Logic only gives man what he needs. Magic gives him what he wants.
Tom Robbins
You have done well.
Twilight barely slept the rest of the night, try as she might. When she did manage to nod off, she was haunted by the face she had seen. By the way her friends had looked. By what she had supposedly done.
But, mostly, she remembered the words.
She was quite sure most of them were nonsense, but the thing that kept running circles around her mind was the phrase she had chanted in her dream. She recalled every word she had said in perfect detail, and couldn’t help but repeat them to herself as she tried to sleep. She wanted to forget them, of course, but they wouldn’t loosen their grip on her subconscious. She couldn’t stop feeling what she had felt when she had cast that spell; the empty world, the lack of sound. It frightened her.
She awoke at some point to the first rays of light coming through her observatory window. She couldn’t recall another time when she had been so grateful to see Celestia’s star, but she knew what she had to do.
The purple pony got up out of her bed, walked to a table with her rolls of parchment, levitated a quill, and quickly wrote the phrase down word-for-word. It took up almost the entire page when she was finished. She set the quill in the inkwell and took a long look at what she had written. It didn’t make sense- she wasn’t sure why she had assumed it would, but she had felt an intense need to put it down on paper, after…
She looked over her balcony at the small pile of ashes lying betwixt several of her books. She was surprised with herself, almost unduly so. Book burning wasn’t usually her style. This was a special case, she said to herself, feeling the need to justify her actions. Nopony has to know.
She looked back to the parchment she had written the phrase on. Magically, she rolled it up and carried it with her, suddenly unwilling to part with it, as she descended her ladder and began the long process of cleaning up after herself after last night. The ashes went into a wastebasket, the books to their shelves, and the stray bits of paper to their respective tables. All the while she carried the scroll with her, never setting it down. Finally, it was all she was left with. She hesitated, and set it down on the table. It seemed to look back up at her, with what expression she couldn’t say. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do with it now that she had it. It certainly hadn’t cleared her head like she thought it might.
She shook her head and forced herself to continue cleaning up. This needed to stop- Rarity would be here soon.
For the last several weeks, the unicorn designer had been mentoring under Twilight, interested in improving her grasp on magic. Rarity had said it was a purely academic curiosity she had in the arcane- “Darling, I don’t think you should be the only one to know these things!”- but Twilight wasn’t sure that was her real motivation. Maybe she was still embarrassed about the suit of armor business from a while back. Truthfully, though, she didn’t mind teaching magic. It was the one thing she was proud to know like the back of her hoof. She just hoped she’d be in the proper mood for it this morning. The first few weeks of her lessons had mostly consisted of magic theory, which a younger unicorn would have found quite boring, but Rarity had seemed to eat it up. Today was the first real lesson.
Twilight cleared a small space in the middle of the library, placing a small table, some books, and her bag next to it. She was halfway through setting up some tea cups when she heard the familiar knock on her door, which opened to reveal the white unicorn. She smoothed her already perfect mane with a hoof.
“Good morning, Twilight!” she said cheerily, but her expression softened when she saw the purple mare. “Goodness, dear, you look terrible.”
She supposed she did. She hadn’t had time to worry about her appearance. She smiled good-naturedly. “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she admitted. Rarity lowered a brow.
“Perhaps we can do the lesson later? You look exhausted,” she said.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Twilight said quickly. She needed this. She needed something mindless to clear her head. Rarity gave her an odd look before giving in and entering the library, sitting down on one of the pillows Twilight had laid out. Twilight did the same, sitting down at the opposite side of the low table. She rummaged in her bag and retrieved a small metal puzzle. She placed it on the table.
“Did you read what I asked you to?” Twilight began.
“Every word,” Rarity said, looking down at the puzzle.
“Then let’s see how much you remember from last week,” she said. She nudged the bits of metal. Rarity took a critical look at it, and levitated it in front of her face, twirling it around and around to get a view of it from all sides. After half a minute, she began to magically manipulate the bits to form the desired shape. She closed her eyes as she worked. Twilight watched and waited. Rarity had a good deal of experience with controlling fine objects with her magic, so she had figured this would be a good place to start. She was right- in under a minute Rarity had completed the puzzle and set it down. She beamed with pride.
