The Lavender Unicorn
Of course, these effects are more typically observed in populations…
Twilight’s vision blurred for a moment, before it slipped into total darkness. She let her head dip. The softness of her comforter seemed all the more inviting—
No. I can’t let this beat me. The Princess gave me this assignment, and I’m going to finish it!
She shook her head, clearing the fog that had begun to build before her eyes and bringing them back down to the page.
Of course, these effects…
The words blurred again, and her bottom lip parted company with its top sister. A low groan escaped between them.
No. This report is going to be done!
She shook her head again, though much harder and for longer this time. So hard, she hoped, that the fog had been blown all the way to Cloudsdale. Or wherever it had come from, just as long as it wasn’t here.
Okay, Twilight. Focus.
She looked back down at the book that lay cradled in her fore-hooves. She willed her itching eyes to stay on the letters, to let her absorb these wondrous words and let her truly grapple with the knowledge that their writer wished to impart, but the flickering light made them dance and shift on the page.
Of… course… these—
Thud.
Her nose pressed against the thick, hefty book, its words looming massive in front of her bleary eyes that just kept blinking. But the pain she expected turned into nothing more than a mild pulse. At least, that’s what her brain told her it was.
The room around her swam hazily for a second as she sat back upright, before she stopped and it cleared. She lifted a hoof to her muzzle, pressing tentatively.
Now it hurt.
She tried to let out a sigh, but it turned into something much longer and deeper before she could stop it, and her lips smacked against each other beyond her control.
Oh, what’s the point…
Barely able to keep them open, Twilight let her eyes drift around the room. Surely there would be something in here that could help her stay awake?
Her eyes flicked up to the headboard. The candle… No. What was she thinking? Was she about to burn herself with it?
She snorted and scrunched her muzzle. But even as she did, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wobbly little flame that barely peeked out from the rim of its holder.
Didn’t I put in a new candle after dinner?
She shook her head and looked elsewhere. A bookshelf solidified through the gloom, but she discarded the idea of cracking open another thick, heavy tome with thick, heavy paragraphs filled with thick, heavy knowledge…
She pushed her head back up with her hoof, trying to ignore how it felt as though she was trying to lift a boulder.
No. For once, more reading was not the answer.
Lifting her hoof even further to cover another deep gulp of air, she looked over to the other side. There was the one thing that she could see clearly. The gentle glow of the moon, shining in through the open window, and the stars that clustered and twinkled around it in the inky blackness poked their way through the fuzzy shroud that clouded her eyes.
That was odd. She couldn’t remember the moon being that far across the sky—
No! Don’t think about that!
She sighed again, this time without yawning, and looked back at the window. Then again, maybe some fresh air would help…
“Twilight…”
Her ears perked right up, losing the cotton-wool-like fuzziness that had been filling them.
“Twilight…”
Oh…
Narrowing her eyes, she aimed them at the moons and stars at the end of her blue bedspread.
It’s you… again…
“I think it’s time you called it a night, Twilight. Don’t you agree?”
NO!
She shook her head again, and pushed her aching muzzle into a frown.
I have to do this! The Princess trusted me with this report into the reduced ratio of unicorns compared to other types of ponies in isolated communities, and I will finish it!
She tried to hold her scowl, but after a few seconds of effort her jaw just couldn’t anymore, and the expression faded into something of a pout.
“She asked you to finish it by the weekend, though, didn’t she?”
Well, yes… But I scheduled to have it done for tonight! Even if I lost most of today thanks to Applejack wanting me to organise her barn refurbishment, I can’t leave it for another day! Think of what would need rearranging!
Her eyes creaked as they widened again. There was her audience with The Mayor. And her meeting with the Ponyville Bookworm Brigade into their purchases for the next season. And her organising of the census for the area. And on top of that there was the refurbishment itself to add in…
Her lungs burned as she wheezed them back into heavy use, and she put a hoof to her chest. Where was going to find the time for all of those?
No. I have to get this report done. Tonight.
“But Twilight… Don’t you think you would be able to do this more productively in the morning, when you’re refreshed, rather than spending three hours staring at the same piece of paper?”
Now that wasn’t fair! She was Celestia’s prized pupil! She had maintained a perfect grade-point average for her entire schooling in Canterlot. She had spent hour upon hour in the libraries at her schools, pouring over books thicker than her hooves and practically inhaling their contents, before switching to the next, even heavier book and doing exactly the same thing without even skipping a beat! Of course she knew what she was doing!
Of course, these effects—
Wait.
Twilight sighed again, and she finally let her head slump.
“Come on, Twilight. You know it’s for the best…”
Yeah, I guess you’re right.
She ran a hoof up her face, and again it felt as though the limb weighed hundreds of times as much as it should.
A sudden vision filled her mind, of a purple unicorn with her mane tousled so far that its pink stripe could no longer be called one, slumped halfway down one of the library’s staircases, snoring louder than a foghorn and with a little puddle growing underneath her gaping mouth.
There really was no point in continuing.
One last time, she pushed her legs against the softness of her bed and stood up. They ached, they groaned, and she felt one of her knees click, but at least they responded unlike the last time this happened.
She leant forwards and blew out the candle, finally extinguishing the wavering golden glow and leaving the room dark again. Moments later she replaced it with a soft, reddish radiance as she gently placed her book on her bedside table, remembering to slip in a piece of parchment before she finally closed it.
She wobbled a little on her hooves as the light of her magic faded and the darkness grew, now drawing itself over her eyes again.
“Almost there, Twilight.”
She smirked, but it was quickly split by another long, deep yawn that popped her ears.
Lifting the quilt, she slipped herself into tender embrace of her soft mattress. Cotton caressed her limbs as she stretched out into the cool expanse, curling her hooves and smiling.
Oh, I needed this…
The fluffy pillow welcomed her head and wrapped it snugly.
“Only the best for you, Twilight.”
The only reply was a soft, quiet snore.