Nightmares

by unoservix

Chapter 07: Boundaries

Nightmares
———

Chapter 7: Boundaries

———

Research had phases. At some point in the course of your work, it was almost inevitable to reach the point where you had referenced a particular source so heavily that you no longer actually needed to look at it to know what it said. Its sections had been burned into your mind as if written by lightning. It ceased to offer up new information to you. Its referential use had expired.

Twilight Sparkle had reached that point with the various papers Princess Celestia had given her on how to deal with a Nightmare. She hated reaching this point, because it meant she could no longer fool herself into thinking that she would get something new out of these sources by rereading them again for the thousandth time.

That was the trouble with being a genius. Eventually you got too smart to fool yourself.

So defeated by the ultimately unassailable grip of reason, Twilight shoved aside the pages of the Codex Monstrum that she hadn't given to Trixie—because Trixie didn't really need to know about those spells Twilight was using to keep Nightmare Storm under control—and pondered what to do next. Rainbow Dash was off on weather patrol; Applejack had to help her brother dig up some tree stumps, and keep her sister from trying to help with the dynamiting process; Rarity had a big order to fill at the boutique; Fluttershy was dealing with a veritable epidemic of sniffles at her cottage among the ferret population; and Pinkie Pie...well, Twilight had long since given up trying to guess what Pinkie Pie was doing at any given moment in time.

That meant her options were pretty much reduced to the library. Twilight didn't want to go reshelving and recataloging everything—not with a cranky blue unicorn to look after—and if Spike were left to that task he would just dump everything on the floor and call it the "everything" section. And hanging out with Trixie was, well, that just made her giggle and cringe at the same time.

But thinking of Trixie sparked another thought in Twilight's mind. Their conversation from the night before was still fresh in her memory. The question of Trixie's parents was back in her attention—and as she recalled, their fate was still unresolved. Surely Trixie would appreciate it; the pain that had flashed through her eyes when Twilight had thoughtlessly brought it up was unmistakable. Of course she would appreciate having that gnawing question finally settled once and for all.

Besides, that meant diving into the records of Trixie's past, tossed about between orphanages and essentially raising herself—and teaching herself to do magic. It certainly explained her lackluster performance against the Ursa, at any rate. Hers were the kind of levitation and conjuring spells that pretty much every unicorn with a working horn could do, plus perhaps a few illusion spells thrown in for good measure. But it had been a hodgepodge, undisciplined sort of magic, lacking the careful crafting of a proper education.

And if a sliver of Trixie's past could so easily explain just that about her magic, Twilight eagerly imagined what else it could explain. That was the key to figuring out what made Trixie tick—and once she understood that, it would be child's play to actually start building friendship.

It was perfect! It was genius! There was no way it could go wrong! Fluttershy was coming over soon and Twilight couldn't wait to share her new plan.

———

A few last stitches went by painlessly and Rarity sat back with a satisfied sigh as she examined her work. A breezy sort of summer dress sat on the mannequin before her, largely inspired by the one she'd made—well, "made"—for Twilight for her birthday. Reactions had been favorable in Canterlot after Fancypants' endorsement, anyway, and while the artist in Rarity had loftier aspirations, the sensible business manager knew that the artist wouldn't get very far without resources, and resources tended to cost money.

She sighed again, this time out of just plain tiredness. Eight dresses in three days was certainly within the realm of possibility and no self-respecting clothier would turn down a windfall order like that, but it had kept her burning the midnight oil, even with Spike collecting gems for her and Sweetie Belle out crusading for her cutie mark—which meant someone other than Rarity would have to deal with the ensuing messes. She had earned a break.

And there was still the occasional customer all the same, there for the low-price-if-not-free-of-charge alterations and repairs. The bell at the door rang and Rarity turned around, putting on a cheerful smile. "Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where—" She stopped short at the sight of just who had walked in. "Oh, hello again, Ms....Comet, I believe it was?"

The haughty pink pegasus waved a perfunctory greeting. "Comet, yes." She looked around the boutique with a hint of approval. "Glad to see I'm not the only pony in this town with a taste for fashion."

"Oh, indeed!" agreed Rarity. "I love Ponyville dearly but it certainly can come to be quite a bore when it comes to style and glamour." She glanced out one of the windows in the approximate direction of Sweet Apple Acres. "And some ponies are particularly fashion-averse."

Comet glanced around the shop again and her eyes seemed to hover over one particular chest. Rarity followed her gaze and found that it landed on the gems Spike had collected for her. One of her clients demanded a jewel-encrusted ballroom gown with enough precious stones to dazzle any onlookers under even the dimmest light of the chandelier. Which of course meant Spike had spent the better part of a day clawing up gems, and he came back to the boutique so exhausted that Rarity simply let him keep an armful of them. Never would she understand why he ate them, but it made him happy, and that was good enough.

"Ah, a taste for jewels, hmm?" she asked. "You know, not too many ponies are aware that Ponyville is close to some excellent gemstone grounds. They're practically as common as grains of sand on the beach."

"Are they now," Comet murmured.

"Of course, I understand that they're considerably pricier in other parts of Equestria," Rarity went on, "but I suppose that just makes Ponyville a buyer's market! Wouldn't you agree?"

Comet lifted up one of the gems—a gigantic opal that glittered with every color of the rainbow. "Buyer's market indeed." She set it back down and turned back towards Rarity. "So you make all these dresses yourself?"

"Down to the last stitch! Are you perhaps interested in one? We can discuss it—"

"Not today," Comet said with a small smile, "but I will be back very soon."

———

Twilight Sparkle's ears went flat at the sight of Fluttershy's reaction to her brilliant plan. Maybe brilliant had been too strong a word after all.

"Well, it's not that you're doing the wrong thing," Fluttershy hedged, "it's just, I don't think she's going to like that you're, um—"

"Snooping around in her past?" Twilight sighed. "Digging up dirt? Finding blackmail material? Learning everything I can so I can lord it over her and cackle with evil delight at my superiority?"

Fluttershy blinked. "I-I was going to say 'doing it without her permission.'"

Twilight bonked her head against the table. "How do you even go about making friends with someone who doesn't want to be your friend anyway?" She sighed. "I've told her over and over again that if we don't get rid of that Nightmare we kind of have to, you know, kill her. And I've tried to talk to her about even the stuff she likes, like putting on shows, and she still holds me at arm's length. And I kept Rainbow Dash and Applejack from just beating her to a pulp like they wanted to. What more do I need to do?"