“Done,” she squeaked.
“Good!” Twilight praised, genuinely pleased. It was time for something more difficult for her, though. She levitated the tea kettle, full of water, and poured an amount into one of the cups in front of her. She set the cup in front of the white pony. “Freeze it,” she said simply. Rarity cocked a brow.
“Freeze it?” she asked, uncertain.
Twilight nodded. She knew the mare had no idea how to do this, but she wanted to see how she handled herself. “It’s a common spell for the weather ponies in Canterlot. Try it.”
Rarity concentrated on the water in the cup, and her horn glowed as she tried to do as she was told. The water bubbled a bit, but other than that, nothing happened for a long while. She closed her eyes again, trying to figure out how to perform the spell. Twilight waited a certain amount of time before speaking up softly with her planned lesson.
“The water moves, doesn’t it?” she asked.
Rarity opened her eyes reluctantly, her horn losing its glow. “Come again?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Twilight continued. “Try again.” Rarity looked at her with a lost expression. “Close your eyes, and try again,” she repeated. Rarity did as she was told, her horn lighting up.
“Even though it is still, the water moves,” Twilight said softly. “Not to your eyes, but to your magic, it is obvious. It’s almost unnoticeable, but if you go deep enough into the water, you can feel it. There is energy, a force that makes it so. Focus on the cup, and you will feel it,” she said. Rarity remained silent, taking all this in.
“Can you feel it?” Twilight asked.
Rarity hesitated. “Yes. Yes, I can. I think,” she said.
“Don’t think. Can you feel it?”
Another moment of hesitation, this one longer. “I can feel it.”
“Make it stop,” Twilight said. She could see the look of confusion on her face. “Make the motion stop. Take it away. Remove it.”
Rarity’s eyes shut a little tighter and her horn’s glow brightened a bit. In a far shorter time than Twilight had expected, the water in the cup frosted over, cracked, and froze. It hadn’t frozen to the center, but it was definitely mostly ice. Rarity opened her eyes and looked at what she had done with delight.
“I did it!” she exclaimed, stamping a hoof onto the ground. Twilight smiled at her success.
“So you did feel it,” she stated.
“Yes!’ Rarity said, still quite pleased with herself. “That was… exhilarating!”
“So, where did you put it?” Twilight asked. Rarity’s smile faded.
“What?” she asked. “Where did I put what?”
“The energy,” Twilight stated. “Where did you put the energy you took away?” Rarity looked rather puzzled at the question. She laughed uncertainly.
“I don’t know, darling,” she answered. Twilight shook her head.
“That’s the lesson for today. When you take something away from an object, you have to put it somewhere else. Our magic is powerful, but even we cannot destroy the building blocks of our world. Not even Celestia can do that.” Rarity suddenly didn’t look so proud of her cup of ice. She bit her lip with a slightly guilty look.
“So where did I put it?” she asked, looking back up.
“I dissipated it into the air for you while you worked,” Twilight said. “I made the room warmer.”
Rarity blinked. “That’s all? I didn’t feel anything.”
“It was only a cup of cold water,” Twilight pointed out lightly. Rarity’s features relaxed as she understood, but creased once more at the implications.
“What happens when you freeze something bigger?” she asked. “Like a lake?”
“You don’t do it all at once,” Twilight said off-handedly. “When’s the only time you freeze a lake?”
“For winter.”
“What else can you do with water during the Winter Initiation?”
Rarity looked at her ice, thinking for a moment. “Clouds?” she guessed.
“Exactly,” Twilight said. “If you move the energy to the top of the lake, you boil that thin layer of water. If you do it right, you get vapor. The weather pegasus ponies take it from there. In Canterlot, anyway,” she amended. “I don’t know how they do it in Ponyville.”
Rarity sighed. “I really must visit my family in Canterlot some time. It’s been too long…” she trailed off. She looked back at Twilight with a sudden interest. “What about a pony?”
Twilight’s voice lost some of its luster as she guessed what the white mare was asking. “What about them?”
“What happens when… you do that to a pony?” Rarity clarified.
