Equestrian Concepts

by Achaian

Chapter Nine: Irregular Logic

Chapter Nine

Irregular Logic

Tick was accustomed to sleeping in the gentle darkness of a starless night. Even the crack of light under the door was enough to wake him in a few minutes time. It was a blissful hour of sweet nothing, lying among the rumpled sheets; at least it had been until Ditzy knocked on his door and requested his presence at breakfast. Then he had been jolted back into present memory. It would be another couple of minutes before he rose from his stupor, but for now he was thinking over his surroundings. He had never really stayed in a house before, at least for any amount of time. While his current residence was about as precarious as possible—Luna could return at any moment—he found that it had a solidity to it, a realness. The care of mother for daughter and the other way around was so thick that it was tangible: he had heard them banter a small bit, play in the early morning hours, and from what he had seen of Dinky he guessed her to be well-nurtured.

Yet the disconsolate darkness in his mind, now ever-present, did not let him rest on the niceties close to him.

Tick had not heard them for some time now, and he guessed that one or both had gone off. In the absence of those distant stimuli, he sank into thoughts of a less pleasant variety. He remembered again Luna’s rage, and he felt the ache again where a rib had been broken. He moved to sit up as he thought, and there was a sharper ache.

It’s not completely healed.

But a comparatively small hurt wasn’t going to tear him from his course. Tick’s thoughts turned to his books, the books that had been found and lost again, the books that held an immeasurable wealth of knowledge… a very dangerous wealth of knowledge. And then Ditzy had touched that knowledge. His thoughts had circled back to his pursuer-turned-host, and the bizarre mingling of the issues only served to keep him farther off his guard.

Why did I even let her in the second time?

The answers came to his frustrated question soon enough: the after-effects of the alcohol, the desperation of the situation, the inability to communicate properly… yet none of that served to satisfy his feeling that he had allowed the curious mare an insight into the issues that now plagued him.

Still, it was reasonable that she had deserved an explanation. She had been insistent. Above all, Tick felt vulnerable before her, as if she had seen straight through him, which she had of course. His thoughts whirled for an unusual while about what she thought of him, what she thought of the melding of the minds, that first time, that first, singular moment that had stripped him bare, if only for an instant. Ditzy could have seen anything in that moment, anything at all.

Tick wanted desperately to know what she had gleaned from that moment.

Wait—why do I care what she saw? I have nothing to hide. Her being touched by the Nightmare… that is something I can hardly blame myself for. In any instance, she seems not to care about it.

Yet his reason rang discordant against the irregular logic of his emotions. He feared her in a way that he found inexplicable, irrational, yet simultaneously he was not afraid of her at all. Ditzy wanted to know more about him, that was plain, and no doubt he had reciprocal curiosity. Restrained, minimal reciprocal curiosity.

The light under the door at last drew his eyes, reflecting as they shifted in his sockets and with the odd internal movements that so fitted his name.

Tick could only move forward.

~~~~~~~~

“It’s good to see you’re up. I was about to make sure were there at all. I should have something ready for us to eat in a minute.”

Ditzy’s measured words received no immediate response as she fiddled with something behind the counter, only rarely and subtly glancing up at Tick to analyze his reaction. She didn’t need to, because Tick remained in the same position, staring blankly at the table.

Take off the mask… I want to see you again.

Ditzy did her best to restrain her desire to talk, to prod. She sat down opposite him at the small table, a couple of pieces of toast laid absentmindedly on a plate. It wasn’t a very large kitchen, but it had suited her and Dinky’s needs adequately.

Tick remained silent, but grabbed some toast and munched silently, consumed in quiet thought.

Why are you so uncertain in my house? Why are you so hesitant around me now? What is it about you and your brother that made you roam for years? Are your parents alive? Do you even know? Why did Quirk leave us behind? How did you get along with Dinky so well, despite barely knowing her? Why don’t you take the time to explain this whole mess with Luna, even if you don’t do a good job?

Why don’t you want to talk about what happened those two times with your eyes?

I barely know you.

Ditzy then realized she had been staring at him, intensely, relentlessly, for several minutes. Tick was visibly more nervous, although he was not prone to acting rashly on such things, and he continued eating. He hid it, but not well enough to escape Ditzy, who always watched other ponies closest of all things.

Tick blinked. Ditzy had only realized her stare when he had looked back at her.

“Um,” Ditzy began, wanting to immediately end the awkward situation, “I figured you’d like to know how to get to the library, since I’m going to be gone most of the day for work. Unless you wanted to go somewhere else…”

She let it trail off, and then went back to her barely-eaten breakfast in a vain attempt to return the conversation to normality. All desire to interrogate Tick drained in the quiet aftermath.

Well, I certainly can’t make better impressions on him.

“That would be best.”

Ditzy nodded curtly, abruptly standing and taking her plate with her back to the counter with the pretense of discarding it.

“I can get there without help.”

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble at all.” Ditzy avoided looking at Tick, keeping the residual awkwardness out of her voice.

“I don’t need the help,” his voice replied, a little edgier.

Be that way, Ditzy wanted to respond in her irritation, but she remained courteously silent. She watched as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, her face calm, her face a mask. In moments, Tick was finished and the front door shut behind him.

The clock moved on around in circles, until half a minute had gone by.

Patience.

Ditzy launched herself out the door on an alternate route to Twilight’s library.

