The Realistic Applications of the Magic of Friendship

Your body contorts in your sleep, worriedly moving the covers around you, enshrouding you in a misty veil of fabric; that strange state, between awareness of being awake, but still submerged in the distant, fake reality of a nightmare. “Twilight... don’t...” The soft mumble shatters the barrier imposing itself between the two worlds, with the purple unicorn just on the other side of the cart, but too absorbed in her reading to notice your disturbance. In a single, swift roll of your body, your mind severs itself from the realm of the ethereal, eyes snapping open with a gasp; instinctively, they dart around your surroundings, taking in everything they can, before they settle on the lavender unicorn, snout still deep in her book. She was there! A sigh of, blissful, relief, relinquishes itself from your lungs, and you allow your sweat covered body to relax, while a strange, rushing sensation...

Thump! Your body seemed to have been perched on the ledge of the bed, upholding itself through effort alone, which you stupidly cut in a hasty motion, even if it only served to reassure you. Twilight jumped slightly at the odd sound, slicing itself through the rhythmic wheels of the train; her gaze lowered to you, a slight look of concern on her face. “Are you okay? What happened?” With a tug on the constricting blankets, slowly unravelling them from your grounded form, you just murmur a quick, breathless reply.

“Nightmare. I’ll be fine.” After untangling the covers, it was easy enough to stand, although you were wearing the cloths around your barrel. Hoisting yourself back onto the bed, you just curl up, letting out another sigh; despite how real your dream felt, it was wrong, for now, at least. She was still there, and even if you weren’t looking at her, you could hear every time she’d flip a page; perhaps she was concerned, but she left you to your own affairs. Some demons were best left undisturbed, and some thoughts best left locked away, tucked into coffers with the key destroyed, and the lock itself damaged beyond repair. Maybe she knew that such thoughts were best kept to yourself, and so she chose not to pry any further into your affairs than she needed to for her research; that was perfectly fine by you, whether it be by necessity or concern.

Time passes slowly, marked only by the frequent flips of pages, and the steady clacking of the train. Your time is spent thinking of nothing, merely taking relief in the fact that Twilight was behind you, as evident by the sounds she produced; listening carefully, you could even hear the odd breath, further calming you down and assisting in passing the time. Eventually, the familiar sounds of the rails begins to slow, becoming inconsistent; shortly afterwards, the train slows to a halt, the bustling passengers trotting out of their various carriages. Twilight didn’t move, and so neither did you; perhaps she thought you had once again fallen asleep, and so you turn over, taking care not to fall once again, and lay your eyes upon her.

She simply continued to read, her horn lighting up every so often to change pages or readjust the book, Scientific Evidence Gathering: Avoiding Inconsistencies and Flawed Data; something beyond your comprehension, that was for certain. You could barely even read the title, but the book itself was rather large; a brick, of the literary variety, that you had no hopes of understanding, but you’re certain Twilight could easily wrap her mind around it. It was probably in preparation for your involvement, in any case.

The minutes eked on, dragging themselves onward; Twilight had made no attempt to leave, but somehow, you felt like the silence outside of the room indicated that the other passengers had, and the lack of noise also meant that no ponies were boarding. Carefully, you got out of the bed, much more gracefully than before, and took the step or two over to her, a hoof gently prodding her while you spoke. “Twilight?” She jumped slightly, ripping herself from her book in a fluid motion; she took a few seconds to take into account the fact that the train had stopped, before she began to grab her bags and books hurriedly.

“I’m sorry, the train’s been stopped for a while now, hasn’t it?” You nod, moving out of her way to accord whatever amount of space she needed in the small traveling car; her saddlebags were swiftly hooked onto her sides, and she began to trot outside, towards the station platform. “I just get so absorbed in my reading... And now we’re off schedule.” She glanced around the next part of the train’s interior while moving towards the door; you followed suit, taking a short look at a haphazardly placed clock; it was still rather early, and the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. You sigh softly; if she had a schedule, you should’ve spoken up sooner. No matter what, you messed up.

As you stepped off the train and onto the platform, Twilight began to speak again. “So, this might seem a little sudden, and maybe just a bit rude,” You both stepped off the elevated platform, as she thought for a second, carefully choosing her words. “But I can’t talk to you anymore; at least, not until we complete some preliminary experiments. I want to make sure I get the most accurate results possible, and I might have already flawed the preliminary results a little.” She sighed softly, probably a little discouraged, as she headed towards her home, no doubt, and you gave her a short, curt answer.

