolts at your demonstration,” Twilight commented.

“Me too, Twi,” Dash sighed and hung her head slightly, looking a little nervous for the first time. “Me too.”

Twilight stopped for a moment, reaching over to give Rainbow a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hey now, don’t worry!” she encouraged. “That new routine of yours is really something else! Besides, once you add your little party trick to the end of it, I’m almost certain you’ll blow the competition out of the sky!”

Rainbow glanced up at her, confused. “My… ‘Party trick’?” She asked, giving Twilight an odd look. “You mean the one where me and Pinkie… You know, with our tongues?” She made a vague gesture with one hoof.

Twilight’s cheeks instantly turned a bright red. “N-No! Of course not!” She stammered. “Whatever you do, don’t do that in front of a crowd!”

Rainbow looked relieved. “Well thank Celestia for that! I thought you’d gone completely mad. I don’t think the Wonderbolts need to see that!” Rainbow stopped for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Although, it would be pretty impressive in midair…” She shook her head, before giving Twilight another quizzical glance. “So, what do you mean, ‘party trick?’”

Despite her furious blush and incredible embarassment, Twilight managed to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, gee, I don’t know… Maybe the one where you obliterate the visible light spectrum?” She asked, with a truly admirable amount of sarcasm given the circumstances.

“Oh, yeah.” Rainbow chuckled sheepishly. “That. Yeah, I don’t think there’ll be many other tryouts there who can match a Sonic Rainboom. After what happened at the Young Flyer’s Competition, and with all the points I racked up at the Wonderbolts Academy, these trials are as good as mine!”

Twilight smiled at her enthusiasm and confidence, but it was one tinged with sadness. “I’m just sorry I won’t be there to see you reach your dream,” she said. “I’d love to come with you all to Canterlot…”

Rainbow shrugged. “Hey, it’s no big deal,” she reassured Twilight. “This isn’t the end of the journey! It’s just a chance for us hopefuls to really show our stuff to the Wonderbolts. All we get is one little hoof-made routine each, though. I’ll have to do a lot more to get on their radar.” Her familiar cocky smile surfaced. “Besides, you’ve just seen my amazing new routine, and you’ve already had two Rainbooms! It’s not like you’ll be missing out on much.”

Twilight chuckled. “Technically, three, if we’re counting the one from when we were all fillies,” she reminded her.

“Huh,” Rainbow grunted. “I forgot about that one.” She scratched her chin contemplatively. “Maybe I should start charging you for these…”

Twilight swatted a hoof at Rainbow in mock annoyance, which she easily dodged with a laugh. The pair walked on in silence for a few moments, soaking in the tranquil atmosphere of Ponyville.

The town was a very odd paradox at times; it was always either the very definition of peace, or the very definition of insanity. Still, Twilight felt that the occasional bouts of craziness were almost worth it for these serene days; the kind of morning where the world was just a pleasant backdrop. She nodded politely at some of the ponies they trotted past, many of whom were still discussing the performance Rainbow Dash had just put on in front of them.

Surprisingly, Rainbow was actually ignoring this attention instead of soaking it up as she would have done previously. These days, she seemed perfectly willing to show off her talent, but not to let her ego swell so much afterwards.

To think how far both Twilight and her friends had come over the past couple of years. Here she was, a former social pariah, now reformed enough to be at least a passing acquaintance to most of the ponies in the town she lived in. Next to her, a former showboat was now at peace with her surroundings, doing nothing more to seek attention than just being herself.

Twilight sighed contentedly as she trotted alongside her friend. They had all learned so much from each other, and they were all better for it. Nowadays, she could barely remember what life was like before she had such wonderful friends—and she could hardly imagine life without them.

The very fact that they were on their way to this particular Playdate was evidence enough for how much they had changed each other. Twilight had trouble imagining the boisterous, speed-obsessed pegasus she’d first met when she arrived in Ponyville ever having a pet like a tortoise. It really was a sign of just how much of an effect the girls had had on each other.

The pair passed into the park, revealing a sprawling ocean of grass. Under the cool shade of a tree in the centre of the field, four ponies sat around a patterned cloth set out beneath them, with a picnic spread scattered about them. Further out in the meadow, the ponies’ pets could be seen as little more than specks against the sky and ground.

“Looks like everyone’s here already,” Twilight noted, glancing wryly at Rainbow Dash. “Maybe somepony should have remembered we were running late, instead of doing a stunt routine?”

“Well, maybe somepony shouldn’t have wasted time bribing their assistant!” Rainbow shot back with a grin.

“Wait, what?”

“Oh c’mon, Twi!” Rainbow said, rolling her eyes. “The way he looked when he talked about that whatsit-crystal? That’s the face Winona makes when AJ gives her a doggy treat.”

“It’s not my fault that the best path to obedience is through his stomach!” Twilight argued. “It just so happens that, according to him, Dawnlight Crystals are the most delicious of all gemstones, created in the very light emanating from Princess Celestia when she raises the sun each day— ”

“Don’t care,” Rainbow interrupted, “and it doesn’t change the fact that you bribed him. With a treat. Like a dog.” She chuckled, grinning at Twilight. “What next, are you gonna teach him to roll over and play dead?”

Twilight decided to forego further conversation, instead resorting to a stern, resentful glare.

Rainbow managed to bear it for only a few seconds before turning away and grunting. “Yeesh, it was just a joke!” She sighed, nodding towards the group now waving over at them. “C’mon, let’s go see the girls.” With that, she leapt into the air, spreading her wings to glide down towards the ongoing picnic.

“I’m so telling Spike you think of him as a pet when I get home!” Twilight called, chasing after Rainbow.

“Ooooh, I’m soooo scared! What’s he gonna do? Come after me in his battle apron , and clean me to death?”

Despite her best efforts, Twilight couldn’t help but laugh. The pair were still giggling as they rushed up to meet their four friends, turning to greet the new arrivals.

The Calm

Spike took another, more careful look, but there was no change; the book in his hand was still missing from the list of titles Twilight had ordered. It was pretty rare that the Canterlot Archives would make a mistake—in fact, it was almost unheard of—so he did what Twilight herself would do; he checked a third time. With the book still absent on his sheet, he treated it to a cautious squint.

“So what are you, then?” Spike asked the book. “Did they throw you in as a freebie or something?”

The book said nothing.

Curious, Spike flicked through the first few pages. He found nothing but archaic language and words he was pretty sure no longer existed—which, coincidentally, was probably the kind of thing Twilight would love. He quickly got bored of trying to decipher the text, and closed the book without reading any further.

“I guess I’ll leave you for Twilight to deal with, then!”

With that decided, he climbed the stairs up to Twilight's room. placing the book on her desk, he grabbed a nearby quill and quickly write out a note to leave with it as an explanation.

“Good luck,” Spike called to the book as he left the room. “Celestia knows what Twilight’ll put you through.”

The book remained resolutely silent.

Spike made it all the way downstairs before he realised he had been talking to a piece of literature like it was a living creature. He shook his head in despair. “Honestly, sometimes I think Twilight’s crazy is infectious.”

With a weary sigh, he retrieved the order list and took a look at the stacks of dusty tomes, all piled up and waiting for him. Staring down his grimy adversaries, Spike narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“I’m gonna need an apron…”

***

“…And so I said, ‘oatmeal? That makes perfect sense!’” Pinkie Pie finished, striking a flamboyant pose.

Four of the other ponies present laughed uproariously, bringing an enormous grin to Pinkie’s face. Rarity, in contrast, spluttered indignantly.

“Well!” she exclaimed, her face reddening. “You may all laugh at it, but those stains were a nightmare to get out of the dresses! Honestly, that is the last time I let Sweetie Belle near my kitchen—or you, for that matter, Pinkie!”

Pinkie Pie took on an expression of mock incredulity. “What? How was it my fault? All I did was lend her my party cannon!” She sniffed haughtily. “Some ponies just don’t have the right sense of humour.”

"Well, as long as you don't send her over to the library instead, Rarity!" Twilight giggled. "I’m still finding burn marks from the last time you suggested she come for a visit with her friends."

Rarity rolled her eyes. "It wasn't like I had a better option!" She explained. "They really were seeking help with their homework, I was too busy to assist them, and... Ahem... Given the choices available, I felt you to be most suitable." She looked around the group as she said this, apparently to indicate her point.

Rainbow Dash noticed this and leapt to her hooves, feathers ruffled. "Hey, you saying we're all too dumb to do some little filly’s homework?" She accused, voice cracking in anger.

Applejack glanced up at the enraged pegasus from her reclined position. "Settle down, Rainbow," she drawled, before squinting at Twilight with a playful sneer. "Ah reckon all she meant was that Twi here would actually enjoy it, 'stead of just doin' it to help them girls."

The group laughed, and it was Twilight’s turn to blush. It was true; she had derived a certain amount of enjoyment from tutoring the three eager fillies.

Well, up until they found her chemistry set, anyway. At that point, she was more concerned with damage control than anything else.

"'Sides, some of us really can’t help them girls out with their math homework," Applejack continued gruffly once the other girls had settled down.

"Don’t be silly, AJ," Twilight said firmly. "I’m sure you’d be able to help your sister!"

The farmer snorted, lying back and resting her hat over her eyes. "Sure, whatever y'all say."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, before it was—to the surprise of nopony present—broken by Pinkie Pie.

"Sooo, speaking of the library..." She began.

"We were?" Rainbow interjected, confused. "I thought we were talking about AJ being thi—" she was cut off by a hoof in the side from Rarity, who gave the pegasus a warning glare.

"...It's a real shame you can't come with us to Canterlot," Pinkie finished, ignoring the bickering between Rarity and Rainbow to her left, and giving Twilight a puppy-dog look.

Twilight glanced away; she didn't want to risk her resolve crumbling under the weight of pink adorableness.

"Sorry Pinkie," she apologized, carefully keeping her gaze on the blanket below her. "I just can't make it. I know how much you want me to be there for your competition, and for Rainbow’s routine... But I’m afraid I just can’t possibly leave the library right now.”

“Oh for the love of Celestia, Twilight, why not?” Rarity blurted out, apparently in the middle of her own argument by Rainbow’s startled expression. “I understand that your library is important to you, but we’re all leaving our jobs for this week, too!”

The fashionista paused so that she could execute a dramatic swoon, falling back into Fluttershy’s quickly-outstretched hooves. “Oh, how will my boutique ever survive without me? Maybe this wasn’t such a… No!” She straightened up once more with a determined glare, shocking Fluttershy at the sudden movement and change in attitude. “This week is too important to my friends! Pinkie’s first personal entry into an Equestria-wide baking competition, and Rainbow’s first public Wonderbolts trial, both in the same week? Missing it would be simply unforgivable!”

The unicorn stuck a dramatic pose to emphasise her point, before not-so-subtly sneaking a glance over towards Twilight to see if her performance had inspired a sudden change of heart.

To absolutely nopony’s surprise—but Rarity’s disappointment—it hadn’t. Before Twilight could speak, however, Rainbow Dash piped up. “And let’s not forget the personal gain you get from having us all wear your swanky clothes to the events and being walking adverts for you, yeah?”

Rarity slumped, completely ruining her dramatic pose, and glared across at Rainbow for a moment. “Well, yes, there is that as well,” she conceded reluctantly, retreating back to Fluttershy’s side.

“I’m sorry girls, I really am,” Twilight said earnestly. “I just can’t afford to leave the library again so soon! The organisation schedule really has been torn apart this past year, what with a rampaging greedy dragon and that time travel nonsense, and I really do have a lot of things that need to be done—especially with that large shipment I got today!” She turned to Rainbow Dash at this point, clearly begging her to back up her claim.

Rainbow sat up slightly, pushing her sunglasses up onto her forehead as she apparently considered her memory of the vast pile of books she had seen earlier. “That’s a lot of books,” she eventually confirmed.

“See?” Twilight gestured at Rainbow with a hoof, very nearly poking her eye out were it not for the hastily re-equipped shades. “Besides, I’ve used up all my schedules holidays!” She raised both her forehooves out in front of her. “Following Spike all the way out to the dragon lands,” she began, counting off her first hoof, “and travelling to Canterlot so we could meet up with Rarity for my birthday party!” Twilight then fell back, sticking her hind legs into the air for extra counting utensils. “Then there was the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant, and chasing down Applejack after her rodeo!”