Fluttershy bit her lip. "Um—"

"At this rate we'll never get her fixed," Twilight moaned, "and then we'll have to use the Elements of Harmony and kill her and then I'll be a failure in the princess's eyes—"

"Um, Twilight—"

"—and then she won't trust me with important things like this anymore and then I won't have anyone to talk about magic with and—"

Fluttershy promptly put a hoof over Twilight's mouth and instantly stopped the stream of words.

"Well," she said, "we didn't become your friend by making it a project that had to get done. It just happened."

"I know," Twilight sighed, "and I just can't figure out how to get that to work here."

"But that's the point. You're not supposed to figure out how to make it work. It just does." Fluttershy smiled. "If you want to be her friend, then just be her friend, and she'll come around sooner or later. That's how we made friends with you."

Twilight frowned. "No complex interplay of psychosocial forces?"

"Not at all."

That was the last thing Twilight wanted to hear. Mysterious forces beyond pony comprehension resulting in the emergent property of friendship? It was so frightfully disorganized! She looked back up pleadingly towards Fluttershy. "I don't know. I still think looking into her parents and all that is worth it."

"Well, then you should ask her."

"And what if she says no?"

"Then don't do it." Fluttershy gave Twilight another warm smile. "And don't you worry about a thing, Twilight. We all treated you like you were already our friend when we first met you, because you were already our friend, even if you didn't know it until later. And that's all you need to do to win Trixie over. It just might take her longer to realize it," she glanced upstairs sheepishly, "since, you know, Trixie is kind of cranky."

"'Kind of'?"

"Okay, really cranky." She smiled again and pointed up the stairs. "Speaking of which, I think we ought to go check on the patient now..."

———

Fluttershy, of course, was right. Every rational little neuron in Twilight Sparkle's brain understood that. All the research agreed with her anyways: actually fostering friendship was an intensely complicated process with a bewildering array of variables that no single mind could possibly track, let alone distill into some useful practical theory. That was why the magic inherent to it was so little-studied. Of course she knew that.

That didn't make it any better.

The yellow pegasus had left hours ago after another checkup, and Twilight sat at her desk, books and papers piled up before her, attention occupied by the other thing she'd brought with her from Canterlot—copies of all those records of Trixie's past, or at least the ones Canterlot had offered up. It was scant information and thus Twilight had no more idea of what made Trixie tick than she did before Fluttershy shot down the whole idea, but now there was an infinitely frustrating new complexity added to the whole business—Trixie herself.

Her ribs were healing enough that she could actually breathe fully and move about better, and her legs weren't quite so painful anymore, although she was still laid up and not going anywhere. At the very least, she had been more cooperative with Fluttershy—although that probably had something to do with the Stare—and ever since their conversation last night she hadn't been quite as virulently obnoxious and abrasive. So that was progress, at least.

But that was the problem. Progress. Progress was a thing that you measured. But Twilight simply could not get into Trixie's head and figure out where things stood and what was going on. Was she finally warming up to Twilight, or was this just resignation to the immutable facts of her injury and captivity? Twilight sorely wished that that old pegasus Flicker had left a journal or something about how she'd managed to worm her way through Nightmare Nebula's layers of hatred and bring out the hurting pony underneath. Some guidance would be nice here.

Twilight sighed and glanced across the room at the sleeping Trixie. Fluttershy was right, but she wasn't about to give up the idea that Trixie's past was the key to her present so easily. That was always how it worked. And she needed more than just friendship. Twilight's friends hadn't been trying to save her from a demonic presence that fed off her hatred, and Twilight needed metrics.

She looked down just under the bed, by the nightstand, where the box that had once contained her cloak and hat had been tucked. At the time, Snips and Snails had been under express orders not to open or go through anything, but to simply shove the salvageable stuff off to one side and clean up what was left. And Twilight certainly hadn't gone snooping through Trixie's abandoned belongings. Invasion of privacy, that.

But now it was different. Now her life might be on the line. And if Twilight asked, it wasn't as though Trixie was going to say yes. It had taken that box of stuff and a lot of kindness and patience to just get her to even look at Twilight with anything less than a withering, soul-crushing glare. If she wasn't going to cooperate to save her own life then Twilight would just have to overrule her, and Trixie could just thank her later.

She peered at the box again and cringed. It would be child's play to simply lift it over with a bit of magic, rifle through its contents, take things downstairs, and then slip them back in the next time Trixie was asleep. She would never even know. And anyways, if it helped save her from the Nightmare, wasn't it worth it?

Twilight bit her lip as she thought of Fluttershy's reproachful glare. She thought back to that whole Gabby Gums fiasco, and how hurt her friends had been to have their privacy violated for a few cheap laughs and some newspaper circulation. But this wasn't something so petty. It was life and death. Wasn't that worth it?

The princess's words came back to her, and she screwed her eyes shut and imagined what Trixie would do if she found out—to see things from her perspective. The ensuing images stretched the capacity of Twilight's imagination for violence and rage, but the point was clear. Besides, if something made Trixie that angry, the suppression spell would probably fail, Nightmare Storm would come surging back, they'd have to knock her down and suppress the Nightmare again, and they'd probably just aggravate Trixie's injuries even more—which meant she would be here even longer, and everypony's nerves would get that much more frayed.

And that was that. She looked back at Trixie, heart sinking at the thought that her mind would have to remain a mystery. Mysteries were no fun if you couldn't solve them.

Then again, that was Fluttershy's point, wasn't it? Trixie wasn't a mystery, or a project, or anything else. She was a pony—a pony who needed a friend. And even Twilight could see the flash of pain in Trixie's eyes when she'd had brought up the subject of parents.

And one thing friends did do was take away each other's pain. So perhaps she'd solve a mystery or two after all. It would just have to wait until Trixie woke up.

———

"Oh, Dashie, don't be silly!" chirped Pinkie Pie. "It takes a lot more than that to offend old Auntie Pinkie Pie!"

Perched on Applejack's wagon as the orange earth pony rolled it around the farm, Rainbow Dash stared skeptically at the pink pony bouncing alongside it. "I guess," she said, "but don't go asking me to go make nice with her. You know I'd kick her teeth in or something."

Pinkie gasped in disbelief. "But that would be mean!"