“I understand.” It was simple, even if it was slightly untrue; you didn’t comprehend why she needed to stop talking with you, but if she said so, and if it would help her, you’d do it. The streets themselves were relatively barren, only a few odd ponies who undoubtedly stared at you as you passed by, some whispering to another with idle gossip; after all, it wasn’t every day you saw somepony in shackles, especially this early in the morning. That must be why Twilight had wanted to be quick; if the bustling village had fully awoken, it would only have been worse, except you had mucked up her foresight by your inattention.

With that being said, the town itself seemed... quaint. It wasn’t like Canterlot; the houses were still made of stone and wood, but they looked much more appealing and less prim than the more favoured districts of Canterlot. It was soothing, in a way; maybe you simply hadn’t seen the run down areas of Ponyville, but this was nice. In the distance, you could see a large tree with a... telescope? It stood out awkwardly compared to the houses, and it seems like you were headed there; she lived in a tree? That’s... odd, to say the least, but you lived in an abandoned house; you’d have gladly given that up for such a residence, no matter how weird it was.

She hadn’t actually gone into detail about her living arrangements when she had spoke to you about Ponyville; she simply said that, fortunately for her, it was already equipped with many of the tools she needed for her studies. That, and her assistant was a baby dragon; probably another subject for her studies, in some way; even then, he’d be absent for a day or two, as he cleaned out both of their personal belongings from her previous library. Otherwise, you didn’t know much about Ponyville; she had talked quite a bit about the friends she had made, but you didn’t really know what they looked like, or how they spoke. Just who they were.

During your thoughts, Twilight had, indeed, directed herself towards that odd tree; she really did live there... Well, she must enjoy it then. If she enjoys it, you’re sure you can tolerate it; after all, it won’t leak in the rain, and she must have a wonderful view, given how high it extends. It really was quite large as well; even if the exterior was relatively lacking, in terms of fancy aesthetics, you’re certain the interior is garnished in a prim manner that would perhaps even compete with Celestia’s sumptuous palace. It fills you with a feeling of unease in your gut, that you’d be forced to stay in a place that reminds you of what you hate; at the very least, Twilight would be there, a shining ray of sunlight on an otherwise dreary day.

She trots farther ahead of you for a moment, opening the door; you smile slightly, and she returns your gesture with the same amount of gusto. Stepping through the portal into Twilight’s realm, her home, your anticipations are proven false; the walls are lined with bookcases, each one filled to the brim with slightly dusty books. There’s a table in the room as well, supporting two open books and a few errant pages; a report or study of some sort, you’re sure, and even if incomprehensible to you, you’re curious about what she studies. A set of stairs travels upwards, probably to some sort of observation deck for the telescope, and a few doors in the gaps between bookcases; finally, a fireplace is placed opposite of you, but it’s clearly been dormant for some time, as it was devoid of both wood, while being relatively clean of soot. It certainly wasn’t even close to what you expected...

While you take a few more steps forward, your hooves resounding in the large space, Twilight closes the door after she enters, setting her saddlebags next to the door. She steps in front of you, beckoning you to follow her as the carefully trots up the stairs. You obey, not talking; mucking up her research would be bad, especially when she’s forced to suppress her curiosity, stalling her experiments until she can get an accurate read on you. Once you reach the top of the stairs, Twilight opens the single door, stepping through first this time; you can tell she’s excited about this, from the way her hooves spring slightly with each step. She must be struggling to contain her glee; although she does motion you into the room relatively calmly.

Still without words, she motions you to wait there with a hoof, and you nod; taking the opportunity to look around the room, you notice it isn’t as regal as you expected. Many more bookcases, most filled to the brim with books, but a few empty ones, are pinned against the walls; a small sort of basket, complete with a miniature blanket and pillow occupy one of the few spaces devoid of bookcases. Another one of the less literary spaces holds a larger bed, clearly Twilight’s, although it looks like it was yet to be slept in; finally, two ground bound window-like doors were present, leading to a small veranda. Other than the outer findings of the room, a desk was present, with a few pages and books open in a very organized manner; related to whatever other studies she was doing, you were sure.