~~~~~~~~~

It was not an uncommon occurrence for the occasional quiet pony to come and go through the outer rooms of Twilight’s library. They would peruse the books, perhaps seek out a particular one, or leave a query for Twilight if they had a certain publication. At times, her friends would visit her, but Twilight’s studious habits usually had them moving any social occurrence to another location. Most visits to the library were unintrusive, unhurried, and quiet.

Ditzy was none of those at the moment.

She strode through the door hastily; had she not thought to grab the door at the last instant it would have slammed against the wall, booming. Tense—quick she looked around the entryway, and in another moment’s time she called out. “Twilight!”

Ditzy’s eyes locked on the door to her friend’s study, and the rapid firing of her thoughts only drove her on faster. Halfway to the door, Twilight opened it.

“Ditzy! I haven’t seen you since you left; how was your vacation? Shouldn’t you be at work by now?”

“That’s not important right now. I need you to do me a favor,” Ditzy said straightaway. Twilight cocked her head curiously, and the agitated pegasus continued without a halt. “There’s a pegasus coming who has been here once before. He can’t know I was here, and I need you to tell me everything that he looks up—”

“Slow down! What’s this all about? Am I spying on him? I don’t think I understand what you want me to do,” Twilight responded carefully. The perceptive librarian examined Ditzy as she looked over her shoulder, tension’s energy clear in her. Twilight had known Ditzy for about two years now, and not all their interactions had been casual. Yet that experience did not afford Twilight a glimpse into Ditzy’s mind besides her strange behavior. Ditzy respects privacy. What’s making her act against that? And is she nervous, and not just energetic? I haven’t seen her nervous since I first met her….

“This is something that’s very important,” Ditzy pressed, eyes straight and direct, locked, unrelenting as she tended to be when she became interested or invested in something. “Tick can’t know, and there’s more to this—”

“But you must, under no circumstances, give her any detail of your mission…”

Ditzy mentally cursed, limitations compiling themselves as time’s barrier weakened.

“—more than I can tell you. He’ll be here any second, and I have to leave.”

“Ditzy, what’s gotten into you?” Twilight paused, puzzled, looking over the frantic mare that now acted so differently from what she had known.

“I’ll explain later, if I can. I need to leave now.” Without further ado, Ditzy dove back out the door and left Twilight in a mess of confusion.

What?

Twilight looked around the doorway, disoriented by the randomness of the encounter. Ditzy had left her a conundrum; not an unexpected thing to Twilight, but she had also left the orderly librarian behind a great mental muddle of hints.

If there was anything to irritate Twilight, it was disorderliness.

She closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head slightly and closing the door.