At that question, scenes from her dream flashed in front of Twilight’s eyes quicker than she could consciously identify them. The purple mare swallowed and her face turned deathly serious. She was sure that Rarity didn’t mean anything by her question; it was a logical next thing to ask. She had asked the same question herself when she learned that spell. That said, she wanted to leave the correct impression while she had the chance. “Why in Equestria would you want to do that?” she asked dryly, looking straight into her eyes. Rarity caught the hint and averted her gaze.
“Duly noted,” she said quietly.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air as neither pony said a word. After a moment, though, Twilight gave Rarity a soft smile. “You did well. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please,” Rarity said, returning her smile, seemingly grateful for the change of subject. Twilight got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with tea bags. The two chatted away the hours amiably about whatever was on their minds, and passed the morning with more magic. The sun was high in the sky when Rarity departed the library with one of Twilight’s books.
It wasn’t until many hours after that that Twilight realized her scroll was missing.
***
Rarity felt a little guilty about borrowing the scroll she had found on the adjacent table, but she couldn’t help herself. She had never seen magic like that before, but she knew that if she asked Twilight to explain it to her she’d get another lecture.
And yet she enjoyed the lectures. At least, she thought she did. Maybe she didn’t. She hated admitting it to herself, but she was jealous of the purple pony.
Ever since she had arrived in Ponyville on Celestia’ ticket, she had been jealous. She had enjoyed her position as one of the more powerful magic users in the town up until that point. Certainly, there were better magicians in Canterlot where she had grown up, but in this town she had been revered for her skill. If not her skill itself, then the products of her skill- the finest clothing this side of Hoofington. And then she had showed up, and ever since the incident with that braggart Trixie she had been the go-to pony for her skill with the arcane.
Rarity didn’t hate Twilight- far from it. She enjoyed the mare’s company. It wasn’t even a raging jealousy of her magic that she felt. The best way she could put it was… inadequacy. Embarrassment. She felt outdone and outperformed, though she knew that wasn’t Twilight’s intention. She wasn’t used to feeling like this. The uncertainly of the feeling was almost as bad as the feeling itself. Today’s lesson was the clincher, even though she had succeeded with the spell.
Rarity shook her head as she entered her shop, locking the door behind her. She wasn’t sure whether she had wanted to outdo or impress her fellow magician when she had asked for the lessons in the first place. Maybe she didn’t want to do either. What she was sure of was that her first real step was this. She was going to fix this.
She flattened the stolen scroll out on her table and peered over the words. Most of them she didn’t recognize, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know what this scroll did. She didn’t care about that either. She recalled Twilight’s lesson on incanting spells, and started to speak the words slowly and carefully. She felt her eyes getting heavier with each word, and her horn glowed slightly, casting a pale purple light on the scroll. When she reached the last few words, she relented, closing her eyes and reciting the last bits from memory. She wasn’t sure if she lost consciousness or not, but when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in Equestria anymore.
***
She was at her home in Canterlot. In front of her was a table, with a single needle and a single strand of thread sitting on top of a sheet of fabric. At the other end of the table was her mother, though much younger than she was now. Her youthful face was bright with a smile as she motioned with her hoof towards Rarity.
“Go on, dear. What did you want to show mommy?”
Rarity looked at the thread before her, and without really thinking, tried to levitate the needle as she had done earlier. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. She stared intently at the needle, willing it with all her might to move just a single inch. The metal pin remained stubbornly in place. Her mother frowned.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
Rarity looked up at her with a reassuring smile as she continued to try to move the needle. She became more and more frustrated the more she kept at it, as the seconds ticked agonizingly by. Why couldn’t she do it? This shouldn’t be happening. This was supposed to be easy! She practiced for hours! Her mother was waiting; she wanted so badly to impress her, just once; to be a great designer like her! She began to cry out of pure helplessness, at her own failure. No matter how hard she tried, the pin refused to budge. She turned her face upwards, tears in her eyes, to face her mother, and found something in her expression that made her break down completely.
Disappointment.
***
She was back in that ancient ruined castle, facing down Nightmare Moon. She turned around to find her friends, but discovered she was the only one in the room. She steeled herself. It was up to her. She had to stop the god queen from bringing eternal night to Equestria.
Nightmare Moon laughed. “The hero! Is that what you fancy yourself as?” Her horn glowed a deep black and Rarity found herself lifted up into the air, unable to move. She laughed harder, almost a frenzied cackle. “Do you know what happens to heroes?!” her voice boomed.