"Yeah, well, so's she," Applejack added with a grunt. "Now would ya mind gettin' off my wagon? Hard enough luggin' it around without a bunch'a dead weight in the back."

"Well just for that I'm think I'm gonna have to get even comfier," Rainbow shot back, and settled herself down against the side wall with a melodramatic yawn.

Applejack rolled her eyes, then kicked the wagon hitch hard enough to tilt the whole wagon back—and Rainbow Dash slid out with a yelp and landed in the dirt with a crash.

"Thank ya kindly," she said with a tip of her hat, then hitched herself up and marched off over the fields.

"Jeez, what's gotten into her?" grumbled Rainbow as she dusted herself off and got back up. Pinkie shrugged.

"I dunno! Hey, let's go see if Trixie and Twilight have driven each other nuts yet!"

"Twilight's already nuts. I'd be more worried about Spike if I were you." Rainbow grimaced at the mere thought of actually having to live with those two. "'sides, Twilight was nuts to want to do this in the first place."

Pinkie's preternatural smile disappeared for a moment. "You still won't forgive Trixie for the whole rainbow tornado whatever thing she did to you?"

"Oh, no, I'm pretty much over that," Rainbow scowled, "although I certainly won't let her forget it, but," she sighed and her ears went flat, "I dunno. The whole 'trying to kill one of my friends' thing, y'know? Sort of enormously not cool."

"Oh right, that."

"Yeah. You can make fun of me and all, I can survive that. But threatening one of my friends? Look the heck out." She kicked idly at the dirt. "And it doesn't help that she was totally a gigantic jerk anyways."

Pinkie was uncharacteristically silent and thoughtful for a moment, but just as Rainbow Dash started to get unnerved she returned to her bubbly self. "Well! If Trixie was really that bad all the time Twilight would've probably just gotten us all to get the Elements and explodiate her! But Trixie hasn't been reduced to a pile of ashes yet, so she can't be that bad."

Rainbow considered that for a moment. "I guess. But still," she cringed at the very thought, "what if it works and they do become friends? Then we'd have to be friends with Trixie too."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't wanna be friends with someone like her."

Pinkie was silent again, much to Rainbow Dash's moderate unease. "You know," she said after a moment's pause, "if Trixie is like that to everypony, she probably doesn't have any friends."

"Wouldn't shock me," Rainbow snorted.

"But that would be awful!" Pinkie exclaimed. "Imagine if you had no friends, Dashie! No one to watch your stunts, no one to go cheer for you at the Junior Flyers Competition, no one to come see you when you break your wing and have to stay in the hospital, no one to have to be there for—oh my gosh that would be horrible! No wonder she's such a meaniehead!"

Rainbow Dash cringed. When it was put like that it kind of did make sense why Trixie was such a jerk—a self-fulfilling prophecy, as eggheads like Twilight might like to call it. "Well, still," Rainbow sputtered, "if she wants friends she's gonna have to be nicer to everypony."

"If you say so," sang Pinkie.

Rainbow pouted as Pinkie got distracted by a butterfly or something. Of course she said so. Because it wasn't just the way Trixie made her look stupid in front of the whole town. It wasn't just the thought of having to be friends with her. It wasn't even just the part where Trixie had this murderous evil demon thing inside her that still wanted to kill Twilight—although that really didn't help.

No, the real problem was this sickening, indistinct, fuzzy feeling that something very big was about to change. It was frustrating. Maddening, even. It made no sense. She couldn't point to anything that explained it; after all, it wasn't like anyone really wanted Trixie hanging around any longer than it took to get the Nightmare out of her. And seeing as how she'd been run out of this town the last time she'd been here, she probably wouldn't even want to stay. Yet the feeling remained, and it wouldn't go away.

Rainbow got back up with a sigh and headed off after Pinkie. The worst part of it all was how she was totally on her own with it—because really, how could you ask for help when you don't know what the problem is?

Stupid feelings.

———

At heart, Spike was really a simple soul. He liked food. He liked games. He liked his friends. He liked Twilight. He really liked Rarity. He was a creature of simple tastes. It wasn't his fault that his simple tastes happened to involve what the creatures around him considered precious stones, possibly worth vast sums of money in some parts of Equestria. At heart he just liked to eat, and it was the outside world that made everything so complicated.

Of course, simple as he was, Spike wasn't completely hopeless. He'd picked up a sliver of common sense at Canterlot as Twilight's assistant, and even if she never left the library or socialized with anyone, at least he did. In the end he knew he was a bit bumbling and goofy—but only a bit, and besides, everypony had their faults.

And so, taken altogether, it was not entirely lost on Spike that Twilight Sparkle had fixed some harebrained idea in her head and that was at the root of this whole episode with Trixie. The mystery was what its real nature was.

On the other hoof, Spike was not completely unperceptive. Well aware of how much this all seemed to mean to Twilight, he decided that if he could get along with the likes of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie—who could be trying in their own ways—he could at least give Trixie a shot. And if she got too difficult he could just light her mane on fire or something and that would take care of that. And so, as Spike collected the dishes from Trixie's lunch and glanced up at the cranky blue unicorn, he decided that it was time for something of an experiment.

Naturally, Trixie struck first. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Well hello to you too," Spike answered with an arched eyebrow.

Trixie pursed her lips and then dug a sheaf of papers out from under her pillow. "By the way," she said, with only as much politeness as was necessary, "you can give these back to the bookworm."

Spike took the papers and glanced over them. "She gave you pages from the Codex?"

"Hmph. Decided to assign me some reading instead of a lecture."

"Oh, well, count yourself lucky, then. Usually she does both."

Trixie cringed at the thought and Spike didn't blame her in the least. He'd sat through more than one Twilight Sparkle discourse, followed and often also preceded by required reading, which Twilight expected her assistant to understand well enough to help her hunt things down in the library. It was no fun to be trapped in one of Twilight's scholarly crusades, even for someone who was pretty much used to the whole "research assistant" gig by now.

He flipped through the pages again. "So why'd she have you read this stuff anyway?"

"So I'd 'understand the gravity of the situation perfectly well,'" sneered Trixie. "As if I'm somehow unaware of my present circumstances or something."

Spike blinked. "Well, you don't seem too bothered to have an evil shade of doom fueled by hatred and powered by the dark forces running around inside you." He shrugged. "Plus there's that whole 'trying to kill Twilight' thing. Makes a bad impression, y'know?"