I trust you, but you always leave me such a mess behind to sort through…

~~~~~~~~~

Twilight stood amongst the books of her library, intimately familiar with not only the physical, but also the mental landscape. Each tome was paper, bindings, ink, but it was also a vast repository, a world of its own. They were stacked and sorted around her, the comforting weight of knowledge granting her a needed pressure and focus for her to concentrate. The mysteries of the world and the mind were by far the ones she found herself enjoying the most often. Yet the most elaborate mysteries were those that came of flesh, fur, and sometimes feathers. She had learned, after all, of the mysteries of those constantly-shifting others, her friends. No doubt she enjoyed and appreciated those just as much.

Twilight had known Ditzy for almost the entirety of her life in Ponyville. By all records, Ditzy was the last one to arrive before Twilight arrived to the cacophony of the summer sun festival. Twilight had proven instrumental in turning Ditzy to her better nature. What resulted for Twilight is that she became Ditzy’s first friend in the town and her only confidante, if only in a limited capacity. She had always been a more reserved pony, in Twilight’s experience, but once she had taken an interest in something she pursued it with vigor.

And so you dive in again. I just wish I knew what you’re trying to do; I really don’t prefer to go about this without his knowledge.

Rifling through one of the many shelves of the library, Twilight’s expression furrowed for a moment at a menagerie of misplaced titles. Sighing, she rearranged a few books and then dropped the venture as her thoughts refused to stray from the one that had experienced so much and told her only small bits of it. The books flowed through her mind without effort, content unimaginable reviewed in an instant until she simply flowed, tore through them, voraciously, yet she still caught everything, every detail. Her mind wrapped up the knowledge in packages, comparing, analyzing, evaluating, and the purity of thought transcended anything Twilight had experienced. On, on to another shelf, another rack of tomes; she dove through the knowledge until her eyes passed the physical realm and she lost herself in ideas, the shape of concepts themselves apparent to her and as clear as day, and they shone with the clarity of life itself.

The manifest ideas played and danced before her eyes, and at her leisure and curiosity she constructed and manipulated them, changed them, sought ever newer thought among the ancient menageries. Knowledge for knowledge’s sake was her credo, and the moments sank away in her contemplative rapture.

It was glorious.

It was what she lived for.

But…

It was not the only thing she lived for.

Slowly, Twilight retracted herself from the phantasm of thought, and her mind returned to her curiously distraught friend. She breathed, and the breath sounded loud and sharp to her in the stillness.

Then a knock on the door ripped her fully out of the flow of the mind.

That must be Ditzy’s… interest. I had better go let him in.

Friend did not seem the right word after how Ditzy had gone about it. Twilight found herself at the door soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~

Tick did not appreciate the parallels of his current visit and the one that seemed so far in the past, but rang so close in his history. He was not free, least of all in his own mind, and so he could not rest.

The door opened wide, and Twilight’s blank face narrowed as she identified Tick.

“You left quite a mess the last time you were here,” Twilight stated.

Tick had no excuse, so he remained silent in his constrained agitation.

The moments passed while Twilight stood, a barrier in the doorway, looking out at Tick. He was on the steps slightly below her. Despite the past annoyances, Twilight found his expression a curious thing: he was anxious to come inside, displeased to have found a confrontation, yet unwilling to speak.

“I’ll let you in if you can make sure you put back in order what you get out.”

“My last visit was an irregularity,” Tick replied, flat, short.

For a few more seconds, the two scrutinized each other. Twilight was almost amused at the spectacle, still wondering what aim Ditzy had; Tick could not notice in his disturbed state, unconventional eyes still locked on Twilight yet failing to discern her retreat from sternness.

“Just make sure you keep things in order. Enjoy your visit,” Twilight said courteously, and she walked off into the recesses of the shelves, leaving the open door and a mildly surprised Tick behind.

Maybe Ditzy did something to irritate him and now she’s trying to make up for it. He doesn’t seem comfortable and he’s definitely agitated. But her own nervousness… there’s definitely a lot of things I don’t know here, a lot of things that I’m going to have to ask her about later.

Twilight glanced back, and she saw that Tick had already dived into another room, intent on finding something.

Most of the books were housed on the lower floor of the library, composed of several rooms layered thickly with shelves freestanding and carved into the walls of the great oak. Twilight had meticulously categorized, organized, and reorganized the sections in her few years there, but she was never quite satisfied with it. Her friends had somehow acquired the irksome habit of putting her in a continuous state of disarray, which she found irksome. Nonetheless, she maintained it excellently, and it was not hard at all to find particular things in the town’s library.

Yet it was not so much finding something as finding something to find that Tick struggled with.

What to even look for first?

The question hounded Tick as he passed through the shelves. Dual desires battled inside him, whether to search for another like him in the vast tomes of yesterday or to find more about his game with Luna, his debate on the nature of knowledge. Yet there was a third desire that he kept in check, that threatened to overturn easily the other two.

The mounting racks of books surrounded him, and he felt for the first time uncertain among them.

I don’t know where to start to find a debate on knowledge. And what would such a gift as mine be labeled, if it has existed before at all? It’s all a matter of terminology, and I know not the words…

Tick grimaced and shut his eyes, and reminded himself that he did not let impulses rule him.

Ever since Luna… but no, it started later than that, this pressure…

Tick heard slight movements, and he shook himself out of his ill reverie.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Caught halfway between a no and a yes, Tick instead opted for silence as he turned. Twilight stood in the archway of the round room of shelves, observing his intransigence.

“No,” Tick finally said, the word emerging from his mouth with a thick reluctance.

“Well, I know this library better than anyone else if you do decide you need to find something. Why are you here, if I may ask?”

Twilight’s casual, friendly tone accompanied her full entrance to the room. She made her away over towards Tick, scanning the shelves as she did. Tick felt an intense suspicion towards her, brought on by his now-chronic mental uncertainty. And that’s perhaps the most loaded question she could ask.

“I had nothing better to do,” Tick replied, staring at a blank spot on the shelf in front of him.

“You don’t live around here, do you? At least, I don’t think I’ve seen you around, except for that one time about a week ago. Are you new here?”

“Leave me.”

“Well, forgive me for letting you use the library after you trashed it a week ago and then asking a few polite questions,” Twilight bit back, her eyes narrowing for a moment of sarcasm.

Tick sighed and bowed his head, still not facing Twilight, sounding more irritated than penitent. “Forgive me. I… have had my share of troubles recently.”

I might as well use her; make use of my time here.

“Let’s start over then. Are you new to town?”

Why do you even care?

Tick shook off his residual annoyance. “I was just passing through town; I’m staying for… a couple days.”

Twilight nodded understandingly, despite the fact that her particular town was quite out of the way compared to the nearby hub of Canterlot. “Are you staying with anyone? Perhaps they could show you around while you’re here; Ponyville isn’t the biggest town, but it has its attractions.”

“I’m staying with Ditzy.”

Twilight’s eyes widened for a moment and rapidly returned to normal. Tick only saw a flash of it out of the corner of his eyes. He looked sideways for an instant at her, his eyes at a slightly quicker tempo than normal, and looked back away, instead skimming the spines of the well-kept tomes.

Ugh… why did I do that, can’t look them in the eye when I’m so worked up, too dangerous.

Yet even that admission of inner tension only strengthened it.

“I know Ditzy,” Twilight blurted out quickly after several quiet moments. She looked as if she might retreat for the next few instants, awkwardly glanced about, and then continued. “I actually know her pretty well. I was one of her first friends here.”

The sudden torrent of memory struck Tick, the thing he had left to escape coming back to him all at once. The melding of minds hissed through his consciousness, and after a long moment of grinding indecision he finally spoke.

“Tell me about her.”

It will be useful to know.

Or at least, that was what he told himself.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ditzy ran her usual route.

Yet her thoughts were unusually focused on other things. Despite the monotony of the route, she ran through it swiftly: not hastily, but surely her concentration was slipping on the edges. There was, after all, quite a lot for her to think about.

After some consideration, she had decided that it would be good for her to ask Twilight about the predicament she was in, despite the delicate dancing she would have to do around the subject. The clandestine expedition that she was now a part of demanded secrecy; the concerns of her home overrode any inhibitions she would have against Twilight accidentally finding out about the matter and incurring Luna’s wrath. Why she had asked Twilight to observe Tick was a multifaceted answer: her worry for her daughter exceeded any emotion she now possessed.

I have to know, I have to know what I’m doing and what I’ve gotten myself into. I can’t leave Dinky alone, if something happens… I know almost nothing about this place I’m going—what I’m actually doing—and the reason I’m stuck with it. They were talking about this Nightmare like it was some sort of threat, but what’s actually happening? I haven’t done anything crazy!

Clouds and flaring light flashed through her mind, and she winced.

I didn’t actually do anything… and that was before I met Tick, so how does this Nightmare thing even make sense? Luna said that we were tainted with knowledge of it, but how… and there was that moment in his mind, but the thing that happened afterwards—strange, so amazing of an instant, and how could either of those be related…

That’s why I need to figure this out, because it doesn’t make any sense to me. Because the sooner I can get these complications out of my life, I can devote all of my time to here, to Dinky.

There was but one neighborhood left for her to deliver to, and then quiet boughs awaited her.