During your observations, she had apparently found what she was looking for and had suspended it in her magical aura; a small contraption, rectangular in shape, with a few meter occupying the majority of the screen, along with two buttons, one red and the other green. Attached to the side of the box was a small cable, which trailed a fair ways to a small, cone shaped fabric; despite the magical glow around it, it seemed to emanate a faint light without Twilight’s magic. For the first time since your departure from the station, she broke her silence for a few moments to explain the experiment. “This is a magical capacity measurement device; simply put, I’m going to measure what kind of magical energy you have at your disposal, even if you can’t currently call upon any of it yourself. You might feel a little tingling from your horn, since this tissue has a few select enchantments on it to allow it to draw some raw magic from you, but it’s not painful or damaging.” She smiled reassuringly, slowly beginning to move the cone towards your head.

Well, that explanation made sense; lowering your head, you allow her to place the cone over your horn, making sure it fights tightly around it, before she presses the green button on the device and it hums to life. You wait a few seconds, no sensations gracing your horn, and your ears twitching slightly; nothing seems to happen for a few minutes, and perhaps that’s how slow this was supposed to go. A single look at Twilight’s confused expression, however, tells you that this isn’t going according to plan; her hoof taps the glass coating the meter once, before she chimes in over the sound of the gizmo running. “This... doesn’t make any sense. It’s literally not picking up any sort of capabilities, dormant or active; even with those shackles restricting your use of magic and your latent inability to cast, you should have some sort of basic magical reserve. Maybe it’s broken?”

Without giving you the chance to respond, she swiftly pulls the smooth fabric off your horn, attaching it to her own; within a second, the meter of the device begins to rise, pushing itself to the edge in a timely manner and pressing the very measurements of the device to the built-in limits. Perplexed, Twilight turns off the device, floating it back to where she originally took it. “Well, that was... interesting. Confusing, but interesting.” She makes her way over to the desk, a quill floating in her lavender hue, and begins writing down a few notes. “I’m sorry, but I really need to record these findings and start working up some preliminary theories; you can look around the library. Your room is on the ground floor, parallel to the kitchen.” She looks up from her desk for a minute, waiting for your reply while her horn continues to glow, forcing the quill to write.

“Alright. I’ll be fine.” Your reply was quick, and you simply turn around, casting a wayward glance towards Twilight, who was already floating over several books, looking up various references and writing down her findings or theories. Quietly, you close the door and trot down into the main section of the library, making your way to the open book on the desk, rather than your current room; Twilight wouldn’t mind you taking a look at her work, would she? After all, you probably couldn’t understand it enough to copy it. Your eyes pour over the book, reading too many complicated words you can’t even fathom the meaning off, and then move over to the other one, this one... blank? That doesn’t make sense...

Turning the pages of the book, one seems to be completely filled, while the other was devoid of any sort of writing; a lone page on the desk, however, catches your eye. You look over it, noticing a sort of checklist; the first thing she needed to do was “Re-copy” a book... and the list was rather long. She had all this to do, and it didn’t even include anything involving you or the experiments you were to take part in on the list! That was certainly a lot of work for her; she wouldn’t object to you helping her out, would she? It was just writing, after all, and she had scrawled most of the words so quickly they looked almost illegible on her list; Celestia was probably working her to the bone, and then some. Carefully, you close the books and place a pen on top of one, just barely gripping all three objects in your maw and trotting off to where Twilight had mentioned your living quarters would be; the least you could do for her is take a bit of the work she had and do it for her. Even if you’d do it with but a fraction of the skill, she had so much to do; later, when she had less, she could fix your errors, and at least until then she’d have less.

Passing through the door to your room and closing it behind you, your decision to help her only had more validity; your domain was, by your standards, the best you had ever lived in. A bed, just next to a nightstand, was the piece that caught your eye the most; it had two thick, likely warm sheets and a soft, downy pillow on top. You set your cargo down on the nightstand next to the bed, taking care not to knock over the single candle on it; afterwards, you quickly test out the bed, ripping away the neatly placed covers and wrapping them around yourself in a warm cocoon. A deep whiff of them makes it apparent that they were recently washed, a very unusual bombardment to your senses, but a very welcome one; you take a few seconds to relax, taking in the rest of the room’s furniture.