Realising she had run out of hooves, Twilight leapt back up, searching for another option. She settled on levitating over a willing and giggling volunteer—namely, Pinkie Pie—and revolved her over in midair to use her hooves as a counting measure, continuing with her list. “The last trip to a bakery competition, for the Cake’s entry! Travelling to the Crystal Kingdom! And of course, who could forget, my own brother’s wedding!”

Having reached the end of her list, Twilight unceremoniously dumped Pinkie onto the picnic blanket. Apparently upset that one of her hind hooves had been left out, Pinkie grabbed hold of it and stuck it into the air, crying, “And this little filly went ‘wheeeeeee!’, all the way home!”

Between Twilight’s outburst and Pinkie Pie’s randomness, no-one could really think of anything to say. Finally, Applejack spoke up.

“Well, when ya put it like that,” she admitted, “Ah s’pose ah can see where yer coming from. Shucks, if all that wackiness had happened during Applebuck Season… why, we’d be stuck behind more than Big Mac in English class!” She chuckled at her own joke for a brief moment, before continuing. “And ah suppose libraries don’t really have proper ‘seasons’ like Sweet Apple Acres does, so y’all gotta work the same all year round. With all them interruptions, ah’m not surprised you’re itchin’ to set things right.”

As the other girls reluctantly conceded the point, Twilight smiled at the farmer. “Thanks, for understanding, AJ. I know it’s hard, and believe me, I’d rather be going with you than doing anything else.” She looked down at the cloth, scraping at it with one hoof. “I just… Can’t. There’s so much to do, and I’ve used up all of the holidays I’m permitted. I just can’t stay away from the library this time.” She glanced back up at the group and smiled a little. “I know you understand, and I just hope you can still find a way to have fun without me.”

The girls nodded, smiling back at her. Pinkie leapt back onto her hooves to give Twilight a mock salute. “Don’t you worry, Miss Sparkle, sir!” she barked. “I promise to keep the troops smiling and laughing at all times, sir!” Her serious façade cracked for a moment, and she gave Twilight a conspiratorial wink. “And I promise to bring you back lots of treats from my competition, sir!”

Twilight giggled at the drastic contrast between Pinkie’s serious and usual attitudes, before replying to her mock salute with one of her own.

“Yeah, and I’ll totally give you a private performance when I get back!” Rainbow Dash promised, sidling up to Twilight casually. “I mean, you’ve already seen my awesome moves today, but next time, you might just be watching them being performed by the newest—and best—Wonderbolt recruit in Equestria!” She rubbed a hoof on her chest nonchalantly. “I might even give you an autograph, if you’re lucky.”

Twilight pushed Rainbow away playfully, laughing along with her friends at the fake display of egotism.

“Thanks, girls,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll both do great without me—especially with the others there to give you all the support you need.” She stopped for a moment, suddenly remembering Spike’s request. “And I need to give you a letter for the Princess, Pinkie—there’s something else I’d like you to bring back for me…”

***

Closing the library’s door behind her, Twilight sighed contentedly. Her friends had all returned to their own homes. They were preparing to leave for Canterlot in the next few hours, whilst she was stuck in Ponyville.

Alone.

Well, not quite alone. Owloysius would come to the library at sundown, as per usual; when the Playdate had ended, he had returned to the Everfree Forest, to hunt or sleep as he felt necessary. She knew that, come nightfall, he would be there to keep her company.

Then, of course, there was Spike. She always enjoyed spending time with him, even if he could be incredibly snarky at times. Still, he had been by her side for so much of her life, and she couldn’t help thinking of him more as a brother than anything else—no matter what Rainbow Dash had to say about their relationship. She knew that he would be happy to spend his time with her, if she asked him to.

Not that she had to impose herself on Spike; there were still the other ponies around town, after all. The six friends she shared so much with were by no means her only friends, just the ones she felt the strongest connection to; whether this was due to their shared experiences, the Elements of Harmony, or just pure chance, Twilight didn’t know—and, for once, didn’t have the drive to find out, lest she spoil the wonderful balance they had.

She could always go to the spa with Cheerilee, or pass the time by talking science with that Mr. Hooves, who always seemed in a rush. Maybe if she was lucky, she could actually slow him down long enough to explain in further details the exact way in which ‘her method of time travel was completely invalid and impossible in any rational universe’, as he had once put it?

Twilight was spoiled for choice, really; if she needed a break from the library, there were many ponies around town that she could easily see herself spending some time with over the next few days.

The realisation that she actually had more choices in friends to spend time with than she had actual time was a surprisingly pleasant one. After all the years she had spent in self-imposed isolation, Twilight had somehow stumbled into a world of social interaction and constant pleasantry—and she felt so happy about it.

Maybe there’s something I could do; the investigation of comparative happiness, Twilight mused absently as she headed upstairs to check on Spike’s progress with the re-shelving of her own personal collection. If only I could devise a standardised measurement of joy, I could perhaps analyse and record the levels experienced through various social and ‘anti-social’ events; winning a party game versus finishing a book, for example…

Her inner monologue stopped momentarily when she reached her room. She found no Spike; instead, there was a single book and a note upon her desk. Curious, Twilight levitated the note over as she trotted up to the table, reading it to herself.

Twilight,

This book doesn’t seem to be on our lists—and yes, I triple checked. Maybe they threw in a freebie, or got mixed up? Or maybe—Celestia forbid—maybe you made a mistake?!

That was a joke. Please don’t go on a town-wide rampage, or turn me into a frog or something.

Twilight found herself chuckling, almost against her will, at her assistant’s humour. She took a moment to laugh at herself—she could see his point, after all—before continuing to read.

Anyway, I’ve left the book here for you to deal with. If nothing else, you’ve got even more to read!

Then, on a second piece of parchment that Spike appeared to have tried to attach to the bottom of the first page by using his own saliva:

(P.S. I’ve finished up organising the new arrivals, and yes they’re all correct, but I’m sure you’re gonna check my work anyway. I’ve gone out for some lunch so that I don’t get in your way or get angry when I find you doubting everything I do. If you need me to buy anything, you can make a shopping list for when I get home. I’ll be back soon enough!)

Sometimes, Twilight thought her assistant knew her too well. She had been fully planning to check Spike’s work, after all—if only because the speed at which he’d apparently finished it was suspicious at best.

Setting aside the slightly sodden letter, she focused her attention on the book.

“So, what are you?” She mused.

A quick glance at the cover told her everything she needed to know. A gold-coloured decorative trim surrounded a large black symbol emblazoned in the centre, of a stylised eye held within a triangle. It was a common enough symbol, often associated with the psychic and the paranormal.

Of course, the title was much more revealing. Predictions and Prophecies.

Looking back, she could just about remember seeing this before; it was the very book she had used as a reference in Canterlot, when investigating the return of Nightmare Moon. Oddly enough, she had never seen the book again since arriving in Ponyville—despite the often common availability of such texts, and the library’s own surprising depth of content.

This looks to be a far more complete version, she deduced from the comparative bulk of the tome. There’s also that symbol on the front, which certainly wasn’t on my copy. Maybe this is a full compendium, instead of just a reference guide as the other edition seemed to be?

Giddy with the thought of new literary discoveries, Twilight sat herself down at the desk. Checking Spike’s handiwork could wait; she had a brand new world of writing to explore!

Note to self: definitely develop ideas on comparing happiness derived from books compared to that derived from social interaction. She genuinely couldn’t tell if this was more enjoyable to her than the earlier meet-up with her friends.

With an eagerness she had felt all too often before, and knowing full well she wasn’t going to stop before she knew all it had to offer, Twilight creaked open the book and began to read.

Shattering

The train thundered its way through a tunnel. The crash of wheels on tracks echoed endlessly through the darkness of the hollowed mountain, bouncing back on itself until the original sound was lost in the wailing cacophony of shrieking metal.

It was as if they were riding a storm cloud.

Only one of the train’s passengers heard this morose interpretation of the noise, though. Even then, it was but a side-note in her conscious mind; she had much more important things to concentrate on.

Finally emerging from the darkness and the noise, the carriages hurtled forth; the spires of distant Canterlot grew inexorably closer in the distance. Aboard one of these carriages was a group of six ponies. Five of them were desperately trying to speak normally, to enjoy their journey. They couldn't quite manage it, though. Not with their sixth member so out of sorts.

The group chanced an occasional glance towards the troubled mare. She had, seemingly deliberately, seated herself on the far side of the carriage from them. Each time they looked, their eyes were met with the same scene: a pensive stare out of the window. A troubled frown. A look of worry and fear. Incoherent mumbling.

The group only grew more restless and concerned as time went by. There was clearly something troubling Twilight.

After yet another of her attempted jokes fell flat amidst the air of confusion and worry, Pinkie Pie had had enough. Showing far more bravery than her friends, and acting before they could stop her, she leapt across the carriage and landed upon the baggage shelf above Twilight's head. Dangling from the rack by her back hooves, she hung upside down in front of the out-of-sorts pony.

"What's got you down, frowny-frown?" Pinkie asked.

Twilight grunted, the surprise of a vision full of pink snapping her out of her stupor. She gave Pinkie a glare, sighing.

“It’s nothing, Pinkie,” she said quietly. “I just… I need to think.”

Pinkie Pie just hung there, smiling at Twilight.

Twilight coughed, staring at Pinkie balefully.

“By myself.”

Pinkie Pie didn’t move, still grinning. One of Twilight’s eyes started to twitch; she suppressed a growl.

“As in, without you?”

Her anger finally cracked Pinkie’s impenetrable beam, reducing it from the usual face-splitting status to a mere consoling smile. “C’mon, Twi!” she pleaded, swinging a little closer to her. “We’re your friends! You know you can tell us what’s troubling you! You can share anything with us, and know that we’ll always be there to help you!”

Something flashed across Twilight’s face then. It was there for less than a moment, but it still gave everypony watching a pause for thought. It was horror, helplessness and… Disgust, all in a single look, before it disappeared. A mask of impassiveness rose in its place.

“Not this time, Pinkie,” Twilight said softly. “Not with this.”

Pinkie was silent for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked jovially. “Friendship cures everything, silly! Haven’t we proved that yet?”

“Look, I just—”

“Besides, I promised, remember?” Pinkie continued, raising a hoof to her forehead in a mock salute, reciting herself from earlier. “I promise to keep the troops smiling and laughing at all times, sir!” She waved the hoof towards Twilight, giggling. “And since you’re here now, that includes you! There’s no way I’m going to break my promise, because losing a friend’s trust is the fastest way to—”

“Pinkie, no!” Twilight hissed angrily. “Just leave me alone!”

She instantly regretted snapping like that. Pinkie’s smile dwindled away into nothingness. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Look, it’s… It’s just something I have to think about,” Twilight sighed, sagging slightly. “It’s nothing for you to be… Worried about.” Wincing, she gave Pinkie a pleading look. “Just give me some time alone, please?”

Pinkie stared at Twilight for a long moment, running her eyes over the unicorn’s face with real intensity; she sought some kind of answer, some way through the emotionless expression to the truth held underneath. Across the carriage, four ponies held their collective breath with anticipation.

Then, the moment passed. The grin came back at full strength, and with a surprisingly graceful flip, Pinkie threw herself from the shelf and landed back on her hooves.

“Okie dokie, then!” she chirped, bouncing her way back over to the group. As she left, Twilight exhaled with relief, hanging her head slightly.

Pinkie parked herself next to Rainbow Dash. She sat with a small smile on her face, humming some tune to herself, apparently completely unaware of the questioning looks from the others. She remained lost in her own world for a few good seconds, in fact, before somepony’s patience finally snapped.

“Well?!” Rainbow hissed, nudging Pinkie in the side.

Pinkie’s humming cut off as she faced Rainbow with a wide-eyed look of confusion. “Well what?” she asked.

“What’s up with Twilight?” Rainbow said exasperatedly.

Pinkie smiled again. “Oh, she’s thinking about something,” she answered happily.

Rainbow, Rarity and Applejack gave perfectly synchronised long-suffering groans, and even Fluttershy seemed agitated. “I think, uhm… I think we all guessed that already, Pinkie,” she explained quietly. “We all thought you’d gone to… you know, find out what’s wrong?”