~~~~~~~~~

“Ditzy isn’t one of the stranger ponies I’ve met, but she does have her quirks.”

The inadvertent play on words startled Tick, but Twilight did not notice. She was examining her handiwork of organization as she walked, trying to phrase her words carefully to avoid invoking Ditzy’s sensitivity about her past.

“She hasn’t lived here for too long; I think it’s been a little over two years. To make a long story short, she made a bad impression on a lot of ponies and had to work to reverse it. Further back, she wasn’t particularly lucky in life, but that’s not my story to tell.”

What else could I tell him? Ditzy usually is curious about other ponies and getting to know them, but she tends to be selective in who she’s interested in and what she was acting suggests that there’s something outside of him that’s important. What it could be, though, is completely unknown, and given how Ditzy has acted so far it’s probably something severe…

Twilight glanced at Tick unconsciously, who was waiting patiently.

…where was I going with that?

Having unceremoniously derailed her train of thought, Twilight stood awkwardly for a few more seconds as she regained the thread.

“Er,” Twilight faltered, “did you want to hear anything else about her?”

A strange mask of restraint faced her, holding in some unfulfilled urge. In her social stammer, Twilight didn’t notice the controlled grimace.

“No,” Tick answered. Twilight did catch the odd hardness of his tone, but made nothing of it. “I’m looking for a lexicon.”

“The reference section is down that way, on the left, organized by topic and date,” Twilight replied automatically. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Not really,” Tick replied brusquely, and he vanished down the corridor of tomes.

But how can you go through reference books and not be looking for something specific? Twilight caught the words before they left her mouth. Do you just want to get away from me? That’s a possibility, but I don’t think I did anything to annoy him. Either way, he was quick to run. I hope Ditzy can make sense out of this, because I can’t. Although, she might be interested to know that he asked about her a little. And there’s still this thing that Ditzy said she would ‘explain later,’ the reason she’s asking for this strange favor in the first place…

Twilight sighed, and rubbed a hoof on her forehead. She would figure it out soon enough, she promised herself, but for now she had plenty of her own work. Unfortunately for Tick, he had incurred her interest; and that was something more alike than different between Ditzy and Twilight. The difference was that Twilight held a much more rigorous, scientific view on the matter, and she would not cease observing the secretive and unfavorable Tick until exasperation overcame her.

Twilight nearly let herself retreat to her room, but her eyes narrowed as she looked down the racks of books into the unseen sections of the library.

I really ought to have a right to know what you’re doing in my library.

Technically speaking, it was not ‘her’ library, but she let that minor obstacle slip away as she tread carefully through the rows. Twilight had let him wander for a few minutes in her thought, but it was no race. She knew the library better than any soul that had ever lived, could navigate it blind (as long as it was in her precious order), and could rather sneakily move through it if she wanted.