Trixie scowled. "If I'd known it was going to leave me broken and trapped in her home," she mumbled, "I never would have said yes."

Again Spike blinked. "Said yes?"

"You don't think I just conjured this power up myself, do you?" Trixie asked, with a bitter glance down at the diminutive dragon. "And all for nothing."

Spike frowned and decided that he would tell Twilight about this later instead of pressing it now. "So," he went on awkwardly, "now you've felt the wrath of Twilight Sparkle the obsessive-compulsive reader."

Trixie eyed him carefully. "Your point being...?"

"Oh, not much, just that I've been there too." He waved a hand dismissively. "One time she became totally engrossed in this species of guppy in the river out on the outskirts of the town. And it wasn't even an interesting species of guppy. It just did fish stuff." He grimaced as the horrible memories resurfaced of spending entire days out there with little nets and jars of water, trying to capture live specimens because Twilight told him to, and long nights of cataloging the intensely boring feeding, schooling, and reproductive habits of an intensely boring fish. "Never seen anything more dull in my life."

Trixie stared skeptically at him. "Guppies."

"I can get you the research notes if you don't believe me."

That didn't appear to help. Instead Trixie cast a vaguely horrified look about the room. "So I'm trapped by the same pony who humiliated me here and also apparently has an obsession with boring things. Wonderful."

Spike frowned. "Well, yeah, but it's not that bad. After all, once Twilight gets all obsessed about something, if there's an answer, she will find it. Guaranteed. Like, say," he shrugged, "the question of whether or not we can get this Nightmare outta you before we have to break out the Elements."

"So now I'm the guppies in her crazy little mind?"

"No. Saving you is the guppies. You," he shrugged, "you're just you."

Trixie went silent and Spike decided that that was probably all the conversation he would get out of her for the day.

And at any rate, as he took the dishes back to the kitchen, even he had to wonder about Twilight and Trixie and projects and guppies and the weird metaphorical relation between them all. Even for Twilight Sparkle, there was a limit to how far she could push her research. After all, the guppies didn't change; the only thing that changed was Twilight's knowledge about them. And once that knowledge got as far as it could go, Twilight's interest shifted to something else.

But what about a pony? Ponies were way more complicated than guppies. And Spike could only imagine what mental contortions Twilight was going through right now, trying to figure out this irritating blue unicorn. And there were no nets and jars of water for Spike to collect live specimens this time. She was on her own.

And Spike wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

———

"The parade of talkative visitors has no end, does it?" sneered the Great, the Powerful, and the apparently very cranky Trixie as Twilight Sparkle stopped upstairs. The sun was on its way towards the western horizon now and Spike was downstairs preparing dinner. There were all kinds of questions swirling in Twilight's head—not least that portentous remark about "saying yes" to something in regards to the Nightmare that Spike had picked up and promptly told her all about—but right now there was only one that was on her lips.

"I have a question," she said. "It's important."

Trixie stared back for a moment. "Okay...?"

"You said you don't know what happened to your parents. So I'm offering to find out. I've got connections and resources, so if anyone can figure it out, it's me."

Trixie's confusion was promptly replaced with offense. "You think I want you meddling in my personal affairs?"

"Trixie, I saw the way you reacted when I brought up the subject of parents. And I want to help. Will you let me?" She frowned. "I won't do anything if you say no, but remember that I've got a line to the princess herself, and I know how to research stuff like this. And," she took a step closer and ignored the way Trixie's glare got just a little harsher, "well, it's what I'd do for any of my friends."

For a moment, Trixie's eyes flickered with emotions, before they settled on revulsion. "And since when were you my friend?"

"Since I stopped everyone from just incinerating you with the Elements of Harmony," Twilight said.

Trixie turned her bitter gaze towards the wall. "You keep hanging that over my head," she sneered. "Every time I don't go along with your latest harebrained scheme you threaten to pull out the Elements of Harmony and wipe me out. And now you have the gall to come here and tell me that you're my friend and you just want to help me?"

"It's not like that—"

"Isn't it?" She waved a hoof contemptuously at her surroundings. "You took away my power, you broke my body, and now you've got me trapped here treating me as a science project. Why should I trust you with something so important as the secrets of my past? Things not even I know? What if I say no—will you drag out the Elements and threaten me until I agree?"

"Of course not! Trixie, all along we've been trying to help you!"

"Then I would find it infinitely helpful if you'd shut up and leave me alone." And with that, Trixie turned over.

Twilight fought back the tears welling up in her eyes. Threatening her and treating her like a science project—of course not! Hadn't she just mentally wrestled all those doubts to the ground? She looked back at the brooding unicorn and wondered how she could be a friend to someone who didn't even want friends.

Even at that thought, the irony was inescapable and she had to smile bitterly. Doomed to try to make friends with herself. Who said the universe had no sense of humor?

"Trixie," she said quietly, "I can find out. I saw how you reacted when I mentioned your parents. I'm not doing this to hurt you. You're already hurting, and," she shuffled her hooves, "and I want to make it better. Because that's what friends do." She put a hoof on Trixie's shoulder and ignored the way she flinched. "Is that okay?"

Trixie looked over her shoulder—and for a moment her look softened, before she turned around again.

"I'll think about it," she mumbled back.

Twilight smiled and left it at that.

Later that night, as Twilight headed off for bed, she locked eyes with Trixie for a moment—and gone was the typical animosity, replaced by a sort of muted curiosity and resignation.

"The orphanage told me their names were Starstreak and Shimmer Lulamoon," Trixie said quietly.

Twilight stopped short. "E-Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Trixie looked back up with another glower, although even surly Trixie didn't seem to have her heart in this one. "I might as well, if Miss Connected-to-the-Princess is offering to put all those resources to use for my benefit at no cost. Right?"

Twilight smiled. "Right. I'll find out."

"You promise?"

"I promise, Trixie."

She bade Trixie good night and then rushed off to find Spike—because, after all, he had a letter to write.

———

It was infinitely convenient living with a baby dragon whose enchanted fiery breath constituted a direct line of communication to one of the two undisputed rulers of all Equestria. Twilight Sparkle had seen how messages to the princess that didn't go through a dragon's lungs worked; she still wasn't sure she'd ever seen that much paperwork piled up anywhere else.

