//------------------------------//
// Prologue: Discovery 
// Story: Unfortunate Side Effects 
// by DWhay 
//------------------------------//




'Ten to the right, and seven down' Spike counted, setting books on their  
appropriate shelves. 'I wonder why Twilight has me doing this?' He thought to himself. 'I  
only rearranged the library last week, and she knows nothing's been checked out since  
then... maybe it's because she's stressed... I heard her talking to herself yesterday, and  
she keeps doing that thing where she paces in a circle.'

Outside the library a light drizzle fell, the occasional thick raindrop smacking  
the window, out of tune with the others. The moon hung low over the trees, making its  
slow climb up to the top of the heavens and casting a silver glow down on the buildings  
below. The crisp autumn wind drove all into their homes, wet leaves absorbing the rain  
or dissolving into ruddy brown and copper flecks. Soon snow would begin to fall in  
Ponyville, and the winter festivities would begin. The collecting of the leaves and the  
warm fires would start. But for now all that seemed worlds away in the tide of the brisk  
fall gale.

As painstaking as organizing the whole library was, Spike had the feeling that  
something was amiss with Twilight. She seemed different since her talk with Celestia, a  
short three days ago in the wake of the personality-swapping bedlam. Every day she woke 
up more tense, and whenever he would ask to make her something she would always  
turn it away, no matter how extravagant the dish he'd offer to procure. Even tea was  
beginning to be turned down. For Twilight that was like forgetting to breathe. As wrong  
as it felt, he was beginning to worry for her well-being, whereas normally she was the  
one fretting over his. So he'd made a resolution. If things kept getting worse, he would  
ask her about it. 

With that he picked up the last book and put it away, snugly fitting it between  
two thick tomes on the history of pegasus casting rituals. Sighing, the young dragon  
descended the ladder, hoping that he could get upstairs in time to catch Twilight awake.  
She was sleeping a lot more than usual; extremely odd for a pony as owlish as her. Every 
other month she stayed up until at least three in the morning and caught an hour or two 
of sleep. Now it seemed to be her most absorbing activity. She slept from roughly six at  
night until nine the next day sometimes. Then she always woke up looking awful, saying  
she wasn't rested and hadn't slept a wink. The more Spike thought about it, the more he  
saw that was askew with his caretaker.

As he set the stool against the wall in the cupboard, he turned to see that the  
curtains were drawn. Just a moment ago he'd sworn that they were open, letting in a  
small ray of moonlight. Another queer phenomenon that was becoming more and more  
frequent as the days went on. Objects would move without warning, with no hint of the  
aura that usually accompanied magic. Cups would float up to their respective cupboards,  
which would open and then allow its contents to be stacked neatly before closing. Plates  
he had to wash would wash themselves, the curtains would draw themselves, chairs  
would straighten as you walked into the room, among many others. It was nice to have  
the household tidy itself, but in a way it was also bothered him in a way words couldn't describe.

The sudden urge to cough clawed at the back of his throat. That only meant one 
thing. Clearing his throat dutifully, he breathed a jet of green flame, which then took  
the form of a scroll. Spike expertly caught it and prepared to march upstairs to set it on  
Twilight's nightstand for when she woke. But something stopped him. An urge he'd never  
felt before. It was strictly against Twilight's rules to ever open a letter from anypony  
without her express permission. Despite that, he felt the urge to break the wax seal on  
the scroll and read it. Something told him that whatever was written there was the  
whole reason why his guardian was acting how she was. Almost against his will and  
directly opposite his better judgment, he felt his claw slide across the parchment, separating the two ends of the paper in a seamlessly straight line.

'Dear Twilight,

I know that you're under a great deal of stress right now, but please try not to  
panic. As I explained in my previous letter, eventually your body will adjust to the amount 
of magic you are now capable of producing. I'm also afraid that, although I put my best  
efforts into it and several of my best researchers did as well, I have found no way to  
change you into a unicorn again. Even more grim, what I have found is that if you were to 
become just a unicorn yet again, you would... meet an unfortunate fate. The amount of  
energy you contain cannot be contained in any lesser creature, and there are rare few  
whom could hold more. For now it is simply best that you stay as you currently are and  
acclimate to your new-found abilities. 

On a less civil note, I'm sorry to tell you that there will be a long list of things that will begin to change about you in the very near future. For one, you will begin to feel ill. I have to ask you to refrain from eating or drinking anything right now, as any interference with your metamorphosis could cause unbearable pain. Avoid light sources, as your eyes will be especially sensitive from here on out. Finally, you may have very real physical changes in your anatomy besides the obvious exclusion of having wings. These might be pointing of the ears, mane-color changing, increased strength, sharper fangs, alterations to your Cutie Mark, and finally, much to your displeasure, a heightened sense of touch. It can make something as simple as bumping into a bench excruciating.

Finally, I have to include a few things I found about what may happen to you mentally. My research says that you may lose sight of who you are for a while, in the face of the sudden change to your body and drastically heightened senses. You may have an encounter with the 'Anti-Twilight', as it is. Both me and Luna have an antithesis, so I have no reason to think you will be exempt from this pattern. Also, things you may have found appalling may very suddenly seem like explorable venues. I must ask that you make sure you have a moral anchor, otherwise your dementia may be far more severe, and you might not like what you did during your psychosis.

If you need to contact me personally for any reason, I have imbued a  
teleportation spell into the parchment on the scroll. It will bring you to me no matter  
what the distance, and may be activated by saying my name three times. 