Twilight crept through the shelves punctuated by windows, the daylight accentuating her need to move without sound. The shelves of the reference section filled the walls; many were freestanding, and she took her time moving, looking behind her, checking for signs that Tick had perused some volume or left it out.

Around the corners she went, and Twilight thought she made not a noise. The silence was exceptional: she could have heard a page rasp at the opposite end of the library.

He has to be in this next row. Process of elimination; he can’t possibly be anywhere else.

Standing parallel to the freestanding shelf, she poked her head around—just enough to glance—her eyes widened; she walked into the spot she could not believe, confused.

How can he not be here? He can’t have gone anywhere else!

She pivoted around, still suspicious, eyes shooting around, and caught something on the very edge—the very top of her vision—

Twilight looked up to the top of the shelf she had been peeking around, and Tick was on top of it.

With a hoof to her face and a grimace, Twilight didn’t quite catch his expression as he spoke. Tunnel vision, argh. How could I not think of that? He’s a pegasus…

“Perhaps I should have been more definite when I said I was not looking for anything in particular. I’m not looking for anything in particular, and anything I might happen to find I’m not inclined to share.”

“It’s only because I let you in, very nicely, that you’re able to look at all,” Twilight bit back, acid in her voice.

“I thought this was a public institution.” Tick kept himself from sounding inflammatory, but it was apparent he would not shy from an argument.

“I’m sure I could find something in the rules about it,” Twilight replied, but she found herself at too much of a loss to continue.

“I could hear you from three rooms away…” Tick muttered, and he dove down the opposite side of the shelf.

Twilight paused, her pride wounded, and after a few moments of undignified silence she turned and left.

~~~~~~~~~

Smarting still, Twilight was returning to her room when she heard a soft knock on the front door, a subtle echo from the other room.

Twilight wandered back to the door, wondering if she would get anything done that strange day.

“You’re off early,” Twilight stated quizzically.

Ditzy’s eyes darted from one end of the room to the other, securing confidence that they were isolated. “I worked quickly.”

Twilight stepped aside to let her in, and they retreated toward the upstairs of the library.

Ditzy’s visits had once been a frequent fixture in Twilight’s life in Ponyville, although they had decreased in number as time went on. When Ditzy was less of an accepted name about town, she had often spent her spare time at her once-sole friend’s library. Twilight had tried to engage her in different interests even as she explored the town, and had found that Ditzy, while intelligent and clever when she wanted to be, was not an academic pony. By Twilight’s evaluation, Ditzy was neither introverted nor extroverted: rather, she was more aligned in the middle. She was not so much focused on thought as on others’ thoughts, and Twilight suspected still that she could find some match among academia for her. That was a dream put on a shelf for now, but as they ascended the stairs Twilight toyed with bringing the idea into her mind’s workshop again.

“Is he still here?”

“He’s downstairs.” Twilight had led her off into one of her studies, the room dominated by a large telescope. Ditzy paced, impatient. It was not something Twilight had seen often out of her: ever since she had become more comfortable in the town, she had not often displayed tension or stress visibly. Ditzy’s eyes wandered about the room insatiably for a few moments, and then locked on her with the familiar penetrating gaze that Twilight knew well.

“What’s he been doing?” Ditzy asked, having expunged most of her anxiousness. Motionless save for the eyes that tracked Twilight, her sudden stillness provided a sign.

She was worked up, or she’s still worked up, and she’s just subverting it for now…

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Twilight shrugged. “In fact, you could probably guess more accurately than I could. He asked a little about you, and then he asked for the reference section and left right away. He was a little rude, to be honest…”

Ditzy’s brows furrowed slightly. “What did he ask about me?” She added under her breath: “why would he ask about me at all?”

“Well, I imagine that’s because he’s staying with you.”

Ditzy, displeased that Twilight had heard her, rubbed her head and muttered something unintelligible.

“What?” Twilight asked, honestly curious. “I just asked if he was new here, and he said he was staying with you.”

“It’s nothing,” Ditzy replied, slightly relieved. “I thought… Nevermind.”

“Thought what?”

Ditzy glared for a moment, but her glower did not dissuade Twilight in the least. “I thought you had mentioned that I was asking about him.”

“Did you really think I would do that after you asked me not to?” Twilight managed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, yet Ditzy was ruffled regardless.

“He just asked about you in general and I responded accordingly,” Twilight volunteered, letting Ditzy’s suspicions slip peaceably away. “It wasn’t much… the whole encounter wasn’t much, actually. We probably didn’t talk longer than three or four minutes.”

The stressed Ditzy, having been calmed somewhat, nonetheless kept her focus sharp. “I need to know what he’s looking for.”

“Well, that will be difficult, unless you want to look over his shoulder as he’s reading.”

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Ditzy muttered, in a way that left Twilight unsure if she was sarcastic or not. She thought for another second. “What exactly did he ask for when you directed him to the reference section?”

“He asked for a lexicon, but—”

“What’s a lexicon?”

“You might get to find out if you don’t interrupt me.”

“Sorry.”

Instead of continuing, Twilight paused. The mare in front of her was impatient, apologetic, insatiably curious, seemingly sarcastic, and persistent. It was altogether a mix that made her awkward in a way that would be amusing in retrospect, but she recognized another emotion. Hidden, behind and beyond it all, fueling the gold eyes.

Ditzy worried.

And Twilight knew well what happened when Ditzy let her worry overtake her, for she was nothing if not a mirror of that process. That was one unfortunate thing they shared, despite their differing interests.

“Before we go any further, I think you need to tell me why all of this is going on.”

Ditzy did not respond.

“Ditzy, I know you better than anypony else does, at least that I know of, and I know that you’re worked up. I know that there’s more to this. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. If—”

“If I could tell you…” Ditzy hissed. She closed her eyes—looked down—walked away a few steps. Twilight, tempered by experience with the sometimes-volatile mare, wisely kept her distance.

I have to be careful. “What’s keeping you from telling me?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Can you tell me anything about it?” What’s wrong with her?

Yet Ditzy could only feel the fury building.