It seems like, at one point, this room may have been used as a personal study room, of sorts; an empty writing desk, much to your delight, remains, partially shoved in a corner of the room, while a single miniature bookshelf, void of books, is the only other piece in the room. That’s of no bother to you, since you had the essentially: a warm bed, and a way to help Twilight. You wrap one such blanket around your neck, forming a sort of warm cape, and then close the door; after all, you didn’t want Twilight to know about this until it was done. She’d hopefully be pleasantly surprised. Making three trips to the worn out writing desk, one for each book, and one for the pen, you open up the written book to the first page, and open up the other to the first blank one.

Gripping a pen without magic was a little awkward, but once you figured out how to, you’d never forget it; your teeth closed around the implement, the pointed end beginning to touch the paper. The trick was that instead of using your lips or shifting your head around, you needed to use your tongue; with swift, precise nudges of the end, you could easily write coherently, rather than write scribbles, like most ponies who had no magic did. Of course, it took practice, but it was second nature to you; the pages on the previously barren book began to blossom, words, some within, some out of, your comprehension, but the pages begin to fill with your writing. This continues for some time, your hoof turning the pages every so often; generally those of the book you’re copying, rather than the one you’re writing.

Eventually, you hear the old stairs creaking, and you rush to hide both books; it was better to be safe than sorry. Frantically, you stuff both of them under the bed frame, making sure they’re out of view unless she were to specifically take a look under your bed; satisfied with such a hiding spot, you climb up onto the bed, place your head against the pillow and stare upwards at the ceiling. She may not even come into the room, but if she did, the least you could do is try not to look suspicious; you weren’t going to lie to her, and you just hoped she wouldn’t ask where the books had gone, but she was a smart, perceptive mare. Chances are, she’d notice as soon as she stepped onto the ground floor.

Your stomach groans audibly as you roll over onto your side, facing away from the door; it was relatively quiet inside, and so Twilight was sure to have heard. Sure enough, her hooves become inaudible to your ears for a moment; they resume a second later, becoming slightly louder as she approaches your closed door. A soft, almost timid knocking sound is heard against the door, while her voice pierces through it in a fashion that grabs your attention through your hunger. “I’m going to make dinner; would you care to join me?” Your eyes close for a second while you roll over, hoofs thumping against the floor as they support you; the door brushes open slowly, Twilight becoming visible behind it, just as lovely as ever, although she looked a little perplexed. She looks at you for an answer, and not wanting to vocalize anything, you just nod; she returns the acknowledgement with a smile, turning around to head to the kitchen. “You can wait in the kitchen while I prepare it, if you like.”

Verbally silent, you follow her into the kitchen; your eyes worriedly glance at the table, clearly devoid of two books. She had to have noticed, or was she simply ignoring it for now? Or was she so enraptured in her current project with you that she had failed to notice the disappearance? In any case, you had to watch your words carefully; Twilight would no doubt take note if you said something that implied you had stolen her books, and if she had noticed, she would definitely be suspicious of you.

Thinking about your concerns took long enough for you to enter the kitchen, and once snapping out of your thoughts, you notice Twilight as already beginning to prepare food for both of you; the kitchen itself looked average, from what you’d assume: a somewhat large table stood in the middle, easily seating six ponies, while various cupboards are strewn up below the counter, and finally, a fridge and oven sit in perpendicular corners, powered by enchanted gems, you were sure. It just seemed so plain and unrefined, just like the rest of her house; she truly must have just gotten here herself, otherwise, being Celestia’s personal student, at the very least her room would be lacquered with fine, exuberant decorations. Given how barren each room seemed, in comparison the palace, she couldn’t have been here for any period of time; Twilight, meanwhile, was simply tossing together various flowers and veggies into a bowl, something simple for her, you’re sure, so you ask her the question that’s been plaguing you since you arrived. “Twilight,” Her head turns for a moment, her horn glowing while she continued to prepare the food, “I don’t understand why everything here is so... old. It doesn’t look fancy, like the palace. I mean, you’re studying under the princess, but this place doesn’t look like you are at all.”

Twilight raises an eyebrow, somehow confused by your simple question. “Just because Princess Celestia took me under her wings as an apprentice doesn’t mean I have to, or enjoy, living in a palace.” She grabs two wooden spoons with her magic, mixing and tossing the salad. “I’ve always enjoyed the more calm aspects of a library; in Canterlot, I used to stay at the library more often than the palace, unless Princess Celestia needed me, or I needed her guidance, and even if it was very well decorated, I didn’t particularly care about that. The books are what made me enjoy it more than the palace; I seek knowledge, not aesthetics.” You lower your head slightly, ashamed; why did you think she would be, even in the smallest possible way, so vain? You were stupid, like always... almost silently, you give a meek apology, although you’re sure she heard it.

