//------------------------------// // Comparing Both Notes and Phase // Story: Caught Between Day and Night // by lord_steak //------------------------------// “Ugh...too many nightmares….” Dawn scratched at her eyes.  As she opened them, she yelped and gasped in unison, leaping out of the bed.  She braced herself against the wall, hyperventilating.  This room was some weird purple crystal with lavish trim around the doors, baseboards, furniture, and so on. What is going on today!?  This looks like a castle of some kind, but whose is it?  Wait...there was that mysterious princess right before I passed out...what was her name? Dawn felt lightheaded.  She struggled to get her breathing under control.  She braced herself against the bed as her slowed the rapid breaths.  She sighed as lightheadedness passed, flopping her face against the sheets. The weight of her own limbs buckled her legs in her current state.  She sat there for a moment, not breathing. As her strength returned, she pushed herself back up and breathed normally. “She’s awake, Twi!” somepony shouted at the door.  Dawn turned and saw it wasn’t a pony at all, but the baby dragon from earlier. Oh...right.  “Twilight.”  That’d be why that crowd kept saying it over and over. Lazily blinking, she watched the back of the dragon leave.  Dawn took a closer look around the environs.  They set her up in a queen-sized four-poster with four wardrobes and a private bathroom.  These quarters also had a three-pony couch with coffee table, sporting current periodicals of athletics, finance, architectural trends, fashion trends, conservation efforts, fitness, culinary arts, and artistic expression, splayed across half the table in an even row and spread.  A ceramic vase glazed blue sat at the end, holding a yellow lily, with lily of the valley framing the larger bloom.  The vanity’s mirror was larger as the one in her own room in Ponyton. This is what quarters she keeps for ambassadors and diplomats?  I don’t think the wildebeest had this much luxury in their entire kingdom.  Is she trying to economically intimidate visitors? She could hear hurried footfalls in the hallway.  She turned to the door and saw the lavender alicorn from earlier.  She smiled cautiously, and entered the room.  With a courteous bow, said, “Your Highness, I’m glad you’re awake.” Dawn blinked, then returned the bow.  “Please, Your Highness, just call me ‘Dawn.’  I’m not one for formalities.” The other princess giggled.  “Me too, Dawn.  ‘Twilight’ would be fine.” Dawn felt a grin, the first real one since...well, rather than dwell on that thought, Dawn asked, “Where, exactly, am I?  I don’t recall seeing a ‘Ponyville’ on any map.” “Well—” replied Twilight with a raised eyebrow, “—you’re in the Ambassador Suite in the Castle of Harmony.  And yes, we’re in Ponyville.” Dawn closed her eyes and shook her head with a long sigh.  Twilight took a few steps with trepidation toward her.  Dawn looked up at her hostess.  “Forgive me, Twilight, but it’s all so confusing.  Everything is so close to what I know and remember, but nothing’s the same.  Let’s just start there, at the town’s name.  ‘Ponyville.’  I’m from Ponyton.  The architecture is nearly identical; in fact the only major difference I saw was what wood was used for the frames.” “Dawn…,” Twilight interjected.  “I think I may have an explanation.” “Oh?” Twilight nodded.  She walked by Dawn, motioning for her to follow.  The two princesses sat on the couch at opposite ends.  Twilight sighed, then started, “After you passed out, I did a quick scan of your body to make sure you didn’t have an internal injuries.  Physically you’re fine, but I noticed your magic is on a different waveform than the rest of us.” “A different waveform?  How much different?” Dawn asked with heavy breath. Twilight bobbed her head around a moment.  “The easiest way to explain it is to say all the peaks of the pattern are reversed.  Everything else, though, is identical.  Amplitude, wavelength, frequency, everything alike, except the reversed waveform.” “Huh,” blurted Dawn.  She scratched her chin, then beneath her left ear.  “There are very few theories that would answer that.” Twilight nodded.  “And the only one that makes sense is—” “—near-parallel worlds,” they said in unison.  Their eyes met, followed by smiles, and then the giggles started. The princesses moved closer together on the couch, and over the next several hours shared their life stories, joking, laughing, and crying together, especially at their similarities.  Names were different, of course, as were locations, and certain personality quirks with every soul they ever knew, but for the most part, they knew the other’s story.  The differences were just enough to keep it interesting for both parties.  Twilight faced off with Nightmare Moon and the danger of eternal night, while Dawn halted the schemes of The Doomsday Star and her endless sunlight.  They bore the same Element, though Dawn’s was an Element of Friendship, and Twilight’s was an Element of Harmony.  Loyalty and Kindness were also the same.  The other three were close: Laughter instead of Joy, Honesty instead of Trust, and Generosity instead of Selflessness. The two both expressed their surprise that the others’ Elements’ pick of ponies, Dawn at the exclusion of zebras and thestrals, and Twilight at the diversity in Dawn’s world.  This “Pinkie Pie,” at her baseline, sounded like Tabasamu after he had about five too many espressos.  “Applejack” and Oat Rows would have been “close as kin,” as both would likely say.  Nightwatch and Fluttershy shared a common driving force, but this “Fluttershy” liked animals, while Nightwatch kept infant foals in the maternity ward’s nursery sleeping safe and happily.  “Rainbow Dash” and Greased Lightning would have been in constant competition from sunup to sundown.  Then there was “Rarity” and Garland Wreath, who had nothing in common: a creative fashionista, and a humble monk.  Both princesses had a good laugh about their closest friends compared to the other’s. So went the talks, until.... Twilight giggled, “Yeah, I know!  But, when you finish a spell started by Starswirl the Bearded, you can get some—” “Starswirl the Bearded!?  The writer of times and space spells!?”  Dawn gushed. Twilight’s face lit up.  “Master of transfiguration, dimensional calibration, and teleportation?!” “Creator of over two-hundred spells, builder the interdimensional mirror, and eccentric alchemist?!” they squealed in unison. Huge smiles passed between the two of them.  Both raised their forelimbs and pulled each other into a huge hug with giggling.  They stayed there for a moment.  After a contented sigh, Dawn said, “It’s too bad we couldn’t be from the same world.  We could have been best friends for much longer.” “Yeah…but we can start now,” sighed Twilight happily. Dawn chuckled, “I wonder if it’s the same pony?” Twilight laughed too.  “Maybe?  It’d explain how he was so knowledgeable of dimensions, time, and magic.” “Yeah.  It’s possible, I think.” As they let go, Twilight gasped in fright.  “Dawn!?” “What’s wrong?” “You’re...you’re…,” stuttered Twilight, wide-eyed and near hyperventilation. Dawn anxiously pressed, “Twilight, what’s going on?” “You’re...fading,” Twilight finished.  She still had not blinked. Dawn looked down, holding up her right forelimb.  She squawked in terror as jumped back like a startled cat.  She could partially see through herself.  As Dawn ran for the mirror, Twilight accompanied her.  It wasn’t just her leg.  All of her was a touch transparent.  She stared at her own hooves as she plopped into a sitting position.  Dawn felt queasy, staring through her hooves at the floor below them. “What’s happening to me?!” Dawn screeched, panic staining her words. Twilight’s eyes darted around.  Her lungs were also frantic as she squawked, “I don’t know!  You may be phasing out because you’re from a different world!  But that would mean you’d cease to exist!  We can’t just sit here before you disappear completely!” Dawn screamed again.  Her transparency was on the rise.  Whimpering and wide-eyed, she pranced in place as Twilight tapped at her head, breathing hard and fast while digging through a drawer.  Dawn yelled, “But what do we do!?” Twilight whipped out a blank scroll, a quill, and an inkwell.  She started a hasty scrawl as she urged, “We need a checklist for—” “A checklist!?  