//------------------------------// // The Fifth Day: The Sweet Smell of Science... and Crepes // Story: You Do (Not) Belong // by 2dextreem //------------------------------// You Do (Not) Belong The Fifth Day: The Sweet Smell of Science... and Crepes Void. After spending a fair share of minutes pondering the nature of this latest dreamscape, that was the best Connor could come up with to describe it. A bleak, featureless void, made up of a deep, inky black darkness run through with streaks of metallic gray mist. The only feature to speak of -- the only thing visible for miles in all directions -- was the rocky landscape that he was now walking across. The ground was dull and lifeless; nothing but dust and rocks the color of dark chalk, resembling the surface of the Moon more than anything else. Connor walked, his gaze turned down and his hood over his head. He focused on the ground beneath his shoes, partly to avoid tripping over any of the irregular, haphazardly placed stones littered about, but mostly to avoid thinking of anything that might remind him of his sorry situation. About Equestria, about his horn, about the fact that he was as hopelessly lost as he appeared to be in his subconscious, wandering aimlessly with no real destination in mind. Without a way to accurately gauge time in this place, Connor couldn’t be sure exactly how long he had been going for, but something made him stop, eventually. Something caught his notice at the upper edge of his vision and he paused for a moment to bring his eyes forward and see what was in his way. The moment he did so, he involuntarily jumped back, when he saw another human being standing just a few feet away. He calmed down a second later, recognizing the person as being... himself. Specifically, it was an image of himself, reflected in what he could now see was a plain, tall mirror, standing erect as the only real object in this lonely space. It wasn’t anything fancy; just a simple reflective surface, framed in a thin arch of polished wood. The image inside it was of greater significance to Connor, and he took himself in, unable to keep his eyes from shifting to the long, spiraling horn jutting proudly from his forehead. It stuck out past his hair and from underneath the lip of his jacket’s hood, another fresh reminder that something was wrong. That something alien and unknowable was happening to him, and that he was utterly powerless to stop it. As irrational as it seemed, just the sight of it was making him angry. Angry at himself for all the mistakes he’d made. Angry at the universe for thrusting all of this upon him like some kind of undeserved punishment. And through it all, the mirror stood, revealing the person trying to hide underneath that hood; trying to run away from the issues that were plaguing him. Soon, Connor just couldn’t stand it any more, and he knelt down to pick up one of the many fist-sized rocks lying on the ground. He tossed it into the air a few times, testing its weight. Then, with a sadistic sort of amusement, he reared his arm back before flinging the projectile straight into the reflective surface. The result was instantaneous. With a satisfying crash, the rock sailed right through the center of the mirror, leaving a jagged hole in its place for half a second before the cracks spread out from the point of impact. The rest of the glass quickly crumbled and fell away, as did the image inside it, leaving nothing but the empty wooden arch. His frustration momentarily sated, Connor closed his eyes and breathed in and out, trying to steady the beating of his heart. After a while, he opened his eyes again to see that the broken mess of the mirror was gone, as was the arch. Connor sighed heavily, about to continue on his way before something in the left corner of his sight grabbed his attention. He turned his head slightly to find another mirror, identical to the first, and also bearing his reflection. There was something next to it, too. Yet another reflection. Connor turned his body around, slowly, to see more of the polished glass surfaces. Eventually, he did a complete three-sixty, finding that he was literally surrounded now. Everywhere he looked, he saw himself staring back, watching him -- judging him -- and he could feel the heat threatening to well up in his chest once more. Consumed by just one thought, the teenager once again grabbed another stone and let it fly instantly, straight through another mirror along with a similar shattering sound. Then another. One by one the images went away as more rocks were thrown with abandon. Grab. Throw. Smash. Until none remained. When Connor completed a full circle, and the last mirror was destroyed, he was nearly to the point of seething, his breath coming in gasps and his fists clenched at his sides. Connor hoped that whatever tricks were being played on him would stop; that he could just be left alone. But as he sensed yet another presence coming up behind him, he could feel his outrage all but boiling over. Thinking it was another one of those damned mirrors, Connor picked up one more heavy rock and turned on the spot, his arm cocked and ready to let loose. But it wasn’t a mirror this time. In the time it took for Connor to register the sight, it took all the effort he could muster to cancel his momentum and prevent his arm from moving. Instead of a mirror, or some other image of his person, it was a pony. Not just any pony; it was Twilight Sparkle, her lavender fur and dark purple mane with its pink highlight standing out vibrantly against the black and gray scenery. Connor froze up instantly, his arm still held back in a clearly menacing position and his expression still showing an angry scowl. The moment he turned, Twilight gasped audibly and took a frightened step back, breath catching in her throat and her violet eyes going wide. It was fear. She was afraid of him, and the instant Connor saw this, he felt his anger drain away almost immediately, replaced by an equal amount of shame for the unprovoked action he had nearly committed out of blind fury. Slowly, his arm lowered and, unable to continue looking at his friend’s terrified expression, so did his gaze. He loosened his grip, and the stone in his hand fell back to the ground with a heavy thump. Connor blinked for a few seconds, trying to steady his breathing, and he eventually mustered the courage to speak. “Twilight, I...” He trailed off upon realizing that the unicorn had suddenly disappeared. And in her place, another mirror, standing just a few feet away. This time, though, Connor swallowed deeply, managing to look at the sight without letting himself get worked up like he did before. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously stepped forward and up to the smooth glass to take a better look. Still unable to mask the uneasiness reflected in his features, he nonetheless took a good long look at himself, taking in the sight with a bitter acceptance. Now, more than anything, he just felt tired. Spent. Like he’d had enough of dealing with everything and just wanted something different. Something he was familiar with. Wishing there was something he could do so that he didn’t feel so... helpless. Connor sighed dejectedly and let his body lean forwards, intending to prop himself up against the glass using his arm. So it came as a great deal of surprise when, instead of hitting the glass, Connor’s arm didn’t stop. His eyes went wide in the fraction of a second it took to realize this, but aside from that, there was nothing he could do to stop his momentum from carrying him the rest of the way forwards. “Waagh!” Connor gave a startled yelp as his body slid past and into the mirror’s surface like it wasn’t even there. He experienced a disorienting feeling of vertigo as he felt his feet leave the ground, and suddenly, Connor found himself falling helplessly into an endless void of swirling, shifting black. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Whoa!” With a start, Connor jerked upright in his bed, his breath coming fast and his eyes shifting around wildly. His whole body was tingling; the sensation from his imaginary free fall still fresh in his mind. As he looked around the room to take in the details of Golden Oak’s loft, it took him a few seconds to recover from his sudden awakening, and slowly, he began to calm himself. Connor raised a hand to his chest to feel his heart still hammering through the fabric of his shirt, so he took a moment to close his eyes, feeling the bed beneath his legs and reaffirming his position on solid ground. Once he was breathing normally again, he removed his hand and opened his eyes, finding himself thinking back to the incredibly vivid dream he had just experienced. “Talk about ‘through the looking glass,’” he muttered to himself as he shook his head free the last remnants of vertigo. This action caused his hair to lightly touch against something on his forehead. He reached up a hand to brush it away, only remembering what it was the moment his fingers touched the hard, smooth surface of his new horn. Gasping slightly at the still unexpected sensation of something being where it shouldn’t have been, he instantly put his arm down to his side as his mind played catchup with the rest of his body. “Right... I have a horn now,” he had to tell himself, hoping that, by saying it out loud, it would make it easier to accept and move on, considering that it wasn’t exactly a surprise anymore. I’m in Equestria, in a library owned by a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle, and last night, my horn... Connor’s mind went blank for a moment as he remembered everything that had happened the night before. Specifically, the horn breaking out of his skin like a pointy xenomorph, and his subsequent feelings of crushing vulnerability and fear. Breathing out, Connor flopped back down on the bed’s pillow with a muted “flumph.” There, he was simply content to stare at the blurry brown curves and wood knots set into the library’s ceiling, as his memory slowly dredged up echoes of last night’s experiences. Connor felt safe in labeling that emotional break as the downright worst he had ever felt in his entire life. Even now, just thinking about it and its implications brought a shadow of that feeling back to the pit of his stomach all the way to the top of his spine. Now that he could look back on it, with his head clear and his emotional state relatively intact, he soberly realized how frighteningly easy it was to completely fall apart like that. Granted, it took four days for everything to finally reach a breaking point, but if Twilight hadn’t been there... Twilight... Connor went silent when he thought about what his unicorn friend had done for him in his darkest moment. She’d done more to help him than he ever would have expected, and it was probably solely due to her unbidden display of compassion and empathy that he’d survived the night with his wits intact at all. He didn’t even need to ask; she was just there, like the act was second nature to her. He couldn’t claim to know a friend back on Earth who would do the same, especially considering he’d only known Twilight for a couple of days. And that... feeling. That indescribable sensation he’d felt flowing into him before losing himself to sleep. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Was that normal? Did Twilight do it, or was it something else? Something about Equestria? Regardless, Connor couldn’t feel it at that moment, and surprisingly, he found himself missing it. Like feeling the warmth of the sun for the very first time, only to now find himself trapped in the shade. Connor used his hand to rub his eyes. This wasn’t the time for navel-gazing, and while the experience still weighed heavily on his mind, he couldn’t deny that he was feeling just a little better about himself and his situation. At least, well enough that he could stand to bring himself out of bed. Again, he raised himself up, looking around the room with his nearsighted vision to note that he was alone in the loft. Steady shafts of sunlight poured in through the window, shining down on Twilight’s perfectly made bed -- not surprising, considering her fastidious nature. What was surprising, though, was that Spike’s basket sat on the floor next to it, also undisturbed. If Connor recalled correctly, it had been a mess of blankets when he woke up the previous morning, so this was a curious thing to find. Did they even come up to sleep at all? Connor wondered as he shifted over, noting that he was still fully clothed as he cast off his blanket and began his usual stretches and cracks. With a grunt, he stood up and began to make his way across the loft to the stairs leading down to the second floor. On the way, Connor casually glanced to his right, at the short desk set against the wall, and he spotted his glasses sitting neatly folded on top. Relieved to have discovered them so quickly, he knelt down to pick them up and slide them onto his face, and when he raised his head, he couldn’t help but notice himself reflected in Twilight’s vanity mirror. Feeling fairly levelheaded at the moment, he decided that this might actually be a good time to study the new horn with greater scrutiny. Sitting mere inches away from the glass, Connor could take in every detail of the nearly four inch-long protrusion. It was bleached white in color, contrasting clearly with his skin-tone down near the base, where the hard surface blended perfectly with the top of his forehead. From what he could tell, the horn was almost perfectly smooth from the bottom all the way to the blunt, tapered tip, save for the gentle raised curve that spiraled down across its length. Curious, Connor hesitantly brought a finger up to trace along the curve’s edge, but the unexpected sensation from doing so made him draw back for a moment. It was the strangest thing. He had felt the touch through the horn, like it wasn’t just an extension of bone, but a living piece of his body. Again using his finger to gently rub against the slightly warm surface, he shivered at the light tickling feeling