~~~~~~~~~

There was one object in the mind of Ditzy, and it obscured all else.

That blue-black barrier stood straight, unmovable, shutting out all light save for sinister shining slits that composed her eyes. She stood between Ditzy and Twilight. She stood between Ditzy and Tick. She stood between Ditzy and Dinky. She blocked out the sun, a cascade of shadow and frustration.

Yet the rays of the sun cut still through her regardless, and the barrier’s insistence only seemed to strengthen it. And the rays of the sun cut with vengeance, cut with hate. Ditzy felt the blood thump in her veins and the muscle tense, the emotion coalesce into something great and terrible. The rays of the sun cut straight through to her, and the blaze fueled her hate of the darkness. She was blind, blinded by the burning light.

The one object remained, but all she had to do was push it aside…

“Ditzy?”

No.

“Are you alright?”

Breathe.

Ditzy opened her eyes, the shock of the soft light of the room dizzying her. Nearly hyperventilating, she stared at the opposite wall. Twilight, unseen, continued to talk, to pull her out.

I can’t hold on to my anger anymore…

Ditzy turned, eyes barely seeing, breathing heavily, barely able to see the floor. Twilight finally walked over, put a hoof on Ditzy’s shoulder, and reassured her.

“You don’t have to tell me; I know you’re angry and stressed out, but I just want you to know that if there’s anything…”

You have no idea; you don’t know anything about it, but you’re the perfect pony for it, and they insist on keeping you out of it, on keeping me away from her…

“… just tell me and I’ll do my best to help.”

Ditzy’s teeth clenched together, yet eventually she was able to unlock her jaw.

“Thank you.”

Ditzy, stiff, walked out of the quiet library, and found herself minutes later among an avenue nearly as quiet.

Years… I thought, over the course of years, that maybe…

I should have asked what a lexicon is. I’m just missing opportunities left and right; I get a chance and fail through my own faults…

She sighed and shook her head, feeling the dregs of adrenaline drain out of her blood.

My own fault. No pony else to blame. Just have to keep going.

Home was on the distant horizon, and there she knew, at least, what was waiting for her. Respite, a rest, a peace she had earned despite her problems.

This is my home.

~~~~~~~~~

Dinky anticipated her mother’s arrival as she squinted up at a clock high above her, its perch on the wall of the kitchen an infinite distance away. She knew somehow that her mother loathed to leave her alone, and often arranged for her to have things to do in her few hours’ absence each day, but inevitably there were times that Dinky was left alone with nothing but her imagination and a few toys. That was more than enough for her, though. Still, the diminutive Dinky sensed a slight irregularity in the way the clock had ticked on for a few minutes more than the usual.

Yet somehow she knew, and not a minute later she saw her mother approaching and ran to the door. Dinky bounced quietly in place, anticipating, wound like a coiled spring.

The door opened, and the tired mother appeared. Her hair was slightly disheveled; some of her mane lay across an eye; it was plain that she was worn out. She silently watched her daughter with a small smile as she went from energetic bouncing to standing still, grinning widely. The sharp contrast between joy and the almost-sad smile passed them both by without a thought.

“Hello, my love.”

“Hi, mom!”

Ditzy stepped inside, and the warmth of the home enveloped her as she retreated to the kitchen with her daughter, mind wandering between food and her child.

“How was your day?”

“I was going to make something for you, but then I did something else,” Ditzy heard her daughter begin as she rummaged through the pantry.

“Hmm.. What were you going to make me?” There was a moment absent of sound save Ditzy shifting things around in the pantry.

“I didn’t think about that yet.”

“Maybe you should do that first, then.” It was too early for dinner, but she had foregone her lunch in the rush of the day. She wanted the time with her daughter, time with her wonder. The child’s world was perfect, and Ditzy loved her all the more for her imagination. How could she not love her child; innocent and energetic were her bywords. It was peace profound for the mare who had seen too much of the world.

I’ll think of something later or go out… it doesn’t matter.

“So what did you do instead?” Ditzy queried as she gave her daughter her full attention.

“Twilight said that I should read a book, so I tried to read the books on the bookshelf, but they were all really hard.” Slightly downcast, Dinky glanced to the stairs.

“We can go by the library…” Ditzy paused. “In a few days, to get some books for somepony your age,” Ditzy reassured her. “Those books are all books for grown-ups.”

The bookcase referenced was located at the top of the stairs, and was occupied by a small menagerie of books that Twilight had gifted her. There was not a great deal of them: just a few classics that Twilight had thought she would enjoy and a couple of subjects that she had tried to interest Ditzy on. The subjects Ditzy had not taken to, although she had enjoyed some of the classics reasonably. She had not expected her daughter to rifle through them, but Ditzy supposed that even occasional contact with Twilight was enough to inspire vicarious reading. It should have been a good thing—Ditzy heavily encouraged her daughter to do well in school—but the reminder now served to tire her.

After a few moments of silence, Ditzy nodded to herself and Dinky wandered off to play. After minutes of rest, she thought: Now, what do I want to do?

Interacting with her daughter was always her first and foremost option, but she knew well that she was tired and that keeping up with any child’s active imagination was an ambitious endeavor, and she reluctantly consigned that option for a time when she had more energy. It has been a long time since I’ve read something. Maybe there’s something going on in town… being gone a week has its detriments.

The thinking only served to make her realize how weary she was, and the idea of a nap seemed more and more attractive to her. It’s so early in the day for a nap, she objected, yet it had not been that long since her trip had concluded, and her nights then had often been filled with sleeplessness. Oh well. A few hours of getting my sleep back won’t kill me, especially when I can’t do much else.

She was only afforded half an hour of rest until knocks on the door woke her.