Pinkie looked confused. “I did!” she insisted. “And I already told you, she said she wanted to think! She was just wanting some ‘time alone’, whatever that means.” For a moment, her smile dipped, almost looking sad. “She made that clear enough.”

After a second’s silence, though, Pinkie bounced back with a giggle at the notion. “What a silly idea! Who would ever want to be alone? I know I wouldn’t!”

To apparently prove her point, she grabbed a startled Rarity, pulling her into a one-sided hug. Rarity tolerated this for a few moments before trying to squirm her way out.

“But that’s… Ungh… So clearly an evasion, dear!” The unicorn wheezed, struggling to escape Pinkie’s grip. “There’s definitely something troubling her, something that she… Ah… Doesn’t want to tell us about! Did you not think to enquire further?”

Pinkie finally released her, giving the heavily-breathing mare a sceptical glance. “Don’tcha think Twilight would have told us if something was seriously wrong?” she asked. “We’re her friends, after all! She knows if there was something the matter, she could always bring it to us—and if she says it isn’t a biggie, then I believe her!” Pinkie faced the group with a reassuring smile. “She’s not such a silly filly that she’d keep something important like that to herself!”

Fluttershy giggled. “Well, we know she isn’t really one for keeping secrets…” She shared a knowing look with Rarity, both of them tittering at a shared memory.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Twilight called, immediately silencing the group. They turned as one to face the subject of their conversation, with varying degrees of sheepishness. She merely sighed, giving the group a look they couldn't quite understand.

"Look, girls," she began, running a hoof through her mane. "I know that I’ve been worrying you, and I don't mean to. There's just... There’s something I have to check, in Canterlot. And it's not something you can help with." She looked into each of their eyes as she spoke. "I just need to do this for myself, without you..." She broke off, turning to stare back out of the window. After a moment, she shuddered, and looked at them again, a new determination in her eyes. "Just... Have fun over the next few days, okay? Don't let me bother you, just have a good time." She turned away and muttered under her breath, "While you still can..."

The group was silent for a moment, the low rumble of the train the only sound. They shared confused glances for a time. Finally, Applejack rose to her hooves. Carefully walking across the swaying carriage, she made her way over to Twilight’s side. She rested a foreleg over her, drawing her into a compassionate semi-hug, not noticing the unicorn cringe under her weight.

"Twi, hun," Applejack said, giving her a reassuring smile, "Ah just don't think ah could enjoy mahself, knowin' you were out of sorts." She looked back over her shoulder at the group, nodding insistently towards Twilight. The girls got the idea, and rushed over to join the hug and give their own assurances.

"Yeah, AJ's right!"

"It just wouldn’t feel right!"

“We wouldn’t want to have fun without you…”

Twilight sniffed, her eyes watering. "I... I know, girls." She returned the hug for a moment, content to lose herself in the loving embrace of her friends. It couldn't last, though, and she had to peel herself from their grip.

Though on the verge of tears, Twilight managed a small smile. Even now, her friends were so protective; so eager to help her.

Would they still be, if they knew—

Kill.

Her smile began to feel strained.

“Look, I promise it’s nothing for you to all get worried about,” she lied, trying to force some sincerity into her voice. “It’s like… the opposite of the whole ‘tardy’ thing; it really isn’t that big a deal.” Twilight winced at both the lie and the memory, before continuing. “Right now, it’s just something I need to look into. I can’t tell you what’s going on, but I promise that as soon as I’ve got everything cleared up, I will let you all know. You’ve just got to give me time to sort this out for myself, alright?”

Twilight stared into the faces of five ponies who, despite her assurances, still felt concerned and sceptical. A few seconds passed like that, with Twilight’s hope for privacy dwindling by the moment, along with her smile. As the moments drifted by, a battle raged inside her.

You need to tell them.

I can’t tell them!

But they have to know! You need to get them away from you!

It’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.

How can you fight fate?!

I don’t know yet… But I will. I’ll find a way. I’m not going to ki… I won’t hurt them!

Twilight was snapped back to her senses by a blur of pink movement. After a second, she recognised the motions.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” Pinkie giggled, beaming at her. “I trust you, Twilight! I’m sure you’ll let us know what’s up if you need to!”

The twinge of guilt was almost enough to force her to spill there and then. The fact that she was taking Pinkie’s honest trust, her promise, and subverting it like this… It was so hard to bear, but she had to do it. “Thank you, Pinkie,” Twilight murmured, forcing the smile back onto her face. She turned to face the others. “Girls?”

Slowly, with more reluctant motions and only muttered assent, the other four mares performed the routine. The knife in Twilight’s gut twisted as she glanced at Pinkie’s smiling face again; she was forcing all of them to violate her friend’s most sacred of pacts, in order to preserve her own lie.

She reminded herself that it was all to keep them safe.

But for how long?

Twilight shook her head to dislodge the treacherous thought. “Thanks, guys,” she said, feeling relief for the first time since boarding the train. “I promise, as soon as I’m sure of everything, you’ll know. For now, I just need to think.” She stood up, stretching her hooves a little. “I think I’ll go for a walk, clear my head… Maybe get something from the food cart.” With that, she headed out of the carriage, leaving the five behind her.

The moment the carriage door closed behind Twilight, Rainbow Dash spoke. “Alright, this is serious. We have to find out what’s bugging her. We’ve gotta make her talk!”

Pinkie gasped, scandalised. “No, Dashie!” she cried. “We all Pinkie Promised!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, flapping her wings irritably. “There’s something seriously messed up here, Pinkie!” She exclaimed. “Twilight’s definitely got a problem—something that’s making her act really weird and sad, and making her want to keep away from us! Our friend is hurting, and we have to find out why, so we can help her!” She raised herself into a hover, genuinely angry now. “Compared to that… who cares about some stupid promise?!” She demanded.

Pinkie stared at the enraged pegasus, sinking slightly. Tears began to form at the edges of her eyes. “I care,” she whimpered.

Rainbow instantly deflated. “Aww geez, Pinkie…” She drooped back down to the carriage floor, awkwardly scratching her head with a hoof. “You know I didn’t mean it like that…”

Rarity quickly made her way to Pinkie’s side, pulling her into a hug this time. “Rainbow, dear, I assure you that we’re all just as concerned as you are,” she asserted, giving her a mild glare for upsetting Pinkie Pie. “But we, at least, can withhold our aggression! Twilight said that she will tell us when she’s ready, and that will just have to be enough for you!”

Rainbow looked from Rarity and Pinkie to Fluttershy, who studiously avoided her gaze by hiding behind her mane, and Applejack, who gave her a much stronger glare than Rarity had dared to.

“Y’know what?” Rainbow muttered, standing up. “I think I need some air, too.” She trotted out of the carriage, slamming the door behind her.

***

Twilight shakily levitated a hooful of bits over to the vendor, offering him what smile she could before taking the cress sandwich she’d just bought. On her way back down the carriage aisle, she noticed a free space in this car. The ambient clatter of the train was actually a lot quieter here than in the carriage she’d been sharing with her friends, and what few ponies there were present were sitting in silence, reading or gazing out of the windows. Maybe she could finally get a chance to sit and think clearly, without distraction?

Kill.

Evidently not.

Twilight sighed heavily as she slid her saddlebags onto one of the free seats, and seated herself next to them. Dropping her sandwich onto the table in front of her, she stared out of the window. After a few moments of contemplation, she levitated her food over to her mouth.

Chewing on her snack distractedly, she did what she’d been trying to do throughout the train ride: let her mind analyse. This was normally what she was good at; given the chance to stop and think, there really was little she couldn’t find a way around.

This time, though, all she had was circles. Tracks of logic, looping back on themselves indefinitely.

She knew that, no matter what, she wouldn’t ever choose to do… that. She couldn’t conceive of any possible situation that would make her ever even consider it. The facts, though, weren’t in her favour: no matter how improbable it was, every single other prediction in the book had come true. Regardless of whether or not she wanted to do it, history dictated that she must do it.

But she couldn’t.

But she must.

Twilight snorted, tearing a large chunk out of her sandwich. She simply couldn’t progress further until she found out more about the book—and that meant talking to an authority who would know more than she did.

That always meant the Princess.

Or... Did it? Twilight realised with a start that, in this case, there was another option. The book had come, unprompted, from the Canterlot Archives, after all; she hadn’t ordered it, and yet there it was in her delivery. Surely, then, if anypony were to know of its origins, it would be the Chief Librarian?

Given what she knew, the only possibilities were that either this was an astronomically well-timed coincidence, or the book had been planted and intentionally sent to her at this time. Given the relative improbability of the former—as well as the difficulty of investigating such an origin—Twilight decided to focus on the latter.

She couldn’t believe for a moment that Paige Turner had been the one to send it. They had been close once, back when she had spent most of her days in the Archives researching magic. She had spent many an hour pouring over ancient spells and treatises with the elder pony in her search for magical knowledge. She knew that the kind, aging mare wouldn’t have been the one to send her such a hateful tome. The fact remained, however, that nothing left the Archives without Paige’s permission, and she had an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the books it held.

She surely couldn’t have been the source, but she was a good place to start.

Twilight hadn’t changed much about the situation, if anything. She still didn’t know who had sent the book, or why—but now, she had a new lead. It gave her a boost of confidence, a feeling of hope; she could find the culprit, and she could face this problem.

Twilight finished her sandwich and rose to her hooves. She turned to leave the food car.

And saw Rainbow Dash through the door’s glass panel, about to come in.

Gripped by panic, Twilight was anchored in front of her seat. She couldn't face Rainbow—not on her own. Back in the carriage, with the girls, Rainbow had seemed the most eager to hear the truth, the least convinced by her lies. Twilight just knew Rainbow had followed her, to interrogate her until she caved in.

And she would. Twilight knew it. She'd come so close, back there, to blurting out the truth. It was only the desire not to hurt her friends—the fear of seeing them turn and run—that had stopped her.

As a group, they could be calmed, restrained. On her own, though, Rainbow Dash would be unrelenting. She would corner Twilight, and wouldn't let up until she had learned the horrible truth.

Twilight saw Dash start to open the car door. She did the only thing she could think of, and threw herself to the floor. Hurriedly, she crawled underneath her table, before suddenly remembering her saddlebags. Lashing out with a hind leg, she managed to hook the strap. She pulled her hooves in behind her, dragging the bags underneath the chair, and then curled up as tightly as possible.

For several, seemingly-endless moments she stayed there, the beat of her heart seeming to race the thud of the wheels against the track below. She clung to her hind legs desperately, pulling them in tighter and doing her best to ignore the ache already setting in.

If I can stay under here for just a few minutes, Twilight thought, then surely by then Rainbow will have given up, and I can leave—

"Uh, Twi?" came a voice from above her. "What're you doing down there?"

Drat.

The rush of adrenaline from being discovered prompted her to flee. Instead, Twilight reluctantly extracted herself from beneath the chair, carefully avoiding smacking her head on the underside of it. She rose to her hooves shakily, the relief of having them stretched out again completely overcome by her fear. Without even looking, she could feel the weight of the other passengers’ amused gazes.

"I, uhm, I was just, ah..."

Twilight stalled, racing to find an explanation other than 'I was hiding from you so that you couldn't make me tell you about the evil prophecy that has me so terrified.' With a flash of inspiration, she subtly kicked out at the saddlebags she'd thrown under her chair, spilling the books out from it. "I was just trying to pick up all these books!" She exclaimed, gesturing downwards with a hoof.

Rainbow glanced towards them, letting out an appreciative whistle. "Yeesh! I guess you decided to bring the whole library with you instead of leaving it behind, huh?" She teased.

Twilight chuckled nervously. "Well, you know me! Always… Reading books!" She gave Rainbow a strained grin. "Mind giving me a hoof?"

"No problem, egghead," Rainbow taunted, lowering her head to grab a book with her mouth. As soon as she brought it up to the table, though, she spat the tome out and scrunched her nose in disgust. "Blegh, so dusty!" She grumbled, leaning back down for the next, taking a quick glance at the cover this time. "What are these, old fairytale books?"