his touch left behind. It was really starting to creep him out, so he stopped, and a second later, so did the sensation. “So weird,” he said to himself, and despite his earlier animosity towards the change, he couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the implications. Then it occurred to him to attempt doing magic again -- it was a long shot, but he might as well try, anyway. Looking around for an object to test on, he settled on a hairbrush sitting near the base of the mirror. Unsure of where to begin, the first thing he tried was to simply focus with great intent on the brush, blocking out everything from his thoughts except that one object. Connor’s brow creased as he then imagined some kind of energy channeling through his horn, and consciously tried to direct said energy to perform the desired levitation. When that produced no obvious results, he tried to visualize the effect, imagining the brush wrapped in a telekinetic aura of his own and raising off the table like he had seen other ponies accomplish. Nothing was happening, though, which wasn’t really all that surprising. He didn’t have a clue what the hell he was doing, after all. After about thirty seconds of straining and intense focus, Connor was about to just give it up. But just then, a thought flickered across his mind; a thought that couldn’t help but bring a small cheeky grin to his lips. Connor rose to his feet, then raised his arm, palm outstretched towards the motionless brush, like a Jedi using the Force. Then, he tried words. “Lift. Rise. Ascend. Fly. Levitate. Yip-yip,” he halfheartedly listed off, each time accompanied by a flick of his wrist. “Fuck it. Wingardium Leviosa.” Through it all, the hairbrush mocked his efforts by refusing to move so much as a centimeter. It was then that he gave up, dropping his hand and resigning to the fact that his new horn was just as useless as ever. Realizing how silly he probably looked -- even though there were no witnesses to his fruitless display -- Connor sighed and brushed it off, leaving Twilight’s vanity table to continue making his way down the stairs. As he made his way across the second floor, however, a sudden sound drew his attention. “Hoo,” came a noise to his right, and Connor’s head snapped around to see Owloysius, sitting up on a small raised perch by the wall, and looking at him intently with his small, beady eyes. “Oh, jeez,” Connor responded, mildly shocked by the owl that he hadn’t noticed was there until he made his presence known. Wait, that meant that he had been sitting there silently the entire time. “Uh... You were watching all that, weren’t you?” “Hoo,” Owloysius replied with a flutter of his wings. “Great.” Connor rolled his eyes, embarrassed. “I don’t suppose we can just keep this between you and me?” The owl said nothing, blinking a few times, before he raised one of his wings and held it in front of his small orange beak. “I’ll take that as a yes. Thanks, Owlo... Ow-Owelish... Um, thanks.” The teenager sagely decided to move on before he made an even bigger fool of himself in front of Twilight’s pet owl, and he departed for the stairs while scratching the back of his neck. When he made his way to the opening leading to the main room of the library, he stopped and peered inside for a second. The state of the library was in much the same condition as he had left it the previous night, except the book piles were slightly larger and took up even more of the floor. Amidst the silence in the room, he could just barely make out a furry lavender leg sticking out from behind one of the piles, as well as the slumbering form of Spike lying some ways away, on his back with a book covering his face and his limbs and tail splayed out around him. And on the dragon child’s green, scaly belly, rising and falling in time with his breathing, little Peewee lay curled up into a tiny ball of orange feathers and fluff. So that’s where Peewee is. I was wondering where the little guy went last night. The sight made Connor chuckle lightly before he caught himself, covering his mouth with his hand. As quietly as he could so that he didn’t disturb the sleeping trio, he gently tiptoed down the steps to the ground floor. Once he reached the bottom, he turned around in order to look at Twilight more clearly. What he saw when he did... was undoubtedly the most absolutely adorable thing he had ever seen. Twilight lay on her side facing him, atop a bed of books in all colors and sizes, with her head resting against the surface of one particularly thick tome. Her front hooves were tucked firmly against her chest, like a praying mantis, while her hind legs were spread in front of her body at different angles. Mouth slightly open, Connor could hear the sound of her steady breathing as her chest rose imperceptibly along with it. And as opposed to their usual perfectly straight nature, both her mane and tail were just messy and unkempt enough to lend her a charming air of frumpiness. She was like the world’s cutest stuffed animal, surrounded on all sides by the library’s contents like it was her own private sanctuary. The whole scene came together into something that would melt the heart of all but the toughest, meanest, hardest of people. So one could imagine the effect it had on Connor. A soft smile turned up the corners of his lips, and as much as he wanted to just bask in the moment, he realized how awkward it was for him to just stand there watching her. He wished he could at least take a picture. Wait a minute. I can take a picture! he realized immediately. Connor then quietly made his way around the minefield of literature over to his coat, still draped over the wooden pony bust in the center of the room, and fished around in the pockets until he came up with his iPod. He held it in his hand for a few seconds, remembering that his beloved gadget was more than half dead at this point, but then he quickly figured that, for what he needed it for, it was only going to be on for a few seconds anyway. He silently moved into position, clicking on the device and swiping across to access the camera app. After waiting a few seconds for his iPod to focus and to get all of Twilight in the frame, he brought up his finger and pressed down to snap the picture. The instantaneous “click” sound emitted by the device made Connor cringe as it unexpectedly pierced the silence, and he looked over to Twilight when he noticed one of her pointed ears flick in response. But she merely smacked her lips lightly and shifted around on her nest of books, which in and of itself was also supremely adorable. Satisfied, Connor powered off his iPod and put it back where he had found it. Now, unsure of what else to do with Twilight and Spike still sleeping, he ended up ruminating on what exactly he would say to the unicorn mare when he got the chance. That eventually led him to thinking about just how much she meant to him. After everything that had happened, it seemed so trite to simply consider her as just a friend at this point. Not when he considered how much