For a split second, her concentration on the meal wavers, and then resumes just as quickly; she was probably going to respond, perhaps take pity on you for being so idiotic or try and make you think it wasn’t wrong of you to do, but she doesn’t. She was probably occupied with other things; after all, that large list outside was rather daunting, even for her, but you’re sure a certain royal somepony who enforced it didn’t care.

Twilight finally split the salad into two bowls, setting each down at one extremity of the table; taking the invitation, you sat down at one end, the one closest to you, and she took the other. At the sight of food, despite your mind’s more preoccupying concerns, your body’s urges take precedence, and your muzzle dives into the bowl, taking small, rapid bites of the various vegetables. Twilight didn’t seem surprised, since, after all, you couldn’t use utensils; she, on the other hoof, held such tools in her magical grasp, and took much more civilized bites. For perhaps a minute, the only sound that filled the kitchen was the occasional crunch from a harder bit of veggie or the scrapping sound of Twilight’s fork against her bowl. That is, until Twilight broke the silence between her bouts of consumption. “So, I’d like to gather some historical aspects about your life to more accurately pinpoint a probably theory, in regard to your lack of magical skills.” Your face rises above the bowl for a second, just long enough for you to agree, a few smaller pieces of food falling from your muzzle and back into the bowl, before you resume eating.

“Excellent!” She smiled giddily, clearly eager to begin; you didn’t see how it was that important, but if she thought it was, then it had to be. “To begin, I’ll have to go through a few mundane questions, even if I’m fairly certain I know the answers; simply to make sure I’m correct. You’re originally from, and until recently lived in, Canterlot?” As much as you hated how right she was, on that subject, she was. “Unfortunately... yeah.” She can sense the disappointment in your voice, but it does little to brim her enthusiasm as she continues. “Okay, and you did attend some form of magic training during your colthood years, correct?” Once again, she was right, even if it may have been something most ponies would have glossed over. “Yes... the same one as you.” You expected her to be somewhat surprised, but she seems to have, at the very least, anticipated that possibility in your reply, and she was unfazed by it.

She had probably assumed that from your earlier ramblings; after all, Canterlot was a rather large city, and one of the few spots you’d be guaranteed to find her would be at her magic kindergarten. So it wouldn’t come as a surprise to her, and her lack of surprise would have been easy to see, if you had enough of a brain to think a little more. At least she didn’t lack the foresight you did; after all, she had said she was fairly sure of your answers beforehoof. “I suppose I don’t need to ask if your trainer was certified, then.” She shoved some salad into her mouth, taking a small respite from the few questions she had asked, but before long she was back at it. “I’m also going to need to delve into your personal past a little, so I can get an accurate portrait of potential reasons for your current situation. I’m sorry if it hurts, but it needs to be done.”

You flinch a little; the past was a sensitive subject for you, but you’d face parts of it if Twilight asked it. “I take it you had very few colthood friends?” Her voice was reluctant, but she pressed on. “I don’t like assuming the worst, but it’s just that given what you’ve said before... it seems like the most probable possibility.” You stare down into your, now empty, bowl, the contents having been devoured throughout, and before, your questioning; it takes a while for you to gather your courage, the question itself causing various events to flash before your eyes. The schoolyard colts hitting you, taking the few meagre bits you had brought for food, the other fillies in your class passing notes and laughing snidely at you; all except Twilight, of course... “None.” Looking up from your bowl, Twilight still lacked any sort of surprise, but this time, her face was sympathetic.

“I feel bad about being right on that one.” She eked out a slight, awkward chuckle, perhaps uncertain about how to react; her eyes dipped into her own food while she ate, your answers apparently giving her enough to mull over. You rub your shoulder with a hoof awkwardly, your eyes shifting around the room; you felt uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Soon enough, however, Twilight would remedy that problem. “I think that’s enough questions for now; it’s more than enough to confirm my initial theory.” She polished off her salad with one last bite, taking a few moments to chew and swallow it before she went on. “It’ll be impossible to say that, for certain, my theory is correct; however, it’s something to go on for now.” Her horn glows, enveloping both of the bowls in her aura and placing them in the nearby sink. “Unfortunately, you’ll be bound to the library for a few days; you’ll be residing here, of course, but I need a little while before I can arrange some outings for you.” Her hooves tapped against the ground in tandem while she moved out of the kitchen, probably returning to her studies and books, the largest break the could allow herself already passed due to her large volume of work.