Twilight was focused on levitating the books Dash was retrieving from under the seat— as well as the ones she herself could see—back into her saddlebags, so her answer was more reflex than anything. "Oh, it's a collection of some of the more authoritative sources in the field of prophecy," she explained absently as she floated another book past her eyes, carefully ensuring each title was entering her saddlebag in the correct order, seeking comfort in the routine. "I'm using them as a comprehensive and cumulative reference guide, to ascertain the possible validity of the prediction concerning me and..."

Twilight trailed off as her mind finally caught up with her mouth. Stupid! She thought. She had slipped straight back into lecture mode, speaking as her normal self conversing with a friend, as she would any other day—and her unconscious mind had been all too eager to blurt out the dreaded truth. She couldn't afford another mistake like that. She couldn't allow herself to become distracted so easily! She'd almost given away everything!

Twilight bit her lip anxiously, sneaking a glance at Rainbow. Fortunately, the pegasus didn't seem to have noticed that Twilight had petered out—she had probably stopped listening a while ago, in fact.

Unfortunately, this was because her attention had instead been focused on one of the books she had picked up, which was now opened up on the seat before her. She was staring at in surprise.

"Wow, Twi!" Rainbow laughed, waving a hoof at the page in front of her. "You? Doodling in a book? I never thought I'd see the day!"

Twilight felt her blood turn to ice. There was only one book on that train that she had written in.

With a loud thud, the tome slammed shut. Rainbow leapt backwards in surprise as it hurtled from her view. She flared her wings to stop herself from crashing into somepony, coming to a hover in the air. Turning in time to see it slot back into the saddlebag, she gave Twilight a shocked stare.

Twilight said nothing. She was panting heavily, a wild look in her eyes. She was staring back at Rainbow, looking like she was about to take flight herself. She looked ready to run.

She looked scared.

“Um, wow?” Rainbow muttered, rubbing a hoof against the back of her head sheepishly. “I, uh… I guess that was private, huh? What, was that your diary or something?”

Twilight did her best to calm herself. She closed her eyes, and took a series of deep breaths. Even so, her voice came out shakily. “I guess… Something like that, yeah.”

Rainbow lowered herself to the floor again, a little tense, and slowly approached Twilight. When the unicorn made no attempt to flee, Rainbow visibly relaxed, and wrapped a leg around her friend.

“Don’t worry, that’s cool,” Rainbow reassured her. “I mean, a bit weird, writing private stuff in someone else’s book, but… I won’t ask. That’s private stuff, your business.” She glanced away for a moment, pensive. “Diaries are a serious no-go area.” She looked back at Twilight, a grin on her face. “Besides, I know you wouldn’t keep anything too important from a friend.”

For a moment, her tone had sounded almost accusatory… But Twilight was sure it was just her imagination, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was clear that Rainbow hadn’t really paid attention to what she had written in the book, since she wasn’t asking for answers.

Or running away.

Still, Twilight had read plenty of psychological analysis texts in her time—even if Rainbow Dash hadn’t. She knew when somepony was trying to relax her, to disarm her. She couldn’t let her guard drop, not even for her friends.

Especially not for her friends.

Despite this, it was relieving to know that she was still the only one who knew of her monstrous (possible, not certain, she sternly reminded herself) future. It gave her a little breathing space, a reason to relax.

Later, when Twilight looked back on the train ride, this was what she would blame for what happened next. That second of relief, that opportunity for calm…

It was like tempering a metal, she would think. It would be gradually heated, have intense pressure applied to it. Both would steadily increase, putting the metal under increased strain, moulding it into a strong, stable structure. Then, suddenly, it was plunged into cold water, granting it a moment of calm, a moment to cool.

And then all that heat—all that pressure—slammed right back onto it, a precise blow that shattered it completely.

Right now, Twilight needed a reprieve. She needed that moment of calm. She clung to it desperately, like a drowning sailor clinging to debris in a sea of despair.

It brought her all the closer to shattering.

“Come on,” she said, breaking the hug and managing to scrape a smile back onto her face. “We should get back to the girls.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow at her. “Uhm, mind if I get something to eat first?” she asked. “Kinda the reason I came all the way to the end of the train. You know, the food cart.”

“Oh. Oh!” Twilight gave Rainbow a nervous grin. “Sure, go ahead, I’ll just wait here.”

Rainbow smiled at her again before trotting over to the stallion behind the counter. She shook her head. To think, you thought she’d come just for you! She chastised herself.

Twilight watched Rainbow pay the vendor thoughtfully. It was true, she had assumed that Rainbow had followed her, to try and force her to reveal her troubles. It was an easy assumption to make—she had been worrying everyone with her behaviour, after all, and Rainbow had seemed the least persuaded by her attempts to avoid the topic—but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't that big of a problem to everypony else. After all, Twilight herself had dropped the issue of Pinkie Pie and her reality-defying ways, hadn't she? Surely if she could set aside such a major problem she had with a friend as the laws of physics themselves, then her friends could do the same for her.

Maybe that could be the topic for a friendship report, she noted absently. Knowing when a problem isn’t really that big of a deal to your friends.

The pain and guilt from having to turn away the care and attention of her friends hadn't left; it still gnawed at her conscience, but she knew it was for the best. It was for their own safety.

All she had to do now was defy centuries of eerily accurate fortune telling, and directly contradict a prediction of her own future, all by herself.

No pressure , then...

Trotting back over to Twilight with a small bag clutched in her mouth, Rainbow Dash noticed Twilight's pensive manner. She decided to wait patiently for the unicorn to return her attention to the world.

That patience didn't last long, though. "Effyfin aw righ’?" She tried to ask, before frowning at the bag.

Twilight snapped out of her reverie, grasping the bag with her magic and levitating it to Dash's side.

"Thanks," the pegasus said. She worked her jaws to loosen them up, glancing around as they stepped through into the next, half-empty train carriage. "Sure is handy having one of you guys around."

"What, unicorns or pack mules?" Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rainbow grinned mischeviously. "Same thing, isn't it?"

"Heh. Don't let Rarity hear you say that, she'd probably faint."

The pair giggled as they left the carriage, passing through the doorway into what Rainbow had earlier noted as a completely empty car.

The moment the door to the last carriage closed marked the end of Twilight's moment of calm.

Rainbow Dash took a second to check that they were alone, before leaping in front of Twilight. She hunched down, taking an aggressive stance.

"Okay, Sparkle," Rainbow growled, "Here's how it is. You're hurting—I don't know how, and I don't know why, but you’re trying to keep it away from us. Well, that stops now.” She jabbed a hoof at a stunned Twilight. “The fact is that I’m not gonna let anything hurt my friends and get away with it. So you tell me, right now, what's wrong!"

Twilight panicked, cowering instinctively; Rainbow’s food sagged out of her telekinetic grip and crumpled on the floor. "What? I... I told you, there's nothing wrong! Just leave me alone!"

"Don't lie to me!" Rainbow barked, taking a step forward. "There's something chewing on you, I just know it! Just let your friends in! We can help!"

"You can't help! None of you can, I can't risk it! I don't want to..."

"Don't want to what?! What is it?”

“Rainbow, please don’t, I can’t—”

“Tell me, Twilight! Tell me why you can’t just let us help you—”

Kill.

"Because I don’t want to have to hurt you!"

There was silence.

Twilight panted heavily. She fought, with every piece of her person, to hold back the tide.

But she couldn't. She had shattered.

"I don't want to hurt any of you," she whispered. "I don't want to have to... But I don't know if I can... I just don't... I can't..."

Twilight broke down, unable to continue. The floodgates burst, and tears streamed down her face. She collapsed to the floor, shuddering before a nonplussed Rainbow Dash.

"Twi... What? What're you talking about?! You'd never hurt any of us... You'd never hurt anypony!"

The huddled form on the floor whimpered. "Wouldn't I? How can you know?"

Rainbow felt completely lost. "Twilight, I don't understand. What happened? Why do you think you'd hurt me?"

Twilight’s response came not as words, but instead as a book, levitating out of her saddlebag and over to Rainbow. The pages flicked wildly until the final page was displayed before her.

"What? Twilight, I—"

"Read it."

"But why can't you—"

"Read it!" Twilight snapped, anger and self-loathing forcing her to raise her head and glare at Rainbow.

Rainbow stared into Twilight's eyes. She was shocked at what she saw there, at the fury and fear. She could see that she wasn't going to get any more out of Twilight, though, so she slowly nodded and reluctantly turned her attention to the page in front of her.

She read.

Twilight cringed. She watched anxiously, her heart sinking further with every passing second.

As she read, Rainbow's expression shifted from confusion and worry to just plain confusion. Her bewilderment only grew as she neared the end of the prophecy, until finally she finished, an expression of horrified understanding dawning on her face. She looked back into the terrified unicorn's eyes.

"Twilight?" She croaked. "What... What does this... This is what's got you acting all weird?"

Twilight nodded numbly, averting her eyes. With her attention gone, the floating book dropped to the floor with a soft thud.

“But... that’s... Why?!” Rainbow whispered, feeling bile rise in her own throat. “How could anypony think that?!”

"The prediction is clear," Twilight tried to keep her voice level, emotionally bracing herself for what was to come. "I have to... I'm going to..." She choked, unable to go any further, mewling pathetically.

For a few moments, Rainbow Dash struggled to repress her own revulsion. As she watched, Twilight cringed; she was anticipating panic, anger, abandonment.

Finally, Rainbow Dash closed her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before opening them, and as she looked back at Twilight, she seemed calmer. For a moment, a shadow of something... Darker... flickered in her eyes, before disappearing. "Okay, I think I... Get it, now.” She shuddered at the memory of the words. “That’s... That’s horrible, Twilight.”

Twilight sniffed. “You see?” She whispered. “I can’t stay around you girls... I’m dangerous, Dash! I don’t want to hurt any of you, but I—”

“Wait... you actually believe it?!"

"Huh?"

Rainbow Dash snorted. "Twi... I don't know why anyone would want to write something like that." She shook her head in anger, adding darkly, "I know what I'd like to do to them, though..." She raised her head and stared at Twilight again, her eyes blazing with intensity. "But I do know that some book isn't going to change who you are!"

"Rainbow, you don't understand—"

"No, Twilight, you don't understand!" She replied scathingly. "You've been acting weird this whole train ride because some book says you have to do something?" She jabbed a hoof at Twilight then, disbelievingly. "You think that just because you read something, you have to change who you are? You're really willing to give up on yourself, and let some piece of writing tell you what to do!"

Rainbow paused for a minute, apparently thinking. Twilight was silent, rendered too bewildered by Rainbow's outburst to interrupt, too terrified to make eye contact.

"Okay, bad example," Rainbow finally continued. "I mean, there are laws and stuff telling ponies what to do, and you pretty much live on books, so you probably learnt a lot of the stuff you live by from the things you've read, right?"

It took a moment for Twilight to realise this was a question directed at her, but she nodded furiously when she did.

"Right," Rainbow confirmed. "Still, this is different. This is something you know is wrong, something you know you'd never do—heck, we all know you'd never do it!"

Rainbow finally seemed to calm down. She reached out a hoof and rested it comfortingly on Twilight's shoulder, trying to give her a friendly smile. Her eyes, though, kept that determined fire.

"You're the only pony who can decide what you do, Twi."

Twilight tore herself from Rainbow's gaze, shaking her head sadly. "You still don't fully understand, Dash," she whimpered. "This book... The predictions in them... They've always, always come true. I spent hours at the library, going through all the history books I could find, trying to find any time when it was wrong." She finally looked back up, trembling. "It never was. Not once."

Rainbow seemed to consider this seriously for a moment. Then, she snorted again.

"So what?" She asked, anger creeping back into her voice. "You're the smartest pony I know, and you've been wrong plenty of times!" She winced, giving twilight a sideways glance. "No offense."

Twilight didn't respond. She felt like she couldn't. She just wanted to sink through the floor of the carriage.

"Point is," Rainbow continued regardless, gesturing wildly with a hoof, "You might be right most of the time, but that doesn't mean you're always gonna be right!" Rainbow suddenly perked up as an idea hit her. "It's like when I practise one of my aerial routines!" She explained. "I can get it exactly right ninety-nine times in practise, but that doesn't mean I won't mess it up the hundredth time!" She broke off, chuckling. "Actually, knowing me, I probably would."