As usual, Princess Celestia's response came with the dawn—much to Twilight's delight and Spike's annoyance, since coughing up a scroll was not a fun way to start the morning. The actual content of that response was slightly less delightful. Princess Celestia could not spare any staff to go combing the archives in Canterlot for news on Trixie's parents, so Twilight Sparkle, researcher and bookworm extraordinaire, would have to take on that daunting task herself. At the very least, the princess had agreed with Twilight's rationale once she explained it.

But this posed a problem. Twilight would have to spend at least a day in Canterlot, maybe more, and that meant leaving Trixie alone with everyone else. And that was something of a dodgy proposition.

Trixie and Spike seemed to be settling into some kind of mutual nonaggression pact. That wasn't exactly friendship, but it was probably good enough. Rainbow Dash and Applejack refused to have anything to do with her. Rarity kept her distance. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were the only ones who came by with any regularity, and even the former stepped a little gingerly around the cranky blue unicorn—which meant Fluttershy was the only one of Twilight's friends with which Trixie seemed to have any decent relationship. And Twilight had a half-formed theory that it was actually metaphysically impossible to not like Fluttershy, so that wasn't exactly a great achievement.

And so Twilight was out getting an early start on the weekly shopping, while Spike held down the fort back at the library, and she had the added task of figuring out how she would break this to her friends. It seemed like ages since she had seen some of them. And so it was that she felt that inexplicable bolt of suspicion rush up her spine as she caught sight of a familiar chestnut-colored pegasus strolling through the market and contentedly munching on a sunflower sandwich.

"Seesaw!" she exclaimed, just as the pegasus caught sight of her.

"Well well, if it isn't Twilight Sparkle," he answered with a smile. "Crossing paths more frequently these days, aren't we?"

"I guess so!" Twilight cringed. She hated small talk.

"Although I'm afraid I won't be around here for the next few days," Seesaw went on with a frown, "as business will take me back to Canterlot. I'm sure you understand."

"Canterlot, huh," Twilight said, "maybe I'll run into you there too."

"You're going back there too?"

Twilight shuffled her hooves. If knowing that she had fans cheering her on, albeit for vague and ill-defined reasons, would help Trixie beat back the Nightmare, then so be it. "Well, you're always asking about Trixie, so I figured you deserve to know. She's got an illness right now, unicorn stuff," she tapped her hoof for emphasis, "and Princess Celestia has asked me to help research treatments. So I need to get back to Canterlot soon and look through the archives there."

Seesaw put a hoof to his chin, deep in thought. "Interesting. And how is her prognosis?"

"Oh, she'll be fine," Twilight added, feeling dumb for having not said so earlier, "it's just, well, student of the princess, have to keep up with these things. But," she smiled, "I'll let her know you're rooting for her!"

"Indeed," Seesaw agreed, with a smile of his own. "I'm sure there are many who are."

———

"I'll only be gone for a day," Twilight said with a happy wave of her hoof. "Two at the very most. You forget, if there's one thing I'm ridiculously good at, it's high-speed research."

Gathered around the library's table, Applejack and Fluttershy shared a skeptical look. "If ya say so," Applejack said, "but are you sure leavin' Trixie alone is a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. I have the suppression spell down pat, Trixie spends most of the day sleeping or pouting anyways, and Fluttershy and Spike can totally take care of things while I'm gone. Right Fluttershy?"

"U-Um, sure," Fluttershy squeaked.

"Anyways, it's really important that I do this," Twilight went on. "I promised her I'd find out what happened to her parents, and I'm sure you guys understand how important that is." She sat back with a sigh. "Maybe this will finally get rid of the Nightmare too. I mean, how could she still hate me if I go all the way to Canterlot and dig through the archives and give her the answer to this question she's got that's eating her up inside?"

"Uh, right," Applejack said.

"A-Are you sure Trixie really wants you to do this?" Fluttershy asked.

"Of course! She said so herself!" Twilight shook her head. "Anyways, this is probably the best chance I've got for actually getting into her good graces. Her parents mean a lot to her and when I go to Canterlot and find out what happened to them, that'll prove that I'm serious about being her friend!" She giggled with delight and clapped her hooves.

Applejack and Fluttershy exchanged a very nervous glance. "O...kay then, Twi," Applejack said was gently as possible, "ah guess if yer heart's set on this, ain't no way we can talk ya out of it. But just don't take too long up there, ya hear?"

"Applejack, please," Twilight laughed, "you forget who you're talking to!"

———

Just because she had a guest that happened to contain a vicious specter of darkness, and just because she had a train to catch early the next morning, were no reasons for Twilight Sparkle to stop studying. Nothing could stop Twilight Sparkle from studying.

Trixie was fast asleep as Twilight sat at her desk and went over the spell one more time. Rarity had amply demonstrated the limitations of the butterfly wing spell, but that was no reason not to keep trying it, perfecting it. The hardest part had been weaving together all those swirling strands of magic, in imitation of the microscopic scales and structures of a real butterfly wing; after that, it was a simple conjuring spell, taking a magical construct and imputing it into physical reality. Easy.

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. The currents of magic twisted in her grasp, but that was no obstacle to Twilight Sparkle; she tightened her hold as each node of light settled into place. The resistance melted away as the structure took shape. Twilight opened her eyes with a contented smile as she felt the magical lattice solidify, from an ethereal cloud of light into the shimmering gossamer it was supposed to be.

"What the heck is that?"

Twilight yelped in surprise and whipped around, to find Trixie wide awake and staring in disbelief—and at that, Twilight sheepishly realized that the spell had actually worked and now she had a set of huge, brilliant butterfly wings stretching off her back.

She pawed at the floor. "Oh, um, hi Trixie—"

"That's not answering my question," Trixie snapped, and she pointed at the wings. "Where on earth did you get those?"

"Oh, um, there's this spell—" Twilight stopped short and mentally kicked herself. She wanted to talk about the intricacies of the spell behind these things, but fate had seen fit to foist upon her a guest who was unable to do any magic—and even Twilight knew better than to go blathering about it anyway. "Well, uh..."

"A spell."

"Y-Yes—"

"How did you do it?"

Twilight cringed. "A-Are you sure you want to talk about magic—"

Trixie glared back. "You have absolutely no idea what a great addition that spell would be to my shows. Just imagine, if I can sprout a set of beautiful butterfly wings and soar over my audience..." She shook her head. "Anyways, I want that spell."