she was doing to support him. Giving him shelter, feeding him, showing him around Ponyville, and most recently acting as his emotional lifeline right when he needed one most. And now, she and her draconic assistant had apparently spent the entire night -- pushing themselves to the point of exhaustion -- doing research on his behalf. And to think, he had done so comparatively little in return for Twilight’s efforts. Well, that’s going to change, starting today, he decided without hesitation. But what exactly can I do? Connor raised a hand to his chin, unable to imagine anything he could do to repay Twilight for the amount kindness and patience she’d shown him. At the very least, he figured he should try to come up with a way to show his appreciation. Absorbed in thought, he felt a slight grumble come from his stomach as it communicated its desire for food, as he really didn’t have much for dinner the night before. That was hardly important at the moment, but it did help him come up with an idea. Careful not to make a sound, Connor turned around and walked to the hallway leading to the kitchen, fully intent on actually making himself useful first thing in the morning. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a smell that finally roused Twilight from her deep, study-induced slumber, as the scent of something sweet and slightly doughy floated past her nose. Taking a deep inhale, she gently came to, her first thoughts wondering about the nature of the mysterious smell, and her second thoughts on the aching twinge emanating from her neck as she moved her head around. Her eyes slowly creaking open as she took note of her dry mouth, it took her a moment of taking in her surroundings to realize what it was she had been sleeping on. With a start, Twilight turned upright, her eyes scanning over the book she’d been using as a pillow to make sure she hadn’t accidentally left any drool stains on her precious literature. She eventually convinced herself that the books were indeed safe. “Whew. That’s a relief,” she sighed, amazed that she had so easily let herself fall asleep right in the middle of her intense studying. She made a quick mental note to clean up after herself at her earliest convenience. Still shaking off her case of the sleepies, Twilight yawned widely before getting up on her hooves and surveying the library. She spotted Spike and Peewee, still snoozing away in their own little corner, and she snickered at the sight. “Aww, poor Spike,” she whispered, not finding it at all surprising that her baby dragon friend was completely wiped out, having stayed up long past his bedtime. Then, her thoughts wavered for a second, before the fact that Spike was still asleep finished processing, and she had a sudden realization. “Wait... If Spike’s still asleep, then who’s making breakfast?” It couldn’t have been... No, could it really be Connor at work in the kitchen? After what had happened the previous night, Twilight would be genuinely surprised to see the human up and about at all. Concerned and more than a little curious, Twilight trotted lightly down the hallway to her kitchen in order to investigate. When she reached the door at the end, she reared up on her hind legs to look through the small round window to the inside. Sure enough, she spotted the tall form of her alien friend hard at work at the stove on the far side, though she couldn’t quite make out what he was working on. Twilight lowered herself back on her hooves, trying to think of the best way to approach the situation, but nothing particularly notable came to mind. Eventually, she decided it would probably be best to just enter and say hello, and then see where things went after that. She cautiously placed a hoof on the door, slowly nudging it open. The squeak of the hinges announced her arrival, causing Connor to notice and stop what he was doing, turning around to face her. “Oh... Morning, Twilight,” he greeted her with a meek wave of his hand. “...Good morning,” came her reply. There was an awkward silence between the two of them, both saying nothing and both trying to avoid the other’s eyes. The thing on the minds of both human and pony was obviously the tense moment the two had shared the night before. Connor’s hands fidgeted for a moment before he finally decided to talk. At the same time, Twilight too opened her mouth to speak. “Maybe we should--” “I think that--” They both stopped at once, and Twilight felt her face tinge slightly in embarrassment, before taking the initiative and being the first to speak up again. “You first.” “Okay,” Connor agreed, taking a deep breath. “Well, to start off, I just wanna say... I’m sorry.” Twilight tilted her head, confused by the admission. “For what?” “For last night,” the human clarified, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “I... I really lost it, didn’t I? I don’t know what to say.” “You don’t need to say anything, and you don’t need to apologize,” Twilight assured him in a soft voice while shaking her head. “You did nothing wrong. Frankly, I don’t blame you for what happened. You were scared. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” The unicorn took a few steps further into the kitchen, looking up at Connor while he fought against a lump in his throat. “I know. Thanks. I just... I just wish you didn’t have to see me like that.” Twilight shook her head again. “It’s no problem at all. We’ll see this through, don’t you worry.” She smiled warmly at him, trying to inject a bit of hopefulness in her voice. “It’s nice to see you’re feeling better, by the way.” “Yeah...” Connor reached up to tap his horn thoughtfully. “I still don’t have a clue what the hell is going on, but... I can deal with it. At least, I’m pretty sure I won’t be having another catastrophic meltdown.” “That’s good,” Twilight said with a chuckle. “Well, just in case, you should know that my shoulder is always available.” Connor returned the laugh. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” There was more silence for a few seconds, before Twilight’s expression turned to one of concern, and she leaned over to the side to look past Connor to the stove. “Hey, aren’t you cooking something?” “Oh, crap!” Connor exclaimed as he whipped around, noticing that what was in the pan he was using was now crispy and black, and slightly smoking. Frantically, he picked up a spatula sitting on the counter and brought both items over to the nearby waste bin, scraping off the burnt mess while wearing a sheepish expression. “Sorry about that. I hope I didn’t ruin your pan.” Twilight walked over to his side, obviously amused, going by the smirk on her face. “That’s alright. Even if you did, it’s nothing a little magic can’t fix. What are you making, anyway?” “Oh, uh, well, I wanted to do something nice for you and Spike for a change, so I thought I’d make breakfast today. I hope you don’t mind.” “Of course not, Connor. That was thoughtful of you,” Twilight said appreciatively, looking over at the counter next to the stove. Sitting in a row, she noticed a haphazard