Twilight sniffed, a small smile quivering its way across her lips. Rainbow took this encouragingly; she placed a hoof under Twilight’s chin and raised her head until she met Rainbow's eyes again.

"If you don't want to do... That... Then don't do it. I don't care how clever or powerful the pony who wrote that book is, you're Twilight Sparkle! You've taken down alicorns and Ursa Minors and chaos spirits before! What's some measly fortune-teller compared to that?"

"But what if those things only happened because they were foretold?" Twilight asked quietly, voicing the fears that had haunted her since she had read the very first prophecy in the book—the one that led to Nightmare Moon’s defeat. "What if we didn't actually have any say in them at all?"

Rainbow rolled her eyes in contempt. “I don’t buy that,” she said. “There’s no way that every little decision we make, all leading up to those big ones, can be, like, set out in advance! That’d be too much work for even Celestia to handle!” She took a step back, flaring her wings impressively. "Besides, D’ya really think anypony can tell this filly what to do?" She demanded, striking a mock-aggressive pose.

Twilight couldn't help it; she giggled. It was strange; the weight of her fear was still there, but it felt... Lighter, somehow. It was like Rainbow Dash had taken half of it, and filled the gap with bubbles. She hadn’t said anything Twilight hadn’t thought about herself, but the way she said it... Maybe it was just the fact that it came from somepony else as well as herself, but it boosted Twilight’s confidence nonetheless.

It didn’t make her feel any braver, though.

"I'm scared, Dash." Twilight managed to hold Rainbow's gaze this time, instead of averting her eyes. "I'm scared that I'm going to be made to do something wrong. Something I don't want to. I'm scared that I'm going to... Change."

In a heartbeat, Rainbow had surged forward, pressing into Twilight's face again. Her eyes were a battleground for compassion and anger, and that same flicker from before had returned. "You won't, Twi," she growled. "I won't let you."

They remained that way for some time. Endless green seas passed by outside the windows, and the great city grew ever closer as they stared into each other, seeking comforts for their worries.

Finally, Rainbow took a step back. "I trust you, Twilight," she whispered.

With those simple words, the pain and fear Twilight had felt since she had shown Rainbow the truth… It simply disappeared. She had done what Twilight couldn't; she'd looked the problem in the eye, and she had dismissed it. She knew that Twilight had thought she might have to ki… To hurt her... But she didn't care.

She still trusted her.

"Thank you," Twilight whispered, holding back tears of a different kind now.

Rainbow nodded, before glancing out of the window. "Looks like we're nearly there," she noted, before glancing back at Twilight. "We should go back to the others." Her eyes said far more than her words did; they demanded honesty.

"I… I can't tell them, Dash," Twilight muttered, shaking her head. "Not yet. I don't want to worry them, or... Scare them. I love you all too much to lose any of you." She glanced up at her friend, suddenly a little worried. “And you can’t tell them either, Rainbow. Pinkie Promise me you won’t!”

Rainbow glowered at Twilight. “Really? You really want me to do that silly dance of hers again?”

Twilight didn’t crumble under her glare. Conceding defeat, Rainbow sighed and hung her head, clearly disappointed. "I guess I can understand," she admitted, mechanically carrying out the routine whilst she spoke. "I mean, if I were Fluttershy, I don't think I'd still be on the same train as you!” She paused for a moment, heaving out a humourless chuckle, before raising her face to give Twilight a serious look. “You’ll have to tell everyone sooner or later, Twilight. If you really think this is a risk... They deserve to know."

Twilight nodded. "This is why I came," she explained, levitating the prophecy book back towards herself. Her voice took on a note of determination that she hadn’t felt since boarding the train, and its strengthening tone buoyed her confidence further. "I'm going to find out who wrote this, and I'm going to ask them why. I'm going to find a way out."

Twilight climbed to her hooves, returning the book to her saddlebags. As an afterthought, she picked up Rainbow’s food again, and trotted over to join her at the carriage door. Rainbow nodded her approval.

"Good," she grunted. "And I'm coming with you."

"What? No, Dash—"

"Nopony threatens my friends," Rainbow cut in forcefully, glaring at Twilight. "And nopony gets to hurt them like they hurt you. So I’m gonna let them know that. You’ll get your answers, and they'll get what's coming to 'em."

Twilight didn't think she'd ever felt more worry and comfort all at once. "Thank you," she said again, resting a hoof briefly on Rainbow's shoulder.

"Just doing what any friend would, Twi."

They left the empty carriage together to rejoin their friends, as the train plunged forward into the shadows of Canterlot's heady spires.

Research

ACT II

OPENING SHOTS

Settling back into her seat for the last few minutes of the journey, Twilight berated herself once again for being such an idiot.

The answer should have been obvious all along, really. Given that she had leapt onto the next train to Canterlot just after a huge delivery of books—not to mention that she was bearing saddlebags filled with them—the perfect excuse for her odd behaviour should have been obvious; panicking over a mix-up with her order, she was desperately trying to return vital texts back to the Canterlot Archives. Maybe there had just been too much to think about until the need to consult Paige Turner occurred to her, at which point this most convenient of explanations was just impossible to overlook. It was simple, it was believable—and more importantly, it was Twilight all over.

After the ‘Tardiness Debacle’, as Rarity had appropriately labelled one of the most shameful moments of Twilight’s life, her friends were more than willing to believe that she would get so worked up over a mistake like this. It went hoof-in-hoof with her tendency to fret over the smallest of details and doubt her own tenacity, leading to the kind of stress that would cause her to avoid other ponies and lash out if they got too close. Heck, it even matched up with what she had said about the problem earlier when Pinkie questioned her—it really was something that her friends couldn’t do much to help with, since she was just returning some books.

Well, it didn’t quite match up to what she had said earlier when trying to get the girls off her back, but nopony seemed to notice that. They were glad just to have dealt with the issue. All in all, it was the perfect excuse.

…No, not ‘excuse’. It was the perfect lie.

Most of her friends were happy to accept her explanation. They had all seen Twilight worked up over something like it before, and they were all just glad that she had come forward with it before it had devolved into another ‘Tardiness Debacle’. After her apology, the group had become much more relaxed, believing that all was once again well between them.

It wasn’t, though. Twilight was burning inside. Lying to her friends like this, over and over again… it was so hard to bear. She was deliberately misleading the girls—the friends who she shared everything with, who trusted her so implicitly. No, even more than that; by not coming forward with the truth, she could be leading one of them to their death. Even after all Rainbow had said, Twilight still felt that doubt, that worry, that horror.

She knew she would never do anything to harm her friends… But could she even trust herself, at this point?

***

Rainbow Dash sprawled out across her seat behind Twilight, glaring at the back of her head. Despite Rainbow’s best attempts to act normal, she couldn’t quite manage it. Every time Twilight lied to her closest friends, she had to repress the urge to scream at them. How can they not question it? She wondered. How can they be falling for her con like this?

Rainbow had promised her silence, though. She had sworn an oath, to a friend in need. Not that she wouldn’t think twice about breaking it if she needed to, but for now she just wanted to protect everypony; the girls, from Twilight’s stupid idea, and Twilight herself, from the backlash that telling the girls everything would create.

She had been honest, back in the other carriage. If Twilight had told anypony else about this… Rainbow shuddered to think of the consequences. At best, there’d be anger and bruises; at worst, there would be the shattered remnants of a broken friendship.

She knew, deep inside, that it was wrong. Something like this? No matter how ridiculous the whole prophecy idea seemed to her, the fact that her friends might—just might—be in danger because of her silence was almost too much to bear.

Loyalty warred inside of her. Her loyalty to the pony she wanted to protect, and her loyalty to the friends she loved.

For now, she would keep her promise. There was no immediate danger, after all; she certainly hadn’t “abandoned” anypony lately, and she still couldn’t believe that Twilight would ever do something like that. If the worst came to pass, though, Rainbow wouldn’t hesitate to break her promise, to ignore a prophecy she refused to believe and save the ponies she cared about.

Even if it meant breaking Twilight’s heart.

No! She cried out in her mind, resisting the urge to smack a hoof into her own face. You can save her, you can save all of them. Nopony gets left behind.

Not this time…

The world around Rainbow Dash began to shake, almost bouncing her off the seat. She glanced around in confusion for a moment, before realising that whilst she had been lost in thought, the train had arrived at Canterlot Station. With a juddering groan, their own carriage ground to a halt.

“We’re heeeeeeeeere!” Pinkie Pie yelled, bounding across the carriage with all her usual energy. As the rest of the group passed her by and headed off the train, Rainbow did her best to play her part. She yawned, she stretched, she plastered on that cocky self-assurance that she was known for. Bringing up the rear of the group, Twilight seemed to be doing much the same; murmuring to herself as she walked and scribbling notes onto a scroll held out in front of her, she was the vey picture of Twilight-ness. She also pointedly ignored Rainbow as she passed her seat.

With a grunt, Rainbow Dash launched herself into the air. Eager to leave the confines of the carriage, she glided over the group’s heads and out of the train door, soaring into the slowly darkening sky above the near-empty platform. The clear blue expanse and crisp air above beckoned to her, but she resisted the urge to truly spread her wings, settling instead for a few quick laps of the station so as to stay close to the group and keep an eye on Twilight.

Besides, why show off now when she had a whole event dedicated to her—and, she supposed, a couple of other possible recruits—in two days time? Then she would really give Canterlot a show, and maybe bag herself a Wonderbolts position at the same time…

Passing by her friends, she was snapped out of her daydreams and back to reality by the sound of Twilight’s apologetic voice.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie, but this can’t wait until tomorrow. I just have to take these books back to the Archives tonight! I’m sure you’ll all manage to have fun without me, though!”

“What’s all this about?” Rainbow asked, swooping down to land next to Fluttershy. Pinkie instantly whipped around to face her, her mouth set in a frown.

“Twilight’s going off to that library instead of coming with us!” Pinkie explained.

“Coming with us where?” Rainbow asked.

Pinkie tutted. “I told you already that as soon as we got here, we totally had to go and check out that sweet shop!” She said. “You know, the one run by Mrs. Cake’s great-aunt’s-second-cousin-twice-removed?”

“Huh, you’re right. How did I ever forget that?”

Pinkie giggled, bouncing on the spot. “Because you’re a silly filly! Now hurry up, let’s get some grub!”

Rainbow scratched the back of her head with a hoof and gave Twilight a sidelong glance. “Actually, Pinkie, I think I wanna… tag along with Twilight?” Her eyes wandered around the station awkwardly, hoping for inspiration. “Visiting that musty old library of hers sounds… uh… fun?”

Pinkie Pie stopped bouncing.“Fun? You think that would be fun? You’d never think something like that! You’d say it was boring!” She paused to give Twilight an apologetic look. “No offense.”

“Some taken, if you don’t mind.”

Pinkie continued as if Twilight had never spoken, giving both her and Rainbow suspicious glances. “This isn’t some kind of super lame prank, is it? Because my Dashie would never turn down super-sugary snacks for some boring, battered old books!”

“I’m still right here, Pinkie…” Twilight grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Pinks, there’s no prank here! Twilight just… ah…” Rainbow wracked her brains for a moment, before inspiration struck. “She said that the Archives have, like, a super-rare old Daring Do book! And it’s, ah, the only one in the whole world! I gotta go see it!” Rainbow nodded emphatically, pleased that she’d found a convincing excuse to keep a close eye on Twilight.

“But you promised me, Dash!” Pinkie whined, sliding up to her. “You promised that we could go eat loads of sugaaaaaar!”

“Well, if you did promise her, Rainbow, then I guess you should go with her,” Twilight said, staring at Rainbow sternly. “I mean, we don’t break promises, right? I’m only going to the Archives to drop these wrong ones off, after all. I’m sure there are other things I can show you around the city tomorrow, and we can check out that book tomorrow.” She gave Rainbow a meaningful look.

Rainbow Dash stared back at Twilight for a long moment. “Well, if that’s all you’re going to do, then I guess I can skip it.” She took a step back from Pinkie Pie. “But you better take me along to… ah… wherever you go tomorrow!” She warned, fighting to hold a smile on her lips instead of a scowl.