Now?!!” Dawn interrupted. “It’s how I get things done!” insisted Twilight, still writing away. Dawn’s transparency now outweighed how visible she was, as she bellowed, “Twilight, please!  There’s no time!!” “But it’s how I work!!” “How are you supposed to write a checklist of what you’re supposed to do before you know what you’re supposed to do!!?  That’s backwards!!!” “But—Dawn, that’s it!!” shouted Twilight.  She dropped the scroll and quill and ran over to Dawn, who now was barely visible at all. “What is??!” “Backwards!” Twilight declared brightly.  “Your magic’s waveform is the reverse of mine!  If I modulate my magic, I should bring you back into phase!” Spike, who just walked through the door, timidly asked, “Why’s everypony so mad??” The image of Dawn was nearly gone as she pleaded, “Please, Twilight, hurry!!” Twilight’s horn charged.  As she focused, the undulation of the aura slowed, reversed, and it changed from a magenta to blue.  As she focused, her spell ray swept across Dawn.  A bright flash washed out the room.  As the light dimmed to normal, they both opened their eyes. Twilight grimaced.  Dawn was easier to see, at least...at half-transparent, and stably so.  Twilight sighed in partial relief.  “Well, at least you’re not fading out any more.” Spike’s face was shocked and twitching.  Dawn’s, however, was vacant except the wide eyes.  She stammered, “M-m-maybe my fading has-as, but-but-but Twi-li-li-light, you’re…!” Twilight’s head jerked backwards.  She trotted over to a mirror, where she nearly fainted.  Spike ran over and propped her up while her head was awash. Recovering from her sharp gasp, in the mirror she saw herself...half-transparent as well.  Twilight blurted, “Well, this is new….” “We’re both half out of phase?” Dawn asked fearfully. “It looks like.” “What do we do now?” Twilight eased herself over to the couch and flopped back down.  She shook her head, and mumbled, “I have no idea.  There’s only a few places that come to mind that might have any kind of suggestion.” “We should try those,” urged Dawn, with Spike nodding emphatically. Twilight smiled sadly.  She stood back up, and went to the scroll she dropped.  With a thin magenta beam she slice off the hasty and incomplete checklist, which disappeared into ash with a flash of flame.  She wrote a short checklist quickly, cut it off, and gave Spike the rest of the scroll. “Spike, send a letter to Princess Celestia,” Twilight ordered. Spike took the quill.  “Of course.” Twilight began her oration. Dear Princess Celestia, I...have a serious problem.  I’ll be teleporting to Canterlot shortly with another, where we will explain it posthaste and face-to-face.  We will need the dimensional orrery; my life and another’s are both in immediate peril.  It is imperative we set to work upon my arrival.  I apologize for any inconvenience this will cause. Sincerely, Princess Twilight Sparkle Spike sent the letter immediately.  Dawn threw her hooves around Twilight.  Both her voice and body were shaking.  “We’ll get through this, Twilight.  We will.  We have too.” Twilight’s person and tone were also quaking as the tears began.  “We’re gonna give it our best, Dawn.  We’ll stick together, and see this through.  I won’t leave you.” “I won’t leave you either,” sobbed Dawn.  The two held the other by the head for a moment, and wiped away their own tears. Spike tapped Twilight on the side, then looked at his finger funny.  She looked at him.  With pleading eyes, he said, “Please let me come too.” “I’m sorry, Spike.  The orrery is a powerful magical device.  I can’t take you in there.  It could seriously disrupt how you grow up,” Twilight answered sadly. Spike looked down, poking his index fingers into each other.  “Oh.  Is it really that dangerous?” “I’m afraid so.  I’d take you if I could; you know that,” Twilight said with forced cheer. “Please hurry back, and intact.” “We’ll try,” she reassured him, before turning toward Dawn.  “Ready to meet Princess Galactia’s counterpart?” Dawn shrugged.  “Ready as I’ll ever be.  We’ll get through this, Twi.  We will.” Twilight sighed, “I hope so, Dawn.  I truly hope so.” The two disappeared in a magenta flash.  Spike hung his head as he walked out of the room, wiping away a tear of his own.