arrangement consisting of an open bag of flour, an empty bottle of milk, an egg carton missing all but two eggs, an almost empty bowl of what the unicorn assumed was some kind of batter, and a plate bearing what appeared to be a stack of very thin pancakes, still steaming a little. “You never told me you could cook.” “It’s not like that; I really can’t. This is the only recipe I know,” Connor admitted, picking up the batter bowl and scooping the last bits into the pan with a spoon. “It’s called ‘palachinki,’ which is just a fancy Bulgarian word for crepes. My dad showed me how to make ‘em.” Connor set down the bowl with a hollow-sounding clang, then stopped and hesitated for a second, before determinedly shaking his head and continuing. “I’m almost done, by the way.” With one hand, Connor picked up the pan and started rotating it around, ensuring the batter spread out evenly. “If you want, you can go wake Spike up, then the two of you can set up the table and break out any jams or jellies you have to go with these.” “I think we should let Spike sleep in for now. He was up way past his bedtime, so he kinda deserves it,” Twilight said as she moved to the refrigerator, using her horn to grab a couple of colorful jars from inside. “He sure looked pretty out of it,” Connor agreed as he gently nudged the last crepe onto the plate using the spatula. “These things keep well in the fridge, so we can just leave him the leftovers.” With all of the batter used up, Connor proceeded to shut off the stove and start cleaning up by bringing all of the dirty dishes to the sink. Meanwhile, Twilight helped by setting the table, using her magic to neatly lay out two plates, two cups, and a set of utensils at either end. After about a minute, the mare had finished and was sitting patiently on her haunches by the table while Connor brought over the results of his efforts and set the plate between the two of them. Connor briefly showed Twilight what to do, peeling one of the wafer-thin pastries off the stack and putting it on his plate, before scooping out some of what looked like grape jelly from the jars Twilight retrieved earlier. After spreading it around a little, he rolled it up tightly with his fingers and eagerly took a bite, watching Twilight do the same with hers. Not bad, Connor thought to himself as he munched away. Especially considering I haven’t made these in forever. “This is really good,” Twilight said between bites of her own apricot spread, held a short distance from her mouth in a glowing purple field. “Thanks, I’m glad you like ‘em.” A few minutes passed as the stack of palachinki slowly grew shorter, breakfast going by in relative silence as neither Connor nor Twilight could really think of anything to say. Eventually, though, Connor noticed the lavender pony trying to sneak glances at his forehead when she thought he wasn’t looking. He finished his current bite, swallowed, then let out a sigh. “Go ahead and ask, I can tell that you want to.” Connor’s hunch proved correct, as Twilight lowered her half-finished crepe to the table and immediately launched into questioning. “What is it like? Does it hurt? Can you feel anything from it? Have you done any magic?” “Whoa, slow down.” Connor raised his hands, smirking at her bright-eyed enthusiasm. “Okay. In order: really weird... not anymore... yeah, kinda... and no. I tried, but no.” “Fascinating.” Twilight’s mind was running at full speed, absorbing this new information. “And you don’t feel any pain? At all?” “Nope.” Connor shook his head. “No headaches, no nothing. Not since last night.” “That’s good to hear.” Twilight nodded, relieved at this bit of news. “Well, from what I can tell, it doesn’t seem to have changed in any way while you slept, so maybe this is the end of it. Whatever ‘it’ is.” “I sure hope so,” Connor agreed, lightly knocking on the wooden table. “Speaking of which, did you guys find anything in all those books?” Slowly, Twilight’s face fell and her ears drooped down, and she found herself lamenting the fact that, despite all of her hard work, poring through tome after tome, she couldn’t come across anything useful. “No... we didn’t,” she reluctantly admitted. “None of the books in this library mentioned anything having to do with spontaneous generation of alien body parts.” “Wow, really?” Connor was incredulous. “Nothing?” “I know, right? I was surprised too!” Twilight said, exasperated, as she put yet another thin pastry on her plate along with a blob of jam. “I mean, I figured there might be something in the encyclopedias on Transformation and Alteration Magic at least, but now I'm thinking that something like this probably doesn’t even fall into the same category as something like a spell to give a pony wings.” “Wait, you can do that?” Connor eyed the unicorn skeptically, finding himself intrigued by the concept. “Yeah, I tried it once on Rarity, when we went to Cloudsdale for the--” Twilight paused, breathing in sharply. “Oh, right, I haven’t told you about that yet. Anyway, yeah. It’s not the easiest spell in the world, but it is possible.” “That’s pretty cool,” Connor had to admit, and all this talk about magic and spells was starting to get him thinking. “Say, you don’t suppose it could be as simple as casting, I don’t know, some kind of “reversal spell” or something? In fact -- and I know there’s probably a good reason for this, but hear me out -- why can’t you just use magic to make the horn go away? It sure seems capable of doing pretty much everything else around here.” Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle at her alien friend’s understandable naïveté. “You’re right. There is a simple explanation for that.” Twilight took a deep breath as she prepared to explain what was, to her at least, one of the easiest things to understand about the nature of magic on Equis. One of the first things any of the three races of pony was taught when they were old enough to enroll in school was that most (if not all) spells are inherently temporary. Given enough time, all nonnaturally occurring magical effects inevitably fall victim to entropy, and the target of the spell eventually returns to its original state. Though this happens to vary depending on the complexity of the spell and the relative magical ability of the caster, no form of magic had ever been devised that could last indefinitely without a constant supply of energy to support it. Therefore, even if there had been any sort of “quick fix” solution, it wouldn’t solve the problem in any lasting fashion. “And that’s why this is so frustrating,” Twilight wrapped up, as both her and Connor started to clean up what was left of their finished meal. “The gradual process of your predicament is unlike any magic I’ve ever encountered. I don’t even know if it’s being caused by a specific kind of magic. It could be something else entirely. And until we know more, I’m not willing to risk casting any old spell and hoping it’ll stick.” “That’s... disappointing, but I guess I can understand,” Connor responded as he picked up both