"I-If you say so." Twilight levitated the spell book over to Trixie's bed. "It's like a conjuring spell, but you have to set up the structure first, and it has to resemble an actual butterfly wing, like this," she pointed at a diagram on the page, "and after that it's just conjuring."

Trixie frowned. "Show me."

A moment later, Twilight found herself suspending a small rock in front of Trixie, with shimmering bands of magic swirling around its surface. She squeezed her eyes shut and locked the last scales into place, and then pulled its structure from the ethereal to the real—and then she opened her eyes again and looked down at Trixie, staring in wonder at the winged rock. Twilight frowned and idly hoped that this wasn't some kind of abomination against nature—but before she could do anything else, the wings promptly fluttered once and then vanished in a cloud of light.

Trixie looked up at Twilight with an inquisitively-arched eyebrow. "And that was...?"

"Oh, sorry," Twilight said, "there's some, um, limitations to the spell. The wings are sensitive to sunlight, so if you were to fly too high or spend too long in the sun they'll evaporate." She glanced down at the rock again and frowned thoughtfully. "And I guess they don't last very long when they're attached to a rock." Twilight turned the book around and peered down at the page. "That's weird, you should be able to attach wings to a rock. Unless the wings require some kind of direct connection to a living thing to sustain themselves, and rocks aren't living things—but I had a magical connection going so it should have worked—unless—"

The purple unicorn looked back up with a hint of blush as she met Trixie's incredulous stare. "Um," said the blue unicorn, "alright then."

"S-Sorry, I was just, um, thinking about the spell, you know, and—"

"Right, whatever," Trixie said, and yanked the book away. Twilight stepped back and watched her start to read.

"Err, well, enjoy," she said nervously, and then slinked away.

———

It all started with a crash.

Rarity snapped awake. It was the middle of the night—2:30, said the clock—and if she was asleep, undoubtedly so were Sweetie Belle and Opal. That left only one possibility: a break-in.

It was not inconceivable that Carousel Boutique might be the target of thieves, where it was an open secret that Rarity made a fair bit of coin with her clothier business and occasionally got some very high-profile customers. But if someone wanted to rob her store, well, they would have to deal with her first. She shook out her curlers and rushed for the stairs.

Rarity landed with a thump and immediately lit up her horn with the brightest illumination spell she could muster. The room lit up like a bright summer's day and she caught some movement off to the side—right next to her gem chest. Something darted out from behind the chest, jewels spilling after it.

"Stop right there!" Rarity cried, and sent an empty mannequin crashing into the object. It shook its head, vaulted forward, and went crashing through the window.

Sweetie Belle came bounding down the stairs. "What was that?!"

"Go back to your room, dear," Rarity said quickly, "and don't come out until I say so!" She rushed to the window and scanned the area—but there was nothing there. Just broken glass, a couple of fallen gems, and—a feather?

Rarity lifted it up and held it under the light. A pink feather—so whoever had done this was a pegasus. She looked back to her gem chest and her heart sank at the sight of roughly a third of its contents scooped out. That was discouraging—poor Spike's efforts had been wasted—but she could find more gems. And she could fix the window.

Instead, a knot of anger bubbled up from her heart. Who would dare violate the sanctity of her home and steal her belongings? She looked around frantically at the rest of the damage. Nothing else appeared to be out of place, but the door had been pried open—and the lock had been cut in half. Obviously she would have to get a better one. A pair of bolt cutters sat in the doorway—the tool with which this vile deed had undoubtedly been started.

A clack of hooves sounded outside and Rarity turned to find Rainbow Dash shoving her way inside. "Rarity! I heard a crash, are you okay?!"

Rarity glanced around her home one more time and sighed. "Yes, darling, I'm fine. But someone broke in here and stole a bunch of my gems!"

Rainbow looked around herself. "Gems? Just the gems?"

"So it seems." Her safe was upstairs, so if the thief had gone after that, they would've had to break into her room. The finished dresses she'd left on their mannequins were undisturbed. Someone just wanted gems—although perhaps she'd caught them early enough that gems were all they had time to take. "And," she added, and lifted up the wayward feather, "I found this."

Rainbow frowned at the pale pink feather floating amid a shimmering blue field of magic. "Hmm. There's a lot of pegasi with pink feathers in Ponyville."

"Indeed." She looked over the feather herself. "I caught the perpetrator in the act, but I couldn't get a good look at them before they bolted out the window. I did hit them with a mannequin, though."

"A-A mannequin?" Rainbow stuttered, and looked towards the window, where sure enough an overturned mannequin lay. "Wow, holy horse apples, nice goin' Rar'!"

"Thank you, darling." She fluffed her mane for a moment. "Unfortunately, the feather here is all I managed to get, and there's a pair of bolt cutters by the door if that helps."

Rainbow sat down with a sigh. "Jeez, this is weird. Like that robbery in Canterlot that Pinkie and I ran into..."

Rarity blinked. "Robbery?"

"Some pegasus pony robbed a jeweler's in Canterlot. Said she just swiped a bunch of gems and took off like a shot out the window, and she was gone so fast nobody got a good look at her." She frowned, thoughts deepening. "And now the same thing happening in Ponyville..."

The white unicorn sighed and put her mannequin right side up again. "I suppose in the morning I'll need to report this to the Town Hall. And," she cringed at the thought of it, "I'll have to have that window replaced too. What a mess."

"You want me to stay here and keep you company?" Rainbow asked. Rarity shook her head.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, thank you," she pawed at the broken glass on the floor, "I'll just have to clean this up before Sweetie Belle or Opal gets to it." She tucked the feather away on her desk. Work to do to restore her shop to its former pristine state, yes—and then to find out who did this.

———

"Idiot," hissed Lapis Lazuli, as she sent Comet flying into a tree with a blast of magic. Gems scattered everywhere and the pink pegasus slid to the ground with a whimper.

"Look at them!" she wailed back. "That opal is the size of a tangerine! How was I supposed to just leave them there?!"

"Quite easily," snapped Lazuli, advancing threateningly on the cowering Comet. "What if you were caught? What if you left evidence that leads back to us? What if somepony recognizes you? What if they call in the Royal Guard to investigate? You have jeopardized our entire plan!" Her horn lit up with glimmering red fury. "You are a liability now, Comet, and I have ways of dealing with liabilities—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm the heck down there, Lazzie."

All eyes turned as the trees parted and the familiar form of that black stallion with the fiery mane stepped into view. Lazuli's horn went dark and she immediately stepped aside, head bowed.