***
She was at her workbench, staring at dozens of sketched designs over dozens of sheets of paper. Each one was rough, undetailed, and terrible. The floor of her shop was littered with tattered bits of fabrics, rolls of string, and discarded sewing implements.
***
She was in front of her shop now, but the building was decaying and most of the paint had been chipped away. Windows were broken. There was no one around her, and the sun was covered by thick, black, angry clouds. Rain poured incessantly down upon her coat.
Upon the door was a sign that said ‘Closed’.
***
She was in front of her friends, each one looking at her with an angry glare on their faces, as if she had mortally offended them. She wanted to say something, to say hello, or to ask what the matter was, but each of them turned away from her in turn. She tried to speak, and nothing came out of her mouth. One by one she was left behind, when at the end all that remained was Twilight Sparkle, who wore the grimmest expression of the five. She narrowed her eyes and spoke a word that had no sound.
***
She was in a grassy field, fully lit by Celestia’s bright summer sun. It wasn’t too hot, and there was a cooling breeze that sifted through the tall tufts of grass, making them sway with a comforting shuffling noise. The field was peppered by yellow flowers, and in the distance she just saw more rolling hills. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
She turned around as if by instinct. Behind her was a single apple tree, the only one she could see, with the shape of a pony underneath it. She trotted towards the tree curiously, trying to make out the shape. She was nearly upon the small figure when she recognized the white and purple mane.
“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity called out. The filly turned to look at her, a smile on her face.
“Hey, big sis! Come join me!” She did, closing the distance between them and sitting down in the shade of the tree. Her sister offered her an apple, which she took happily, munching on the snack. Neither spoke for several minutes, both admiring the scenery before them. Sweetie Belle broke the silence.
“You hate her,” she said simply.
Rarity looked at her, puzzled. “Who, dear?”
“Twilight. You hate her.”
“I don’t hate Twilight, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said, surprised, though she didn’t completely believe her own words.
“That’s not true and you know it. You hate her.”
Rarity furrowed her brow and put down her apple. “Who told you-“
“You want her to die,” the filly said. “You want to kill her. You want to show everypony that you’re better than her.” She paused. “Look, there she is now.”
Rarity turned. A purple unicorn was standing not ten feet from them. Her mouth moved as if she was calling out Rarity’s name, but she could barely hear her. She turned back to her sister, who was looking at her with a deadpan expression.
“Prove to them,” she said. “I know you can do it.”
Rarity recoiled, getting to her hooves. She looked between her sister and Twilight, growing more frantic. “Sweetie Belle! What are you saying? What’s going on?!” She heard her name being called by Twilight again, but the sound still reached her as if from a great distance, though closer than last time. When she turned back to her sister, she was gone, replaced by a black, smoky shape that only vaguely resembled a pony. The shape spoke to her in Sweetie Belle’s voice.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“No!” Rarity shouted. She heard her name again over the silence.
“Why? What has she done for you besides humiliate you?”
“She has done no such thing! Twilight is my friend!” she cried, stamping her hoof.
The shape ignored her tone and spoke in the same deadpan droll. “No she’s not. Go on. No one will know.”
“I’ll know!”
“Irrelevant. You’re not leaving this place until you do,” the shape concluded. Rarity’s name reached her ears, again, louder.
Rarity had never felt such rage in her life. Rage at things she couldn’t even remember, rage at the shape in front of her, and rage at her own helplessness. It all washed over her like a wave, and just as suddenly as it had come upon her, it was replaced by a single image: a small tea cup, filled with ice.
She looked the shape directly where its eyes should have been, and lit her horn with magical energy. She narrowed her eyes, delving deep into the shape and finding that core that she knew would exist. She tore, violently and as hard as she could, the core from the shape. The world around her flashed a brilliant white, the sound stopped, and she heard her name again, louder than ever before.
***
“Rarity!” Twilight shouted.
She opened her eyes to find the purple unicorn standing over her, with Sweetie Belle behind her, tears in her eyes. She blinked a few times to make sure her world was real. It was. She launched herself upwards and enveloped Twilight in a hug, squeezing her as tight as she could.
“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m so sorry!”