his and Twilight’s dishes to put them in the sink, while Twilight took the leftovers and slid them inside her fridge. “So, where does that leave us? Are we giving up?” “Oh, no. Hardly. Our next course of action is obvious.” Twilight said the next part while unable to hide the expectant smile on her muzzle. “Research and experimentation!” “Uh... I don’t know how I should feel about that word, ‘experimentation,’” Connor uneasily replied, Twilight’s statement conjuring up images of dimly lit labs and cackling scientists. “Relax.” The unicorn rolled her eyes condescendingly. “It should consist of nothing more than taking a few samples, observing your reactions to certain stimuli, and recording some thaumaturgical readings. Hopefully, gathering some raw data will help shed some light on what exactly caused this growth to occur.” Connor folded his arms together. “Alright. When do we start?” “No time like the present!” Twilight replied chipperly. “I cleared away my entire schedule for today, so we have all the time we need. Not that I expect it to take the entire day, but it never hurts to be prepared.” “Aww, you didn’t have to do that for me.” Considering all the fretting the studious pony had done over her beloved schedule two days prior, Connor could at least recognize how much of a big deal it was for her to set aside the whole day on his behalf. Twilight raised a hoof and held it in a gesture of denial. “Nonsense. Nothing’s more important than helping a friend in need,” she said with one hundred percent certainty. Then her ears lowered slightly, and she looked off to the side. “Although... I would be lying if I said that was the only reason. All of this is just so intriguing.” “Yeah, ‘intriguing’ is the word,” Connor said sarcastically, but he knew what she meant. If he was being honest with himself, he too was immensely curious about getting answers. “In any case, it’ll take me awhile to get set up in the basement,” Twilight said as she turned around and headed for the kitchen door. “You can keep yourself occupied until then, right?” “Sure. I think I might take a shower, actually. I sure could use one.” “That’s fine. And don’t worry about the... Well, let’s just say I took care of that mess in the bathroom.” Twilight paused at the door, using one hoof to hold it open as she called back over her shoulder. “Come down into the basement whenever you’re ready. I’m pretty sure you know the way.” With that, she departed, and as she made her way through the library to her basement laboratory, it was all she could do to contain her excitement at the pursuit of new information and the thrill of discovery. Not to mention furthering the causes of both science and magic. And helping her friend, of course. That was important, too. ------------------------ “Hey, Twilight, it’s me. Are you ready yet?” Connor called out as he peeked his head through the doorway at the end of the flight of stairs leading down to the library’s sub-level. Freshly showered up, he’d hoped that around fifteen minutes was enough time for the unicorn to make whatever preparations were necessary for the aforementioned “research and experimentation.” “Just about! Go ahead and come down!” came Twilight’s reply from deep inside the room, and Connor heeded her invitation, stepping inside the basement itself and closing the heavy door behind him. Upon getting his first good look at the wide, open space of Twilight’s “lab,” he couldn’t decide on whether to feel more vindicated or disturbed, as the general atmosphere did very little to dispel the “mad scientist” vibe he got earlier from the mare. From his position on top of the raised walkway that led to a set of descending stairs, he could see every inch of the basement, as well as its interesting blend of both technology and nature. The walls and floor seemed to be made out of some kind of reddish-brown clay, and all along the sides of the room, a menagerie of metal and scientific-looking machines took up most of the space. There was everything from huge metal pipes reaching up to the ceiling, to sparking Tesla coils nearly as big as he was, and big, bulky machines whose purposes escaped Connor, fitted with a generous amount of gaskets, dials, and blinking lights, all wrapped up and intertwined with the gnarled roots coming from the treebrary sitting just above his head. Alongside the machines were elaborate glassware setups, and rows upon rows of beakers and test tubes: some empty, others filled with glowing, sometimes bubbling liquids in bright, neon colors. Also set into the walls were little cubbyholes, cluttered with -- what else? -- books, along with a bunch of unlabeled jars and containers as well as various gadgets and spare parts. The very center of the room, however, was bare, save for a lone chair standing next to Twilight herself as she was currently occupied, using her magic to telekinetically move a number of small items around the lab, seemingly at random. Connor let out a low whistle. “Impressive.” “Thanks. Sorry if it seems a little messy. Not many ponies come down here aside from Spike and myself,” Twilight said, maneuvering a set of vials into place before turning to face Connor at the top of the stairs. “Go ahead and take a seat right over here, we can begin momentarily.” Connor couldn’t help but have a private chuckle to himself. Go ahead, take a seat, he monologued internally in his best Chris Hansen impression, as he made his way down the zigzagging stairs to the main floor. “Sure. By the way, you never told me that Mary Shelley designed your basement.” “Hold on. Is that another one of your human references?” Twilight shot him a curious glare as he walked past her. “You know I don’t understand a thing you’re talking about when you do that, right?” “Yeah, yeah. My incredible wit continues to go unappreciated,” Connor muttered sarcastically before sitting down in the chair. He then folded his arms together. “So, how are we gonna start?” “First things first: I’d like to collect a few samples,” explained Twilight as she walked over to a nearby table and levitated a few small objects. “Of... what, exactly?” “Oh, hair, saliva, that kind of thing.” Twilight lolled her head innocently, coming towards Connor with a q-tip floating beside her. “Open wide, please.” “Huh? Oh, sure.” Connor opened his mouth, feeling like a kid in a doctor’s office as Twilight proceeded to swab the inside of his cheek. Once that was done, she secured the swab in a glass vial and placed it back on the table, while picking up a short pair of gleaming scissors at the same time. Using the scissors, she then snipped off a single lock of his brown hair, putting it in a similar container. Connor, meanwhile, was starting to feel a little silly just sitting there while Twilight did her work. “Hair, saliva... What’s next? Gonna ask me to pee in a cup?” Twilight paused, her face souring slightly at Connor’s attempt at a joke. “Um... no. Why would...? No.” She shook her head as she went back to the table, but then she hesitated as she looked back at him over her