"Master, we specifically told them not to steal things and she did it anyway," she protested. "It was a completely unacceptable risk—"

"Yes, yes, as you've made abundantly clear," the stallion said, and took in the entire chastened group with a sweep of his wings and a plume of flame. "All well and good, but I've got a bit of a new job for you folks. See, it's come to my attention that our good friend Twilight Sparkle is going to Canterlot soon, and all on her lonesome, at that. And I think it would be a good idea if we were there too, in order to properly welcome her." He grinned. "Whaddya say?"

"In Canterlot?" Barbell grumbled. "Robberies and pickpocketing is one thing, boss, but this? Under the princess's nose, with all the Royal Guards everywhere?"

"And you did say she's a magical phenom," Razor Edge added with a frown. "Are you sure about this?"

"Friends, friends," laughed the stallion, "yes, I know, she's big and scary and she's got the Element of Magic and all that. She still doesn't know about me, and lest you forget..."

Flames burst out of the ground and lashed up around the trees. All six ponies huddled together in terror as the fires roared towards the sky and showered them all with smoldering debris. In the center of it all stood the black stallion, flames swirling around him, crimson eyes glittering with delight.

"I'm no Trixie," he said.

All of Everfree shuddered to hear him laugh.

———

The room glittered with moonlight diffused through the translucent butterfly wings still stretching off Twilight Sparkle's back. Trixie stared in wonder, having evidently even forgotten to show outright hate, and Twilight idly wondered if these things had some kind of pheromones or something that were taking the edge off of Trixie's typical crankiness. The blue unicorn blinked as Twilight fluttered her wings and bathed the room in dizzying, whirling light.

"They're beautiful," she murmured. "How in the world did you stumble upon this spell?"

Twilight nodded to the book in Trixie's lap. "My friends and I wanted to head up to Cloudsdale to watch Rainbow Dash in a flying competition, and I tried using this as a way of getting us all up there." She cringed at the memory of Rarity plummeting to statistically very likely doom. "Lessons were learned. But, Rainbow Dash did pull off a Sonic Rainboom to save the day, so it all worked out in the end."

Trixie kept her eyes fixed on Twilight's wings. "Those would make my shows absolutely magnificent."

"Well, it's a tough spell to perform—"

"Are you saying I can't do it?"

Twilight winced as the crankiness returned. Maybe there weren't any pheromones at work here. "N-No, just, it's hard to do," she said, "like the fireworks spells—"

"Ha! Those are mere foal's play to the incomparable magic talents of the Great and Powerful Trixie!"

Twilight tried not to roll her eyes. "Right, well," she put on a smile, "if you want, once we get this whole Nightmare thing settled I can teach you this spell. And others! I know a bunch. It'll be great, I promise."

That evidently brought the gears in Trixie's brain screeching to a halt. "W-What?" The look of outrage returned and Twilight held back a sigh. "Listen, I told you I wanted this spell to improve my shows. I didn't say we were friends or something."

Twilight thought back to what Fluttershy said, and lifted the book out of Trixie's lap. "I think we already are," she said with a smile, and she turned to another page. "Ooh, here's a good one. The music spell, the one I used to draw a lullaby out of the cattails. How would you like your show to have a soundtrack?"

Trixie stared back skeptically.

"Look," Twilight went on, "I'll show you." And at that, she closed her eyes, reached back into her memory, and then reached out into the world with the arms of magic to draw its music to the surface. A lilting melody drifted through the window from the trees outside; Trixie blinked in surprise as its soft notes reached her ears.

"H-How did you do that?"

"It's all in the book." Twilight smiled sheepishly. "And, um, when you're back to normal, I can show you."

The blue unicorn looked back dubiously at the spell book in her lap. "Are you saying my show was boring or something?"

"No! No, I'm just, well, guessing you wouldn't mind adding new stuff to it, right?" Twilight shrugged nervously. "It's just, well, I...you know, thought you might enjoy knowing new spells. Like me."

Trixie stared back for a moment, and then looked back down at the book and pointed at the page. "What about that one?"

Twilight followed her gaze. "Ooh, the transmutation spell. Here, I'll show you, I'll turn an apple into an orange..."

———

The sun had long since set and this was the time of Princess Luna's dominion over Equestria. The nature of the night had changed since her banishment. Ponies could stay up late enough to appreciate the artistry of her constellations and the breathtaking vistas of her night skies. But the night, without the blinding glare of the sun to throw everything into clear relief, was also a time of thieves and scheming and corruption. Those with dark intent preferred the night—the better to hide their deeds.

Princess Luna did not mind. After all, that made for a new role for the princess of the night: that of the watchful guardian, who kept the peace and protected the world while everyone slept. Crime had edged upward when Celestia could rely on only herself to raise and lower the sun and moon together, and the Royal Guard had stemmed the tide, but nothing quite matched the comforting knowledge to Equestria's citizens—and the unnerving fear for its criminals—that another set of immortal eyes kept watch over the kingdom as it slept. The night was not as safe for evil anymore. It was a role Princess Luna figured she could get used to. It was better, anyways, than making constellations that no one else would see.

But who watched the watchers? For a thousand years, Celestia had borne twice the burdens all on her own, and Luna still felt a stab of guilt at the thought of that. With the guilt came a bolt of annoyance, at the thought of her sister raising and lowering the moon—commanding that which was rightfully hers. Then again, Luna and Nightmare Moon—and the Elements of Harmony—had left her no choice.

And so it was that Luna felt a strange mixture of guilt and anger as she looked down over slumbering Canterlot and pondered her work for the evening. Before the war, it had been the bookish Luna who had handled the most detailed aspects of governance and Celestia who handled the more glamorous roles; but now, after a thousand years of doing everything herself, Celestia no longer seemed to need Luna to help her govern. That, combined with the lunar princess's learning curve in what she had missed in a thousand years' exile, left her workload rather thin. And the princess of the night chafed at the idea that she was now superfluous. What a bitter irony that would be.

She turned around at the sound of hooves on marble. Then again, superfluity was a matter of perspective.

Celestia smiled at her sister as she came to a stop by the railing. "Everything is calm, I'm sure?"

"Equestria sleeps like the dead," Luna reported with a smile of her own. It promptly faded. "You look troubled, sister."