~~~~~~~~~

Stumbling over the building blocks her daughter had left in the living room, grumbling lightly to herself and wiping the blurriness out of her eyes; the not-yet-rested Ditzy was sure whoever was outside could have waited a few more hours.

She opened the door to find a soft sheet of rain covering an undisturbed Tick.

Ditzy blinked, and for a moment her thoughts went off on wild tangents. The rain had been coming down in light sheets rather than thunderstorms as the summer had faded into fall, and the clouds casing the sky like a shell had provided her a respite from sunlight during her nap in addition to coating the land in a quiet shadow. Tick was seemingly unaware that he was now sopping wet, and as Ditzy stood, unmoving, thinking, he grew more awkward.

Is he not bothered at all that he’s been walking or flying through the rain and I kept him waiting outside? He looks completely at ease with the fact that he’s soaked, and he must have started out after it started; why wouldn’t he wait a few minutes for it to blow over? I guess he’s used to it, because he wandered for years…

Tick shifted minutely.

Oh, crap, I haven’t let him in.

“Do you want anything to dry off?” Ditzy asked as she stood back while holding open the door.

“Yes.” He sounded tired, or perhaps aggravated. It was difficult to tell. In any case, it was not the rain that bothered him, for he wiped himself off with hardly a care for the gesture when Ditzy brought him a towel. Tick looked keen, eager to be doing something else, but what was unknown. His eyes slipped around and away from Ditzy, avoiding any sort of contact, and her attempts to remedy the quiet were met with deliberate denials.

“Did you manage to entertain yourself in the library?”

Tick looked at her warily, as if the simple question was a barbed spear. “I managed.” He handed back the towel, and Ditzy was careful not to look at him when she asked her next question.

“Were you looking for anything in particular?” Ditzy asked as she folded up the towel.

“… No.”

“Well, it would have been nice to have something to talk about with you. I enjoyed talking, even though I ended up getting wrapped up in all that mess with Luna.”

Abruptly, Ditzy left.

Tick’s gut twisted.

He stood there for a few moments more, mind subverting strange, alien sensations. Tick turned back and found the room Ditzy had assigned him, and shut the door against the light of the house and the startling clarity.