shoulder. “Although, you aren’t afraid of needles, are you?” Connor’s smirk transformed into a concerned frown at the question. “No, why?” “Because I’m also going to need a blood sample,” Twilight clarified, turning around to reveal her next set of tools: a short, thin needle with a glass bulb on the end, along with a rubber hose and a bottle of clear fluid. Connor felt fine with it, being no stranger to donating blood on occasion, but he couldn’t mask a tiny bit of apprehension as Twilight began securing his left arm using the hose as a tourniquet. “Aren’t you supposed to have some kind of license in order to do this?” Connor asked nervously, as Twilight dabbed a bit of cotton in the clear fluid -- probably alcohol -- and started applying it to the inside of his arm. “Relax, I know what I’m doing,” she brushed him off, and before the human could protest further, she readied the needle and smoothly inserted it into his vein on the first try. “Ow! Hey, how about a little warning next time?” Connor flinched back, a brief lance of pain running up his arm after the needle slid in. Twilight didn’t respond for a few seconds, watching the ichorous fluid slowly fill the collection vessel on the other end of the needle. Once it was nearly full, she nodded, satisfied, and she placed another cotton ball over the entry point before quickly removing the needle from his arm. “See? Already done. Nothing to worry about.” She flashed him a sly smirk. Then, her horn glowed a fraction brighter, accompanied by a similar flash at where Connor was now rubbing his left arm. Lifting his hand away, he could see no evidence of the needle having entered his skin; she’d completely healed the minor wound with her magic. “There you go. All better.” “Great. Thanks,” Connor muttered lowly, his arm still tingling as he rubbed it up and down. “Are we done yet?” “Not quite. I need just one more thing from you.” Twilight’s ears lowered, as did her expression, as she placed Connor’s blood over near the other samples. “You’re really not going to like this, but... I need a horn scraping.” “A horn scraping.” Twilight was right, Connor didn’t like the sound of that, and the words alone sent shivers up his spine. “Yeah...” The unicorn nervously rubbed a foreleg against the other one, looking off and to the side. “And trust me, it’s just as unpleasant as it sounds.” Connor reached up and touched his horn, again reminded of its peculiar sensation, and already cringing at the fact that Twilight was coming towards him with a long, textured file in her violet aura. “...Okay. Just make it quick. Please?” “I’ll try,” Twilight promised. She hesitated as she came right up to Connor, file poised and ready, and the teenager could feel a bead of sweat forming on his brow as he shut his eyes and tried to think happy thoughts. ------------------------ Twilight was wrong. It wasn’t just unpleasant, it was mind-numbing. Once, a couple of years back, some of Connor’s high school friends had dared him to chew on a piece of tinfoil, and despite knowing that it wasn’t going to be fun, he did it anyway. That’s what the scraping felt like to him, only five times as bad, and as though the sensation was coming from inside his brain. Luckily, Twilight had been correct in saying she’d do it quickly, and after only a few seconds she had gathered the minuscule particles of Connor’s horn she’d managed to shear off into a water-filled vial she had sitting ready. Then, while Connor was busy trying to unclench his teeth and rub the stars out of his eyes, she went over to a centrifuge located off to the side to let the sample spin while they moved on to phase two of her study. The next half an hour in the basement went by at a rather boring pace, compared to what Connor had to go through beforehand. The time was split between Twilight examining her samples with various testing apparatuses, both magical and scientific, while simultaneously administering a number of tests to Connor to gauge his physical and mental states. Everything from testing his reflexes to making him stare at inkblots and describing what he saw. And all the while, Twilight kept intense and detailed notes, writing down every relevant detail in a little notepad she kept with her at all times. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she put down her pen and paper, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Does that mean we’re done?” Connor asked hopefully, having long since had his fill of being poked and prodded by his four-legged friend. “Almost. Just one more thing we need to examine,” Twilight answered moving around the lab to a sheltered corner behind one of the tables. With a glow of her horn, she brought out what looked like a big, shiny green box on four wheels, covered in knobs, dials, and a thick roll of paper. Following closely behind were two more metal objects attached to the first one by electrical wires: a big, heavy-looking helmet completely coated in colorful lights -- something that instantly reminded Connor of Doc Brown’s mind-reading device from the first Back to the Future movie -- and a smaller green box with two metal restraints on top, also containing a bunch of readouts and buttons on its surface. “What is all that stuff?” Connor questioned as Twilight dragged the expensive-looking machine out of the shadows and around to the center of the room. “This,” Twilight clarified, slightly out of breath, but still managing a grin as she put everything into place. “...is a thaumograph.” “You say that like I’m supposed to know what it means.” Twilight snorted, rolling her eyes. “A thaumograph is a machine designed to monitor and record fluctuations in magical energy. I’ve modified this one to be able to detect magical activity in a living creature’s body. Put your arms in here, please.” The unicorn motioned to the smaller device on the floor, the one with the holsters, and Connor did so, sliding his hands through the cold metal hoops. Then Twilight’s horn lit up again, and she magically grabbed a table and some other contraption and brought it over to them, setting it down in front of Connor. Sitting on the table was what looked like a simple plastic tube with distance marks every inch or so, containing a blue ball sitting at the bottom. “What we’re going to do is I’m going to turn on the machine, then you’re going to try and levitate this ball as high as you can. It’s a basic test of magical ability, but it’s perfect for what we’re trying to do.” “But I told you, I already tried using magic,” Connor pointed out as Twilight picked up the thaumograph’s helmet and placed it over his head, where it sat heavily while the unicorn secured it with a strap under his chin. Connor fought to maintain his balance as the helmet, which must have weighed at least ten pounds, threatened to tip him over. “It didn’t work then. What makes you think it’ll work now?” “It’s still worth it to monitor the attempt, and it pays to be thorough,” Twilight continued, looking him over to make sure everything was in place. She walked back over to the bigger