Celestia frowned as she cast a solemn gaze over the capital. "Shining Armor's troops reported in. They went through the caverns under the city with a fine-toothed comb, but they could find no trace of the Nightmare."

Luna felt a twinge of worry. "Perhaps it has moved to another locale."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Celestia looked up towards the horizon. "It's like the story of Nightmare Nebula all over again."

"Nebula? The one who was brought back to right reason by one of her captives?"

Celestia nodded. "The report never mentioned it because there was no evidence, but I've never been able to shake the feeling that there was a second force at work in that whole episode. Something that helped create Nightmare Nebula—and many others, before and since."

"Another Nightmare?" Luna blinked. "The one we are chasing now?"

"Possibly."

"But how? That would mean it has lived for over five hundred years. No pony can live that long."

The solar princess bowed her head. "The Nightmare promises many things beside power. It also promises immortality. It would have made no difference to you, but to a mortal pony, the anger and hatred that sustains the Nightmare can become powerful enough to overcome even death. But that comes with a price—because the pony underneath, the pony whose anger birthed and nourished the Nightmare, still dies. And then the Nightmare simply becomes a physical manifestation of the forces that created it. And at that point, there is no longer a pony beneath the mask to save. And with that sort of power, the only thing such a creature can think about is lashing out at others—and creating more creatures like itself."

Luna cringed as she put the pieces together. "And so you too fear the Nightmare we have been chasing is responsible for the creation of this other Nightmare?"

"Exactly," said Celestia, "which means Twilight Sparkle's job will be infinitely more complicated."

The thought hung over both of them like a thick cloud. Luna cleared her throat. "Have you heard from her recently?"

"This morning. She intends to come to Canterlot and look through the archives for news of Trixie's parents." She glanced over at Luna. "I know you prefer to sleep during the day, but I will be busy with my regular duties, so if you wouldn't mind..."

"Of course," Luna said with a smile. "I think I have taken to this 'watchful guardian' role rather well."

Celestia gave Luna a grateful hug. "You have no idea how hard it was to try to do all this by myself. Thank you, Luna."

Indeed, Princess Luna knew she might appear superfluous to outsiders who saw her sister's hard-won majesty, but she knew she was as essential as her moon and stars to her sister—and to Equestria—even if they didn't know it.

———

"I am not playing the checklist game with you, Twilight," Spike said, and the look on his face showed that he meant every word. The checklist, after all, was at least two yards long. If they actually tried to play the checklist game, they would be there until nightfall. And Twilight Sparkle did have an early-morning train to catch.

Twilight bit her lip and glanced over the horizon, where the sun was just beginning to appear. The first train to Canterlot would be pulling into the station soon, so maybe the checklist game really was a bad idea.

"Are you sure you'll be okay without me?" she asked.

"Aren't I always?" Spike asked, with as much bravado as he could muster. Twilight's skeptical stare did not help. "Yeah yeah, I know, just keep Trixie nice and quiet and leave her alone and don't pick fights, and wait for you to get back. Simple. Don't worry, Twi, Fluttershy and I can handle this."

Twilight frowned. "I'm going to worry anyways."

"Yeah, well, that's why you're the crazy one."

Twilight looked up nervously towards the upper floor, where Trixie was still sound asleep. "I hope I can come back with some good news."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, "it'd be a bummer if you have to tell her that her parents are, like, dead or something."

"Spike!"

"What? Don't tell me you weren't thinking of that."

"Well..." She shook her head. "Look, I need to get going, so you guys just be good and hold down the fort until I get back, okay?"

"Aye aye, captain!" Spike said with a mock salute. Twilight gave him a quick hug and took off at a brisk trot towards the train station. It would be a pretty lousy way to start the day if she missed her train and had to wait an hour or two for the next one. Downright silly, even.

And of course she would still worry. She'd cast a powerful variant of the suppression spell on Trixie after she'd gone to sleep—so hopefully it would last. Then again, she hadn't seen any of Nightmare Storm since that first escape attempt, so she couldn't be sure the Nightmare was still there, or what was going on. And since she couldn't get inside Trixie's head or figure out any other metric of progress, how was she supposed to know if she was any closer to getting rid of the thing or not?

And what if Spike was right and Twilight brought back unhappy information? Well, at least Trixie would know. And she had a right to know. And if worst came to worst...

Twilight put that thought out of her mind. Surely things wouldn't be that bad. She might have to spend all day in the archives hunting down files, but if that's what it took, fine. Bringing back the truth, whether it was happy or not, was what Twilight had promised to do. If she broke her promise, that would make her a terrible friend—and what Trixie needed right now was a friend. Of that Twilight was certain.

And even then, she still bitterly wished she could have some way of telling what was going on inside Trixie's great and powerful little head. Not just for the sake of this whole endeavor, but to know why it had happened in the first place. Why was she so boastful? Why did she run away when her boasts proved not to be true? Why did she embrace the Nightmare's power? And what did she think now, under all that bluster and bravado and pride? What did she think of Twilight now?

Twilight Sparkle was no stranger to questions. That was how research went, after all; one question would lead to two more, and an answer would simply create another question. Twilight was used to that. But sooner or later, research would yield answers that did not simply raise more questions, and then things would start to be solved, and eventually the matter would be closed—or at least, as closed as it was ever going to get. Not here. These were different questions, open-ended, tinged with emotion that Twilight was at a loss to explain. Like her research, these questions led to other questions as well—but this time they were questions Twilight couldn't even fathom. And nothing was stranger to Twilight Sparkle than a question she didn't want answered.

She made her way through the quiet train station and up to the platform. The train was already on its way in, grinding to a halt under billowing clouds of black smoke. Twilight looked up towards the illustrious mountain of Canterlot, where the turrets and towers of the castle were starting to gleam in the first light of the morning. Answers were up there, and she would find them, whether she wanted to or not.

———

Comments

[RTStephens]

Few! Another lengthy one, but worthwhile none-the-less!

The pacing is a little slow at these parts, where Twilight is slowly whittling away at Trixie's heart, but going any faster would lose the impact of the monumental effort necessary to win Trixie over. The questions of how to make friends with your enemies and trying to understand them are well handled here and I'm looking forward to how you answer them.

Also liked how, completely by accident, Twilight was able to strike up a conversation with Trixie with magic. I guess the way to that mare's heart is through her horn.

So the villains make their move next time? And Luna's going to be involved? Looking forward to it!