Twilight sighed. “We don’t break promises, Rainbow. You’ll come with me.”

Rainbow Dash nodded, prompting Pinkie Pie to squeal with joy. “Oh, this’ll just be great, Rainbow!” She babbled, already hopping away. “We can get some samples of everything, and get some discounts because I’m kinda-sorta-not-really-but-totally-close-enough family, and we can…”

Twilight glanced upwards, towards the setting sun. “It’s getting a little late,” she said. “I’ll have to hurry if I’m going to get into the library before they officially close.” She turned back to her friends. “I’ll see you all back at our room in the castle later tonight, right?”

The group murmured their assent, and Twilight gave them all one last, almost sad smile before turning and galloping across the platform and towards the exit, barrelling past the still-chattering Pinkie and disappearing around a corner.

“Well, I suppose I’ll set off too,” Rarity spoke after a moment. “I want to check in with Fancy Pants tonight, and make sure he can spread the news that my new designs will be on show tomorrow—along with my fabulous models, of course!” Letting out a small, self-satisfied chuckle, she turned to Fluttershy. “Would you accompany me, dear? We’ll pass some wonderful dress shops on the way, and I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of properly meeting Fancy Pants yet!”

Fluttershy gave a small nod and a smile, and the pair headed off together, leaving Applejack and Rainbow Dash alone on the platform.

“Well, ah reckon ah’m just gonna head straight on down to the castle,” Applejack said. “This fancy ol’ city’s got nuthin’ for a girl like me.” She grinned at Rainbow. “Y’all should probably start flappin’ them wings, or yer gonna loose Pinkie.” With a happy little whistle, Applejack set off herself.

After a moment’s hesitation and one last glance in the direction Twilight had sped off, Rainbow leapt back into the air and headed after her bouncing pink friend.

***

The Canterlot Archives had once been a single, enormous circular building, standing alone in the centre of a cobblestone square. It had expanded greatly since its first construction, with new wings added and even some small gardens on its grounds, but it still loomed over the nearest shops. It remained one of the most opulent-looking structures in Canterlot, rivalled only by the royal castle, and the marble columns and enormous domed roof of the central building gave it a feeling that was more akin to a place of worship than one of study—though Twilight sometimes had trouble distinguishing between the two.

Beyond the entrance to the main circular building, though, this illusion was completely dispelled. Although the same reverent atmosphere and echoing silence might have been found in a chapel, the building's interior instead resembled any other library in Equestria; shelves hung heavy on each wall, burdened with hundreds of heavy tomes, and the air was thick with the scent of parchment. Bookcases were organised in a vast series of concentric circles, shrinking inwards from the outer walls of the round building and towards the centre, where a single row of counters encircled an enormous golden globe, slowly and continually rotating upon its axis. It shimmered with inlaid enchantments, spells created long ago to protect the many valuable and ancient tomes in the building from the natural damage of dust, heat, and even wear and tear. It was also rumoured to house ancient defensive spells that would assault anypony who attempted to deliberately tamper with the books, but such tales—quite probably due to their very nature—had remained untested and unfounded.

It was also said that the Archives held at least one copy of every publication that had ever been made—and though Twilight had trouble believing such a bold claim, she knew from experience that its itinerary was indeed vast. That was why the Archives acted as a repository for most of the libraries scattered throughout Equestria; should you be missing a title, the Canterlot Archives was almost certain to have several lying around somewhere.

In fact, the wealth of knowledge in this immense building was just a snapshot of its total fortune; below the ground, even more cavernous rooms existed, filled to capacity with texts gathered from all across the world.

So, the idea that out of the uncountable volumes available, one particular prophecy book could be sent to one particular mare at such a crucial time seemed quite unlikely.

It had to have been set up—and if anypony here could help her find out how or why, it was the Chief Librarian.

Moving swiftly towards the globe, Twilight passed many empty reading tables, scattered seemingly at random throughout the room. In fact, she only saw one other pony as she trotted past one of the innermost rings, and he bore the navy sash that marked him as a member of the library staff. She began to worry a little; it must be even later than she had thought, and Paige may have already begun closing for the night. She might even have left entirely—she was ageing, after all; Twilight had nothing to assure her that Paige Turner would even still be working here other than her conviction that the mare she knew would never leave her Archives if she had the choice.

Twilight was actually a little disappointed in herself; it took something like this, to remind her of a pony who had helped her so much in her studies. She found herself hoping that Paige was still here, so that she could at least see her again.

Luckily, as she hurried past the last circle of bookcases, Twilight caught sight of the blue-coat and the scroll-and-inkpot cutie mark that she remembered so well, as the pony they belonged to removed her own sash. With a happy little cry, she trotted up to the counter.

"Paige! Miss Turner, I—”

"I'm afraid the Archives are about to close, miss…" the earth pony began as she turned, before cutting off in surprise at the sight in front of her. "Miss Sparkle?" She gasped. "Is that you?"

Twilight giggled. "I'm afraid so!" she bounded around to an opening in the counter, rushing to embrace the librarian. “It’s so good to see you again!”

Paige returned the hug for a moment, surprised, before leaning back to get a good look at Twilight through her thick-rimmed glasses. "My, my! It's been, what, two years now since I last saw you here?"

Twilight had, in fact, visited the Archives only a few months ago, but given that Paige hadn’t seen her that night when she searched for a time spell, she could only nod.

Paige ran a hoof through her light green mane, which seemed to contain a fair amount more grey than Twilight remembered from all the days she had spent in the elderly mare’s company. They had spent long hours together in the Archives; sharing the young filly’s appreciation for literature, Paige had been only too happy to help Twilight with her studies. She had been the one to introduce her to the Dewey Decimal System, to systems of organisation and planning that had become the basis for so much of her life. Twilight had often thought of Paige as being a part of the library itself; like some great reference book, she seemed to always be to hand and to have just the information Twilight needed. She wondered how differently she might have turned out without Paige’s constant guidance.

"You're down in Ponyville now, right?” Paige asked, interrupting Twilight’s reminiscing. “Ended up with your own library, I hear!"

Twilight nodded emphatically, and Paige responded with an almost proud smile. "I should have seen that coming, really! You practically worked here back when you were studying under Princess Celestia—and you did such a good job of it, too! I tell you, these new assistants I’ve gotten myself lumbered with could learn a lot from visiting your place, I’m sure!" She frowned for a moment, thoughtful. "In fact, I think I was sending a shipment over to you—just the other day, actually…"

A shiver ran through Twilight's body as she thought about what came with that shipment. It threatened to suck all the pleasantness out of the reunion, but she forced herself to keep smiling. "That's actually why I'm here," she explained. "There was a bit of a... problem. With the delivery."

"Oh, really?" Paige moved away from Twilight, heading back around the desk to consult the Archives’ order book. "Did one of our carriers forget something? I swear, those foals barely even care at times! They're not like you—always so careful, you were!” She turned back for a moment with a sly smile. “Not to say there weren’t accidents, though! Say, remember when you spilt some coffee on one of Shining Star's shield spell scrolls that you'd borrowed, and you tried to create a replica of it to replace it with?" She chuckled as she shuffled through her records. "I'm sure I still have that somewhere! Written on a bed sheet, wasn't it? Ah, but you always were a resourceful filly! Why, I remember—"

"There was no problem with the delivery itself," Twilight interrupted. Somehow, she had completely forgotten Paige’s habit of drifting off topic in the middle of conversation, or how it had tended to irritate her during her studies. Regardless, she was in no mood to relive any more of her most embarrassing moments. "I was actually given a text I hadn't requested at all." Loosening the straps on her saddlebag, she floated the dreaded book over to Paige's desk.

“Oh?” Paige glanced at the cover as it settled onto the counter. “That’s rather unusual! I can’t believe I’d miss something like an unrequested book leaving the Archives!” She giggled a little to herself, turning her attention back to her records. “Well, I’ll just check the order sheet again for… ‘Predictions and Prodigies’, was it?”

“Prophecies,” Twilight corrected absently as she gazed up at the towering globe, analysing the flickering runes on its surface. She’d often found it relaxing to study those ancient, mystifying spells, and Celestia knew she could do with some calming. “Specifically, a more recent and complete version of it. I had my own copy in the Canterlot Castle library, but it was little more than a reference guide to other texts…”

Paige hummed thoughtfully as she nosed her way through the outgoing books section of her records. “Yes, I think I know that one,” she said. “We’ve got a dozen or so copies of it here. Strange little number, though; no publication date, no recognised author, no publication house, and no actual content other than references to other books about fortune-telling and whatnot!” She shook her head a little. “I don’t think we’d ever loaned out a single copy, right up until last… ah, here we are!”

Twilight snapped around. “You’ve found it?”

Paige gestured with one hoof at a table in the centre of the page. “Yes, right here; ‘one copy of ‘Predictions and Prophecies’, on loan to Miss Twilight Sparkle, pending confirmation of intention to borrow’.” She tutted lightly to herself. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten that! It was the first time in ages that I was actually unsure about an order—but, knowing you, I felt it was safe to assume that you’d rather have more books than less! My years must be catching up with me, to overlook something like that…”

Twilight wasn’t listening any more. She was staring at that tiny line of hoofwriting, desperate to find something she’d missed. There was nothing more to be seen, though; no secret message, no new clue to guide her forward.

It was a dead end.

Panic began to build in her chest again, and she struggled to keep it down. Think, she ordered herself. There must be something more. Think about—

Kill.

She winced. No, not that! Think about this logically. You’re standing in the biggest library there is, with a mare who knows it back-to-front. There must be something more to find here!

“Paige,” Twilight called out after a few moments; while she’d been lost in thought, the mare had drifted across to a nearby bookshelf, and was reorganising a few titles. “What did you say about this book?”

“Hmm?” She turned to face Twilight again. “What’s that? Oh, that prophecy book. I was just saying that I left it in for you. I figured you’d rather have more books than less! It was probably just one of these new assistants, the ones I was telling you about?” Tutting, she pointed at a book in front of herself. “You see this? They’ve put an anthology here, in the Archaeology section! Absolutely hopeless I’m afraid, my dear.” She raised her voice. “Crystal, could you check Anthologies? I have a sneaking suspicion that somepony’s made a mistake…”

“No, not that,” Twilight replied, struggling not to feel frustrated. “I mean before, about how there’s no author?”

Paige turned, frowning. “Did I say—” Her eyes lit up after a moment. “Oh, yes, I remember! No author, no publisher, no date of release! Most curious.” She stopped again. “Come to think of it, they arrived in a rather odd fashion, too. A good dozen or so of them were just left on the doorstep, a good few years back! I guess some mailpony just didn’t care enough to wait a little. I swear, Twilight, everypony has to rush about these days! It’s not like it used to be; why, back when I was a filly—”

“So you can’t identify who delivered them, either?” Twilight cut off the elder mare’s ramblings, struggling to hide her disappointment.

Apparently forgetting about the shelf, Paige returned to her counter. “I’m afraid not, my dear!” she said. Closing the order book, she squinted at Twilight. “Say, why are you so interested in the book? It’s just an accidental delivery, after all—it’s not like you’re doing another one of your reports on it!”

“A-actually, yes, I am!” Twilight leapt onto the explanation given to her. “This book, It… ah, it really… affected me, so I thought I’d do some research on the field of prophecy. Since I was in town anyway, I thought I’d stop by here and check the book’s history, before delivering my report to the Princess in person.”

Paige beamed at her. “That’s my Twilight!” She said. “Always going those three steps further. Why, I can still remember—”

“You were right, Miss Paige,” a voice called from behind Twilight. “A Collected History of Shetland Excavations, in with the anthologies!”

Twilight turned to face the newcomer. It was the stallion she’d past earlier, the library worker who had been organising some other shelf. His dark brown mane and purple coat contrasted greatly with the pale yellow glow of his horn as he floated the offending book over to the correct shelf.

He almost dropped it when he saw Twilight looking at him, though.

“M-miss Sparkle!” he stuttered, flustering. “Why, what a pleasant surprise!”

“Do you know each other?” Paige asked, pleased. “Why, Twilight, I didn’t think you knew any stallions here in Canterlot!”

“Actually, I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Miss Sparkle before,” the stallion corrected her. “I just… recognise her. Who wouldn’t? The Princess’ protégé, the Element of Magic—the saviour of Equestria several times over, no less! You’d have to be blind to not know her on sight!”