machine, raising her hoof and keeping it hovering over a big, red, rectangular switch on the side. “Are you ready?” she asked, and Connor nodded as smoothly as he could with the heavy helmet weighing down his head. Twilight nodded back, and wasted no time in pushing the button with a soft click. Right away, the machine started humming with power, short puffs of steam being expelled from a spout on the other side as the roll of paper started to turn, revealing a bright red line drawn across its surface as it slid around. Below that, a single length of paper was being ejected out of a narrow slot, in the same fashion that Connor recalled seeing on seismographs or ECG machines back on Earth. Twilight twisted her neck around, looking at the slightly jagged line displayed on the readout with a curious expression. “Are you trying to perform the test at the moment?” she asked her subject. “No. Why? Should I be?” “Curious...” Twilight rubbed her chin with a hoof, looking puzzled. “The thaumograph is registering a very, very small magical current. But if you’re not doing anything...” She trailed off, deep in thought, before shaking her head and going back to the red button, switching the machine off. “It’s probably just not calibrated correctly. I haven’t used this thing since that whole ‘Pinkie Sense’ debacle last year.” Not bothering to ask about what “Pinkie Sense” was, Connor was surprised when a purple aura suddenly engulfed his vision, and he felt the weight of the helmet lift off of him as Twilight redirected it over her own head. She plonked it down on herself and switched the machine back on. This time, the bright red line running down the paper was perfectly straight. Twilight then turned towards the table with the ball-and-tube apparatus, and with the barest effort, she used her magic to lift the ball up in the air, right to the top of the tube, before setting it back down. The result on the machine was glaringly obvious, as it let off a quiet series of beeps, and the line scrawled on the page jumped back and forth wildly for the duration of the lift. After she was done, the machine went silent again as the line went still. “No, the machine’s working just fine...” Twilight muttered, unsure of herself. Without bothering to switch off the thaumograph again, she removed the helmet and quickly placed it back on Connor, who winced slightly as the edge of the metal impacted the top of his horn with a metallic “ting.” The moment it was secure, the machine showed the same result as before: a small jagged line across the paper, a half-inch in width, signifying a very small, yet still present, magical current. “I’m... not sure what to make of this, to be honest.” Twilight sounded absolutely floored, as she had never encountered a result similar to this before. What the instruments were telling her simply didn’t make sense, and she could offer no explanation for what was causing the magical activity when no effort to perform magic was taking place. “Well, can I take this thing off now? My neck’s starting to hurt,” Connor spoke up, snapping Twilight out of her deliberations. “What? Oh, sure,” she answered, distracted. The mare moved back to the machine and powered it off while Connor took his hands out of the device’s steel cuffs and reached up to undo the chinstrap. He groaned with relief as he took the heavy headpiece off, setting it down on top of the smaller machine in front of him. “Is there anything else?” he asked cautiously, starting to feel antsy from sitting in the same position for so long. By now, Twilight had brought over her yellow notepad, flipping through its pages with her magic while holding up the stack of the thaumograph’s readings with her hoof. “No, I think I’m done,” she replied without even looking up. “I’ve done all the tests and experiments I can think of on such short notice.” “Aaaaand anything? Any clues?” Twilight was silent for a long time, her eyes narrowed and shifting around wildly as she double and triple-checked her findings, trying to figure out where the disparate pieces of the puzzle fit together. Eventually, she closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her snout and sighing deeply. “No. Nothing,” she spat out, like the words were leaving a bad taste in her mouth. “Even with all the data we’ve gathered, I can’t find any correlations. None of it’s given me any insight into what’s affecting you. The answer is here, I’m sure of it, but I just can’t piece it together!” Twilight let out a frustrated groan as she put down her notes and let her forelegs slide out from underneath her, lowering her body to the floor in a defeated slump. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” Connor consoled her, getting up from his seat and walking over to comfort his friend. “You’re trying really hard, and I appreciate it. Maybe you’re even trying a little too hard.” “But this is too important,” Twilight tried to protest, giving a little huff as the frustration she’d been keeping pent up all morning started releasing itself. “I just don’t get it. I’m Princess Celestia’s personal protégé. I graduated with top marks from the School for Gifted Unicorns. I’m the Element of Magic for crying out loud! Why can’t I figure this out!?” “Twilight, calm down. It’s not your fault.” Connor placed a comforting hand on Twilight’s back. He found it slightly ironic that, after his breakdown the previous night, it was now his turn to bring Twilight out of her mini spaz attack. “So you don’t know everything about magic. So what? We’ll just keep trying different stuff until we find something.” Through their contact, Connor could feel Twilight’s shoulders slowly untense, and she let out another sigh. “I know, I know... I shouldn’t let something like this get to me, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel like I’m letting you down, somehow.” “Again, it’s not your fault. You’re doing everything you can.” Connor removed his hand, standing at his full height as he took a few steps around the lab to stretch out his sore legs. Idly examining some colorful beakers and their bubbling contents, he continued to talk. “Maybe this is too big for just the two of us. Maybe it’s just as simple as finding someone who knows stuff about magic that you don’t.” Behind Connor, Twilight’s ears perked up as she raised her head off the floor to look at him. “Hold on. Could you repeat that, please?” “I said, maybe we should talk to a pony who knows stuff about magic that you don’t.” “Somepony who knows about magic... that I don’t...” Twilight rubbed her chin with a hoof, her mind once again churning with ideas behind her eyes, which had taken on a new hopeful luster. “Or maybe... somepony that isn’t a ‘pony’ at all.” Connor turned around, noting the change in his friend’s tone of voice as a positive sign. “What’s that? You have an idea?” “I think I do!” Twilight got up to her hooves with renewed vigor, facing Connor with a determined gleam in her eye. “I hope you’re up for doing a little walking. It’s time for us to take a little trip to the Everfree.”