“Although, I do want to give you a task, starting tomorrow.” Your ears perk up as she stops just outside the kitchen: she had your full attention. If she needed help with anything, you had to give it to her; even if you were already helping her, without her knowing it yet, she had so much work to do, and you were barely helping her in the first place. “It’s rather unorthodox, but I believe it will be very helpful to me; I’d like you to keep a journal of your thoughts about anything. Your past, me, your nightmares...” She trails off for a second, formulating the rest of her phrase carefully. “I’d be reading it every day or two, so I’d need to rely on you being completely honest with me, but I believe it will be good for you in the long run; I just won’t force you to do it, and I’d understand if you don’t want to record certain thoughts or events.”

It would be hard to stay honest about all your thoughts, but you could be vague, or just choose words carefully; you weren’t very skilled in language, so she’d understand if you accidentally implied something. While it wouldn’t make you feel good, you’d do it; anything to help her. You had hoped that it would be some sort of work that would diminish her load, but unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for this. “I’ll do it. I don’t know how to write well... but I will.” It’s best you told her right away; that way no suspicions would be drawn, hopefully, and you still weren’t lying. She kept trotting, but you heard her reply. “That’s great; thank you. I was a little worried that you’d think I was trying to pry, but I’m very glad that you understand that this will help me so much in my studies; I’m aware that you aren’t the most instructed, so if I need clarification, I’ll be sure to ask you.” You decided to exit the kitchen as well, since there was nothing left here for you; she probably didn’t want you to follow her, but you could always go back to your assigned room. While a fair bit of the book you were helping Twilight with was copied, a majority of it remained blank, and the sooner you finished that, the sooner you could stop watching your tongue and tell Twilight everything upfront. Until then, you’d just be even more careful than usual, and that was saying something.

Once you exited the kitchen, you saw Twilight had taken a glance at the table you had previously pilfered her books from; given her reaction, a hoof rubbing against her head softly and a few words of confusion, she clearly noticed her work missing. You simply slink by, as best as you could when chained, taking great care to not look suspicious; if she wanted to accuse you, she wasn’t vocalizing herself, but still, you couldn’t help but feel she knew you had done it. She didn’t have any proof, yet, so you were certain she wouldn’t make a hasty assumption; she had circumstantial evidence, of course, but she based herself in the realm of facts. You’d have to try and find a more secure place to hide your stash, at least until you could complete the book; under your mattress would probably be a more secure location, given how you could probably make sure they made no bumps, and were thus completely concealed from view. There weren’t many other options, and that was the best you could come up with; passing through the entrance to your room, you close the door lightly, not wanting to break Twilight’s train of thought if you could help it.

The rest of the day was spent just waiting, mainly lying on your bed; with Twilight clearly suspicious, you’d wait until nightfall to continue your task. Since you’d spend most of the day resting, conserving the energy you had, you had very little doubt in your ability to stay awake longer than your hostess; particularly when she did make a few more meals, and invited you to each of them. She spoke little, in the same sort of rush she was before; one that went unspoken, but was evident by how quickly she was back to her tasks, and how relentlessly she tackled them. You ate much slower, often taking twice the time she did; partially, it was to savor food that was much more elegant than you were used to, but it also served as a small distraction from the boredom of waiting. In the next few days, with proper meetings and introductions with Twilight’s friends being organized, perhaps that idle feeling would fade, but for now, you would be forced to tolerate it.

As night fell, you could still hear Twilight work from outside your room; the occasional shimmer of a book being levitated or the thump of her hooves as she trotted around, mixed with the more consistent sound of pages turning and her writing, along with a yawn or two, from time to time. Biding your time for a few more minutes, you heard a final yawn as the trotted up to her room, with her day finally over; your work, however, was truly beginning now. Very silently, you opened the door to your room, which thankfully didn’t creak in the slightest; acting quickly and trying to minimize the jangling of your infernal chains, you grab the candle on your nightstand and venture out into the library. Thankfully, a lit candle was on the table, either due to Twilight’s inattention in the face of her large workload, or due to how she would be back down shortly; it didn’t matter, you just needed to procure your own illumination and be on your way. Carefully, you dip the wick into the flame, igniting it and gracing the main room with even more light; just in case Twilight would plan to come back down, you neglect blowing out the other candle, but make note that if she did not within a few minutes, you would return to do so.