Twilight chuckled. “You’d be surprised, actually…”

“Well, Twilight, this is Crystal Clear. He came to me not three months ago—he was practically begging for a job, would you believe! I’m glad I gave him the chance, though. He’s the hardest working pony here!”

Crystal tittered, blushing. “I don’t think I can accept such an honour,” he said modestly. “You still work here, after all, Miss Paige.”

Paige snorted. “Nonsense! He puts in far more time and effort than any of the rest of the slackers I made the mistake of hiring, Twilight—he’s working now, after all! Why, you’re still here long after I leave, some nights!”

Crystal gave Twilight a worried glance for a moment. “Not that often, Miss Paige,” he corrected quickly. “Anyway, I think I should be off now. I’ve got an important… meeting, tonight.” He nodded at Twilight. “It was an honour to meet you, Miss Sparkle.”

With that, Crystal turned and left, disappearing around one of the bookshelves. Twilight stared after him for a few moments.

“Off to meet some pretty young filly, I’d imagine!” Paige said. “Still, he’s a little odd, that one. It’s all work when he’s here, but he doesn’t have much to say about anything else he does.” She winked at Twilight. “In a way, he reminds me of you!”

Twilight blushed, turning away. It was true; she hadn’t ever really shared much with Paige. Then again, there hadn’t been much to share in those days outside of being the Princess’ student.

Paige glanced up towards one of the high-vaulted windows, now darkening rapidly. “I suppose you’d better hurry away, as well! You should head on down to the castle— the Princess won’t be around all night, and I need to close this place up!”

Blinking, Twilight realised how dark it was—night had fallen. “You’re right, I should get moving.” She leaned in for one last hug. “It was great seeing you again, Paige. I’m sorry I couldn’t spend longer with you.”

“Don’t you fret, Miss Sparkle,” Paige reassured her. “I’m sure you’ve got far more important things to do than keep an old mare company.”

Kill.

“Believe me, Paige,” Twilight muttered, squeezing her tightly for a moment. “There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than spent as much time as I can with the ones I care about.”

A few seconds passed before they broke the hug. Paige gave her a very odd look, but Twilight just replied with a simple smile and turned to leave. She only made it to the first circle of bookcases, though, before one last thought struck her.

“Hey, Paige?” She called back to the librarian. “What’s your own take on the field of prophecy?”

Paige looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“The idea that the future is predictable; that it’s set out before us, and we all must follow a set path. What’s your take?”

Paige was silent for a long moment, staring at the ground. Finally she raised her gaze again, looking back into Twilight’s heavy eyes. “I think we all make the choices we do because we must,” she said. “Whether that’s because we can, or because we have to… what does it matter?”

Twilight stared at her old mentor, puzzling the statement over for a few seconds, unpicking what meaning she could. Finally, she gave a smile that seemed almost sad.

“Thank you, Paige,” she whispered. “I never really said it to you before, so… thank you. For everything.”

Then she turned and galloped away, through the growing shadows of the library and out into the cooling darkness of Canterlot.

The Storm

It couldn’t be.

Hours had passed since she’d first finished reading Predictions and Prophecies. She had spent those hours frantically researching all the events it referenced; verifying its accuracy, cross-referencing the surprisingly accurate forecasts with the historical records that followed. In each case, she found the same chilling result; an exact match.

Everything this book predicted had come true.

She couldn’t deny the startling accuracy of the book. Quite honestly, she wouldn’t have doubted it very much even before reading it. She already had a vague knowledge of the strength of prophecy in Equestria; it was a well-recorded fact that, for thousands of years, there were ponies that had been born with a special talent in predicting the future. It was an ability most commonly found in unicorns; they could use their magic to help them part the veil between what was and what would be. She’d even experienced some of this first-hand, with the folklore that had led her to the Nightmare Moon incident.

With a slight shade of her head, Twilight dislodged herself from the mound of reference books she’d buried herself under and returned to the original text. A shudder passed through her body as she flicked backwards through the heavily-scripted pages, searching for the prophesised return of the darkened alicorn.

This edition of the book was, as she had suspected earlier, far more comprehensive than the version that she’d previously owned. In addition, the predictions held inside were ordered chronologically by the date when they had been made, rather than alphabetised as before. They detailed visions of the future, whose origins stretched as far back as the pre-classical era, all the way to the founding of Equestria itself.

And every single one had come true.

Twilight had never really been that interested in the field of prophecy. She’d intended to research it eventually, but had always found more interesting and pressing matters to attend to, and hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Even so, she had assumed it to be more of a hit-and-miss process; a system of identifying possible futures that may or may not yet come to be, depending upon the actions of those in the present.

Even her own dabbling in time travel hadn’t changed that opinion; despite the fact that her actions she had taken to prevent that future instead ensured it, Twilight had been confident that it was her own act of interfering with her timeline that had caused this. Under normal circumstances, she felt it more likely that there would be a range of possible futures; options which would result from the decisions made by ponies in the present. Essentially, she had believed that the future was not set in stone—and, therefore, that it was not so surely predictable.

Given the nature of what she had read today, she clung to that belief desperately. It was all that stood between her and utter despair.

Finally, Twilight reached the prediction she’d been searching for; an entry which had apparently been recorded on the eve of very first Summer Sun Celebration, exactly one year after Celestia had banished her sister to the moon. The language was particularly archaic, and had required the help of several translation books to make it readable, with the translation written alongside the original. For the tenth time, Twilight read the converted verse out loud to herself.

“On the thousandth year of moonless day,
The stars will aid in her escape.
The night will surge through starlit door,
To bring forth darkness evermore.
But fear not the seeming end of day,
For twilight follows in its wake,
Bringing forth harmony once again,
To right the night and ease day’s strain.”

Twilight was certain that she could have dismissed this prediction as a mere vague statement, left open enough for interpretation and a wider application, if she hadn’t lived it herself.

“‘The thousandth year of moonless day’ clearly references the Summer Sun Celebration, rather than some arbitrary, distant date.” Twilight spoke mechanically, analytically dissecting the paragraph and repeating the same speech she had made several times so far, as if taking notes.

“‘Night surging to bring forth darkness’ could only be Nightmare Moon’s plan to have an everlasting night, and ‘bringing forth harmony’ would be the return of the Elements of Harmony. ‘Easing day’s strain’ could be one of two things; it may refer to either Luna relieving Celestia of the duty of raising the moon, or perhaps the transfer of the Elements themselves to their new hosts.”

She then stopped for a moment, gulping, before continuing with the part she dreaded the most. “And… And ‘twi—’” she shuddered, before forcing herself to continue, “…‘Twilight following in day’s wake’ must be about… Me. I am Celestia’s student, so I do follow her, both in an educational and literal sense—in that I followed her request to travel to Ponyville.”

The realisation that a pony from almost a thousand years ago had not only known that she would exist, but that she would be living a very specific life as Celestia’s student, and that she would be the one to restore the Elements… It was actually less crushing than the first time she had read it, but it was no less worrying. It meant that, even from so long ago, her very life could have been seen as being carried out as a predetermined procedure, with no choice on her part.

What did this make her? Merely an actor on a stage, speaking her rehearsed, fated lines?

Twilight forced herself to continue, skipping ahead through several centuries to the next relevant prediction. As she progressed, the wording became closer to the common Equestrian Twilight was used to, and so there were fewer notes in the margins. She finally reached a marked section, reciting it in her head this time.

When twilight bridges day and night,
The greatest threat shall be in sight.
The mismatched god, confined in stone,
Let loose once more to claim his throne.
Through tricks and despair shall he reign,
‘Til harmony be reached again.

There could be absolutely no doubt in her mind what this was talking about. It exactly matched the events of Discord’s return, from the time frame—after Twilight had ‘bridged day and night’ by restoring Luna to Celestia’s side—right down to how he had first defeated, and then been defeated by, the Elements of Harmony. Twilight shuddered again, a chill running down her spine at the very memory of the chaotic events of that day, before flipping the page.

The flow of time, disrupted here;
The future and past connect in fear.
But efforts made to change events
Will only force fusion of tense.

Memories of the week she’d spent living in fear of the future flooded her mind again. Was that all that was happening now—another baseless assumption, leading to her own terror?

Had she learned nothing from her future self? Or, was this something more?

Shaking, she flipped further forward in the tome, coming closer to the end… Closer to the part that she most dreaded seeing again.

A face, in absence, may be changed,
From what our memory has claimed;
But not as much as what we see
In joining of guard and royalty.
Heed the sibling’s boldest claim,
For it is truth, despite her aim!
But though the threat may seem so tall,
It shall be proven: love conquers all.

Her brother’s wedding. The day she almost lost everything he held dear; her brother, her foalsitter, her friends… Her Princess.

If any of them had seen this… If they had known of this prediction, would it have changed anything? Would they have believed her condemnation of Cadence more readily? Or were they all destined to never see this verse, to ensure it came to pass as it was written?

Twilight knew she was stalling. These questions, any other day, would have held her captivated—but this was not any other day.

She could avoid it no longer.

Twilight turned the final page, revealing the last recorded prophecy in the book. Absently, she noted that although it bore no date of prediction, the ink seemed far darker than that found with the previous few listed predictions, suggesting that it was a much more recent entry. With a terror slowly gripping her heart once again, and ignoring the many notes she had shakily scrawled around the prophecy earlier, Twilight forced herself to vocalise the entry, despite the fact that she knew it by heart at this point.

“The Crystal’s return will be the herald.
This is the sign that the Death of Harmony has come.

When Honesty turns against itself,
When Loyalty abandons the ones it loves.
When Laughter fears its own nature,
When Generosity buckles under Kindness’ weight.
Then, shall the Spark of Magic choose.

Magic must break Harmony, in order to save it.

Magic will kill a wielder of the Elements.”

The library was silent for many long moments. It was as if the air itself were stilled by the weight of the revelation, holding a breath it had never taken.

Finally, a single sound could be heard—a stuttering, mournful, terrible noise that seemed to echo impossibly throughout the building.

Twilight Sparkle was crying with fear.

She couldn't remember ever being so terrified. All thoughts of raising issues with the prediction… Any ideas of analysing things the recentness of the entry, or the stark difference to the rhyming format of the rest of the book… They were all lost in the haze of horror.

Twilight was left completely distraught by the very concept. It was so unthinkable that her mind simply couldn't handle it, and shut down all responses other than terror and despair.

Who could ever think of such a thing? And why? What did it all mean? Did she really have to—

Twilight collapsed to the floor, shuddering uncontrollably.

Do I… Do I have to…

Kill.

No. She couldn't think any further; it was literally beyond her comprehension. In the midst of her sobbing, she could feel the bile rising in her throat, and could do nothing to stop it. She began retching, the simple thought of such an action making her physically sick.

Kill.

Every time she thought she had started to recover, that word came back, rising to the surface of a dark sea of despair, and she had to desperately repress her instinctive urges to vomit and hide in fear.

Kill… An Element... Kill a friend...

She couldn't hold it back any longer. Striking out with a forehoof, she managed to knock the bin under her desk into reach. She desperately lifted her head above the rim, just before a series of shudders racked her body. With a sickening lurch, Twilight began to throw up.

If someone had suggested earlier that the written word could have induced such physical pain, Twilight would have laughed at them. Many times, she had been left emotionally affected by something she had read, but never to the point that it could cause a bodily reaction.

Yet, here she was now; her throat was burning, her limbs were numb, and her mind felt like it was being crushed in a vice. What she had read was so horrifying that her body just couldn't cope.

Kill.

Twilight felt another retch coming, and leaned back into the bin as she heaved.

She’d hoped that it would get easier to handle, by going over the past readings and researching the field. She’d always relied on finding out more about what she didn’t know, in order to fight the fear of the unknown.

Not this time. It just got worse.

Everything she had seen, every source written by all the names she’d come to rely on… Every academic agreed: prophecy was a part of life in Equestria. She’d seen one particular extract refer to it as “akin to meteor showers: a rare and wondrous phenomena, but just as predictable, and just as natural”.

Twilight struggled to remember who had said that. She knew she’d seen it in one of the reference books, but the moment she tried to concentrate it all hit her again, and she had to thrust her head back into that foul-smelling bin.