P.S. I beg of you, please keep all of this from your friends and report any  
strange symptoms to me as fast as you can manage. I don't remember when I became an  
alicorn, nor is there records of my youth, but if there is any way I can alleviate any  
discomfort I will do so. 
Your Friend,
Celestia                '

Spike's head was spinning at what he'd just read. When he'd seen Twilight with 
her wings she had told him that it was 'merely cosmetic' and that it didn't really make  
her an alicorn. She had lied to him. Since then her wings were gone, but he couldn't  
help but think that she was hiding something from him. Now he knew, the whole three  
days she'd been avoiding him by locking herself in her room and pretending to sleep.  
Feigning illness so that she could spare him and her friends the gory details of her  
transformation. As much as he sympathized with her, Spike felt slightly hurt by her  
secrecy. If anything, having her friends know would make it all the more bearable. 

Biting his lip, he set towards the stairs. He didn't know how he was going to tell 
her that he had completely disobeyed her rules and broken her trust. But if she used it  
against him he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from telling her that she had  
broken his, and what he did was no worse than her crime. Even though inside he knew it 
was juvenile, using the 'eye for an eye' argument. Just as his hand was about to reach  
for the door handle, it opened.

Twilight was sitting on her bed, in front of the window with the high moon in  
front of her, basking her in it's silver light. Spike could only see her outline, standing  
down by the door, in the head of her long shadow. As he stepped inside the door closed  
silently, the slight 'click' of the lock the only clue it had shut. Twilight opened her wings,  
and in response her shadow did the same, the tips of her feathers touching either side of 
the room. Her real wings were about three times her width, each flight feather only  
slightly allowing the light from the moon to pass through, making a misty, opaque pink  
mist spread over the walls behind her.

Spike cleared his throat to begin his explanation when his mentor rose from  
her bed, walking down the stairs as silently as a leopard. He gulped down air instead,  
fearing that she would be more upset at him that what he'd first thought. As she walked  
towards him, a plethora of candles lit themselves on a table that Spike hadn't noticed  
before, in the very center of the room. The flames were an eerie purple, revealing  
Twilight striding in his direction, a phantom cloaked in mauve. Just as she was in front  
of him, she stopped, standing before him and letting out a very tired, lethargic sigh. 

"If I told you once, I've told you a million times, Spike." She breathed, the scroll  
jerking from his grasp. "Don't read my mail."

In a seemingly short two sentences she had summed up the emotions roiling  
for attention in her heart. Her tone expressed pain, and she showed it in her eyes as  
plainly as if she had written it there. The way she moved seemed slow, indecisive. To say 
that Spike was reading her like a book would be a perfect description. He could tell by  
the way she kept shuffling her hooves that she was wondering just how much to tell him  
about her transformation. How she was going to tell him she was now an alicorn, and  
might just be forced into being a princess.

"Spike. I want you to know that I'm still your mentor, and the pony that hatched 
you all those years ago. With that said... I'm going to have to tell you something that I'm  
not proud of."

"Yeah, I know. You lied to me and-" He began

"No, not that. I need to tell you that I might go away, soon. Very soon. And if you 
decide to follow me, you will never see Ponyville again. We'll have to go to Canterlot.  
It's the only safe place for me right now. And by default, everypony I call a friend has to come too."

Spike had barely processed the words when he protested. "Why would we have  
to leave? You're an alicorn now, what could possibly put you in danger?"

"Chrysalis." Twilight said, bowing her head. "Discord. Luna is having trouble  
with her nightmares again. Maybe Nightmare Moon will try to come after me. Anypony  
who wants a bargaining chip against Celestia will be on the hunt once news gets out  
about this. And it will. The worst part is that, for now, I'm just as strong as any regular  
old unicorn. Not even that. I'm weak. I can't eat anything. I can't sleep. Sometimes I  
forget to breathe and then realize I've been holding my breathe for an hour. Time  
passes... so slowly, it's like the clock ticks backwards sometimes. I see things, and those  
are the ones I've experienced so far. I can't even imagine what's going to happen later."

"Why can't Celestia just come here?" 

"She prefers the protection that comes with a three millennia of overlapped  
protective spells, hard stone walls and an army of guards patrolling at all hours."

Spike fell silent. That was hard to argue with. Twilight turned her back to him  
and pulled a book from her bed, levitating it over to him with magic. She felt herself  
slipping every second that she spent idling. If she wasn't focused, it was as if a fog would  
settle on her mind and she couldn't find the right thoughts. Even words became hard to  
locate if she failed to concentrate. She was fighting a losing battle against her own body,  
and soon she would have to face it that she would lose control. She didn't know what  
would happen when she did, but she knew that she wouldn't be the calm, collective mare 
she was anymore. 

"Spike... you can set the scroll on the table. That book goes in section A-7."

Just as Spike was leaving she shot over her shoulder. "Oh, and bring me a copy 
of 'Binding the Untouchable: A guide on mental manipulations', please..."

When Spike had left she let her composure slip. Tears formed in her eyes the 
size of marbles, three days worth of frustration held in the crystalline droplets. Twilight 
didn’t know when she'd lose her sanity, or to what degree, but she knew it would happen. 
Within the next two weeks, she would snap. She would lose her battle with the mist that 
hung at the edges of her mind, and she would lose herself in it. Something in there was 
calling  her, an archaic beacon that she didn't have the will to resist. All she could do was pray that she was far away from anypony she held dear when she finally lost control.