Moving back to your room, closing the door behind you once again, you set the candle on the writing desk, and then grab all of your other work tools underneath your bed; you were fully prepared, and you begin copying once again. This time, however, you went much slower; the light was not as present as before, and so you had more difficulty in properly identifying the words and letters on each page. You were being as accurate as possible, but you hoped no errors were made; at this rate, it would take much longer to fully complete the book, particularly when you had more tasks to perform and outings to attend, but it would be worth it. You were sure of that.

For the next few hours, if you could accurately estimate the time, you wrote away; pausing your task only to return to the library after the building was basking in the sound of silence, you gently blow out the lit candle Twilight had left ignited. Afterwards, nothing disturbed your writing; your worries were banished for the moment, as were your fears, and the interruptions were nonexistence. While you couldn’t accurately measure your progress, you were certain that you made some; as the night went on, and you began to tire, you decided to finish, for tonight. Even if you could tell Twilight you had trouble sleeping, which you did at times, you could avoid bending the truth if you slept a little; stashing both of the books, along with the quill, underneath your mattress, you blow out your only source of light, and hop into the disheveled sheets. Wrapping yourself in them once you again, and placing your head on the pillow, you peer out at the moon; it glowed, illuminating your room in a dim aura. While it was pretty, perhaps even beautiful, it couldn’t even begin to compare with your one other thought before you slept: Twilight. Closing your eyes with her imprinted in your memory, you begin to fall asleep peacefully, hoping that your previous, short nightmare would not repeat itself, and that the dream you have would be much more pleasant...

Your dream progressed wonderfully, if a little rapid; given how little time you had, that was needed. Twilight and you were walking through an unnamed park, perhaps in her small, nice town; you didn’t care, all that mattered was that she was with you. This time, she was dressed in a similar manner to you; the rich gown she once totted in this realm had vanished, and was replaced with her simple, natural beauty: she wore nothing. You close your eyes blissfully, for a moment, leaning into her and attempting to wrap a hoof around hers...

You stumble in her direction, not prepared for the lack of solid feeling; your eyes shock themselves open as you frantically turn around, looking for her. She was nowhere to be seen, as absent as her previous garments; your heart beats quickly, an uneasy feeling overcoming you, but it was unfortunately familiar. Your breath accelerates, while your unease is confirmed; the trees that grace the park begin to vanish, slowly turning black, as the ground just beneath your hooves follows suit, but you are somehow immune to the effects, once again. Your body shakes in fear; you were powerless. This may be your dream, but no matter how much you thought about bringing Twilight back or banishing the darkness that consumed this world, you couldn’t; soon enough, you were once again in a dark void, alone. This time, however, a voice rang out in the distant darkness. “Face your fears...”

You turn around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice, but as it repeats itself, the location changes. “Get out!” You shout, turning around in the direction of sound each time it repeats itself. “This is my dream! You’re not supposed to be here, get out!” You bellow the last two words, frustrated; somepony was messing around with you. You didn’t know who, you didn’t know how, and you certainly didn’t know why, but you’d be damned if you were going to sit down and take such a being disrespecting your only sanctuary. The voice seemed to weaken, either willingly after hearing your outburst, or unwillingly from your willpower; eventually, you were left in silence once more, but even with the ethereal noise banished, your dream did not return to normal.

It was a prison. Being alone, in the dank, desolate darkness, left with nothing but time, and you used it to think; of Twilight, of the library, of anything else but the formless void around you. It scared you, the darkness, that is, when you were alone; it eclipsed all else, reminding you of your fears, of memories you want to keep buried and of unpleasant feelings. The morning would come soon enough, with how late you had went to bed and how early you’re sure you’d awake, either from the rays of the sun or the intervention of Twilight, but it couldn’t come fast enough. Until then, all you could do is keep your mind occupied, and try to relax as much as possible; you’d need your rest, and although you’re sure your sleep would be lacking, you’d make the most of it. It was more than you were used to, at least, and so you just resigned yourself to the fate of your dream for the rest of the duration.