He locked himself in the room, the cell, the cage.

~~~~~~~~~

The rain had since died, but Ditzy’s desire to furnish herself with rest had not ceased. She did not find it: the world conspired to keep her busy and her mind assisted by turning over the events of the day incessantly. The second time she heard a knock outside, her attitude was much less patient and much more disgruntled.

The fact that it was Twilight who had appeared with an air of vague worry did even less to assuage her mood.

Tired and unhappy, Ditzy faced Twilight. Her friend of some years was examining Ditzy, permeating her own caution and worry. There was something wrong, clearly, both of them knew it, yet Twilight could only guess and poke at the matter.

“Ditzy, I’m worried about you. I haven’t seen you act this mad in long enough to make me fear whatever’s happening to you. I know you well enough to see that there’s more about Tick that’s bothering you, because you’re going about it so indirectly. I watched you figuratively bowl over a few ponies just by your sheer interest in them, but this…” Twilight paused, reflected, and Ditzy kept her face of stone and ice.

“I know you were depressed before you left. Everypony who cared knew, but you wouldn’t tell any of us why. Now you’ve come back, and you’re almost acting like your old self at times—your really old self, I mean; before you were friends with anyone.”

Twilight stopped again, and with slight irritation watched as Ditzy’s face changed not at all. Concern swallowed her annoyance, though. She continued, picking her words carefully.

“I could not trust you at all if I wanted to. But I do trust you, Ditzy. I trust all my friends; otherwise they wouldn’t be my friends. I just want what’s best for you, and so if there’s anything at all you can tell me about this…”

The friction of opposing thoughts heated Ditzy’s mind, yet she had already extinguished all ardor that day. Her vision was cast in grey.

Then the urge to tell everything, say it all at once wildly shook her, and Ditzy grimaced and looked away from the friend that cared so much for her, the friend she could only hurt in the moment.

She won’t believe me if I tell her nothing is wrong. She’ll just take it as denial. I can’t tell her about this insanity and the reason why is a mystery!

Twilight watched, wounded. To her, the picture was very clear, unfortunately unambiguous.

For what she saw was a friend that was disgusted at her care.

For what she saw was a friend that mocked her concern.

For what she saw was a friend that was reverting into something of hate.

Quick, all the thoughts of the things she knew about Ditzy had been like when she had first arrived, of the few times that Ditzy had told her of her miserable earlier years, of the sad and regrettable moments she had reverted and struck out against those she thought were tormenting her struck Twilight. Yet Twilight was not so weak, and did not falter at the first impression of how her volatile friend acted.

“Ditzy,” Twilight said firmly, gently, agonizingly, clear yet unsure. “I don’t know what you’re thinking at all. I still want to help you with your problems.” Twilight’s speculation ran rampant, but she had learned enough to keep a handle on her own emotions until she found irrevocable proof.

“There’s nothing in a book that can teach you how to deal with ponies,” Twilight continued, keenly aware of how clichéd she sounded, but finding no other option. “I learned all of that through experience only, and I learned it the hard way more often than not. I’m not going to let you be this way.”

And you’re thinking, but not saying, that it would be for other’s welfare as well as mine…

“I’m sorry about this,” Ditzy replied honestly, yet she found herself unable to face Twilight cleanly. “It’s all been blown out of proportion. It’s really not such an important thing…”

The lie grated her, but she managed to finish.

“… But I really need to know if there was anything in particular Tick found, or was looking for.”

Twilight was silent long enough to make Ditzy wonder if she was now as transparent as the window to the living room had been the first time she had seen into Ditzy’s life.

“I’m glad that it’s not that big of a deal,” Twilight began, measuring her words. “But my response to what Tick was looking for is the same. I really don’t know.”

She knows, Ditzy thought, and the thought was filled with joy and fear, dismay and sickness. She knows I’m a liar.

“Thank you,” Ditzy replied.

Twilight looked at her funny, but did not find words to reply with. She left in silence, and the tension in the air spilled over as Ditzy closed the door.

I can’t live like this…

She back-stepped, staring at the door, seemingly in shock.

I can’t do this to…

Ditzy turned around and the shocked flashes of gold met the fear of the monotone blur.

But her sickness overwhelmed her at that moment, and she passed Tick by entirely, fleeing up the stairs, into the bathroom, and threw up.

I can’t lie to her, after what she’s done for me.

~~~~~~~~~

Tick, though hardly a part of the proceedings, was struck by fear.

In the cage of the room, suffocation had come to possess him. Thoughts of the union haunted his mind, and the failure of his searches compounded his maddening emotions. Yet first—above all—there was what he had heard. Ditzy had been asking about him—but not quite him. It was more than he could have asked for.

It was something he would never have asked for.

The first strands of intrigue he had set when he had touched her mind now swirled around him, and the strands others cast now tangled the web, narrowing around him, threatening to strangle him. Surely it was not so macabre; yet it was, he knew, for Luna remained in the mix, and unknown forces besides. Things had slipped out of his control. His thoughts had slipped into others.

Beyond a doubt, Ditzy was playing games.

Still the fear that he could not name, the fear of her, gripped him. Tick had expelled himself from the cage. There was nothing he could do there and so he did not tolerate himself being there. His drive had barely overtaken his caution.

Tick’s searches had ended in failure, and after a while he had been forced that his efforts in the library had been for naught. While philosophy was a subject that he had some small experience in, the particular type of discussion that he had been seeking eluded him. He had found several lists of unusual and bizarre marks, but there was nothing that mirrored his, nothing that told him what he needed to hear. Yet the search he had subverted had been the most successful. The thought that she might know, that she would be able to give him the key to understanding what had happened between them was insatiable. He had attempted to squander it with the rest of his strange irrational urges of late.

So he had forced himself out of the room, desire and reason agreeing for once that nothing was going to get done alone in there. Unsteady, Tick had not yet decided on a course of action, and then he had heard them; he had heard them talking about him.

Before he could react beyond surprise, it had ended and she had flashed past him, lost in a mess of webbing. Slow seconds passed, and then one thought dominated all.

I need to get out of here.

Tick threw himself out the door, but something stopped him from going far.