Magic will kill…

She tried to think of something. Anything. Every possible thought she could latch on to, in the hope it would give her a way out.

Every time she tried, it came back to the same words.

Magic will kill a wielder of the Elements.

Twilight had found other prophecies within the book; some of them mentioned her, citing things she didn’t yet know about. One, for example, spoke of ‘the preparation of twilight’; it was constructed in riddles she didn’t quite understand. She hadn’t looked at it too closely, though; this, she was sure, was a prophecy from a future further away. Given what she had discovered from this one, though…

Kill…

…Twilight repressed the urge to vomit further. After… that, she wasn’t exactly eager to investigate any other prophecies about her own future.

Twilight forced herself to breathe deeply. She cleared her mind as best she could, and simply sat, trying to force herself to calm down.

After what seemed like mere seconds, though, there was a loud knocking on her bedroom door. “Twilight?” came a concerned voice. “Are you alright in there?”

Twilight’s eyes flew open again. Spike was coming to check on her! She couldn’t let him know!

Quickly, she enveloped the copy of Predictions and Prophecies in her magic, flinging it under her bed.

“I’m fine!” She called back. “I was just—”

Kill.

Twilight swallowed, before coughing to clear her throat a little. “…Just checking on the books you put in here!”

The doorknob began to turn. Panicking, Twilight threw open the window with her magic and levitated the bin out of it, hurling it out onto the grass below.

Spike walked into the room, a small frown on his face. “You sure?” he asked sceptically. “You were making some really weird noises.”

“I was…” she rasped, before forcing herself to clear her throat again, studiously ignoring the aftertaste of sick. “…Just doing some throat exercises!” She explained, glancing around anxiously. “I think I might be losing my voice or… something. Just thought I’d practise some techniques Pinkie showed me!” She gave Spike the most convincing grin that she could. Given the situation, though, it wasn’t very effective.

“Uhuh,” Spike grunted noncommittally, sniffing the air. “Phew, it stinks in here!” he groaned. “What have you been doing?!”

Twilight said nothing. She sank to her haunches, practically collapsing onto her bed, staring off into space.

“Ugh, we’d better open a wind—oh. You already have.” Spike stared at the portal for a moment before turning back around to glare at the piles of discarded books around the desk. “Well, make sure you put these all back,” he ordered. “I didn’t put them all in order just so you could mess them up!”

“Yeah, sure, will do,” Twilight muttered absently, looking into the distance with a troubled gaze. After a moment, she winced, as if in pain, before turning to look at Spike again. “Say, has Celestia replied yet?” She asked.

Spike had returned from his lunch break a few hours ago to discover Twilight frantically collecting books for some kind of new research project. The second he’d walked in, she’d had him send a sealed scroll to the Princess, marked as being of upmost urgency. The fact that she hadn’t even told him what it was had worried him a little, but he was confident that she would tell him if it were something he needed to worry about, so he had shrugged it off as being some kind of secret new pet project the librarian was working on. That would explain the behaviour, too; once Twilight got an idea, she stuck to it until it was completed to her incredibly high standards, even if that meant doing the research work of six ponies at once.

“For the twelfth time this hour, no,” Spike replied, irritated. “Just be patient! If it’s so urgent then I’m sure she’ll get back to you soon.”

Twilight wasn’t so confident. Her entire life was laid bare in that book, and Celestia knew nothing of it? She found that hard to believe. Either the Princess really was ignorant… Or she was deliberately hiding something from Twilight.

Did she know about this prophecy? Had she been trying to protect her student from the fate that awaited her?

Or… Had she been ensuring it?

Kill.

Twilight winced again. It was less painful now, it seemed; the very idea still sickened her to the bone, but at least she was capable of coherent thought again. It didn’t take her long to decide that this couldn’t possibly wait. She needed answers, and she needed them fast.

The ‘Crystal’s return’ was the herald, after all. It had been around a month since she and her friends had journeyed to the Crystal Empire, restoring the Crystal Heart—and the Empire itself—to all its former glory. This meant that the prophecy in question could be fulfilled any day now.

Twilight wasn’t a mare to give up easily. She certainly wasn’t going to take this lying down. She’d gone so very far in order to protect her friends before; she was willing to do whatever it took to protect them now—even from herself.

Kill.

Not on her watch, she wouldn’t.

“Okay, Spike!” Twilight barked determinedly, springing to her hooves and startling her assistant. “I need you to bring me Pre-packed Emergency Travel Saddlebags numbers four and five, pronto!”

Spike looked confused. “Why? Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I am,” she replied, giving him a look that conveyed equal parts terror and resolve—and raised his worries for Twilight to a new level. “I’m going to Canterlot.”

With that, the room became a flurry of motion. In the time it took Spike to pull the relevant bags from the wardrobe, Twilight had four textbooks, a hairbrush and—of course—a checklist rotating around her. She was staring at each item intently. Spike knew that stare all too well; it was the kind of look that led to a town of lovestruck ponies chasing after a doll. Topped off with her thoroughly odd behaviour ever since he’d gotten back, and the fact that, now that he was really paying attention, he thought that she did look a little peaky… This was almost certainly a recipe for disaster.

Making a mental note to send Celestia another letter—this time marked “ULTRA SUPER CITY-THREATENINGLY URGENT”—Spike set the saddlebags down on Twilight’s bed and looked at her, wondering what had prompted this change of heart. “So… I guess you changed your mind about going along with the girls, huh?” he asked.

“Uhuh,” came the distracted reply, as Twilight apparently weighed up two of the textbooks.

“So, ah… What are you going to do about the library?”

Twilight’s left eye twitched, and she turned to stare at Spike. “The library?” she asked. “Oh, that’s right. Can’t leave the library, no time left for trips away…” She trailed off, apparently considering the issue for the first time. This set off another warning light in Spike’s mind; this library was precious to her, more so than any regular home would be. There was no way she’d be so keen to drop it, and without any forethought, unless something really serious was happening.

Spike double-ticked that mental reminder to contact the Princess.

Before he could voice his concerns, however, Twilight’s eyes lit up. “I know! I’ll get somepony else to cover for me! I’m sure they won’t mind doing me a favour!”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked. “You know a pony that you can go to at a moment’s notice? One who knows you well enough, and is actually interested enough in books, for them to look after a whole library for you?”

***

“…and so that’s why I figured that, since we know each other well and share a passion for knowledge and learning, you’d be perfect to look after the library for me!” Twilight finished, panting slightly after concluding her monologue. She stared at Cheerilee hopefully. “So, could you?”

Cheerilee gave her a tired, slightly bemused look. Twilight felt it was probably a look that a lot of her students found themselves on the receiving end of. “Y’know, you could have just said, ‘I need someone to cover for me,’” she said dryly.

Twilight bounced on her hooves slightly, eager to hurry things up. “Yeah, I guess, but I thought you should have the full story. So, could you?” she repeated.

Cheerilee sighed. When Twilight had turned up on her doorstep, she’d hoped that it would be to organise something fun; instead, she felt like she was been forcibly drafted into doing more work. “Well, you’re lucky it’s at least half term,” she commented. “I was planning to have some quiet evenings to myself, but I guess I can look after that old place for you.” She giggled a little. “Actually, I’d quite like to spend some more time there. Why, I remember, back when I was researching my—”

“Okay, great!” Twilight interrupted, desperate to get moving. “So, just keep it open until five every night, and make sure ponies sign out the books using their full names.” She glanced over one shoulder, back towards Ponyville’s centre. “Spike knows you’ll be there, but he can take care of himself, and he’ll probably do the cleaning too, so there’s no need to worry about that.”

Twilight paused for a second, trying to think of anything more, before turning around. “Well, I’ve got to get moving! Don’t want to miss the girls’ train. I owe you one!”

With that, and before Cheerilee could raise any objections, Twilight began to sprint away. She didn’t get far, though, sliding to a stop at the end of Cheerilee’s garden as a thought occurred.

“Oh, one more thing!” she called back over her shoulder. “If an owl breaks in during the night, don’t worry about it—he works there!” With that, she hurtled down the street, leaving a particularly perplexed pony in her wake.

“…Wait,” Cheerilee frowned, puzzled. “Does she expect me to… sleep there?”

***

Twilight thanked her lucky stars that Cheerilee hadn’t had any plans already. She’d really have to do something nice for the schoolmare; willing to spend a whole week—her own week off, no less—covering somepony else’s job, at the drop of a hat… Yes, she’d have to find some way of repaying her.

Assuming she could find a way out of this horrible mess.

Kill.

Twilight clenched her eyes and repressed a shudder as she hurtled into the train station. She reopened them just in time to take in a world of white fur before she slammed straight into it at bone-crushing speed.

The world slowly came back into focus. Groaning in pain, Twilight slowly rolled herself off her back and onto her hooves, wincing slightly. She shook her head a little to clear her vision, and took in the sprawled shape that she’d sent flying.

“Oh my gosh, Rarity! I’m so sorry!”

Rarity moaned as Fluttershy righted her. “Oh, the pain!” she cried. “It’s simply unbearable! Why, what kind of brute could have…” she looked up, intending to fix her assaulter with a fiery glare, before realisation set in. “Oh… Twilight? What are you doing here, dear?”

Twilight took a look around. She had indeed made it in time; the train was still at the station, and her friends were yet to board. They were instead gathered around her, each one fixing her with a perplexed look.

All except Rainbow Dash. She actually looked mildly impressed, and was apparently trying to stifle her laughter.

“Wow, Twi! You totally KO’d Rare!” She gave Twilight an encouraging pat on the back. “You got some real force there, girl!”

Applejack pushed Rainbow away, giving her a disapproving frown, before glancing back at Twilight. “Y’all here to send us off?” she asked.

“Actually… I’m coming with you,” Twilight replied, nodding back at her saddlebags.

For a moment, everypony took this in. Then Fluttershy, of all ponies, spoke up.

“But, uh… didn’t you say earlier that you couldn’t come?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie agreed. “I used the Patented Pinkie Pie Puppy Pout to try and get you to come, and even that didn’t work! What gives?”

Twilight felt an inexplicable frustration building. “Why? What does it matter why?” she snapped. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Maybe I just decided that my friends are more important to me than some stupid books!”

Rainbow jokingly gave a scandalised gasp. “More important… than books?” she cried. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Twilight?”

“Why is this so hard to believe?!” Twilight huffed. “Maybe I find my relationship with the ponies closest to me more important than some stupid words on a stupid page! Maybe I don’t have to believe everything I read! Maybe I can act against it, and I can be with the ones I love! What’s so wrong about that, huh?” Twilight panted, glaring around.

Her friends slowly backed away from the raging mare, equal parts confused, worried, and scared—apart from Fluttershy, who was certainly more scared than anything else, and seemed to be trying to hide herself behind Applejack.

“Sugarcube, we’re just pleased as punch to see ya,” the farmer said in a calming tone, giving Twilight a wary stare. “We’re just… Surprised, that’s all. T’ain’t like you to change yer schedule willy-nilly,” she explained.

“Honestly, AJ. It’s just a schedule,” Twilight said, feeling the fire inside of her beginning to cool. “It’s not like it’s carved in stone or anything. So, shall we start boarding?” Without any reply, Twilight headed towards the train.

The five mares she left behind stared at each other, a dread air hanging between them.

“…‘Just’ a schedule?” Rainbow Dash repeated sceptically. “More important than books?”

“She seemed… Uhm… Angry,” Fluttershy whispered, slowly emerging from behind Applejack.

“Angry?” Rarity snorted. “She was practically ablaze! What on earth has gotten into her?”

Applejack decided to take a diplomatic approach. “Don’t you worry none, girls,” she reassured the group. “Ah’m sure it’s nothing all that important. Probably some kinda problem with havin’ to reschedule.” She chuckled. “Ah’m just happy to have her comin’ with us.”

The group murmured their assent, turning as one to board the train as the conductor’s whistle blew. Rainbow, however, hung back, remaining sceptical. “I dunno,” She muttered to herself. “I think there’s something going on here. There’s no way Twilight would spend all that time trying to get us off her back, just to turn around and come with us anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at the train. “There’s something up with her… And I’m gonna find out what.”